2018 pt. 9

******** - The Drink

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

///****-FUCKING-*\\\

The title-track takeoff's howling barrage over a laugh track is an anomaly; the howling barrage part anyway. Thereon out you've got a guy/girl dynamic that's rudimentarily repetitive with drollery and crudeness as their charm. Slow+sparse+snobby enuff to chafe just about anyone, they read as a sillier Throbbing Gristle; or perhaps if being generous, The Vaselines as art-school burnouts. Machines tap, violins creak, drone groans, guitar crackles, grooves stay simultaneously shaky+steady, cheap three-note hooks languidly ring out and linger. But right, the drollery. "I'm a Zookeeper (Not a Goalkeeper)" is not about being a zookeeper or not being a goalkeeper, rather it's more about being/not being any ol thing one could be/not be that ends in 'er'. Its most upbeat involves seltzer testing and its most dour stars a very unfunny traveling comedian. Elsewhere, a rather masterful sendup of Supertramp's "The Logical Song" illogically segues into "Gangsta's Paradise", a duel deadpan wedlock decision is made during a Christmas tune, suicide-method suggestions are begotten via Reddit, a readymade is made ready and readymade. And most epic of all for the finale, the tale of a doomed friendship with a drunk dog. 8/10

DJ Koze - Knock Knock

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

Comes with some slight snags: chirpy festival-esque fluff, drawn-out runtime that nears an hour-twenty, off-key blurts, the thought of tunes on teeth. But its dream-stated sprawl-as-adventure and colorful detail and contagious warmth make this a summer-electro selection for the ages. You'll convincingly move in a liquid and may wanna wave a lighter; get lost in the wide array of vocal guests and deep house cuts with sampled hooks that equal em; see or at least hear aliens and oft dip into the nocturnal; wonder if the creepy kid singin' bout the guy who's got the whole world in his hands slyly pertains to Trump; get suckered into whistling those aforementioned blurts. Classic Contrast: Speech falling deeper in love and driving a droptop jeep vs. Kurt Wagner jumping off a building. 8/10

Dr. Octagon - Moosebumps: An Exploration Into Modern Day Horripilation

A reboot no one really needed, but now that it's here and Dan The Automator is executive beat-man and they made sure to follow in Dr. Octagonecologyst's footsteps to a T, sure we'll take it. When beats do break out that mold a bit they stick, but prevailing is still the thrill of Kool Keith's rhyme-stuffed serious-bout-absurdity rollercoaster flow. As hinted from opening with a song called "Octagon Octagon" that samples Dr. Octagon and octagons everything in sight, he's either overly confident in his self-mythology or just trolling; but his non-sequiturs are more often than not a hoot to trail -- lotsa animals, colors, lechery that's almost always attached to a laugh. But even when curbing it to only one porno sample this can't help but feel a bit dated+awkward at times, and I like scratchin' as much as the next guy. Not that it's full-on Awktagon, just doesn't have that same album flow or belly-fire or edge, and I wouldn't expect it to. Not to mention, KoRn chords just ain't what they used to be. 6/10

Delroy Edwards - Rio Grande

It's all in the aesthetic on this one: consistent room hiss, homespun VHS/video game vibe, blocky bass and whiny funk-synth that would fit fittingly with a night-cruise circa early 1980s. Vaporwavish one could say, tho it's headmost a thudder. Its house is playful and not quite boring -- ay it even works backwards -- but none of it really goes anywhere either. Nearly every track is like a compressed draft that's all too similar to the one before it. Perhaps great in small doses, a small dose being any 5-or-so selections at random. Much more than that and watch playful turn plain+painfully stiff. 22 of em, and well, oof. 5.5/10

Empath - Liberating Guilt and Fear [EP]

Demo tape that's 60% birdy psychedelic squall and 40% promising noise-pop -- rough and radiant, rowdy and chirpy, fun and to the point while making room for protracted droning. Would love some louder vox, however. 6.5/10

John Prine - The Tree of Forgiveness

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

My first fling with Mr. Prine was earlier this year, when a randomly selected download of 1991's 'The Missing Years' wound up being quite the excellent eye-opener; singlehandedly solidifying him as a stupidly supreme songwriter who's earned his all-time-great country cred. Flash to present day and he is now around 20 albums deep and 71 years old, frailer-n-froggier after throat surgery and a couple bouts with cancer, calmly funny and casually intimate as ever. A tight ten tracks and abundant bareness showcases his skill at keeping it simple -- and barring rhyming "way I feel" four times over on the hopefully-sarcastic God ballad, still a master of the easy rhyme. Dig the 'uh huh's after getting mail at his domestic dream house/in his own head, the one that may subtly be about chasing your dick around circa 1967 before becoming a near-blind grandpa pissin' the bed, when he's knocking on your door for some help with a can-o-beans. Definition of Boundless Love: "If I came home would you let me in? / Fry me some porkchops and forgive my sin". Happily awaiting heaven too, he's got a master plan even. Which amongst the family-finding and forgiveness includes, yep that's right, smoking a cigarette that's nine miles long. 7.5/10

Pusha T - Daytona

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

///PU-FUCKING-SH\\\

Accomplishes precisely what was hoped for outta this all-shortie 7-track Wyoming series: a superb sampling of the MC at hand and an airtight package of unassailable verse+beat solidity. Plus a hook or six. T goes hard-n-triumphant but is continually composed, full of exactitude and accentuation and detail -- the deficiency of gimmickry is wonderful, as is how his now-notorious ender-disses toward Drake and Wayne highlight hard truths rather than spit senseless spite. As is his disgusted yucks. Some Standout Sum-Ups: "So I don't tap dance for the crackers and sing Mammy / Cuz I'm posed to juggle these flows and nose candy", "The Warhols on my wall paint a war story", "I am your Ghost and your Rae / This is my Purple Tape". 8.5/10

Sons of Kemet - Your Queen is a Reptile

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

Important lesson learned: never underestimate tuba as a bad-ass bass replacement in a jazz quartet; the remaining three players in this case being saxophonist and a pair of percussionists. Together they'll take ya on a trip on every tune but shun getting too airy or long-winded, collectively let 'er rip at times but stop short of mad squawkin' and tumult. Their forte is fiery directness; power and rhythm. Dips into the slower+softer aren't quite as successful but make for some fruitful breathers, and having a knack for swampy reggae cert don't hurt. And whereas we get lizardry, all their Queens are powerful black women -- see bookended voxers for some scarily relatable thoughts on the issue -- "Fuck the fascists, end of story / Fuck em all, fuck em truly", "Don't wanna hear that racist claptrap / Anybody chat that crap get clapped back / Don't wanna take my country back mate / I wanna take my country forward." 8/10

Kanye West - ye

Kanye's cumbersome ego-wielding is obviously nothing new, and unfortunately neither is his penchant for spouting hogwash. Thing is, this same kuh-razy cranium of his once led to some of the most fascinating artistic veering of the century. Present day however it's just horrendously hard to stay invested in the guy -- if "it's been a shaky-ass year" he certainly assisted in the shakin'. Beats and production shine no doubt; even if he does smuggle sections from way-smaller artists who he really coulda/shoulda shelled out to. But a bulk of this is a bit of a self-serving pseudo self-pity bore: bragging bout the drama he himself created, a gaggle of gag lines, topical namedrops just cuz, women appreciated only if they stick around through your shittiness or become your daughter. "I said 'slavery a choice', they said 'how ye'", Ye whines. Sadly, they're right. Kudos to the guests; particularly 070 Shake, whose troubled triumph may be the apex -- even if it is damn difficult to bleed via stove-burn. 6.5/10

Zeal & Ardor - Stranger Fruit

Siked foremost that Z&A administrator Manuel Gagneux has managed to forge a formidable full-length out of his dicey stylistic amalgam -- though it was an abbreviated mishmash, Devil Is Fine was fine as hell and bursting with potential and individuality. With xtra bolstering from a drummer and producer, this followup sees a satisfactory smoothing. Tunes buffer, metal less blackened, glitchy electro extinct, palette for soul/Satan/slavery/mortality vaster. Structurally however a number of these songs can come off unsure or clumsy. Screechin' and blast-beats as spurts rather than mainstays are sort of a tease, interludes are kinda fruitless, suddenly he'll get all Fithos Lusec on your ass, and at times they seemingly unearth a formula for nu-metal (middling chugga chugga squeaka riff+bluesy yells). Bit exhausting on the whole, yet enticement still overrules. 7/10

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Ceephax - Camelot Arcade 5/10

Drinks - Hippo Lite 6.5/10

Jon Hopkins - Singularity 6.5/10