Like its simplistic album title, /\/\ /\ Y /\, heretofore to be referred to as Maya (because it takes a lot of fucking effort to type out the hieroglyphic emblem), opens with the equally simplistic, fifty-seven second “The Message.” Though I usually hate it when artists use intros to start their album since it’s generally just a way to make it look like there are more tracks than there really are, it actually works as a nice transition to track 2 on the record (yes, I say record. Fuck you, digitalism), called “Steppin Up.” This finds us in the familiar electro sound MIA promoted on her debut, Arular. Following that is the second single from the album, “XXXO,” recently remixed by Jay-Z to ensure success.

MIA doesn't just make prophetic music, she wears prophetic t-shirts too

Some listeners have had mixed feelings about the deliberate and generic pop sound of “XXXO,” but doubts about MIA’s musical fearlessness are immediately assuaged by the futuristic beats of “Teqkilla,” a song that sounds like something you might hear if there were jungles in space (and who’s to say there aren’t, really?). After “Teqkilla,” “Story to Be Told” takes us to another far off place, beginning with the jets of a plane taking off and MIA’s voice ethereally echoing, “All I ever wanted was my story to be told.” It is easily one of the best cuts off the album.

Sri Lanka, bitches!

“It Takes a Muscle” changes the entire tone of the album midway through, altering the mood to the tranquil ambience of relaxing on a beach (preferably one in southern Italy). “It Iz What It Iz” continues this sound with a somewhat 80s backing track for the music. However, while musically enjoyable, it gets kind of old to just hear her repeat “It iz what it iz/This is how I feel” without realizing that there’s more to a song than just a chorus.

MIA's album cover: A tongue in cheek homage to YouTube and the 21st century

Next is another single from the album, “Born Free,” already well-known for the video being briefly removed from YouTube due to some graphically violent imagery (but really, is there anything the American public hasn’t seen already?). This is the track that truly ignited the fever for MIA’s album release, a thesis for what was to come–not just musically, but also in terms of MIA’s extremely vocal opinions about life in the twenty-first century, including the assertion that Google and Facebook are implements of the CIA (um, totally agreed).

Portrait of a Lady

“Meds and Feds” is probably the only song with a rock vibe out of all the tracks, contrasted by the succeeding song, “Tell Me Why,” making use of MIA’s actual singing talent as opposed to her knack for harsh shouting. Maya concludes with the airy and tenuous modulations of “Space,” a perfect disunion from how the album began. Because MIA is all about confusing and discombobulating the expected order.

I didn’t have very high hopes for Eminem’s new record Recovery when I heard about it. 2004’s Encore was pretty damn bad and a far cry from his heyday. 2008’s Relapse was alright, but a lot of the songs were uninspired and seemed like Em was trying much too hard. When I heard about Recovery, I shrugged with disinterest. Not Afraid gave me a little bit of hope, but wasn’t terribly impressed with the song. Despite all my reservations, I checked out the record, because, well, it’s Eminem, and he has definitely put out some badass albums in his day.

I can honestly say that Recovery completely threw me for a loop. It’s pretty much the absolute best record I think Em could release at this point in his career. This is Em’s ninth studio album, and its depth is incredible.

One of the best aspects of Recovery is how critical Em is of himself, and especially the last two mediocre albums he released. He prefaces Talkin 2 Myself by thanking everyone for being patient “while I figure this shit out” over the past few years. In the song itself, he states that he’s come to make it up to us, as Them last two albums didn’t count. Encore I was on drugs, Relapse I was flushin’ em out. The song is one of the album’s strongest cuts, with a memorable hook delivered by Kobe (no, not Bryant).

Em addresses critics with On Fire, the next track, which has a juicy beat and some vitriolic lyrics delivered by Em. The entire first verse is a perfect example of Eminem’s fierce wordplay skills, the kind of vocal delivery that in my mind is one of his greatest talents. The first time I heard this song, the chorus didn’t really grab me, and I thought it was pretty lame. Well, Em follows up that chorus with the line I just wrote a bullshit hook in between two long ass verses –  if you mistook the for a song, look/This ain’t a song its a warnin to Brooke Hogan and David Cook/That the crook just took over so book/Run as fast as you can, stop writin and kill it/ I’m lightning in a skillet you’re a fuckin flash in a pan. It’s this kind of self-deprecating honesty and creativity within the song that Em uses on Recovery so well.

Won’t Back Down, featuring Pink on chorus duties, is set to a pretty repetitive beat, but it allows Em to deliver some of his most aggressive vocals on the album. It basically sounds like he’s yelling for the entire song…and by the time his final verse comes around and the volume drops on the track while he yells Bitch you listening tryna turn me down??/ Slut I’m talking to you, turn me back up/Are you insane?? Tryna talk over me in the car/ Shut the fuck up while my shits playin I was already sold on this track, too. That’s an inventive trick to throw into a song, and it really caught me off guard.

The majority of Recovery can be called ‘highlights’, really. It’s that good. Going Through Changes is a bit of a slower tune, set to a sampled chorus of Black Sabbath’s Changes. I initially thought that was an odd choice for a sample, but it works for the song, an introspective cut with Em questioning things and wrestling with his demons about things such as balancing his career and Hayley’s upbringing.

I have to mention that I was pretty surprised at the lack of Hayley and/or Kim references on Recovery…in the past, these two topics would take up a good chunk of Eminem’s songs, but he seems to have shed all the pretenses and fake accents and typical lyrical boundaries this time around. Because of that, he really shines on Recovery.

No Love, featuring an unexpected sample of Haddaway’s club jam What is Love?, is blazing, even though Lil’ Wayne takes up the first two minutes of the song. I don’t like Weezy or his lazy annoying delivery, but the fact that he doesn’t ruin the song with his extremely long guest verse is a good thing. Em & his producers picked a random song to use as a sample, but it works well.

Space Bound almost sounds like an Everlast song, with the acoustic guitar strumming in the background and the easy beat, but it takes off during the chorus, with what sounds like a female voice singing I’m a space-bound rocket ship and your heart’s the moon/And I’m aimin’ right at you/Right at you/250, 000 miles on a clear night in June/And I’m aimin’ right at you/Right at you/Right at you. If you thought Beautiful (From Relapse) was a change in direction for Em, check out Space Bound and see what you think.

25 to Life is another female-chorus-driven song with a tender beat, with Em lamenting a tumultuous relationship. The song works like an M. Night Shyamalan movie, taking a drastic change of direction toward the end, as Em reveals that he has NOT been speaking to who you thought he was for the entirety of the song. Just listen to it, you’ll get what I’m hinting at.

Love the Way You Lie, featuring Rihanna, was already #1 on iTunes the day Recovery dropped last week, so it’ll undoubtedly be a smash hit. That’s understandable, as her vocal hook is ripe for radio play. The song as a whole is another gem on the record, demonstrating Em’s ability to balance aggressive lyrics with a poppy chorus.

Don’t think that the songs I’ve mentioned in this review are the only highlights of Recovery – in fact, they’re just the ones that came to mind as I wrote all this down. The album is arguably Em’s most solid collection of songs since the Marshall Mathers LP. The songs work well together, creating a fluidity and cohesion that you don’t really see anymore with his albums.

Eminem really raised the bar for himself with Recovery – I didn’t think this was possible, but the album is easily one of his strongest outings, and restored my faith in him, honestly.

Check this out if you like Eminem, and especially if you were as bored with Encore and Relapse as I was. This is a complete 180 and a return to form for Marshall Mathers.

Guess who’s back?

Let’s be honest, B.O.B. deserves a B.a.R.F. I don’t do them often, but I do think that this album deserved to be broken down in a way that only the BaRF can explain properly. The Adventures of Bobby Ray tell some of the stories of the newest star out of Atlanta, and truth be told, he brought something new to the table. I think this a step in the right direction for the rock and rap music collaboration movement, and after this review, you’ll know what I mean.

Beats- 7/10

This album’s beats did crack the mold, but I would exactly say broke them. Still though, for a first album I loved bumping the tracks in the car. Bet I immediately had me thinking of what the perfect club beat should sound like. It easily painted a picture of the sultry, sexy women who pour themselves into little black dresses at the club. There’s a point where a club beat gets to rough for a woman to dance smoothly too, but even with the Nintendo keyboards in the background, I loved it.

The best beat on the album, and I’m sure most will agree was track 9, Fame. Produced by the Knux, Jackpot and HamSquad; It holds the charm of blending old electric guitar, even older samples from the prime days of music, with that modern twist. With two of the three producers being newcomers (at least in the spotlight) Fame should entitle them to just that. I’ll go ahead and predict you’ll catch this track on the next Entourage soundtrack.

Showing some Coachella love!

Rhymes- 8/10

This album rocked the rhymes throughout, but I feel like the strongest contenders were the two last songs on the album. I feel like finishing strong is something that’s lacking in not just rap at times, but with music in general. I want to listen to the last song and ask for an encore, not “what the hell just happened?”

5^th Dimension takes the Del tha Funky Homosapien route and rhymes about how badass he is, whilst keeping sci fi elements the driving factor of the track. Grant Del was telling more of a story with his sci fi, Bobby used sci fi in a way that I still felt was creative and original.

Featurettes- 8/10

The Adventures of Bobby Ray was chock full of great artists: Lupe Fiasco, Hayley Williams (of Paramore fame), of course you had T.I. on there, hell; even Rivers Cuomo from Weezer jumped on a track. But the best of the bunch came at the end of the adventure, Airplanes Pt. 2.

Airplanes Pt. 2 was a pleasant surprise. I try not to read who features on an album until after I’ve listened to the whole thing, and this was one of the better guest stars I’ve heard on an album in a while. It’s been a little bit for me, but Eminem really brought it to the table and impressed me. Sure he talks about his troubled past, but it felt very welcome alongside the storytelling of B.O.B. Hayley Williams came back for the second part, to round out what I consider the best song on the album.

Glad to see the personal touch.

B.O.B. made himself a welcome member to the Grand Hustle family, and is definitely great live. I had the pleasure of checking the talented multi instrumentalist’s set at Coachella, and he knows how to get the crowd hyped. But don’t take my word for it. Give it a listen.

Until next time my friends,
~Flak

Lo-Fi Hip-Hop? That really seems the best way to describe Gonjasufi’s debut album, A Sufi and A Killer, presumably titled as such because of left field producer the Gaslight Killer’s large contribution to the beats (the rest provided by Flying Lotus and Mainframe). Gonjasufi (born Sumach Ecks) brings an impossibly broad variety of influences to the table, with tons to digest from soul and doo-wop to dubstep, world, and ambient, all prcoessed through a low, crackling psychedelia. It’s a truly unique experience, and while I’m hardly a vinyl enthusiast, it’s one of those few albums which leaves me wondering how it would sound in the format.

I'm trippin' already

With the exception of She Gone, which is by far the most immediately accessible song here, and the Mainframe produced Candylane and Holidays (the former giving a clean, pure disco vibe that barely fits in with the other tracks), A Sufi and a Killer is unified by a charmingly muddled and almost dirty sound. The production almost buries Ecks’ voice at times, as it is so understated and frail, and the roughness blends so easily into the soundscapes, but he still carries quite a presence nonetheless. His weathered vocals give an added abrasiveness to even the poppiest moments – particularly She Gone, which has an insulated early beatles-esque quality to it that gets ravaged by Ecks’ distorted wails. He demolishes another sixties trademark in the following SuzieQ, skewering Fogerty styled pop rock with a heavily fuzzed out garage sound and a rapid, frantic flow.

Kowboyz and Indians and Duet serve as wonderful send-ups of Indian pop and funk, respectively. Duet is based in a simple funk rhythm slowed down and distorted, with a synthesizer weaving its way through each measure. Kowboyz nearly drowns Ecks with a loop of Indian singing, resulting in a track so delightfully bizarre that it’s worth blaring even if just to get people to wonder what the hell you’re listening to. The Eastern influence is also apparent in the sitar and worldy percussion of Klowds, which, with its deliberately grainy production, actually sounds like something from the sixties, or in the very least a unique take on a Ravi Shankar song. The strange echo-filled ending leads into Ageing, an introspective blues and western sounding track with Ecks giving the already fantastic vocal melody a bluesy wail

Some songs seem to embrace a bit of camp, as well. Stardustin’ and Change seem almost as if they would be at home on the soundtrack to a seventies blaxploitation flick, while DedNd and the main hook from I’ve Given belongs in an old fashioned horror trailer. But while the whole of Sufi and a Killer is incredibly diverse, the deliberately lo-fi production along with Ecks’ ragged voice, with his almost equally diverse delivery, keeps things together. This is textbook trip-out music, and the hour long running time breezes by. It might feel for longer though, if you’ve dropped enough shrooms… not that that would be a bad thing, of course.

No, I don't have any change... now get the hell away from me

Rarely is an album bursting with so many ideas, yet so wonderfully cohesive. Gonjasufi and the Gaslamp Killer have created something more unique than just about anything that has surfaced from the underground hip-hop scene in the last decade, and produced a near-perfect amalgam of a staggering amount of genres, many of which seem completely unrelated. Definitely a record you should hear at least once.

After an ear catching EP and a song stealing cameo in P.O.S.’s Low Light Low Life, expectations had been set fairly high for Dessa, the latest addition to the hip-hop collective Doomtree, and her first full length album. A lot of folks in the underground hip-hop community have been waiting for her debut, and it is not only well worth the wait but it more than stands up to the accrued hype as well. Having started out as a poet, Dessa’s tremendous skill as a lyricist does not come as much of a surprise, but the sophistication in her rhymes and the stories they weave is startling all the same, particularly to be found on an underground debut album.

The code says to look down... it's badly broken though, so I'm going to look up

Dessa is an incredibly adept storyteller, which is abundantly clear right away. A lot of it is how spectacular her flow is, and how good she is with words (as is probably mentioned in every review of this album, she had a degree in philosophy by the time she was twenty), but a big part also is because A Badly Broken Code is a highly personal debut. The perspectives she takes when dealing with her family life (Children’s Work), toxic relationships (Matches to Paper Dolls), or even the difficulties with being in a genre dominated by men (The Bullpen) are incredibly clever, but very relatable as well. From wordplay like “You’ve got to strike while the irony’s hot” to cutting lines like “Something harder, look, like a moth you see, and I still get chills when you talk to me, but the years pass by now in twos and threes, these thrills ain’t as cheap as they used to be,” her writing’s got something to impress just about anybody.

The diverse beats are provided for the most part by Doomtree DJs. MK Larada, Lazerbeak, and Paper Tiger handle the bulk of the production duties, and offer a broad variety of beats. From moody alternative to brooding underground hip-hop, even big band to gentle, piano-led soft rock, there is quite a lot represented here. And even more impressive is that the able emcee augments her delivery accordingly with whatever style is backing her. Dessa has an enviable flow and impressive way with words to be sure, but on songs like Dixon’s Girl, the gorgeous The Chaconne, and the trip-hop sounding Go Home, she proves that she has quite a beautiful singing voice as well. Plus with her past as a spoken word poet, amelodic speaking parts are old hat to her as well, and sometimes she even combines all three approaches (like on Dutch, Momento Mori, or Alibi).

,

She's all "what bitch, WHAT"

Definitely an exciting new hip-hop artist to watch, Dessa has shown tremendous talent on A Badly Broken Code, not just in her rhymes, but her writing and versatile delivery abilities as well. The Doomtree collective has struck pure gold with her, as the idea of Dessa becoming big in the scene is not only plausible, but frankly the way it should be! As she says in The Bullpen, “Forget the bull in the china shop, there’s a China doll in the bullpen.”

Flobots came to prominence in 2008 with their hit single Handlebars, which grabbed people right away with its broad backing band and politically minded lyrics. While it was certainly nice to hear a popular hip-hop single tackling issues other than bling, bitches, and the like, a lot of the attraction came with the different musical approach, which drew in the indie and underground hip-hop crowds alike. The album featuring it, Fight with Tools, received mixed reviews, and indeed had its issues, but ultimately showed a bit of promise. Survival Story, the band’s third LP (counting their independently released 2001 debut Onomatopoeia), sadly lives up to very little of that promise, and suffers from the very same faults that plagued its predecessor.

.....aw crap.

On Survival Story, the Flobots incorporate a hard rock element into their sound, which really wasn’t a good move. One of the strengths was their organic beats, which kept them sounding unique in spite of other shortcomings. Here, they push this component too much and it clouds the songs to the point that they sound like generic rap rock. The worse example of this is lead single White Flag Warrior, with Rise Against’s Tim McIlrath. The chorus soars unnecessarily with a bombastic arena sound, only made worse by the proclamation that “we’d rather make our children martyrs than murderers,” which leads to the issue of the lyrics. This was, as their musical approach, one of the things that set them aside from other hip-hop acts. Political unrest is a great source of inspiration, but just like heartbreak, social awareness, general angst and the like, if it’s all you sing about, it’s going to get old. Politically charged lyrics run this risk in particular, because they can get preachy if not sold properly, and here even more than on Fight with Tools they come across as pure preachy rhetoric.

Head Flobot Jamie Laurie (or Jonny 5) has received the brunt of criticisms leveled at the band, particularly for his lacking delivery (in addition to the aforementioned heavy handed lyrics), and they’re far from unfounded. Laurie has a very sloppy flow, oblivious of tempo, time changes, and really the music in general. This has improved slightly since the group’s last album, as there are less awkward moments with the lyrical delivery, but they are still present far too often and ruin the momentum of several songs, especially Defend Atlantis, By the Time You Get This Message…, and Whip$ and Chain$.

The songs that do work on Survival are, unsurprisingly, the ones that depend least on the hard rock facet. Airplane Mode is led largely by violinist Mackenzie Roberts with a great, half frantic, half melancholic melody that the band backs beautifully. The distorted guitars are used quite tastefully on Superhero, which avoids another factor that drags down the songs – a lot of them simply go on for too long. Not many tracks have enough ideas to keep them interesting past the four minute mark, and the ones that do usually are handled so clumsily that the presentation is a total wreck.

We were too late to save the rainforest

Basically the strongest aspect that Fight with Tools had going for it was the music, not creating beats so much as crafting songs with several intricate elements. On Survival Story, they completely cluttered the sound with needless and generic hard rock stylings, particularly the genre’s lowest common denominator – basic chords, loud chanting choruses, and basically trying to sound loud and angry. Things like the rapping and lyrics, which could have used a lot more finesse, have been largely untouched, leaving the Flobots essentially making a mess of their initially promising style.

While technically classified as hip-hop due to his funk laced beats and heavy sampling, RJD2 (or Ramble John Krohn) has always had a very soulful sound to his work. Both of these qualities were largely downplayed, however, on his last full length, The Third Hand. Dominating his signature sound with a near ambient indie pop production left his fans somewhat alienated, while the remaining traces of his hip-hop orientation put off his intended audience. The good but ultimately adequate songwriting wasn’t enough to carry everything, and it ended up being extremely unpopular. Three years later, RJD2 returns with The Colossus, which brings some of his early turntablism and instrumental hip-hop back into the mix, as well as an array of guest vocalists. It still sounds like Krohn doesn’t want to let go of his new found indie experimentation, but while The Colossus isn’t likely to pacify fans of his older material, the fact that he’s playing a bit more to his strengths definitely pays off.

That looks like a teardrop! What a COLOSSAL PUSSY LOL ROFL

The large amount of live instrumentation from 2007′s The Third Hand is still present, though scaled back a bit in favor of light sampling, which is scattered throughout but used largely in the instrumental tracks. The instrumentation style has broadened as well, which results in a very eclectic yet cohesive album; The opening Let There Be Horns and Salud 2 (an obvious nod to his debut) are more turntable driven, but don’t negatively rub up against tracks like The Glow‘s irrestistable neo-soul or the upbeat Chicago-esque closer Walk with Me.

The guest spots help out a lot as well; Kenna’s vocals shine on Games You Can Win, a perfect fit for the smooth, progressing beat. Phonte Coleman sounds great on The Shining Path as well, and the combined effort sounds like a more spacey, psychedelic Gnarls Barkley song. It’s A Son’s Cycle that really steals the show though; Krohn stitches together a cleverly progressing beat and loads it with hooks, and while The Catalyst, Illogic, and NP each have great raps to contribute, the beat’s blend of instrumentation and sampling is done well enough to detract attention from them. The instrumentals have a great deal of diversity as well; Tin Flower recycles a folkish flute loop while tastefully adding more harmonies over until finishing abruptly, and the basic A Spaceship for Now is dominated with intensifying synths and drums, with an eerie keyboard underlying them.

The Colossus doesn’t always work as well as it should, however; there is a bit of fumbling with lackluster melodies. Giant Squid‘s flat out doesn’t work, and too much is added on, resulting in an overwhelming production with no direction. The other notable example is The Stranger, where the production is very tastefully done, but there is simply nothing to work with, and the result is a frustrating listen that, again, doesn’t go anywhere.

That's right.. my hedge maze is so amazing EVEN I CAN'T ESCAPE IT

RJD2′s latest sees him continuing on in the vein of his last album, but with more balance and a stronger sense of confidence. One of the things that made The Third Hand awkward in places was the fact that he didn’t seem sure how thick to lay on which aspect of the hybrid he was going for, but here most of the proverbial wrinkles feel ironed out. The Colossus may not be as grandoise as was intended, but it does show an artist gaining momentum in a new direction, comfortably leaving an old sound behind.

It was easy to be unenthusiastic about Relapse, Eminem’s first album in nearly five years. And not even just because of the large amount of time that had passed; his previous release, Encore, came across as little more than Eminem by-the-numbers. It lacked the heart of even The Eminem Show, which showed maybe three quarters the heart of his two previous albums, at best. Instead of cutting loose with his morbid sense of humor, he was streamlining it with celebrity parody (Just Lose It) and generic hip hop sentiments (Ass Like That). While admittedly, the political stances were appreciated, all of the rest was lackluster by comparison to the rest of his discography, and it didn’t look too promising for Relapse. However, Relapse delivers the goods, and more; I daresay that this is his strongest effort since The Marshall Mathers LP.

...I have definitely taken too many of these.

Relapse probably has the best introduction on an album all year in Dr. West. Half darkly funny and half mildly disturbing, he addresses his demons while making fun of the whole situation at the same time. Eminem actually seems the most comfortable he’s ever been with making fun of himself, which is a must for somebody like him (“And this Christopher Reeve shit? You know the guy’s dead, right?”). The Steve Berman skit near the album’s finish is the best example of this, showing Eminem at the receiving end of the following mockery: “Oh poor me, I had a drug problem!” The skits alone this time around are the best they’ve been in quite a while.

Loosely telling a story of Eminem resurrecting his Slim Shady persona, Relapse starts with 3 a.m., a song so violent and fearlessly offensive that it’s just… it’s just great. What makes it so endlessly fascinating is not just how over the top he gets, but how eloquent he is as he unveils these tales of horrific carnage as well(and to think, they just get worse after this!). The following pair of My Mom and Insane explore his childhood (with his usual exaggeration, the latter in particular) has wordplay that tops anything he did on Encore by leaps and bounds; Mom‘s chorus of “That’s why I’m on what I’m on ’cause I’m my mom” or Insane‘s opening line, “I was born with a dick in my brain, yeah, fucked in the head” are absolutely brilliant. Insane reintroduces us to the off the wall jokes that have been gone from his repertoire for far too long, such as “Well this is called Ass-Rape and we’re shooting the Jail scene,” as well as some that would probably be best not repeated here.

After that we return to fantasies involving kidnapping and murdering celebrities, or simply banging them (Same Song and Dance and single We Made You, respectively). For all its name dropping, We Made You sounds like genuine Eminem talking shit, as opposed to Just Lose It which sounded like borderline posturing. After these we have a series of drug related songs which culminate in the Mr. Mathers skit, leading into the surprisingly honest and soul searching pair of Déjà Vu and Beautiful, the latter actually being produced by Eminem himself. The rest of the album’s production is handled by Dr. Dre, who does a fantastic job all throughout Relapse. The beats all snap and sound fresh, matching whatever mood is being conveyed to a T.

Closing out Relapse is Underground, ending with a cameo from everybody’s favorite creeper, Ken Kaniff. The beat is extremely smart, playing with its time signature (unheard of in commercial rap) with Eminem’s flow sounding aaaalmost disjointed, but he keeps up effortlessly. Throw in his reliably intelligent rhymes, and you’ve got six minutes that will fly by every time. A spectacular way to close a truly outstanding album.

Hmm... I've never noticed this one before

Relapse shows Eminem at the top of his game once again. Brilliant rhymes, great beats, and he flat out sounds more confident than he has in nearly a decade.  After hearing this, I personally don’t think Relapse 2 can come fast enough.

Once having listened to Scott Mescudi’s (a.k.a. Kid Cudi) debut album Man on the Moon: The End of Day, it’s easy to believe that he had a part in Kanye West’s 808s and Heartbreak last year; it’s got the same amalgam of electronic influences as well as dealing with the same somewhat morose subject matter. Kid Cudi is able to avoid immediate comparison to West’s last album thanks to a broader assortment of influences and sounds, which could be in part thanks to the larger number of collaborators.

Kid Cudi's impression of McDonald's eighties mascot, Mac Tonight

While Kid Cudi’s debut is definitely impressive, it hits a number of snags. One big thing is Common’s completely unnecessary narration, which appears at random. It’s as though Mescudi feared that the unity among the tracks as far as the production and lyrics were concerned wasn’t enough to make the album feel conceptual, so lines for a narrator were tacked on between certain songs. It doesn’t flow, and doesn’t feel genuine; it only serves to disrupt Man on the Moon’s momentum. Speaking of flow, another issue is that Kid Cudi barely has one. This isn’t exactly crippling, as the vocal patterns are very well constructed, but his voice is caught awkwardly betwixt singing, rapping, and talking voices, not really registering as any of these. Lyrically, while Mescudi certainly can’t be accused of being empty or bereft of feeling, as there’s a lot of that here, more often than not he sacrifices any sense of poetry for directness to the point of coming across as self pitying. Up Up & Away is an unfortunate example of this, with the embittered cheerleader-esque refrain “They gon’ judge me anyway, so WHATEVER.”

Jinkies, yo!

Issues are indeed abound in Man on the Moon, but as mentioned before, the album is far from a flop. One of the record’s best qualities is the production; not only is it fairly diverse, but the elaborate construction in many cases is remarkably accomplished. The best moments come when Kid Cudi runs with the spacey feel that underlies the album; on Alive and Pursuit of Happiness in particular, both helmed by indie electronic outfit Ratatat (with help from MGMT on the latter track), the beats are trippy while with an alluring, head bobbing rhythm. Pursuit‘s music is also a perfect match for the deformed hope in the lyrics, psychedelic with a hint of sadness.

Soundtrack 2 My Life is a perfect example of how capable the melodies are. The vocal harmony is so compelling that the cheesy Charles in Charge reference, Jay-Z quoting, and dramatic lines like, “it’s close to go and trying some coke, and a happy ending would be slitting my throat” are barely distracting. The following Simple As… has a beautifully layered intro and startlingly clever wordplay (“as simple as that for your simple ass”), and the piano leading along the heavy synths and Mescudi’s bitter lyrics is absolutely beautiful. Great as these moments are, the highlight has to be Kid Cudi and Kanye West’s send up of Lady Gaga’s Poker Face on Make Her Say, which carries an amusing energy on par with The Roots’ single Birthday Girl.

Man on the Moon fumbles a bit at the end with the generic slow jam sound of Hyyerr as well as Common popping up once more to conclude his narration, but the album doesn’t quite end on a sour note. Kid Cudi is able to largely live up to the hype that has surrounded him for the past year, and his interesting perspectives on the genre will no doubt yield even better works in the future.

Reformed Muslim albino MC? That’s the last thing you expect when you listen to Brother Ali’s mesmerizing, almost smoky flow, but that’s exactly who’s spitting it – and on Us (his latest opus) he is damn near in top form. Backing him up on his third full length release (as he has for the previous two, as well as an EP) is Ant, a producer best known for his work with the alternative hip hop duo Atmosphere. It’s safe to say that he is performing even better than Ali himself; despite the obvious looping, nothing ever gets repetitive, plenty of interesting sounds are thrown in and the production feels fresh all throughout Us’ sixteen tracks. The beats reflect the eclecticism often found in this type of underground effort, but the heavy jazz and blues influence to Ant’s production, along with Ali’s fantastic storytelling, gives Us a great golden age feel.

Not only is Brother Ali an MC, but an accomplished shadow puppet performer as well.

Things start with a somber choir, but quickly explode with the highly energetic, horn driven The Preacher, a fitting introduction with the potentially unsettling opening lines “If you know me, you know I, love my family, love my god.” However, the music is too rousing and his charisma too undeniable for that “whoa, back up there buddy” moment you get with similar lines like “I’d like to talk to you about Jesus,” and while the spirituality is a significant theme on the album, it seldom takes more of a role than a setting (especially considering that a few bars later he asks, “what the fuck can stop Ali?”).

As mentioned before, the production’s diverse feel is a strong positive for the already impressive beats; the eastern twang of Breakin’ Dawn has a great, convincingly head-bobbing rhythm, and almost blends with the following The Traveler‘s Carribean allure so well as to render the gap in between hardly noticeable. Crown Jewel follows the raucous opening with a thick, jazzy atmosphere, and the smooth blues on tracks like the almost harrowing House Keys and Round Here fill out the musical makeup strikingly.

Also very deserving of mention are the stories Ali is able to tell. Babygirl is a particular standout in this department, telling the story of a rape victim with such unapologetic empathy that you can’t help but feel a little bit of what the girl he’s rapping about is feeling as well. In this day and age, it’s great to hear a hip hop artist rapping about anything that isn’t, to quote the Eminem skit Steve Berman, “big screen TV’s, blunts, forties, and bitches.”

Alright, check out the lighting. Do I look like Jeff from Behind the Hype yet?

Too much of the genre borders on self parody with the repetition of the same old boasts, so deviations are naturally going to be most welcome – but there are times when musing over serious political and philosophical matters can cross the line over to preaching. On the closing title track, he proclaims that in spite of “your religion or your past and your race, the same color blood just pass through our veins.” To anybody living in post-civil rights movement America (particularly one of Brother Ali’s fans), this is hardly a revelation, and it comes after quite a few other well worn sentiments addressed here.

Preachy while it may be, in the face of the fantastic production and otherwise excellent lyrics, it’s hard to dwell too much on this somewhat minor gripe. Brother Ali has put out better work in the past, but Us isn’t much far behind, and the album still serves as proof that hip hop has far more to offer than what the mainstream would have everyone believe.