Artist: Busdriver
Album: Jhelli Beam
Year: 2009
Grade: 3 pretzels
Busdriver can be a challenge to listen to. The LA-based rapper has built his career on his terrifying ability to speak incredibly fast, engulfing the listener in a flood of words, flying past at supersonic speeds. On one hand, the talent this style requires is absolutely astonishing and listening to Busdriver’s records leaves you with a decent amount of respect for the man’s skills. At the same time, however, his songs can become very hard to enjoy on any non-cerebral level. The torrent of nouns and word associations can become overwhelming very quickly. Jhelli Beam is just his latest reminder of how true all this really is.
Opening with a damning indictment, with a voice saying “conscious rap failed us,” the album seems to have an inordinate number of songs attacking modern rap, in both its mainstream and “underground” varieties. The most obvious of these is “Least Favorite Rapper”, which attacks people who claim to sell “more drugs than the FDA.” “Your favorite rapper is extravagant, aside from his pompous name, he’s like a nursery, with more cribs than John McCain,” says guest rapper Nocando. The song goes on to attack every target conceivable, with some lines working (“I’m your least favorite Flavor Flav impersonator”) and others leaving the listener scratching his or her head in confusion (“you know what I Idi Amin, I feel like the Last King of Scotland”).
When listening to Busdriver, you have to accept that he’s the kind of guy who has no problems rhyming “intestines” with “Charlton Heston.” Some of his songs create something truly amazing from this onslaught of language, but just as many disintegrate into confusion and painful strangeness. One of the quickest ways Busdriver alienates his listeners seems to be by having his voice and the music operating in totally different, irreconcilable keys, as he does here on “Fishy Face”. Just keeping up with Busdriver’s lyrics is hard enough. Add in some music that is oozing and sliding all over the place and Jhelli Beam quickly becomes irritating.
At the more positive side of the spectrum, the album does have some enjoyable tracks, such as the stomping “Quebec And Back” and the handclap-driven “Manchuria”, which features Busdriver chanting a mantra of sorts over a strong rhythmic backdrop. The lead single, “Me-Time (With The Pulmonary Palimpsests)”, is another good place for anyone not already acclimated to his lunatic style to start. But songs with titles like “Scoliosis Jones” are still confusing as fuck. Busdriver’s style is too dense and overpowering to ever achieve any kind of real success, but he certainly makes for an interesting and entertaining oddity in the vast spectrum of rap music. In many ways, I’m glad most rappers don’t have the courage/insanity to make this kind of music, but the world definitely needs a few who live this far out on the edge.
Opening with a damning indictment, with a voice saying “conscious rap failed us,” the album seems to have an inordinate number of songs attacking modern rap, in both its mainstream and “underground” varieties. The most obvious of these is “Least Favorite Rapper”, which attacks people who claim to sell “more drugs than the FDA.” “Your favorite rapper is extravagant, aside from his pompous name, he’s like a nursery, with more cribs than John McCain,” says guest rapper Nocando. The song goes on to attack every target conceivable, with some lines working (“I’m your least favorite Flavor Flav impersonator”) and others leaving the listener scratching his or her head in confusion (“you know what I Idi Amin, I feel like the Last King of Scotland”).
When listening to Busdriver, you have to accept that he’s the kind of guy who has no problems rhyming “intestines” with “Charlton Heston.” Some of his songs create something truly amazing from this onslaught of language, but just as many disintegrate into confusion and painful strangeness. One of the quickest ways Busdriver alienates his listeners seems to be by having his voice and the music operating in totally different, irreconcilable keys, as he does here on “Fishy Face”. Just keeping up with Busdriver’s lyrics is hard enough. Add in some music that is oozing and sliding all over the place and Jhelli Beam quickly becomes irritating.
At the more positive side of the spectrum, the album does have some enjoyable tracks, such as the stomping “Quebec And Back” and the handclap-driven “Manchuria”, which features Busdriver chanting a mantra of sorts over a strong rhythmic backdrop. The lead single, “Me-Time (With The Pulmonary Palimpsests)”, is another good place for anyone not already acclimated to his lunatic style to start. But songs with titles like “Scoliosis Jones” are still confusing as fuck. Busdriver’s style is too dense and overpowering to ever achieve any kind of real success, but he certainly makes for an interesting and entertaining oddity in the vast spectrum of rap music. In many ways, I’m glad most rappers don’t have the courage/insanity to make this kind of music, but the world definitely needs a few who live this far out on the edge.
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