Jeru The Damaja once mentioned something about letting his ‘mindspray’, and at that time a lyric from ‘D. Original’ constituted an unloading of rhyme-ammunition few could withstand, wordplay of un-fuckwitable proportions. But today his spray pans out to be nothing more than a mere faucet leak in the vast lyrical diarrhea ocean that is Dose One. Complexities in flow and verse construction that leave herds of heads dumbfounded in its aftermath. Melding spoken word tactics with foundational rhyme patterns only to be diced and spliced and then diced again, the other level of that next level. Leaving the bung of Cincinnati for the sun of the Bay Area and joining forces with another transplant (via Chicago), producer Jel , the two convene to create something so unrivaled it could only be labeled as “Them”.

“Hi, my name is Dose. My interests are the middle of nowhere and products of the stolen steal Orchid” opens “Directions To My Special Place” a surprisingly traditional track produced by fellow Ohio-ian J. Rawls. Musically traditional in the sense of Rawl’s beat construction, following similar suit with his past Lone Catalysts creations – although quite complicated in the emcee’s lyrical labyrinth. The listener could either end up like Jack Nicholson at the end of The Shining, bugged the fuck out with a frozen brain or like his bowl-cut seed, free from the constricting conventions of their past (blase’ appers). “Eating Homework” is the manic manifesto in the name of all those misguided by education. Jel does wonders with a telephone noise and the SP while Dose seamlessly runs a lawnmower of rhymes over our school systems enough to make KRS-ONE drop the Temple Of Hip-Hop and start eating meat. “Lyrical Cougel” brings together the Anticon kindred Sole & pedestrian over a smashing Moodswing 9 loop. In fact, the bass saturates the headphones so much that it’s hard to keep up with the rappers who themselves felt competing with the superb track. But the pinnacle of Dose and Jel’s work is undoubtedly “It’s Them”. In all it’s hypnotic glory, Dose conjures imagery too intangible to quote as Jel successfully reconstructs the same beat down in several different patterns only to heighten the tenseness of the beautifully disturbing trip. Dose ponders “Really, I wonder is this all material” only to conclude “It’s not actually bad rap I just don’t feel it. There, I said it”.

On the peak of the Anticon crest, Them collectively threaten the well being of conventional Hip-Hop. This is far from innocent boom bap and probably the farthest we’ve gotten. Traditional in it’s foundation but underneath bubbling with the gaseous elements of Hip-Hop Hell, catch them now before they’re your drill sergeants of the concentration camps of the year 3000.