September 7th, 2007
Few have done better than the Def Jux crew in capturing the twitchy fractured neurotransmitters of the George Bush/Paris Hilton American schizophrenia of the ‘00s. Carving out a subterranean fiefdom out of odd-ball eclecticism and non-conformity, the Jukies have less in common with other rap labels than they with another chain-smoking bohemian NYC-based collective, one who emerged in response to what writer Michael McLure called the “gray, chill, militaristic silence…the intellective void…the spiritual drabness” of Eisenhower America.
By now you’re probably rolling your eyes at another tired musician-writer analogy, perhaps the most tired trope in the shallow bag of music writing. Fair enough. But there are more than a few parallels between Def Jux and the Beats. El-P, the oldest of the crew, the one that brought all these divergent personalities together, plays the role of William Burroughs, dropping a traditional but still experimental leaning debut (Junkie, Funcrusher Plus), before evolving into a master of the cut-up, ginsu’ing voices and words into an avant-garde masterpiece that will probably be in the canon for the next half-century (Naked Lunch, I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead).
Cannibal Ox play the role of Kerouac, dropping a solitary classic (Cold Vein, On the Road) and subsequently squandering any and all opportunities before fading into drunken/stoned anonymity (though to be fair, I’ll take Big Sur and Dharma Bums any day over Vordul and Vast Aire’s solo jaunts). Cage plays the role of Gregory Corso right down to the salad bowl haircut, sordid background, unfiltered honesty, and late arrival to the crew. Mr. Lif is Amiri Baraka right down to the last bit of sulfurous Marxism.
And The Beats Go On
Then there’s Aesop Rock, recently re-located to San Francisco after a long stint in New York, and the toughest to pigeonhole. Many hip-hop heads wrongly dismiss him as too nerdy (read: white), but even the most staunch haters can’t deny his strong voice, a husky growl stained with the tar of a million Marlboros, or his skills, honed in the live chaos of New York City ciphers. Inevitably, the beef comes down to his lyrics, a Gordian knot of surrealist images that jag with the ordered chaos of an Allen Ginsberg poem, one transmitted through a filter of Wild Style, Run DMC, and Ghostface. In his eight years rapping, Rock has sketched everything from dystopian satires invoking “30-foot Bob Barker’s come to incinerate New York” to neighborhood snapshots of what Ginsberg called the “sun and moon and tree vibrations in the roaring winter dusks of Brooklyn.”
Bursting into the collective consciousness of the underground circa 2001, Rock’s “Howl” was “Daylight,” a flawless mission statement, one that both men were wise enough to know could never be re-created. Similar in spirit, both works became de-facto anthems for a generation of alienated teenagers and young adults who really, really didn’t want to work. But just like you can’t blame Ginsberg for inadvertently spawning the beatniks, who spawned the hipsters, who continue to clog up coffeehouses with bad poetry to this very day; you can’t blame Aesop Rock for having a fan-base described by Evan McGarvey as “gobs of white kids…fans of Mastodon and the Rx Bandits…for whom Aesop is one of their only hip-hop-centered item of interest.”
But None Shall Pass is nothing like the song set that won him the heart of your local bong-toting metal-head. None Shall Pass isn’t a brilliantly composed complaint like Labor Days. It’s a more mature reflective work, one from an artist just north of 30 looking back on his past, penning 14 coherent cryptograms with a clear-eyed sobriety.
Aesop Rock during his short-lived “Crossing Guard” Phase
On “Catacomb Kids,” Aesop reflects on his Long Island childhood as a “dark dumb” student getting stressed by the cops for a couple of “spray cans and some litter.” “Fumes” harrowingly details a relationship crumpling under the weight of a shared drug habit that spirals into suicide. “39 Thieves” manages to put a fresh spin on the capitalistic rat-race, by purposely staying obtuse and veering away from the simplistic “money = really really bad” or “money = really, really good” dichotomy that usually divides the underground and mainstream.
After handling most of Bazooka Tooth himself, Rock has wisely re-enlisted Blockhead, perhaps the most underrated producer in underground hip-hop, for seven beats, each of is which is a stunner. In particular, two stand out as among the best of his career: “No City,’ with its swooning strings, bursts of frazzled guitar, and jazzy keys sounds like a lost RZA beat from 1995; while “None Shall Pass” is a dizzying blur of ping-pong video game beats that sound like what you’d expect nu-rave to sound like if it was actually good.
Producing five beats himself, Aesop’s production has improved from his earliest attempts behind the boards. He’s settled nicely into his own sound, somewhere between Blockhead’s neo-boom bap and El-P’s futuristic robot funk. Sonically, the record feels the loosest of Aesop’s career, as though San Francisco’s mellow West Coast vibe has seeped into his music and cadences. None Shall Pass may or may not be the best album in Aesop Rock’s discography, but it might be the most fun to listen to. Call it his San Francisco Renaissance.
Originally Published at Stylus
Download:
MP3: Aesop Rock-”None Shall Pass” (right-click)
MP3: Aesop Rock-”Citronella” (right-click)
Posted in Album Reviews | 9 Comments »
August 31st, 2007
I’ve never really been a big Kanye West fan. I liked College Dropout well enough and thought roughly half of Late Registration was fantastic. But neither ever seemed to me like the sort of world-breaking achievements that warranted Ye’s massive ego. But with Graduation, West has actually backed up his insane braggadocio, delivering the rare hip-hop album that not only manages to fulfill expectations but exceed them.
Whereas Late Registration in its saccharine swooning strings and superfluous instrumentation felt all too much like the work of a slightly insecure guy trying to make the most “important” sounding album possible, Graduation is the work of a confident and assured artist in his prime. It marks the first time in his career where his rapping ability has caught up to his production skills, the moment when Kanye finally became comfortable and consistent in his own persona, or as he puts it on “Good Morning”: the fly Malcolm X, buy any jeans necessary.”
It’s the album that you hoped that the guy from College Dropout would grow up to make. Dallas Penn thinks the album is the sound of the future, and he’s not all that far off. It’s a mess of techno synths, haunting organs and familiar sounds re-purposed ingeniously, an avatar of the weird post-Internet world where the jump between Daft Punk and mainstream hip-hop doesn’t seem all that far. And no one understands this new world better than Kanye, as he samples Steely Dan, Daft Punk, Can, Michael Jackson, to create one of the the most creatively produced hip-hop records since De La Soul. More importantly, he chops the samples well, manipulating the vocals effortlessly and precisely to create a seamlessness that his music had often lacked.
Pink: Still Not a Good Look
I realize this sort of comes off like some of fanboy declaration of how good this record is, but in all honesty, I was relatively apathetic to West until the album leaked yesterday. But on Graduation, he’s captured something special, the sort of instant classic that feels impossible to hate on. You kind of have to root for the guy. It’s sort of like the ultimate vindication for rap nerds everywhere, that a dorky guy who could barely get a record deal actually turned into the most acclaimed rapper in the world and instead of squandering his talent, he dug deeper and worked harder to secure his legacy.
I’m not sure how this album will hold up over time, as I’ve only heard it a half dozen times so far, but my gut instincts tell me that it will go down as one of the great rap records of the decade. I realize this is a bold statement to make but let’s be real, anybody that manages to coax great performances out of Chris Martin and T-Pain deserves a Nobel fucking Prize. So, count me in with the pack. This is worthy of the hype that will doubtlessly be thrown its way. I guess Kanye West really has graduated to become the artist he always wanted to be, finally earning the right to not have to be told anything. Though, maybe he should listen every once and a while. After all, somebody needs to tell him that those pink outfits make him look like a gay salmon.
Download:
MP3: Kanye West-”Everything I Am ft. DJ Premier)” (left-click)
MP3: Kanye West-”Stronger” (left-click)
Posted in Album Reviews | 7 Comments »
August 29th, 2007
While the blogosphere hyperventilates about the leak of the new Devendra Banhart album, Smokey Goes to Bear Mountain, Grows a Beard and Has an Orgy with 14 Girls Named Rain Who Have Hairy Arm Pits and Went to Vassar, another, far better folk album has gone practically unnoticed: Tung’s Good Arrows.
I attribute the lack of attention alloted to the London-based sextet, to the fact that the name Tunng inevitably conjures up nightmarish images of unappetizing sandwiches that you may or may not find at your local overpriced delicatessen. But rest assured that along with Monkey Swallows the Universe’s similarly excellent, The Casket Letters (see Ian Mathers’ outstanding Stylus review), the Tunng album is one of the best folk records made this year, one that proves that in the year 2007 the Brits apparently have a monopoly on good but melancholy folk bands with really stupid names.
Just 42 minutes, Good Arrows is a collection of 11 beautiful wistful meditations; acoustic guitars fleshed out by patches of electronic tinkering that beef up the record’s frail sound and help brighten its down-tempo mood. The band has been compared to the Beta Band and Four Tet and I’d say those comparisons are apt. Though unlike those two bands, Tunng don’t really make stoner headphone trips, but instead craft soothing music for the come-down, when the high has worn off and you need a record to stop your thoughts from careening like pinballs. Plus, if you cop it, you’ll get the chance to approach a record store clerk and ask him or her for some Tunng. And really, how many times are you gonna’ get to do that in your life without getting arrested?
Buy Good Arrows
Download:
MP3: Tunng-”Bricks”
From 2006’s Comments of the Inner Chorus
MP3: Tunng-”Woodcat”
From 2005’s Mothers Daughters and Other Songs
MP3: Tunng-”Tale from Black”
B-Side from “The Pioneer” Single
MP3: Tunng-”Pool Beneath the Pond”
Posted in Album Reviews | 4 Comments »
August 19th, 2007
There was no garage rock revival.The Strokes made a great first album, but the only garage those kids have ever seen houses six cars or more. The White Stripes had and continue to have a brilliant career but they’re not exactly beer-swilling teenagers cranking out Stooges riffs in the basement. The Hives? Well, they’re Swedish and thus discounted because their garages are made from Ikea. And I think we all can agree to never speak of The Vines, Von Bondies and Jet ever again.
Consequently, you don’t hear about garage rock anymore. Like dance-punk after it, it turned out to be less of a movement than a few good bands that came about about at the same time and shared a lo-fi, crude and powerful sound. Truth be told, though they’d never admit it, it’s the oldest trick in the music crit book, slap on a “movement” tag on a couple bands, get the hype machine rolling and pray for that sales uptick. (And if you don’t believe me, check back here in a few years when “Nu-Rave” is even more of punchline than it already is).
So if The Black Lips had made Good Evil Not Bad Evil six years ago, I’m sure every critic would’ve shouted from the rooftops that you needed to hear it. It’s raw agressive and steeped in a primal psychadelia, a flat-out dirty record (in the good, Motley Crue kind of way, and not the bad, Christina Aguilera way). In the vein of the 13th Floor Elevators and the Nuggets comp, Good Evil is a weird and wild ride. It’s also one the best rock records of year. So if you’re getting burnt out on sad “indie” caterwauling and want something that sounds it should be chased with a shot of Cuervo, these guys get my vote of confidence.
Download:
MP3: Black Lips-”Cold Hands”
MP3: Black Lips-”Not a Problem” (live from Tijuana)
Posted in Album Reviews | 1 Comment »
August 17th, 2007
Passion Play is a sometime column designed to highlight exceptional unsigned acts. This does not mean you should send me your demo. In all honesty, I probably won’t listen to it. Unless of course, you are in EPMD and the demo includes the song “Please Listen to My Demo.” In that case, rock rock on.
Who: Ill Eagle the Anti-Rapper
What: (The story of Ill-Eagle in his own words) Ill Eagle has never been shot. In fact, at age 21 he’s never even been shot at, which is extraordinary for many young Black males from Gary, Indiana. Ill Eagle didn’t intend to be such an exception, a virtual weirdo in a town once called the Murder Capital of the United States.When you’re avoiding gangs and ignoring poverty from the world around you, sometimes all you can do is turn inside and embrace the creative world within. With tastes that stretch from Tiesto to Tchiakovsky, Tech N9ne to The Sex Pistols, Ill Eagle brings a fresh approach to hip-hop that defies common comparison. This is rap for a new generation: diverse, irreverent, real without pretention yet honest and humorous. This is music for the soundtrack of life, sometimes serious, sometimes fun, always memorable.
Where: Gary, Indiana.
When: Ill Eagle’s debut LP, The Wilhelm Scream dropped earlier this year to praise from the likes of 33 Jones, Souled on Music, and Model Minority. It remains unclear whether the record has anything to do with Kaiser Wilhelm and/or The Scream.
Why:Say what you want about a guy like Kanye West (and believe me, I think he’s as overrated as anyone), you can’t dismiss him because the way of the way in which he defies easy labels or categorization. It’s that same reason why I think Ill Eagle is one of the most promising MC’s to debut this year. Everything about the guy resists easy descriptor tags: he’s from the hood but he doesn’t front like a gangster. He’s a self-described “reverse wigger” who lists Nirvana, Wu-Tang, Bjork and Daft Punk as his heroes. Many of his songs rail against crack-rap’s lies and the lying liars who tell them, yet many of his raps come over beats that wouldn’t sound out of place on a Young Jeezy record.
A common knock against most underground records is their conservatism, with most underground producers solely trying to recycle neo-Tribe Called Quest coffee-shop beats or 9th Wonder/Kanye West soul loops. Most underground rappers spend their 50 minutes of screen time describing themselves only in opposition of what they’re not. By contrast, The Wilhelm Scream seems remarkably forward-thinking, with beats ranging from bass-heavy Southern bangers to year 3000 space-rap beats a la Automator or Timbaland-lite. Lesser MCs would struggle with such challenging soundscapes but Ill Eagle handles them admirably, preternaturally understand whether to fall back into the pocket of a beat and ride it out, or when to step up aggressively to smash it over the head like a game of Whack-A-Mole (no The Mole.)
The album isn’t perfect. Some of the hooks could be better and some of the beats are just a bit too abrasive. But when Ill Eagle isn’t wasting his time railing about crack-rappers and focuses the attention inward, he’s a uniquely compelling artist. Sort of like Murs if he’d grown up in the Midwest and really liked Bloc Party. It’s an impressive debut, particularly for a kid just out of his teens living in the middle of nowhere. While the best may be yet to come, Ill Eagle has the potential to be a three-dimensional personality, someone with something to say, one who figures to be worth paying attention to for a long while.
Download:MP3: Ill Eagle-”Warhol Superstar”MP3: Ill Eagle-”Burn Out> Fade Away”Download the entire album for free at Ill Eagle’s Myspace
Posted in Passion Play, Album Reviews | 5 Comments »
August 14th, 2007
I wish I had the time to give Blockhead’s Uncle Tony’ s Coloring Book, the full review treatment, as its one of best hip-hop instrumental records I’ve heard this year (along with Wax Tailor and Madlib’s new Beat Konducta record). But rest assured, if you enjoyed his first two albums, the sorely underrated, Music By Cavelight and Downtown Science, you’ll no doubt want to pick up a copy of his new jaunt. It doesn’t break any new ground, nor does it need to, it’s just 13 soulful, funky beats from one of the finest producers in the game. Released today on Ninja Tune, it comes highly recommended for all fans of hip-hop instrumentalism.
Buy Uncle Tony’s Coloring Book
Download:
MP3: Blockhead-”The Strain” (left-click)
MP3: Blockhead-”Grape Nuts and Chalk Sauce” (left-click)
Get 1 more Blockhead track from Analog Giant
Charlie Brown Commands You to Check Out These Links 
Barry Schwartz, lead singer of the Passion of the Weiss approved, Disco Vietnam, drops the ridiculously entertaining essay, The Green Day Conspiracy, theorizing that the band did not actually write American Idiot.
Berkeley Place has Clash Covers A to Z
I’m surprised this Raekwon review over at Hip-Hop Dx hasn’t been all over the Internet, as it’s pretty interesting and it covers everything from Ghost’s participation on the new Wu record (he’s on it), the status of Only Built for Cuban Linx 2 (summer of ‘08 now…right) and whether or not Superb wrote Supreme Clientele (obviously not).
Everybody Cares Everyone Understands has a nice write-up on the new and very good Okkervil River record. I’ll be seeing them next month and will have more on it then, but the more I hear it, the better that album gets.
Posted in Album Reviews | 4 Comments »
August 9th, 2007
I suppose it’s fitting that I didn’t even remember that today was the 12th anniversary of Jerry Garcia’s death until a friend of mine reminded me a couple hours ago. That’s what I get for not checking Hidden Track first thing every morning. Sure enough, when I finally checked in on the duo of Ace Cowboy and Scott Bernstein, they’d already beat me to posting a Jerry tribute (I always thought you hippies were supposed to be poorly organized…damn Hidden Track, always defying my unfounded stereotypes).
Writing a eulogy is rather pointless. It’s been done to death and besides the music speaks more eloquently than I could ever hope to write. So download this bootleg of the Dead’s classic 11.21.73 show, put on a pair of headphones, light one up and celebrate the life of one of the greatest musicians the world has ever seen.
Download:
Zip: The Grateful Dead-Live at The Denver Coliseum, 11/21/73 (left-click)
Posted in Album Reviews | 1 Comment »
August 8th, 2007
One of the main reasons why I blog is to get the opportunity to write headlines involving the phrase “Free Sunset Rubdown.” Because nothing says “indie rock” more than vaguely creepy band names that may or may not involve a happy ending. (See also Man Man and The Strokes).
But really. Let’s talk Random Spirit Lover for a second. It’s really really good. Maybe unbelievably great. I’m not sure yet. I still have some listening to do. Like all Spencer Krug albums, it’s not the sort of thing you can really digest in one sitting. His records play like collections of short stories sharing a few stark themes. And they aren’t page turners either. He makes the sort of music that demands patience, something that seems antithetical to the sugar-rush grab bag of the digital age.
Thanks to Gorilla Vs. Bear, I became aware of the fact that Jagjaguwar is currently offering up a free MP3 from Random Spirit Lover, the ridiculously titled, “Up on Your Leopard, Upon the End of Your Feral Days.” It’s not my favorite song from the record, but then again you’d be hard pressed to find anything even remotely poppy on it, so it must have been impossible to try to pick out what the “single” is. The album doesn’t come out until October 9th. I’ll have the full review when it finally drops. In the meantime, enjoy your Sunset Rubdown. It’s certainly not for everyone, but if you’re at all into Krug’s previous work, I can promise you a happy ending, free of charge.
Download:
MP3: Sunset Rubdown-”Up on Your Leopard, Upon the End of Your Feral Days”
Posted in Album Reviews | 3 Comments »
August 3rd, 2007
1967 was 40 years ago, but judging from the way Rolling Stone deified it this anniversary Summer, you’d think it occurred during the Renaissance. You know the tired spiel. “LSD! Hippies! The Beatles! Vietnam! The Monkees! We changed the world, man….One Toke at a Time” Right? Wrong. The myth that hippies changed the world is like the Tibetan myth of the Yeti. Both were very created by people that were very very high.
But for all the stoned hippie blather and contrived mythology, 1967 did produce some great music: The Doors’ first record, Younger than Yesterday, Surrealistic Pillow, The Velvet Underground & Nico, The Grateful Dead, The Piper at the Gates of Dawn, Are You Experienced, Something Else by the Kinks, Disraeli Gears, Forever Changes, The Who Sell Out, and yeah, that Pepper Club Band thing. It almost makes you want to be an ex-hippy with a graying ponytail, an “organic foods,” fixation, an “eco-friendly” business approach and the nickname Munchie (or Seth).
Dan Snaith, the mastermind behind Caribou does not seem like a hippie. He has short hair, a Mathematics PhD and he’s from Canada. Canada doesn’t have hippies they have elk (and probably caribou). But sonically, Snaith updates the sound of ‘67, creating songs as blindingly bright as the album cover’s yellow tulips, producing nine lush tracks, ideal for the sun-scorched summer.
Do These Caribou Know How to Party or What?
Unlike most psychedelic rock, a palpable sadness permeates Andorra, in a way that reminds me of Forever Changes in its sense of loss and uncertainty. Andorra is a break-up record, a stumble through a tragic world filled with clouds of swirling rainbow smoke. A love-lorn Snaith devotes half the songs to girls with matronly names like, “Melody Day,” “Sandi,”"Desiree” and “Irene.” The latter song being largely an instrumental with a few lyrics that describe the peril of dating a woman with an unattractive name like Irene. (The B-Side, “Gertrude.” is even more brutal.”)
Like Milk of Human Kindness and Up in Flames (recorded under the Manitoba moniker), Andorra is drugged, disoriented and ultimately dazzling. While it may not fully stack up against the best stuff made 40 years ago, it’s certainly close. And even if it doesn’t receive instant canonization (because it’s not part of “the revolution, man,”) it remains a powerful and beautiful work of art. The ideal soundtrack for the thinking man’s stoner after he’s just lost his woman (or his bong).
Download:
MP3: Caribou-”Melody Day”
from Milk of Human Kindness
MP3: Caribou-”Bees”
Posted in Album Reviews | 2 Comments »
July 31st, 2007
Since day one, Camp Lo have always been Hollywood. Their technicolor tales could only fit on the big screen: blaxploitation fantasies of bloody Bronx shoot-outs, slick diamond heists and jet-black getaway cars gunning it 100 miles per on the Bronx Expressway, plane to Aruba waiting at Teterboro. All matinee style: swaggering in fly panama hats, Oscar Gamble afros, and floor-length minks. And, of course, the finest weed, wine, and women stolen money could buy.Speaking with Byzantine slang, the duo of Chiba and Suede dropped a classic on their first try, 1997’s Uptown Saturday Night, a record that seemed to herald the emergence of a classic hip-hop duo. What rises in the first act, though, falls in the second, and Lo fell as hard as anyone, with label woes causing them to basically vanish for a decade. In fact, until last year’s Fort Apache Mixtape, Lo were more likely to appear on Nas’s “Where Are They Now ‘90s Remix” than they were to drop an album, let alone a good one.Black Hollywood is that album. Just 35 minutes start to finish, it wastes no time in proving its case, commencing with “My Posse from the Bronx,” a Ski-produced banger full of nervous stuttering hand claps and a “My Philosophy” sample. Like champion middleweights, Cheeba and Suede bob and weave, jabbing the beat with perfect rhythm. The tone of the record is clear from the first bars, with Lo still spitting subterranean Bronx tales full of frantic car chases, stolen drugs, and Rugers to shatter spines. In the hands of lesser lyricists and less colorful personalities, the gun and drug talk would seem hopelessly tired, but with Lo, it’s never really been what they rapped about, it’s the way in which they did it
Won’t Tell These Guys It’s Not 1977 If You Don’t
Each track is a different scene in Lo’s seamy netherworld myth: “82 Afros” finds the pair embroiled in a dice game shootout, while “Sugar Willie’s Revenge” sees the pair painting the portrait of a “Dirty Harry carrying” pimp named Sugar Willie. “Ganja Lounge” is that moment in the movies when the store-owner flips a switch, the walls revolve and suddenly you’re transporting into the redolent haze and dim lights of a plush drug den.Two tracks in particular form the record’s emotional core and make it more than just a paean to the spoils of crime: “Jack and Jill,” a cautionary tale that pays homage to Slick Rick’s “Children’s Story,” and “Sweet Claudine,” a love song to a woman recently jilted by the father of her children. Wise enough to know which clichés to avoid, Lo’s rare glimpse of sentimentality imbues the album with a degree of depth and three-dimensionality often lacking in contemporary hip-hop.Sure, the album has a few flaws. Roughly half the tracks appeared on a little heard mixtape the pair released last year. Several beats are just OK. And with the exception of maybe “My Posse from the Bronx,” nothing stands up to “Luchini,” “Black Nostaljack,” or “Cooley High,” the holy trinity of Uptown Saturday Night singles. But, then again, the sequel is never as good as the original, and while it may not be the second classic Camp Lo album, Black Hollywood marks a satisfying return. Cheeba and Suede’s Hollywood production might not be about to shove anything off any AFI’s greatest of all-time list, but in a weak year for hip-hop it certainly deserves an Oscar nomination or two.Download:MP3: Camp Lo-”Posse from the Bronx”MP3: Camp Lo-”Ganja Lounge”
Posted in Album Reviews | 3 Comments »
