Saturday, April 28, 2007

El-P: I'll Sleep When You're Dead (Review)

5 years is a long time, man. Jesus, El, I don't know whether to laugh or to cry.

El-P's first solo jawn, Fantastic Damage, is one of the most creative, best produced hip-hop albums of all time. And while I had always been a fan of El since his Funcrusher Co-Flo days, I didn't see it coming. His production prowess was always lightyears ahead of the majority of his peers, and the Co-Flo instrumental album, Little Johnny From the Hospital, then, later, Cannibal Ox's The Cold Vein, displayed an adept skill for combining "sitars, pots, and pans" into a fascinating soundscape of cohesive chaos; but no one was prepared when he stepped his game up further for 2002's seminal Fantastic Damage. That album is as advertised: an astoundingly beautiful, dope-as-fuck, mosaic of sound that employed everything INCLUDING the kitchen sink and managed to fit together perfectly in spite of itself. It remains as the most groundbreaking hip-hop album, production-wise, since the Wu-Tang Clan's Enter the 36 Chambers (and before that, Dr Dre's The Chronic, preceded by Public Enemy's It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back).

How do you follow up an album like that? Was his sophomore release, I'll Sleep When You're Dead, destined to follow in the footsteps of its predecessors, Wu-Tang Forever, 2001, and Fear of a Black Planet, as great albums -- arguably masterpieces -- which just didn't quite match the innovativeness and refreshing originality of what came before? Tell you what, take five years off from recording and you definitely take a lot of that pressure off yourself.

Is I'll Sleep When You're Dead a better album than Fan Dam? I don't know. Time will tell. It is definitely a tighter affair, clocking in over 15 minutes and 5 tracks shorter than Fantastic Damage. The songs flow together more cohesively, which I guess is saying something in comparison to an album which I consider to be flawless. Also, El is definitely more cocksure on the mic, possessing a swagger that we've in the past only caught glimpses of. Similarly, ISWYD's production often ventures into bolder territory than Fantastic Damage did (again, that's saying something), while still retaining that densely-layered, signature El-Producto sound.

Here is the biggest compliment I can pay I'll Sleep When You're Dead: it is the best hip-hop album released since -- whaddya know? -- Fantastic Damage. I'm still going to pick Damage as the better album, but we're talking Star Wars vs. The Empire Strikes Back/The Godather vs. The Godfather Part II-level comparisons here.

5/5 *_*, naturally.

What follows is a track-by-track breakdown of the album. I'll probably run out of gushing adjectives after about the third song.

Note: Much like Radiohead's last studio album, I considered I'll Sleep When You're Dead to be a prosaic title (and possibly directed at Bush). That is, until I heard El in an interview explain the title is what he imagined New York City would say if it spoke to him. Then it became profound. If Bundang ever spoke to me, I'm sure she'd say, "Go to fucking bed already."

1) Tasmanian Pain Coaster

The album begins with a sample of David Lynch's Fire Walk With Me, then El lyrically paints, amidst eerie, dystopic computer sounds, a picture of New York City at night. By the time the chorus hits, the listener is thrust headfirst into a sonic barrage of boom-bap drums, haunting synth jabs, and spiraling, grinding blips and beeps, like kitchen utensils in a blender. And then...The Mars fucking Volta, ladies and gentlemen. Simply an astounding opener. Seven minutes of perfection.

2) Smithereens (Stop Cryin')

The song's prologue includes someone -- possibly El himself -- grunting "Ungh!" like Master P. Woah! Then, bring the noise as sirens permeate. Frenetic drums propel El's rapid-fire delivery. "Why should I be sober when God is so clearly dusted out his mind?" The time-signature, pace changes seem almost effortless in their mastery. It shouldn't work, and yet it so clearly does. Producers of music in every genre should take pointers from dude.

3) Up All Night

Another fast-paced, hard-hitting, sonic assault. By the way, in case you didn't hear him the first time, El's from Brooklyn. "I might have been born yesterday, but I stayed up all night." The comparisons to the early Bomb Squad production style is wholly apt (a comparison I made 5 years ago upon first listening to Fantastic Damage, and which I'm fucking sick of reading ad nauseam in every review or article about El's works).

4) EMG

I heard this a while ago, on El's MySpace page. Sounds like Rick Ruben -- circa 1986 -- on acid. On acid! THAT is how you respect the architects. "Get over here and buy, you ho." Is this the first Don Quixote reference in hip-hop history? Gotta be.

5) Drive

Crashing drums and plinking piano keys. "Jesus of NASCAReth" Oh no, he didn't!

6) Dear Sirs

I don't know quite exactly how to describe this. Is it an interlude? A mesmerizing track lurks beneath El's spoken word-esque diatribe. He spits venom as the pace quickens and guitars wail. I know this is directed at his nation, but I like to think he's addressing the Miami Heat (and that's the final word for me on the season. I think).


7) Run the Numbers

This is on some 'Laserface's Warning' shit. Aes Rock guests. I'm bobbing my head like a motherfuck right now. It takes guts and skill to make na-na-na-na-na-na-na sound dope. It's impossible for me to pick a favorite track from this album, but this is Sunday's top pick. The epilogue is on some 'TOJ' (possibly my favorite Fan Dam track, btw; it's either that or 'Constellation Funk') metamorphosis shit.

8) Habeas Corpses (Draconian Love)

The concept here could easily have been a mess of corniness. Doesn't happen. Like Slick Rick met a b-grade sci-fi flick and smoked sherm with the cast of Monty Python. "You know, you look really pretty without handcuffs on." "She can clean my gun and I can help her clean the floor." Just astounding.

9) The Overly Dramatic Truth

Call it emo rap if you want, but this song just fucking rules. El rhymes about a girl he can't get rid of, and underneath his "truth" lies hints of a confused, misdirected man who doesn't know what the hell he wants. Reminds me of someone I know.

10) Flyentology

A working example of faith versus physics. Whoo! This Trent Reznor-assisted track is fucking bananas. El has never sounded more comfortable on the mic. His skills here are preternaural*. As an aside, the album's guests never for a moment distract from El's vision. Atheism never sounded so dope.

11) No Kings

Return of the boom-bap. Ugh. Ugh, ugh. "Fake aliens, from lyin' saucers." Dig it!

12) The League of Extraordinary Nobodies

Reminiscent of Fan Dam's 'Stepfather Factory'. After the slow-building first few bars, a guitar hits, is yanked out in place of distorted giggles, and returns as the pace slows, then quickens. Lather, rinse, repeat. On the second, all-too-brief verse, a triumphant horn sings as the show closes. Damn, I really wish this track was longer. My single complaint on a tremendously sublime album.

13) Poisonville Kids No Wins/ Reprise (This Must Be Our Time)

The perfect closer -- the yang to 'Tasmanian Pain Coaster''s yin. I think it's about El abstaining from heroin usage while his friends succumbed to its call. I think. I'll have to check the liner notes; thankfully, for an MC who's esoteric lyrics have always been a challenge (and a pleasure) to decipher, the lyrics are included. Check for the awsomely beautiful keys on the reprise.

Final Word: I know it sounds trite, but even if you don't like hip-hop music, GET this fucking album. 'Nuff said.


* Or is it "inhuman"? Word to K-Hot.

1 comment:

denz said...

TPC has to be one of the best openers of all time.