One day all hip-hop might well sound like this - a crazed, acid-hazed trip from the light fantastic to the tight-panted fandango, Quasimoto's latest slab o' wax sounds like OutKast making whoopee with Cheech and Chong. Wait, that makes no sense whatsoever. Wait... neither does this record.
'Bus Ride' is a bus ride, on tape, with beats. Some homeless dude asks for some booze; some rap cats ain't got none. "How 'bout some H2O?" joke the wise-assed hip-hoppers. "Okay... what is it?" is the mumbled response.
Oh, the hilarity. You've suckered an old, drunk, drugged dude. You're, like, _so_ cutting edge right now...
But WAIT, again... this is the _goooood _shit, honest - beats that sound as if they're played by letting Slinkies loose from the ceiling - all plink-plonk-blip-bump - coupled with out-of-time rhymes that're so fresh it's a wonder they're written at all.
'Rappcats' namedrops some further rap cats (well d'uh) and 'Greenery' is some fucked-up Smurf-rapped ode to weed. Neither are particularly fantastic. Neither are entirely normal. Like you expected any different after that title track.
Truth be told, this 12" EP is so far out there - where, I dunno - that criticising it is futile. How do you take pot-shots at something you don't totally understand? Maybe I need to suck back on some of that choice greenery for it all to make sense? I hear that's good for expanding the mind, maaaan...
7Mike Diver's Score