2016 pt. 14

18+ - Collect

Comes off as somewhat surplus when taking into account their more-sprawling/parentheses-packed release from three months prior, especially being plainly plainer and really no less obnox persona-wise. But if you dig/tolerate/get a kick outta their apathetic weirdo disposition and art-n-pills-at-night mood-trap beats then this shouldn't disappoint -- matter-o-fact, a reduction in glitch-work experiments and the comparative cleanliness arguably give this the upper hand in some ways. "Drama" sees 'em at a surprising tier of legitimate despite repeated allusions to tigers+chimps, "Glow" is an anomalous shrill-effect acoustic solo effort via the femme-side, standout bangers and hooks sprinkled healthily enough throughout. Patent silliness toned down here too, but they still manage to bust this one out while simultaneously kinda summing up their schtick: "If you ain't depressed then you probably dumb / You could probably choke you so full of cum." 6/10

A Sagittariun - Elasticity 

Admittedly began skipping past most of the talky transmissive interludes after a few plays; cuz hey, 70+ minutes of heady techno is mentally taxing on its own, never mind the added occasional shift into philosophical brain-buster discourse. But they do make this beat-ridden beast feel comprehensive+cogent and also complement the surrounding compositions, as in they too make you sit back and think "like, whoa, man": spacey but never limacine, involved without being too burdensome, a vivacious and varied sound palette that's fond of muzzling its melodies. The ender emergence into the hustle-n-bustle-n-rainfall of Myrtle Avenue fittingly feels like being dropped back into normal ol' reality -- though there's no 23s noticed throughout, it's safe to say Elasticity is this sagittariun's very own version of Operation Mindfuck. 7/10

Aesop Rock - The Impossible Kid

*******HIGHEST RECS*******

///BRAV-FUCKING-O\\\

Bars are anti-generic, defiantly daedal, and constantly enthralling; and he's got enough of 'em to handle the whole sans guests. A word-wiz wonder-man whether he's blathering absolute absurdities or molding said absurdities into meticulous yarns that are keen, personal, comical, even pensive: there's the neck-tatted kid at the Baskin-Robbins who makes him feel hoary as hell and half-hearted bout his own body art+its creators ("Now some 22-year old inside a cube of brick and mortar / Got me questioning my morals and their corny pecking order"), the 'specially standout story of one estranged brother's ballgame-impeding gopher and another's letdown after mom won't let him see Ministry, the acknowledged defects and resultant kitten of psychiatry ("When you start getting all exact and algebraic / I'm reminded it's a racket not a rehabilitation"), the blunt bashing of a prominent quote ("Knowing ain't half the battle / That's a bullshit quip written by some asshole"), this ("Airhorn airhorn airhorn airhorn"). Oh and he also found the time to bust out the beats too -- those lively, heavy, funky, eerie, beats. 8/10

Olga Bell - Tempo

Bell's playful sass and pushing of the electro-pop envelope intrigue, but the beats often seem far too eager to eschew cohesion for abstraction+eccentricity, and usually the result comes off labored and lumbering more than it does engaging or felicitous. Potential abounds but it seldom gels here -- not looking for total uniformity or nothin', but some more solidity would go a long way. Doing away with the pesty pitch-shifts and hackneyed house hi-hats would too, methinks. 5/10

DJ TiGa - The Sound: Vol. 1

*******HIGHEST RECS*******

///BRAV-FUCKING-O\\\

Replete with rambunctious rumbling, hacked-up repeato voices, and dizzying intensity, this remix-exclusive wingding seemingly longs to intimidate yo ass right outta the club more than provide dance-friendly cordiality -- bass often simulates an impending stampede, gunshots+guncocks are standard soundbytes, percussion is accelerated and unquantifiable, screams-n-grunts are plentiful. Hip-hop party aura (albeit an aggressive one) happily emanates through all the buck-wild twitchy thud electronics, the pop balladry of "Your Love" provides a midway kinda-cooldown (albeit a zippy one), scared Scooby yelps go up against incessant inquisitors and Jersey trite-talk is mockingly (sincerely?) tossed around like a rag doll, a football video game is semi-serenaded. It's commanding and uncivilized to an extreme that's deserving of its general-yet-pompous 'The Sound' titling, and doesn't exhaust nearly as much as it probably should; and while the evident recognizables stand out as such, in this bunch-o-bangers they're just the easy ones: the m.a.a.d city gone madder and torn free of context, Biggie coming back from beyond to full-tilt suck tits and grab paper, a Drake-collision whirlwind which has him sounding harder+woozier than ever before (maybe). Where Vol. 2 at? 9/10

Kevin Gates - Murder For Hire 2 [EP]

Checkup EP one year after the original and four months after a mixed-bag major label debut -- welcome return of emphasizing da rough stuff and rappin' over pop propensities and romancin', a self-comparison to Kurt Cobain, still puking via depression and pining for privacy despite his swelling success, notable hooks crafted from goin' stupid and a "fuck it" chant, Muslim flava, proof that his excess offerings are more stalwart than most of his peers, sustained stagnation avoidance yet not particularly pressing. 6.5/10


Kvelertak - Nattesferd
Parched production is rather beseeming for their old-school rock/metal homaging -- as is the could-be-an-NES-game-case album art -- but I can't help but hunger for the punchier 'oomph' these riffs-n-anthemics deserve. Still, they gotz a fair flair for summoning the fun and the forceful, the past and the present: their sound can oft-channel parties+motorcycles, they're partial towards a good trebly+jovial singalong and not opposed to grandstanding a la Kiss; but the black-n-thrash tinging is rife, the snarled Nordic vox are permanent, and considerably complex ~5+ minute songs are the ushe. Also apt at gracefully driving a riff home ("Ondskapens Galaske"), brutal berserker breakdowns (ahem, "Berserkr"), and acoustic coloration when applicable. 7/10

Klara Lewis - Too

Its tenebrous subtleties render this most effective while lying down in a dark room, or perhaps seated in a corner facing the wall while wearing a blank expression. Bookended by blatancies with a kindly curt in-between that goes somewhat hard+bold for creepin' ambient synth-drone -- a sorta-tune at hand on occasion, uber-covert itty bitty details, static-ridden dialogue fragments, oppressively opaque atmosphere -- but ah, just so much of a muted float-by bore on the whole. It is, however, a murky drifter that'll color that corner at least, and provide a light at the end-o-the-tunnel to boot. ~*~meh~*~

Dawn Richard - Infrared [EP]

A steamy electro-r&b short-play that's all-too-apropos for summer and quick-fix-bliss -- 4 simmering tracks in just over 14 minutes, each an unobtrusive banger with a killer hook and bewitching atmosphere; thick with the smaze of spliffs and indecisive pining with a dash-o-defiance for good measure. Ender refreshes with plashes and purification, i.e. a bid for baptizement and "water coming down like ooo ooo". 7/10

Sepalcure - Folding Time

Starts sleek and sprightly with its lush sway between techno-backed straight-up r&b and chopped-voice-collage garage thump, undoubtedly grooves in both, but never quite gets past seeming somewhat safe and subdued. As pretty and tricky and bouncy as these beats get, they don't really bear that mesmeric mind-grasp or whip out an aberration for kicks; and when vox get less prevalent they don't make for the most riveting of reinforcers, neither. Soothes more than it stirs, if you will -- albeit a considerably peppy and graceful soothe. 6.5/10