“Manifest” (procured by K-Otix’s The Are) sizzles with a dirty back and forth juggle Blue Note to Brand Nubian, whatever you want, as Sands parlays that packed-apartment drunk-freestyle gathering to the tip top. With a velvety voice to make your mama cry, it’s not what he says but
how it sounds, and hopefully mom duke isn’t paying too close attention otherwise his lyrics kinda sting like girl who got the 40 poured over her grill. For much of the album is straight dogging ? and while topically Sands relies on realistic accounts, your wife and sister might not want to admit to being on that receiving end so eagerly. “N.A.B.’s (‘Nuttin’ Ass Broads’)” might remind you of a teenage Common but runs down the line of, to say the least, not-so-good relationships. That’s just to start, “Too Much Pussy” is a true throwback as Sands depicts a lurid party where he finds himself locked in a room 6 girls and he’s just “chillin’ stupid fly, because I got stupid gear”. Dibbling into the repercussions is “Dirty Dick” which is mildly more regretful for his infidelities but as a bachelor there’s really no need to worry. The collabo with partner Rawls gets busy, with a dirty Joe Tex chop setting a hilariously fun vibe for Sands and Rawls to kick the back and forth so EPMD you’ll be doing the cabbage patch in your seat immediately. Giving the concept that most of the album follows, I’ll let you guess what this song could be out.

     There’s been slash of over-critism in regards to this release, as some have claimed it an unjust follow-up at any of the much more mindful Lone Catalysts material, but it’s vital to relax your ideals a bit when taking this on. If you’ve never drank alcohol before, this would be a great album to start on. It’s simply a party within. You know all the beats, they’re all freaked with a drunken-exceptionalism and just right to take a load off and have a little fun. And remember, having fun is the unspoken 5th Element of Hip-Hop.   

     If you’re new to the Blowed collection, this album will be a suitable introduction to their more contemporary leanings. A onetime slow-rolling Jazz-infused smoking-channel, this new release milleniumizes the whole affair trading the vintage Fat Jack production (leant for only 2 cuts) for the electrified clap of Afterlife brethren Riddlore (C.V.E.). Hard songs, aligned for the club, that in a different world would be loved in the clubs, but may be overlooked by an audience that embrace it. Yet all along, lyrical inflections and excellent deliveries arise – and set the 18 song
collection on an obviously higher plane of consciousness.

    Driven by figure-piece Aceyalone, shot from his new home at the Decon (Love & Hate, One Big Trip), The Good Brothers is a solid representation of Project Blowed, a nice slice of Los Angeles and a definite proper platform for some prominent talents of the camp that have yet to share the fortune of popularity that Acey and some others in within the compilation have enjoyed.
 
     As a stand-out, Jah Orah whips the plucky “Community” into excitement with the dancehall chat to complement Ace and Ridd. The latter two man the decks rather permanently throughout as Riddlore controls more than half the album’s  production with Eddie Hayes leaving a vocal stamp on all but 5 songs. Project Blowed outsiders are welcome with a Good Brother greeting as the likes of Ahmad and Pep Love enter the raucous for the lead single “Give It Here” (check for the video) and Rakaa-Iriscience impressively shutters in for the RJD2 horn/guitar slashed “Rock With Us”. 

     A true highlight is Riddlore. Pittering and pattering on the basic “When You See Me” (self-produced), Ridd’s hold company in a slew of emcee’s (a la The Rifleman Ellay Khule and the rest of C.V.E. and Hip Hop Kclan) more the willing to let style run wild in rhyme pattern and cadence. Illustrating how its not necessarily what you say, but how you say it (“My style is simple, my life is too”). Which has been an unheard motto throughout, keeping each affiliated release (from the higher profile, like this, to the homemade, like so many equally interesting albums). The Good Brothers accept all in their circle, so thankfully they’ve chosen some incredibly good rappers to signify their credo.

, which would ultimately lead to the reinvention of Prince Paul for this new generation of the hip-hop world we live and breath in today. Paired next to Handsome Boy Modeling School and

, two wildly conceived, conceptual entities both embraces and displaced by many.

But here we go. He’s got a brand new one out and no one knows what to do with it. Kiss or diss, kiss or diss? The press has had a hard time embracing the project as a whole, the production, it’s not Prince Paul-like. The songs, they’re not very Prince Paul-esque. The skits, hey, those are definitely on some Prince Paul shit (read: “Princepaulonline.com”, “The Drive By”). Now that everyone can agree upon. But the most important element of all Prince Paul projects is what’s being overlooked here. The parody. Did people actually think Spinal Tap was a group? Well then, no it was parody. As is this.

Politics of the Business could be seen as Prince Paul’s revolt in the form of hip-hop hilarity, a literal impersonation of a rap industry gone awry in the form of a bizarro rush-hour urban-contemporary broadcast. Literal in the sense that while its songs are well produced and packaged with some incredible vocal collaborations, the sense of mockery toward the popular rap lexicon (read: urban radio) is at times overwhelming. From collaborations between Guru  and Planet Asia (“Not Trying To Hear That”) and Kokane and Masta Ace (“So What”) to Tash Of The Liks with the Beatnuts (“Chryme Pays”) and, better yet, MF Doom paired with Chubb Rock  and Wordsworth (“People, Places, and Things”), the producer spares no effort in gathering an overwhelming slew of upper-echelon guests. Speaking through them all in an undertone of rap industrial disgust.

Didn’t have any singles? Tommy Boy snaps, the answer, an album full of wanna-be singles. Just like almost every other rap album that sells over 10,000 copies these days. Listeners heed the words of Chuck D and Ice-T on the brief title track:  “you can’t just say ‘fuck the music business’, you gotta understand the business and get in where you fit in.” Putting together the pieces of hip-hop he finds puzzling we continue.

“Drama Queen” finds Dave from De La with old buddy Truth Enola in one of the more Prince Paul-typical sounding efforts, in a painful ode to the everlasting strain a music career can place upon relationships. Waifty synths ride atop the pleasant pairing of the complementary associates. A similar outcome bubbles from the album’s one unknown artist W. Ellington Felton and his “Beautifully Absurd”. Felton who Paul met after a show in Washington D.C., got a ride and demo from him and soon received a call-back to re-craft the folksy lovesick parable. Boogie Down Productions drums bodyguard the twinkling chord progression (by K. Alyn), as Felton delivers an impressive projection and heart-felt painting.

So, you’re still down and out coz you can’t see the punchline? Then listen to some old De La, Paul’s obviously surpassed your sense of humor. But then again, when did we start listening to rap albums for shits and giggles as much as noggin nods? I think it was sometime around after 3 Feet High and Rising dropped. Hmm…

While the upwardly mobile half of the two, El Da Sensei penetrated a burgeoning independent industry soon after the split with a stout selection of records (on more different labels than you can find at Lower East Side fruit stand), his nottyheaded equivalent didn’t surge out so well. Granted, occasional appearances (Ambush, Redman, Miilkbone) shed a little light on the growingly elusive emcee, not to mention a couple 12′s over the past few years. Yet still the guttural delivery, the harsh spit-back, the elements that a yet-to-be-labeled backpack generation adored so much in this emcee, we close to lost forever.

In a whimsical effort, Tame One finds a home. Interestingly enough and thankfully on the well kept Eastern Conference  imprint, supplied with a competent production roster to boot (DJ Mighty Mi, RJD2, J-Zone, Reef, Camu Tao) and delivered is the redemption of Mr. Tame One. Still guttural like a muthafucka!!!

Tame takes, When Rappers Attack, as his state of the union, and while topically rapping about how wack the industry is and how wack everyone is, has definitely been covered before, its a concept  we hip-hoppers can truly relate to and even gravitate towards. Closing his album the way he commences it, “Homage To The Bomberz” and “When Rappers Attack” present a focused drive within the dusted parameters of Tame One’s brain.  Where El Da Sensai’s previous full length at times carried the weight of too many musical directions (and perhaps tracks), When Rappers Attack, feels slightly more focalized. Slightly.

“Moment I Feared” marking an honestly appropriate ode to one of Slick Rick?s many masterpieces, is simply irresistible while “Up To No Good Again” bounces back and forth a la the Showbiz remix to “The Ultimate” (remember how they bounced?). Yet Artifact comparisons aside, Tame is no doubt the same as he ever once was. Dusted, disgusted with hands littered with paint stains. While Tame has gone on record and stated that When Rappers Attack is in some way his very own litmus test, to see whether or not the heads of today are still checking for him, he’s a veteran to most of the critically acclaimed of today, and with an above average full length to boot, all should pay Tame his respects.  This should definitely Tame’s name out there, even if they’ve already buffed it off the walls.

The J.B.’s impact overseas held down notoriety that faded in the States soon
after their under appreciated fourth album, (Gee Street Records), dropped and
subsequently flip flopped. For many a fan, the love was lost even as soon as their
third, the strange made it’s rounds. But as so many otherwise considered “fallen off” American artists have found, no matter what, outside of the overtly saturated domestic market, they’ll always have some more love abroad. Which might of lead to silly dance-pop records that began to define the JB’s sound of late and even much of these 11 cuts. Slices like “Candy” (“you make me say ohh, you look good enough to eat” crooned hooks) and “Let’s Get Away” play out like the soundtrack to a midlife crisis getaway that even the house-giant tagged executive producer credits of Todd Terry couldn’t save from actual Jungle Brothers’ fans hating on.

Yet with the bad comes the wonderful and there are defining moments of unadulterated J.B. flare that spark in the likes of the title track, “All That We Do” and “Do You Thing”. Both simply smashingly live contributions both vocally and behind the boards, alive with thriving instrumentation (electrified) and while not conceptually much different than the rest of the album (simple braggadocio and open ended dance-alignments) the presence of Afrika and Mike G. rebirth themselves in front of the most questioning of older fans. The ominous “Love & Hate” isn’t much of a story but its lush neo-afro JB’isms bring the needle back for a visit a few more times.

Outside of a hand full of harmonizing singers, is collabo-less, which feels like a good move here. The Jungle Brothers claim this album as testament of “the best that we can do”, and given their track record, their history and overall influence on so many of hip-hop’s pioneering next schoolers (ala De La Soul, Tribe Called Quest, The Beatnuts (whose name was given to them by the JB’s), and so many others) this effort isn’t so off the mark. They haven’t forgotten their past (“Let Me” flips an intro of the classical “I Gotta Like That”) and make a darn alright step for the present.

This, his first official solo debut is a mixed bag of all the above. Mild mannered indie-12″ concepts, Artifact throwbacks and outstanding solid smashes. El’s voice carries the weight over both the bland and banging, his consistency is the crux here. A new El is born on light hearted narratives like the tour exploits of “Bouncin” and the sunlight vivid “Summer Time Bluez”.

“So Easily” a lush throwback to those oh so memorable days of The Artifacts bring the listener to question that fateful day the two, emcee El Da Sen and the knotty headed terror Tame One find each other back on track. One can only wonder, especially with Tame’s own less than memorable 12″ run, with mentions made towards him on the fan-remembrance skit “Word On The Street”.

For the flat “Speakin’” or “Focus” you have the incredible in “On & On” (featuring none other than Sadat X) and “Eternally”, proving this album’s handicap, production. El is a lot like his era-counterpart Sadat in that with a distinctive vocal presence, not so distinctive musical accompaniments leave little to complete and compliment a rapper’s potential. El takes a few hits for the team but comes out on top in the grand scheme of this project. He’s been around the block so many times and with so many producers and on so many labels, fleshing out is necessary.

Adding to the oddity, is full production from KXLU 88.9FM (Loyla Marymount University) veteran disc jock, Mike Nardone (see: We Came From Beyond released earlier this year for more details). Nardone, responsible for exposing many a listening head to the likes of Freestyle Fellowship, Dilated Peoples, and more, is the West Coast’s finest college radio DJ – but behind the boards, he’s no Dre (we should know he’s not attempting that either). Given the time of its recording, personifies Awol One within the Shapeshifters mold of the late Nineties, as Nardone slashes strange bassline bubbles atop unkempt drum programming amidst a slew of simple brilliance and occasional agonizing atypicals.

Interestingly enough, also gathers a notable roster of other collaborators from Aceyalone, Abstract Rude, Ryu of Styles of Beyond, Sole (of Anticon), Kool Keith. and brother-from-another-mother, Circus. It’s within these joint ventures that this batch of weird songs are put into
percpective. Ab Rude finds a home twice, and leaves the most memorable imprint of all the guests that arrived. “Eye Am”, a smash-banger from the slept on compilation of a few years back is freshly revisited while “Dew Yew No”, a somber something, is marked as the album highlight just because of the trio’s suburb mesh (leaving the listener wondering what an
album of all 3 individuals together would bump like). Fellow A-Teamer, Aceyalone shows up during a pinnacle of harshness. Like a raw vein, exposed to the L.A. smog, “Public Bathroom” meanders around the subject of a female’s self-inflicted abortion in, of all places, a ‘public
bathroom’. The unimaginative and unprepared should probably slide past this one.

Alone though, is when Awol holds no feeling back, and perhaps with the time between this release and his more recent drops, his views towards himself and society have changed, this is
irregardless, for unadulterated angst, depression and morose ooze from song to song, from the most obvious to subtle ways. This is the Awol heads that know Awol came to love some time ago, he?s no different atop new beats or newer concepts, this is just his point of realization.

Well, ultimately, this is a pretty nice effort. Slug and MURS together are braggadocio personified. But there are no references to Christina Ricci anywhere. So besides, possibly, an unmentioned adoration of the actress between MURS and Slug, this is more or less a collabo for collabo’s sake over Grouch beats. No stalking in sight – which is a bit disappointing, but nonetheless balanced out by some overall solid smackers from the two ‘underground’ giants.

Bumping smackers, these are almost direct club-ditties, at least some of them, which could definitely leave listening masses divided one way or another. Because Grouch isn’t making Fuck The Dumb beats any more and nor are the two emcees rapping like they did 7 years ago. Tracks like “Hot Bars” and “Rick James” simply bubble. In the dancehall, this will jingle jangle; put it in a faithful and oft-hateful heads’ headphones and you might lose a head or two. Balanced back, similarly fun-to-enjoy-listening-to, “Suzanna Vega” and “Another Knight”, simmer down, focalize harder on the female frame a bit and equate to pleasant bumps and simply that. ‘Good Music’ as MURS once proclaimed, straight-forward raps, flashy but blue collar, brash, braggin’ and boastin’. Its Slug and MURS, emcees that won hoards of followers from their twisting confidence on and off stage, say like the Jay-Z/R. Kelly joint, except replace the names and outstanding legality issues.

As for the others mentioned on the cover of this 10 cut (7 vocal, 3 interlude-ish). Musically, The Grouch does a great job carrying the concepts with a brisk touch, a noteworthy contribution from his catalog that’s been dormant in preparation of his own upcoming solo follow-up. Mr. Dibbs though, is virtually nonexistent beside a rhythm scratch here or there, yet namesake wise, I’m sure he was there in spirit. Granted 3 of the 4 artists featured on this album are on a massive tour together right now, thus this is the perfect companion to sell on the road. It’s a quick album, with innocent concepts for quick digestion. Misleading perhaps by the title, this is solid, a worthy collection additive and hopefully the polar-opposite of MURS’ upcoming Def Jux album.

Upon the entrance of nuevo rap/soul/funk-renaissance man Eothen “Egon” Alapatt , the Stones Throw make-up manifested itself into new form. Reborn in the L.A. outskirts, Egon and The Wolf, aside workhorse and now-label definer producer Madlib, shifted the face of Stones Throw from one-off 12″s from the likes of Persevere and Encore and then-defining albums from onetime producer himself, PB Wolf, Rasco and the portal Lootpack album. A sensibility was being established and history was beginning to become cultivated.

A funky precedent was set some 3 years ago, as the label unfurled the first of what is nearing a next to astonishing 23 and counting roster of wildly assorted little black 7″ slabs. Captain Funkaho (also known as designer Jeff Jank) conjured up a wondrously psychedelic ode to Atari’s in “My 2600″. Record collectors were a buzz with the bold concept, the reinvented hip-hop 45, and soon many a label and artist would follow in years to come, releasing there own breeds of varying tiny-styles (labels like Puma Strut, Daptone and Sub-Level Epidemic come to mind). revisits, while not chronologically, Stones Throw’s superior run of the gamut in this still newly bustling 45 game. For the releases that followed the funky-ass Funkaho would each shoot in a different stylistic direction, brick by brick, creating what this compilation has achieved: ultimate variety (even if Madlib is half of the album).

The album highlights the many classics that arose from the dust kicked up by that strange Funkaho record (still one of the best). From the silly “Flowers” (albeit perhaps the most addictive slice throughout) by Declaime as Dudley Perkins, to Stones Throw original-testament, Charizma’s (R.I.P.) “Devotion ’92″, on to the equally defining Egon influence of reissued rarities by The Highlighters  “Poppin’ Popcorn” and the LA Carnival’s “Color”. Naturally, Madlib The Beat Conductor plays his part, as he so naturally does at this point in Stones Throw’s history, for now, he is essentially the music (at least when it comes to hip-hop) that makes Stones Throw. Having produced almost half of the 45′s releases to this date (as The Beat Conductor, Yesterday’s New Quintet, or for his Lootpack and Medaphoar associates), his presence is undoubtedly felt throughout. But this was Chris Manak’s vision in the first place, to have a jukebox of all dope-ass hip-hop 45′s. Well, this isn’t all hip-hop joints, its all types of music, its all from 45′s and its all from one label. It’s one more defining moment for an ever growing and altering imprint, a great compilation of material and simply, the ideal template for any jukebox, anywhere.

Polished is one good description of Blazing Arrow, in the sense that Chief Xcel and Gift of Gab have connected all the loose ends that left Nia somewhat conceptually tangled, the 17 songs are blazed and segued gracefully, successfully binding the unlearned new-jack to (most of) the know-it-all hard-rocks. This is slick, sturdy, and solid, yet at times perhaps too slick for its own good.

Don’t get your attitude all up in a twist though, because Gab is still nice as fuck on the mic and Xcel is still wickedly underappreciated as a producer, and together actually make great strides as a matured group throughout Blazing Arrow. Penning the complicated and subtle, Gab’s gift is truly exposed on the wild “Chemical Calestenics”, the wilder “Release” and the touching “Nowhere Fast”; the latter exemplifying a neo-soul strut that characterizes much of this album’s conscious. It’s something indicative of their growing up as men, both in the rap world and real world; but something that could also divide fans. Granted, nothing is taken lightly on Blazing Arrow, granted again, most of the hooks are crooned and sung (quite beautifully and tastefully at that) backed by a warm ambience that brings people like Gil Scott Heron (“First In Flight”), Ben Harper (“Brain Washers”), Jaguar Wright (“Aural Pleasure”), and Saul Williams  out the box for interesting collaborations. Is that MTV I hear knocking on the door? Probably. It’s the dawning of an age and with this dawn marks a change, accept it and grow along with your artists, decline and live in the past. It’s on you.

Dusty Baker is pretty dusty. Musically produced entirely by the artist (minus one track by companion DJ, Mike Czech) this is 10 songs of full-force Brady styling. While his debut Battle Axe single, “Let My Record Rotate” might still remain his most memorable slice yet, Dusty Baker still revolves with equated lows and buzzes. The opening, “Vibe Killer ” pounds and is probably the one to revisit most often, for behind the boards Brady meets Rob The Viking and Havoc Of Mobb Deep on just an alright day. In fact, the mentor-ish Tony Da Skitzo’s newer flows on “Everlasting Passion” sum this effort up, perhaps it just been too long since the “Molasses” days, but his welcome presence still isn’t much to make this album stay in play too long. Dirty mood music, squared-up braggadocio, with out a whole lot more to back it up. So raw its soul is scarce.

The Living Legends show forth on 5 of the 18, Battle Axe roster-staples Moka Only, Mr. Brady, LMNO, Buc Fifty, Abstract Rude and Son Doobie all find respected songs, alongside B.C. fav’s the City Planners (Jeff Spec + Ishkan) with random shots from Hobo Junction, Atmosphere and the ever-underexposed Kirby Dominant for good measure. Selection is plentiful to align to a listener’s tastes, but the undeniable jams shouldn’t really go unacknowledged. ASOP bursts-out proper like, energized (proving Murge’s more assertive productions his more memorable) on “Intelligent”. He hones in on a wilder persona and succeeds somewhat gracefully, tapping into a similar explosive nature are the now executive Swollen Members on “Chewing Concrete”, with a nod to their own album opener “Killing Spree”, these should be 12″s. Son Doobie (of Funkdoobiest of course) also works the preparatory angle well (his new album should be interesting) juicing his presence to the utmost on “Shake ‘Em Down”.

But the banger-type creations don’t play the majority of this full length as Murge tends to delve deeper into drowning melodica throughout. LMNO’s “Up & Up” proves the most powerful atop reversed horns and buzzing vibes, as a well placed album closer. Similar tools are utilized for songs with the Mystik Journeymen, Slug, and Ab Rude yet find their grasp loosening on the listener after some time. Only to be picked up by the lesser exposed names a la Jeff Spec on “Got The Get”, solid anthem music and Kirby Dominant on the uplifting, club-ready “What You Got” (you might wonder whose bumping that N.E.R.D. album a bit much from the hook though). The meandering Hobo Junction joint “Meeting Victoria” gets a thumbs up as well, just for being different.

Being different. At times this compilation reaches these peaks of difference while in others caught on a fray of overdrawn intros and abused high hats, but all in all, aside from the particulars this is a solid showing, a good introduction to this producer and an overall fun album to listen to.

Musically, since this release spans so much collected works, the comparatives of Howl atop various producer’s creations (as well as his own) makes for additional entertainment. From longtime collaborator Will Tell to Steve Boston arise cuts like the very roughish “Brooklyn Hard Rock” Pt’s 1 & 2″ and “I Wanna Watch”. When Eminem still did songs over DJ Spinna beats, the two collaborated at the Thingamajig Lab to create “Watch Deez”, a spaced-the-fuck-out Spinna ambience makes for even better trip. One-half of Blahzay Blahzay, producer/DJ P.F. Cuttin and Howl arguably commit this full length’s better crafted works, “Polorican” and “Dreams Of Fucking A Cartoon Bitch”. The Lo Life influence envelops his intensive ode to the ‘lo – as does his grossly affectionate nature to theoretically housing fly female cartoon characters on the latter. But over Cuttin’s hard (as in Large Professor’s remix of “Gotta Get Over”) beats, Howl’s hilariously genius writing skill reaches its pinnacle. We’re left with the closer, “The Alaskan Fisherman”, a direction no one could of foretold. Arctic Thugs. Thirstin Howl III a writer never to be forgotten. – Peter Agoston

While the technology slightly limits where you can listen to the album (some car stereos might not bump), the album packs some serious heat for an indie-project of this stature. There’s not one name your average, or even unlearned, hip-hop head hasn’t heard of. Club smashes from Royce Da 5’9 (“Runnin’”) and Tha Liks’ J-Ro (“What U Lookin At?”) will garner popular heat, even Dan The Automator crosses genres for the cross-genre heads with the funky-ass DTA & The Magic Disco Machine’s “Make the People Sway”. Fittingly, Del takes it out there one probably his more stranger creations of late with the title cut (“One Big Trip”) as Lootpack and Dialted deliver standard if not suitable efforts. The Pack’s “Movies 2 Groupies” makes for a fun spin while the People’s get a bit formulaic on “Downtown” (although it is nice to hear Evidence behind the boards again).

As for Hieroglyphics, “Think Again” stands out as the clutch appearance from the collective. Produced by Domino, each member stands up and at attention upon receiving their spot in the song. Granted, each effort is well conceived, somewhat dragging production may steer some lazy listeners attention after a few spins. Casual keeps his ranks up as well as with a bump-soul connection for “Hydra” though. As “Soweto” and “G.U.O.M.D.” with beats from A-Plus and Opio remind some of lesser fab joints from the last Souls of Mischief full length. All the while, the overall Hiero effort makes for an interesting transition to the eventually dropping album.

Packaged and presented as this, makes for one of the year’s more notable releases, the first of a kind DVD/CD in one with an almost stellar roster of songs from today’s underground-to-overground stars. One Big Trip’s soundtrack is worthy of a little nit-picking but undeniably solid regardless.

Without divulging further into the personal life of Carey, this, his debut full-length, marks the steady work of Grimm’s step past meager 12″ fame. Fans of his shared namesake, MF Doom, will gravitate towards the metal-fingered touch upon the album’s production bulk, and while others contribute, it’s the two together that create the wildly vivid successes of this album. “Life And Death”, a mild musical rehash of the title cut from KMD’s catalog, finds Grimm flexing poetic about his metaphorical pull-push relationship with Life, Death and mistress Coma – a wonderfully written fable only sadly sweetened by the sorrowful history of both Grimm and Doom. “I.B.’s” another Grimm/Doom connection sizes up similar concepts of love lost atop an oddly emotionally backbeat. As Grimm ponders the faithfulness of a lover while behind bars the lingering Audio Two snippet (“I stole your girl while you was in prison”) only ads insult to the penned injury. With 8 songs produced by Doom and a handful more co-produced by the Villain, musically you may be able to gauge the variety found throughout. That’s not to take away from other contributors behind the board, Dr. Butcher and DJ Eli make noteable appearances yet for outsiders it’s dminor and Count Bass-D that take precedence. dminor’s wrapping pianos atop “Together” roll Grimm along superbly for his “story about retarded nigga”. As The Count (who just also released an album through the rising Day By Day imprint) equates the Doom atypics with a powerfully soulful Stevie Wonder chop on “Words”, as Grimm sums these equally wildly emotional albums with “Lord why do you love me? I don’t even love me. Doing things forbidden. Giving into temptation. Murdering your creation. Breaking bread with Satan. My soul feels so cold…dancing with the devil, music feels so evil”. The world is a cold place, yet from prison Grimm reminds his listener the possibility of happiness through music.