dälek – Negro, Necro, Nekros
Album Reviews
No Doctor Who exterminator here: That name’s pronounced “dialec[t],” son, and it’s how you officially refer to MC Will Brooks of Newark, N.J. He and his DJ friend The Oktopus (Alap Momin) took the industrial rap of Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy, switched out the political polemics for reflective Atmosphere-ics and violently misanthropic Gravedigga-isms, and delivered them in a slam style from somewhere in the near future, maybe between Eminem and Saul Williams. Negro Necro Nekros relied on implied dark truths about the world and Dälek’s place in it: “Should wrap this mic cable round your vertebrae / ‘Til your vocal’s strained / Some say I’m deranged / I ate the paintchips off my window pane / Just to dull the pain. I must maintain” are typical chilling thoughts from “Three Rocks Blessed.” Further muddying the waters are some wildly left-field samples and arrangements. There’s a grumbling William S. Burroughs haunting “Images of .44 Casings,” rattling Miles Davis noise in “The Untravelled Road,” and ethnic drones and disembodied rhythms throughout suggesting the edge of acceptable avant garde — think Material, think Muslimgauze. One of a scant few EPs (though admittedly a long one) strong enough to crack these yearly lists, it established Dälek as rap’s ultimate sad panda. It’s also one of the genre’s few answers to that great musical challenge of “you’ll dance to anything,” obliterating any remaining boundaries between this so-called black music and any so-called white musics surrounding it. – Adam Blyweiss