deadverse recordings

Discography

Abandoned Language

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  • Label: Ipecac Recordings
  • Release: 27 Feb, 2007
  • Catalog No: IPC-84
  • Abandoned Language

    • Lyrics

      1.
      Abandoned language only when i thought my masses couldn't manage.
      Wisdom gained with age is lost to page as adage.
      So tragic, that average trajectory.
      Incendiary thought and vast vocabulary makes none the less of savage.
      A fist or full clip might be quick to split that cabbage.
      This breath? It takes tactics.

      Haven't quite mastered movements after three full decks.
      What we seem to go through rarely ever makes sense.
      From the scorching country fields to the heart of projects,
      What we know of history's always marred in violence.
      So I, Etch my own stone into tablets.
      Never felt a need to live elaborate.
      Fuck them pretty niggas with their rings and silk fabrics.
      Need an ear to concrete to speak correct grammatics.
      Heard same beauty in my noise where the rest heard static.
      I've had it, Trying to explain this same formula.
      Perfect paranoia.
      Don't let me trust a soldier.
      Thought we'd all understand now since we're older.
      They pass manilla folders and 100,000 die.
      They built the public schools with factory workers in their eyes.
      Since we don't manufacture now they don't need men.
      It's easier to start wars than it is to feed kids.
      Damn we callous.
      We kept off balance.

      Kept off balance as i harness raw talents
      Said a million times prefer bullets to ballots
      Kept off balance
      Ideas are valid.

      2.
      Ideas are valid.
      They say i'd best whisper
      Ideas are valid
      They say i'd best whisper
      i say i'll keep a pen to pad and fingers on triggers.
      Should i aim at own temple or several?
      Can't figure.
      It's hard to focus, perhaps our last opus.
      If younger heads quote this, then it ain't all hopeless.
      I wrote this with intent to resurrect a John Carlos,
      A Huey Newton, a Gueverra in the midst.
      Can't accept the struggle's dead when there's blood on our lips.
      Positions shift but survival's all basic.
      Ain't a fuckin' thing sacred nowadays kid.
      Perhaps the racists ain't blatant but what's really changed?
      Our peoples been trained to live in tight cage.
      The only thing we feel is mad rage.

      The closest thing to bring a smile to parched lips slipped silent through arthritic grip.
      A stoic life lasts instant.
      A starved infant would best paint state of our conditions.

      Populous with no ambition
      Content to tear at flesh formed somber progression.
      So where's the lessons to digest within aggression?
      These filthy blocks are all immersed in raw tension.
      Meanwhile they act like poverty was our invention.
      The meek inherent what and when is my question.
      I read your weak history text that never mention
      A solitary second of my people's true intentions.

      Astute observations kept us mentally replenished.

      Resumed rituals retold tales as heretic, within my speech lies the last of my heritage.

      Hit headshots with higher average.

      All caught in labyrinth, shine when i speak you can't handle it.

      Chorus:

      Turn that page muthafucka cause our story's all scripted.
      600 years, ain't a fuckin thing different.
      Don't speak to us about strength and upliftment.
      The closest thing to paradise is mad distant.

      3.
      Mind's prism imprisons what light enters to ruin negative
      reactions attract interest from factions that lack oral traditions
      In fact speech muted like Miles' horn.
      Though humble my soul's torn
      Tempted to tell more
      Labeled a failure
      You fail to see my core
      Won't let you just ignore
      This fight's what we live for
      Fragile image ignites wrath of ancestors.
      Revamped rhyme pattern gathers pulse from street wars
      i seek more
      perhaps life's still atypical.
      Experience has got me cynical.
      Seen our best clipped at pinnacle.
      Provide cyanide in form of capsule.
      At times it seems my breath is just a hassle
      Masked men poised to kidnap for known ransom
      Ransack a stack of ill writtens
      Reduced to ramble.
      Why's our inner streets left in shambles?
      I know a niggas got to eat.... but do we got to play sambo?
      Suburban copies sloppily repeat what seen on airwaves.
      Completely miss gist of dimly lit stairways.
      How dare they make us trivial
      Made it seem we never counted
      My culture's demise was more literal than it sounded
      Theories well grounded, inevitably unearth skeletons of fellow men.
      Pristine bones got bleached of their melanin
      While they teach mere scraps of tinged truth
      Corrupts youth
      Views constrict these pupils.
      The useful made fools with eyes that blur proofs.
      My manner's uncouth as they complete loop.
      Kept cyclical sense of this noose.

  • Bricks Crumble

    • Lyrics

      1.
      Spit vernacular tactical acts attain status.
      Spectacular terrain ingrained in deep patterns.
      (A) possible protest viewed as progress
      With miniature steps one tends to digress.
      Devised verbs to act basic balance
      Beneath Bricks lies meaning unchallenged.
      Average actors equate to non-factors.
      Your formulaic prose disastrous
      Enamored by text
      Tempt to forge my words straight molten
      Only be perceived by the chosen.
      Same tree still grows in Brooklyn
      Misery mistooken
      maintained pain constant
      Themes central in booking.
      Mental erodes like canyon rock
      Thoughts sediment.
      All actions evolve past sentiment.

      chorus:

      Militant speech type Amiri Baraka
      Await actions from hands that ain't proper
      Words strengthen emotions they foster
      Bricks crumble under feet of this author.

      Militant speech type Amiri Baraka
      Await actions from hands that ain't proper
      Words strengthen emotions they foster
      Bricks crumble under feet of this author.

      2.
      Simplified existence exposed core elements.
      To breath through concrete still seems irrelevant
      irrational acts accentuates our arrogance.
      Assassins arrows aimed at the affluent.
      Tongue stuck to pavement, we hold no influence.
      Maintain that statements were lost with our innocence.
      Inexact science defined by own sense.
      Design our demise in past tense.
      Tumultuous results raise brow of doubters
      Debated innate abilities amongst oceans of cowards.
      Conceived concept convinced the lucid
      The value of our voice seen in movements
      melancholic lyrics became the mundane in this maze.
      Awake my cohorts with verbal tirade.

      chorus:

      Militant speech type Amiri Baraka
      Await actions from hands that ain't proper
      Words strengthen emotions they foster
      Bricks crumble under feet of this author.

      Militant speech type Amiri Baraka
      Await actions from hands that ain't proper
      Words strengthen emotions they foster
      Bricks crumble under feet of this author.

      Militant speech type Amiri Baraka
      Await actions from hands that ain't proper
      Words strengthen emotions they foster
      Bricks crumble under feet of this author.

      Militant speech type Amiri Baraka
      Await actions from hands that ain't proper
      Words strengthen emotions they foster
      Bricks crumble under feet of this author.

  • Paragraphs Relentless

    • Lyrics

      1.
      Krylon text read off walls at sacred bench
      Street lights lit burnt out apartments
      The grip of microphone defines the heartless
      A swig of Ol' gold and an L to spark this.
      Reminisce to the days of backspins
      Before the role of MC's reserved for acting.
      When my real grimy niggas came two fists blastin'
      Before the teardrops we felt the laughter
      Halos can't help but shatter.
      Pure pain always comes after
      My culture does matter.
      Perfect picture, precisely right mixture
      Bred in Five Burroughs, an East Coast signature.
      Subterranean verses emerging in mass quantities
      Mass produced on cassette and LP
      But sales weren't the mark of the illest MC
      Creates and Tech 12's were tools that blessed me.
      Beneath this asphalt, below the concrete
      We bred in basements where only real men speak.

      Chorus:

      Seek Redemption in each sentence
      (paragraphs relentless)
      Verses flow endless
      (violence stays senseless)
      Change written script on torn page.
      (Its all the same)
      Assaults we wage became vague.

      Seek Redemption in each sentence
      (paragraphs relentless)
      Verses flow endless
      (violence stays senseless)
      Change written script on torn page.
      (Its all the same)
      Assaults we wage became vague.

      2.
      Train of thought thrown askew
      As i moved subdued through corridors
      Known to fellow orators
      Fuck an encore, settled scores before the bridge
      Rigid temperament won't allow me to forgive
      Morbid fascination with our soot and ash
      At long last prepared to play phoenix.
      Poverty ingrained so my peoples always feel it.
      Scenic qualities were framed in Flashed Message
      Remain restless
      Youth immersed in essence
      of culture still fledgling
      Force fed feeble lies to point of indigestion.
      Consult wise men on life's questions
      No time for second guessing
      Seconds passed to form decades
      Pause mixed on blank cassette tapes
      Backspun on wax we learned to crossfade
      Wrists quick from trips we threw in dice games
      As life changed i maintained a razored mental
      Reduced to stencil
      Life which once resembled renaissance
      Becomes fraud when taken from hands of true gods.

      Taken from hands of true gods (x4)

      Chorus:

      Seek Redemption in each sentence
      (paragraphs relentless)
      Verses flow endless
      (violence stays senseless)
      Change written script on torn page.
      (Its all the same)
      Assaults we wage became vague.

      Seek Redemption in each sentence
      (paragraphs relentless)
      Verses flow endless
      (violence stays senseless)
      Change written script on torn page.
      (Its all the same)
      Assaults we wage became vague.

      Pennants in paragraphs relentless (x8)

  • Content To Play Villain

    • Lyrics

      1.
      Lost sense of belonging
      Beliefs breached by knowing
      Knot lodged in throat couldn't cope with this moment
      Phrase falls like omen
      Violence condoned
      Prone to rip the same flesh your holding
      Doldrums of life seem redundant
      Yet tend to sow seeds of conundrum
      in adverse abundance
      Some lack substance to verbalize existence
      Some slit wrists well good riddance
      Indifferent to men who act children in face of adversity
      Death's the one certainty
      So called eternity fed intravenously
      As relief from misery
      Manufactured by men who attempt to play deity
      What you see in me?
      Seething reality
      Bathed in brutality
      The one to prove your facts to be fallacy
      As my lungs expand, so do galaxies
      Gained experience through tragedy
      Transcend average travesty to speak an ancient wisdom
      Hidden content burnt at stake by religion
      i don't give a fuck what you're feelin'
      Toss frail frames off of buildings
      Content to play villain.

  • Lynch

  • Stagnant Waters

    • Lyrics

      1.
      Corner blocks unlocked
      Mysteries they not
      Men and women shed tears when our peoples get shot
      Multiply fears turns person to flock
      Gospel don't read to let no man walk
      Water stays wet and less we forget
      Inept failures of corrupt government
      Child wonders where and why her mother went
      Whole communities not fed
      Declared Marshal Law instead
      Derailed all progress
      Inaction of congress costs lives
      Tide rise
      Tore through Leadbelly's levy
      A saturated heart stays heavy
      Can't help but wonder if my masses stand ready
      Revolutions cost lives
      But an idle mind's deadly.

      chorus:

      Barefoot exodus
      Where's that plateau?
      Thrown to wolves by our own
      Can't trust a single soul
      Should have known
      Carcass lays prone in stagnant waters
      Epitaphs have no authors
      Patient paupers
      My nation of martyrs
      Turned mourners
      We all lead to slaughter
      Last breath on street (corner)

      2.
      Surmise ill situations devised to kill neighbors
      Separated families back when they enslaved us
      Made refugees of taxpayers
      Truth's layered
      Lies burn like paper
      our soul's bare
      Yo i need my peoples
      (We right here!)
      Got to fight tanks with fists son
      (We don't care!)

      chorus:

      Barefoot exodus
      Where's that plateau?
      Thrown to wolves by our own
      Can't trust a single soul
      Should have known
      Carcass lays prone in stagnant waters
      Epitaphs have no authors
      Patient paupers
      My nation of martyrs
      Turned mourners
      We all lead to slaughter
      Last breath on street corner

      3.
      Coroners crept in same corridors
      Fear of death left once you slept with the poor
      Mathematics once taught to men by the Moors
      Lost to Spanish eyes viewing Mayans as whores
      Corps of Engineers slice throat of 9 wards
      Suggest you hold breath for 9 more
      Divine swords chop neck of the wicked
      Wounds self inflicted
      Felt the Earth's plates shifting
      Cracks in foundations of system
      Watch the sunrise from a distance
      Defines what we missing.

  • Starved For Truth

    • Lyrics

      1.
      Frame of reference readjusted
      Life's out of focus
      Await swarms of locus
      They never came
      Guilt washed away with dark rain
      Retained sense of self seen in rippled puddle
      deconstructed simple structure
      Left lung punctured
      Punctuates precise statement in relation to struggle
      demeanor seems subtle but rugged
      Speech that's send shutters undone with
      Wisdom filled lament
      Respect minimal
      At most 5%
      Watch the weak chested vent minstrel music
      Men play pretend
      These acts ain't amusing
      Propagate illusions of ignorant underclass
      My people understand much more than gun blast
      Entire generation feels trapped
      Stifled our attempts to advance
      Silenced sniper rifle found in hands cause of ill circumstance

      Chorus:
      No excuse for this path we choose
      My niggas just starved for truth
      Sick of watching puppet strings move
      These drums never soothe
      Communicate to core of youth
      What to prove?
      Mental aimed to spark that fuse in these crews

      No excuse for this path we choose
      My niggas just starved for truth
      Sick of watching puppet strings move
      These drums never soothe
      Communicate to core of youth
      What to prove?
      Mental aimed to spark that fuse in these crews
      Got intellect in ranks along with straight goons
      Retuned vocal chords to absorb direct wounds.

      2.
      Resume with similar staggered step
      Never slept.
      Every minor breath under constant threat
      Armor shed now left to fend for self
      What we dealt just alludes to dysfunction
      Disproved your assumptions
      Acts connect with synapse to react at right moment
      Paragraphs stay potent
      vicious mind molten
      Burnt offerings with thoughts like explosions
      False notions fall to night's oceans
      Clench fists at past that's eroding
      Empty clips can't fix what's inherently flawed
      Forgave inane who inevitably end with broke jaw
      Verses kept raw
      i keep yall enthralled with schemes that prompt awe
      Now await regimes to fall with precision
      Envision politicians embalmed while still living.

      Chorus:
      No excuse for this path we choose
      My niggas just starved for truth
      Sick of watching puppet strings move
      Yo These drums never soothe
      Communicate to core of youth
      What to prove?
      Mental aimed to spark that fuse in these crews

      No excuse for this path we choose
      My niggas just starved for truth
      Sick of watching puppet strings move
      These drums never soothe
      Communicate to core of youth
      What to prove?
      Mental aimed to spark that fuse in these crews

      No excuse for this path we choose
      My niggas just starved for truth
      Sick of watching puppet strings move
      Yo These drums never soothe
      Communicate to core of youth
      What to prove?
      Mental aimed to spark that fuse in these crews
      Got intellect in ranks along with straight goons

  • Isolated Stare

    • Lyrics

      1.
      I felt that isolated stare from a million pairs of eyes
      Burnt this feeling into retina used as rhythmic device
      Devise an ill supply unrefined imagery
      Can express captured hatred quite vividly
      Won't resort to use of single simile
      (Your) actions simply savage to a god's symmetry
      You lack civility
      descend from men of caves
      While we gave the gift of cities
      My people's architects
      Your actions parasitic
      When it comes to artforms get it straight son we live it
      If this was '85 i'd be telling you yall bit it
      i'll play eternal cynic
      The tongues i speak intrinsic
      Linguistics lodged in larynx made the words you spit transparent
      Tales known to Two divided lives collide at Varick
      Reformed in form of lyrics
      A page of hieroglyphics
      Marks mathematics of a people's true existence
      When force exceeds resistance
      It's our core that loses vision.

      2.
      Restored glory just to be reduced to rubble
      Dismantled culture's last gasp is never subtle
      Common psyche troubled
      Infants drown in puddles
      Shallow answers sabotage attempts at weak rebuttal
      You'd miss my essence even if you wrote this verse verbatim
      Deranged sense of rhythm gives this griot endless patience
      Obtained ancient manuscript said to hold salvation
      It read "your quest for fairy tales will lead to more frustration."
      Formulated thought now condensed to pure equation
      arithmetic of breath coincides with vicious nature.

  • Corrupt (Knuckle Up)

    • Lyrics

      1.
      I script gutter beats and scribes lyrics
      Sounds to resonate for days off these ears that simply fear it
      Situate my verse six inches off curb
      Eternally perturbed
      When will these kids learn?
      I watch with concern of elder statesman
      Only breathed for three decades
      but displayed i ain't vacant
      Ranks of MC's infested with fakeness
      It's time to act like men and reawake this
      With blatant aim at cranium
      I dispel your bitch rumors
      Tuned to blocks with hangers
      Wires giving tumors
      Never write my songs for consumers
      Ironic cause i write for heads with fat laces on their Pumas
      Poisonous pen drips ink with each thought
      the antidote you sought's been lost
      Your hand's forced
      Your truth? False
      Corrupt world crumbles under feet
      Detect deceit on these streets.

      Chorus:

      World's corrupt but you still want more?
      (We want more!)
      That's what's up cause we all stay poor
      (We stay poor!)
      Time's up but you still what more?
      (We want more!)
      Knuckle up cause we ready for war!

      World's corrupt but you still want more?
      (We want more!)
      That's what's up cause we all stay poor
      (We stay poor!)
      Time's up but you still what more?
      (We want more!)
      Knuckle up cause we ready for war!

      2.
      Caught me mid thought at quarter paragraph
      Parallel lives aligned at gallows
      Gallantly attack while our armies amassed
      disastrous results to be read past tomorrow
      Never one to follow i lead with staggered step
      Bring the vilest subject to forefront
      Forecast is grim for our type gentlemen
      My mom's taught me right in her fog of saint's statues
      Spit a verse i'll match you
      Never need to battle
      Ask my nigga Dev we left lungs at waterfront
      Give a fuck where you're from
      It's how that mind rattles
      Intelligence fatal in this nation of cattle
      The notion of freedom straight babble
      Child of Babylon that traveled foreign soil
      Within core of heart lies eternal turmoil.

      Chorus:

      World's corrupt but you still want more?
      (We want more!)
      That's what's up cause we all stay poor
      (We stay poor!)
      Time's up but you still what more?
      (We want more!)
      Knuckle up cause we ready for war!

      World's corrupt but you still want more?
      (We want more!)
      That's what's up cause we all stay poor
      (We stay poor!)
      Time's up but you still what more?
      (We want more!)
      Knuckle up cause we ready for war!

      World's corrupt but you still want more?
      (We want more!)
      That's what's up cause we all stay poor
      (We stay poor!)
      Time's up but you still what more?
      (We want more!)
      Knuckle up cause we ready for war!

      World's corrupt but you still want more?
      (We want more!)
      That's what's up cause we all stay poor
      (We stay poor!)
      Time's up but you still what more?
      (We want more!)
      Knuckle up cause we ready for war!

      3.
      Forgive the bluntness of these statements
      Bloodstains are hard to erase like krylon
      Komplx sentence spoken again in dälek
      to give it the weight it deserves and expects
      Peace to my nigga Rek
      At noon we resurrect to resume this vicious cycle
      Precious wine seems so vital when eyes been bloodshot
      Recite slurred truths and whatnot to few heads that still nod
      Fuck these fake sucka frauds
      Formulating freestyles that ring false
      Sick of these Yeses and Yalls
      I need that boom bap with bass like Lou Rawls
      To make walls of Jericho fall
      Son you'll never find iller verses than mine
      Gave inner sight to the blind through speech
      Without having skin of god's bleached.

  • Tarnished

    • Lyrics

      1.
      Adapt to daylight that breaks over roofs on horizon
      Split chest to concrete to clear sinus
      Letters curve like true writers
      Respect due to Phase2
      Bombs grew from angst of knuckled fighters

      EFX:

      The ones who fell in urban combat
      the ones who never cared to adapt
      The ones in life who always felt trapped
      The ones who made a real impact
      The ones who molded exactly where these thought sat.

      Verses amplified acoustically through wires
      Makes perfect sense in mind with liquored virus
      It all makes sense when mind's on liquored virus
      Traveled under soil with Osiris
      Birth and death of modern world on the Tigris
      Why fight this?
      Okt nigga why you even mic this?
      Most the rest of world don't even like us
      Ink flow from pen to raw papyrus
      12 straight hours doing work ain't even tired
      Tried and hung from sycamore
      cause i attempt to play Picasso for the poor
      No one wants to hear this lion's roar
      No one wants to hear a lion's roar
      Attempts on life are insured
      With truths i spit on tours
      Bourge muthafukas expect us on all fours
      Use brute force when i need to underscore
      the perfect paragraph always hit block raw
      Hits blocks (raw).

      chorus:

      Endure the everyday, remain tarnished
      truth is all tarnished
      Corner stoops is all tarnished
      Even when it's strength we try to harness
      My mental stay tarnished
      The way we act on streets is all tarnished
      Even when we meek we still tarnished
      All the words we speak is mad tarnished
      The core of man tarnished

      2.
      They say at best we tamed savage
      this train of thought kept collective souls all ravished
      Raised a weary fist to catch my breath above the gutter
      gave away our hope and dignity as not to smother
      We still suffer!
      Tragedy at times results in stutter
      Stability off kilter
      Resist within oppression
      the struggle is our weapon
      Perhaps this is the blessing
      Existence as the lesson.

      EFX:

      Ink flow from pen to raw papyrus
      12 straight hours doing work ain't even tired
      Tried and hung from sycamore
      cause i attempt to play Picasso for the poor
      No one wants to hear this lion's roar
      No one wants to hear a lion's roar
      Attempts on life are insured
      With truths i spit on tours
      Bourge muthafukas expect us on all fours

      No need to mention where we is or where we at
      Instead i reminisce on all my peoples that we lost Black
      The ones who molded exactly where these thought sat
      The ones who taught me how to act
      The ones who fell in urban combat
      the ones who never cared to adapt
      The ones in life who always felt trapped
      The ones who made a real impact
      The ones who had the qualities your average man lacks
      Commit their memories to wax
      In fact commit their very tarnished essence to the core of (this track).

      chorus:

      Endure the everyday, remain tarnished
      truth is all tarnished
      Corner stoops is all tarnished
      Even when it's strength we try to harness
      My mental stay tarnished
      The way we act on streets is all tarnished
      Even when we meek we still tarnished
      All the words we speak is mad tarnished
      The core of man tarnished

      Endure the everyday, remain tarnished
      truth is all tarnished
      Corner stoops is all tarnished
      Even when it's strength we try to harness
      My mental stay tarnished
      The way we act on streets is all tarnished
      Even when we meek we still tarnished
      All the words we speak is mad tarnished
      The core of man tarnished

  • (Subversive Script)

    • Lyrics

      chorus:

      What you fear nigga? I peeped you ball that fist.
      You can't walk these streets cause you ain't equipped
      What you fear nigga? I peeped you ball that fist.
      You can't walk these streets cause you ain't equipped
      What you fear nigga? We deep from Bronx to Bricks
      We speak that deadverse, subversive script!

      1.
      Equate physical with first light and last breath
      Obtained impossible from incept of this quest
      Cave your puffed chest if you act like you best
      Flow monosyllabic 'til you prove intellect
      Ingest filthy water to survive this trek
      Weary of these kids with clear eyes who inspect
      First draft of manuscripts never reach depths
      The kid who tagged along that you thought of as pest
      Grew to 5'6" with thick skin
      Hispanic
      Dome contains wisdom within words we manic
      My anger seems standard
      I've grimaced since youth
      A smile's of no use when it's death we speak to.

      2.
      Subdued speech pattern now seems familiar
      Fear derived from ignorance makes sense in circumstance
      Advanced gesture tell tale
      Draw line in sand
      Mistake to reawake ones who claim to understand
      Remain rugged eyes open
      Clench first fist over hand
      Mental stay potent 'till gasps of broken man
      Eyes keep focusing
      Styles you noticing
      Diseased because i am.

      chorus:

      What you fear nigga? I peeped you ball that fist.
      You can't walk these streets cause you ain't equipped
      What you fear nigga? I peeped you ball that fist.
      You can't walk these streets cause you ain't equipped
      What you fear nigga? I peeped you ball that fist.
      You can't walk these streets cause you ain't equipped
      What you fear nigga? We deep from Bronx to Bricks
      We speak that deadverse, subversive script!
      What you fear nigga? I peeped you ball that fist.
      You can't walk these streets cause you ain't equipped
      What you fear nigga? I peeped you ball that fist.
      You can't walk these streets cause you ain't equipped
      What you fear nigga? We deep from Bronx to Bricks
      We speak that deadverse, subversive script!

      chorus:

      What you fear nigga? I peeped you ball that fist.
      You can't walk these streets cause you ain't equipped
      What you fear nigga? I peeped you ball that fist.
      You can't walk these streets cause you ain't equipped
      What you fear nigga? I peeped you ball that fist.
      You can't walk these streets cause you ain't equipped
      What you fear nigga? We deep from Bronx to Bricks
      We speak that deadverse, subversive script!

dälek – Abandoned Language

Album Reviews

On their fourth record, Abandoned Language, electronica- and progressive-minded rap group Dälek continues their exploration of the netherworlds of hip-hop, where dark, plodding, sewer-gas production churns with MC/producer dälek’s nearly spoken rhymes. Beats are moody and delicately urgent, live strings and horns mix in with hollow drums and delayed keyboard chords, and everything is very purposeful, even in the occasional cacophony that folds itself out from amid the slow melody. The same attention to detail and effect is given to the lyrics, which again and again return to the idea of language, both oral and written. It’s not a concept album, but it has definite themes that it examines. “The tongues I speak intrinsic/Linguistics lodged in larynx made the words you spit transparent,” dälek rhymes in “Isolated Stare,” where he hails the power of communication and its ability to guide and direct, while on “Bricks Crumble,” he recognizes its longevity, how it can remain while the physical inevitably cannot. “Words strengthen emotions they foster/Bricks crumble under feet of this author,” he says, acknowledging that even he is reduced to transience while what he writes goes on. But the MC, despite the fact that his career revolves around his syntactical ability, is also aware of language’s limitations. The songs on the album have much more time and space dedicated to instrumental wanderings than to words — “Lynch,” in fact, has no lyrics at all — as if he and co-producer Oktopus realize that there are things that just can’t be said, that are better conveyed through notes and chords, that sometimes “tongues stick” and stories are “scripted” and “the words we speak are mad tarnished,” that mortality and flawed humanity get in the way of pure communication. This certainly is the cause of some conflict for Dälek, heard in the way the saxophones twist with the violins, in the way the vocals distort and fade out, a conflict that is never quite resolved. Instead, the album does what all great art does: guides its audience without giving them concrete answers (or even directions), forcing them to think for themselves instead of blindly following others, and eventually leading them, hopefully, to some kind of greater, albeit more complex, understanding of things.

 

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