Monolith Cocktail Blog

MATT OLIVER’S CHOICE ALT HIP-HOP ALBUMS FROM 2024

Blockhead – Mortality is Lit! (Future Archive)

Doctor Zygote – Beats to Use (B/C)

Jon Phonics – Say Less (B/C)

Nappa – Midnight Music (First Word)

Spectacular Diagnostics – If You Feel Like You Lost a Soul (Blah)

2024 saw a string of contrasting instrumental projects putting MPC-pushing fingers to pursed lips. A classic of drum machines and synths becoming sentient and boom bap being capitalised by AI, helmed by Jam Baxter cracking his knuckles on the album’s introduction, ‘Beats to Use’ by Doctor Zygote nods heads by the pendulum of luminous pocket watch. Each drug-named beat is an electro-fied exercise of 8-bit-ish skitters, of hot wiring, implied mania, lab techs knowing too much and late 90s data crunching, daring rhymers to break its gaze. Of similar rear view mirror unease, Nappa’s ‘Midnight Music’ fiends for shadowy, shivering, silver screen set pieces to twitch curtains by. Again, it’s all about what might be lurking around the corner – the setting this time a once grandiose country mansion now dilapidated and ripe for retribution the moment the clock strikes 12 – with added summoning of Aim’s ‘Demonique’,a well-placed Billy Ocean sample, and effective artwork marking the veteran UK producer as a master of the dark arts.

One for headphones to kill outside noise with, Jon Phonics’ prophetic ‘Say Less’ makes a quick-fire dash through the scruff of the streets sound comfortable and leisurely: a trip hoppy set of jazzy, drum-heavy loops and quick edits getting straight down to brass tacks and sparking gritty aromas and emotions. Just as slimline and equally never found fighting the clock, Spectacular Diagnostics (like Phonics, doubling up in 24 with the collaborative ‘Appetites’ LP), administers a series of psychedelic episodes on ‘If You Feel Like You Lost a Soul’, symptoms ranging from light-headedness to jaded paranoia to Return-of-the-DJ flashbacks with Marcus Pinn on the cuts, as the Chicagoan hits the sampler square in the chops. Back in instrumental mode after last year’s Monolith Cocktail-recommended ‘The Aux’ NYC’s Blockhead – another double 2024 releaser (‘Luminous Rubble’) – declares ‘Mortality is Lit!: a roaming 67 minute adventure primed for existentialism, but as much about what brightness lies on the other side of Alice’s looking glass – plus, its pot-pourri of styles and tempos puts audio-visual potential at its nimble fingertips.

Brother Ali & unJUST– Love & Service (Travelers Media LLC)

The quiet commentator watching the world like a hawk with his not-mad-just-disappointed demeanour, Brother Ali continues his customary pinpoint accuracy of observation, as regards to why ‘love is for all’ isn’t a universal truth. Showing a sliver of chagrin on ‘The Collapse’ and going in on ‘Manik’ (“want me to lose consciousness and choose violence I guess”), is the sort of simmering annoyance that made up him sticks from Minneapolis and relocate to Istanbul. Producer unJUST provides rolling funk with global lineage wading through deeply crated mothballs, and collages recalling when foreign sound sources were pie in the sky (appropriately, the album was conceived in a modern, fibre-optic way). Wise yet understatedly caustic through politics and oppression, and with ‘Cadillac’ a classic storyteller made more provocative by Ali’s poker face, nothing gets past ‘Love & Service’. Better yet, Brother Ali has another album readied for 2025.

Common & Pete Rock – The Auditorium Volume 1 (Lorna Vista)

Old skool giants in tandem – no, not Snoop Dogg and Dr Dre – eliciting one of those what if, state-of-the-game propositions before purism started getting shouted down. The wordplay/namechecks of opening track ‘Dreamin’’ put the album in a great position from which it never flags. Rhyming with a soft grin throughout, spirituality that elder statesmanship allows at the front of on ‘We’re On Our Way’ and ‘Wise Up’, Common knows that the soul overlaps and fitting of individual puzzle pieces will always just be, with Pete Rock’s MPC ESP giving the Chocolate Boy Wonder status a holy glow. The effortlessness of everything makes it sound as if ‘The Auditorium’ was constructed all in one go – no throwaway tracks, both in 14-strong quality and length (everything’s a ‘proper’ minimum of 3 minutes 45). The original what-if quickly wonders why ‘The Auditorium’ didn’t happen earlier; let’s hope ‘Volume One’ does actually mean there’s more to come.

Conway the Machine – Slant Face Killah (Drumwork Music Group)

The lasting observations of ‘Slant Face Killah’ are of when the beats react to Conway’s gangster focus that’s gun barrel straight (“I don’t care who we gotta score on, as long we win”), by forcing the needle to wobble out of the groove in a warped vinyl disorientation like your life flashing before your eyes. These pretty irresistible stomps, releasing the wrath, retribution and weight-stacking with rhymes getting by through force of conviction that re-up when comfortable in his lane (you can’t hate lines like “the G.O.A.T. rapper, Mount Rushmore should be resculptured with four of me”), have the effect of Conway as an iced out Pied Piper that you can’t help but fall in with. The more subtle beats don’t do the album justice, but there’s enough raw power and star studded assists (Method Man, Joey Bada$$, Ab-Soul, Swizz Beats, Alchemist) to cause a stampede.

Dead Players – Faster than the Speed of Death (High Focus)

The ultimate in odd couple-buddy cop algorithms, Jam Baxter and Dabbla as Dead Players tell modern folk tales with an intricacy that can be unceremoniously reduced to a one-fingered salute. Which is what makes ‘Faster than The Speed of Death’ such a thrill; it may sound like a James Bond lampoon, but two of the UK’s finest rhymers – sub-Lock Stock, slovenly scholastic meets rat-a-tat rambunction – are about finding the most exacting ways of dumping you on you backside both physically and mentally. Either that, or they’ll simply aim a boot to your groin (“I wouldn’t give me a millimetre of wiggle room if I was you”). Theirs is a telepathy able to simultaneously intertwine threads and go for self (the syllable symmetry of ‘Gasoline Sazerac’), swerving and serving GhostTown’s productions that soundtrack fables landing on your doorstep and ruthless flails through unsettling, voodoo-splashed landscapes (in no small part to its conception in Mexico). Compelling storytelling in geezer patter: ‘Dead Players, all the wins are genuine”.

Desert Camo – Desert Camo (Old Soul)

“This ain’t commercially packaged, I don‘t quote for a quota” – all you need to know about ‘Desert Camo’. Dusty and arid this is not, with Utah’s Heather Grey producing autumnal windows into the mind, loving funk and soul restorations possessing a wind-in-your-hair freedom, leaving itself open to bracing gusts (such as the rippling disquiet of ‘Sun Lord Mixtape’ and ‘Eyes & Ears’) that infiltrates the idyllic scenery. Pulling his Californian collar up, Oliver the 2^nd on the mic counteracts and complements as stoical and softly cynical, never found looking gift horses in the mouth – the rustle and crumble of grounded leaves under a size nine boot, if you will. Quelle Chris and Nolan the Ninja guest on an album that for all its after hours pointers of easing you down, is one to equip yourself with when nothing’s gonna get in your way.

Essa & Pitch 92 – Resonance (First Word)

We’ve heard nowhere near enough of Essa pka Yungun in recent years, one of the UK’s comfiest and most natural on the mic and whose classic ‘The Essance’ received a twentieth anniversary re-up last year. Riding with Pitch 92 (Sparks’ ‘Full Circle’ and Pablo’s Maker’s ‘Paper Planes’ in 2024) on production, Essa’s effortlessness on the mic and verbal spaciousness  – a place for every word, and every word in it’s place – creates a friendly familiarity that a) makes you think you’re being performed for personally, and b) makes the hip-hop album for those that think they don’t like hip-hop. Soulful, grown joints such as ‘Right Now’ and ‘That’s The One’ lead the vibe that ‘Resonance’ has plenty of live band potential, where egos are left at the door, confidence is consummately managed (“an album of the year contender” is all in good taste), and crowdpleasing stories like ‘Sweet’ come correct. ‘Resonance’ = right for heavy rotation.

Gangrene – Heads I Win, Tails You Lose (ALC Records)

Alchemist and Oh No reconvening appears to have slightly slipped under the radar in 24, or rather, oozed from the sewer from which previous albums ‘Gutter Water’, ‘Vodka & Ayahuasca’ and ‘You Disgust Me’ metastasised. As expected it’s worst fears realised with sludgy boom bap, Godfather/Untouchables-isms and B-movie flexes on ‘Dinosaur Jr’ framing the fires of its two titans selling you the seediest of underbellies. Alchemist as ever is at pains to explain psyches in that rushed-yet-strident tone of his, with Oh No’s piloting flying close to off the handle. Not horrorcore per se despite titles such as ‘Oxnard Water Torture’ and ‘The Gates of Hell’, but hitmen who want to make your exit memorable – ‘Watch Out’ has the nerve to flip Slick Rick’s ‘The Show’/Inspector Gadget theme – as they fine-tune the colours of the fever dreams they occupy (even offering a diversion tactic on the peaceful ‘Cloud Surfing’). An album that’s the correct call.

Juga-Naut & Mr Brown – Relative to Craft (We Stay True)

New personal bests in 2024 from Juga-Naut having also released the mustard ‘Bem II’ LP, ’Relative to Craft’ is another blessing of liquid wordplay with personality pushing past hooks, connection of ideas/“dictionary rap”, more riches of pop culture references (as well as making the seemingly mundane pop and sparkle) and that characteristic ostentatiousness and gentlemanly muscle (“display the grace and decorum of a true G”) indicative of a local Nottingham boy done good (“the tastemaker, the gatekeeper, the bricklayer, the mick-taker”) whose successes you can’t begrudge, still seeking due respect from those who haven’t cottoned on yet. Mr Brown’s production on ‘Relative to Craft’ is dapper funk and soul with a faint hint of threat, parping horns and romantic strings, befitting of one of the UK’s best decorated, getting lower and more dimly lit on the pukka ‘Camel Coat’ but otherwise showing that life is good. Simply, bespoke UK hip-hop.

Lupe Fiasco – Samurai (1^st & 15^th)

When Lupe Fiasco is on song he immediately re-enters the thinking of the planet’s best emcees. ‘Samurai’, a loosely conceptual half hour about a battle rapper’s theology (with an interesting inspiration part of its backstory), is Lupe totally at one with the mic as if he has the hip-hop game on a string. Top to bottom production from Soundtrakk is funk and soul for lush and humble lazy days, that perhaps not immediately helpful to bars taking out competition, let Lupe roam free (‘Cake’), theorise clearly, tell stories with a sweet suppleness recalling the joy of ‘Kick Push’ from all those years ago, and pluckily just do his thing. It’s the classic leg sweep of setting you up for attacks you don’t anticipate, but this is never an aggressive album that’s more about the honour than the body count, an immersive experience to pick the bones from on every listen.

Marv Won – I’m Fine Thanks For Asking (Mello Music Group)

The Detroit day-to-day chronicled by Marv Won (“the urban legend, smart enough to know that words are weapons”), determines “life is a movie that has a mask and gloves”. Narrative flair commenting on domestic violence and ‘Roc Nation Brunch’ starting as a jokey namecheck, before encouraging empowerment over a flip of ‘It Was a Good Day’, means the album title’s readymade ambiguity become autobiographical (struggles necessitating a reassuring, everything’s-gonna-work-out interlude), and perhaps a nod to underrated status. Resolutely under no illusion, within the first two tracks he’s hinted at personal vulnerability (not confessional as such, more this-is-me statement of fact) ahead of unloading by any means necessary, though Marv Won’s burdens are quick to rein him back in. Never far from being grounded by his beliefs (though the legitimate reasons of ‘Nosy’ raise a laugh), it’s a rich album (better than fine, in fact) with an occasional rough seam.

Midnight Sons – Money Has No Owners (Chong Wizard)

Zilla Rocca and Chong Wizard advise you to invest in this laidback-and-kicking-it LP with People Under The Stairs fingerprints all over what is a touchstone for true skool beats and rhymes, crowned by an impossibly, perfectly placed Mobb Deep sample on ‘Marathon Man’. While it’s undeniably in the entertainment business (the sunny ‘New Boss’; Rocca eschewing hip-hop’s champagne dreams with quips about his Bandcamp sales), listen-on-listen it’s a tougher, broodier nugget than it lets on. The demeanour throughout remains for top-down travels, but as the Wizard weaves old soul samples for when the temperature starts dipping, a shift in mood, wit and securities, such as on ‘Men Never Take Advice’, is only a scratch of the surface away in the album’s second half. ‘Money…’ comes out bouncing like a bad cheque, but leaves you with more food for thought: should be a perfect showstopper on stage.

Mopes – Deadowbrook (Strange Famous)

Pitching somewhere between Scooby Doo mystery, GhostFace caper and certificate 18 slasher, Mopes dares a bunch of emcees to venture to ‘Deadowbrook’ on an entertaining splatter rap concept. Giving it some heavy metal devil fingers thumbing through a comic book, Mopes’ Halloween soundtrack, with beats mixing fake blood and seas of claret, inspires some great tag-teaming between Strange Famous’ finest investigators, whose knees you can hear knocking together, or who are prepared to dive straight into the belly of the beast (“kill or be killed…it’s a stake through the heart and crucifix in the fist”). The album’s essence is this mix of performance: matter-of-fact, everyday weirdness stands beside delusions, conspiracies and paranoia. Buck 65, BlackLiq (totally reading the script on ‘Sneakerbox’) and Sage Francis lead the out-of-towners with pitchforks and flashlights, but everyone’s who’s summoned plays their part in mythologising the ‘Deadowbrook’ legend.

Moses Rockwell & Plain Old Mike – Regular Henry Sessions (HipNott)

Plain Old Mike is on the beats, Moses Rockwell is on the mic, and the ‘Regular Henry Sessions’ are an inventory of good old-fashioned hip-hop basics and quality control. Their ease of approachability is full of 60s/psych/funk samples, Homeboy Sandman/Open Mike Eagle-style deliveries, self-deprecation (“betting on my last good braincell…I hope that our tape sells”), car-chase cool (‘Duck Sauce’), and the feel is that their mission statement is to rock up wherever, and knock it out the park with a mix of no pretention and almost downplayed craft. ‘Regular Henry…’ sneaks its way out of the New York underground so as to get you checking their passport and contending claims that they “live on a prayer and sleep on a knife’s edge”, but you can’t front on this dynamic duo genuinely enjoying one another’s creativity.

Pastense – Sidewalk Chalk, Parade Day Rain (Uncommon Records)

A model representation of scything hip-hop from a lapsed future, made loud from blacklisted drum machines, sleazy synths where rats have gnawed through the wiring, and producer Uncommon Nasa backsliding to 90s indie ideals. The unflinchingly gruff pessimist Pastense walks through the rubble he may or may not have created, voice raw from trying to make himself heard in the backfire of civilization falling, the star of a disaster movie where’ll there be no redemptive sequel (“today was better than yesterday, but still I’m fearful” likely a big hit in tattoo parlours across the world). Though ‘Broken Statues’ sneaks in some funkiness, ‘Journey Back to Reality’ wholly reflects Pastense’s mindstate of “aint no future in your frontin’”, rarely coming up for air as his list of grievances dips over a horizon of corrupted neon. An unwieldy, angle-grinding behemoth to submit to.

Revival Season – Golden Age of Self Snitching (Heavenly Recordings)

Blasting out of Atlanta – “the way I be coming in like the intro music from Jaws” – and with an eclectic mindstate bringing GA brethren OutKast to mind (there’re bits of Death Grips and clipping in there too, while sharing label space with Kneecap makes sense at the home of Doves and Baxter Drury), Reveal Season begins as a thoroughly bracing experience. Jonah Swilley’s production encourages sharp intakes of breaths amidst shards of 4×4 punk rock beats, ramped up funk and reverb, and Brandon Evans’ livewire rhymes look for a crowd to dive into bare-chested while wearing out the stage  (“I’m going in cos I don’t know no different”). ‘Boomerang’ and the gangster ‘Chop’ herald the album’s second half doing more ‘hip-hop’ jams, getting their Beastie Boys in the basement with bass pedals on. First time listening, you never know where it’s headed, but every subsequent listen is still a joyride.

Vincent, The Owl & Nick Catchdubs – 100 Proof (Fool’s Gold)

Only eight tracks and 22 minutes long, as per their previous collaborative parameters, but featuring some of the year’s most straight-up neck snaps and brags bringing home the bacon, ‘100 Proof’ is the ultimate shoulder-high ghettoblaster parade for soon-to-be-shook subway patrons. Meyhem Lauren, Chris Crack and Fatboi Sharif are along for the ride as Jersey City’s Vincent, The Owl – loudmouth, but only so everyone can hear – goes all in with flying show-n-prove colours and nostrils flaring like a prize bull, threatening to go haywire on ‘Bruv My Luv’ and ‘Venti Valente’, complete with a call-n-response hook that’s daft enough to sound completely in context but also old skool-appreciative. Catchdubs catches fire with the knowledge of what’s unpolished and to-the-point, pushing kicks and breaks through brick walls for front rows to bang their heads in unison. The set up is throwback, and the reward is a knackered rewind button.

Vitamin G & Mr Slipz – Prophet of Doom (High Focus)

Potent UK umbrage taken by Mr Slipz’ spectrally-dipped beats that knock all the way through with Oriental-themed, way of the warrior lineage (a default setting maybe, but one that a lot of producers get wrong), and Vitamin G’s brim low, fuck around and find out-rhymes that achieve Zen in dismissing all comers (peaking on ‘From The Drop’). The undeviating consistency reflects the pair’s dedication to working to a hard, pre-ordained, after dark gameplan, with a glance of neo-soul (another default that can go either way) not found lagging thanks to Vitamin’s potency, and naturally providing a more introspective route (‘Vulnerable Youngens’) for the album to follow and a different shade of darkness to chase. Both walk through the valley of the shadow of death and come out smelling of roses, with ‘The Internet’ featuring Jehst and Farma G as succinct an address of modern living as you could wish for.

Wish Master & Kong the Artisan – His Story (Noel & Poland)

Cappo collaborator Kong the Artisan came up trumps in 2024 with J Littles on the ‘Massa’ LP and with Guilty Simpson (who features here) for ‘Giants of the Fall’. The very deliberate stylings of Bristol’s Wish Master leave a big mark on KTA’s slick, slinky, sticky backdrops that can prick the atmosphere and plunge everything into darkness at the drop of a hat. WM follows suit, the sort of boss mode flow allowing itself time to think, that’s so sure of itself and can fill a room with the view that nothing has to be complicated. ‘His Story’ can be broken down into two acts: the retrospective, opening title track is a curveball, as when followed by ‘Masterpiece’ with the ever abrasive Datkid, everything becomes smoked out and tinted, Further along the line, Wish Master values taking a reflective moment, as if to not take his crown-wearing privilege for granted. Shout to Delia Smith on ‘Let’s Have It’ as well.

Your Old Droog – Movie (Rem-U-Lak Records)

“I’m spitting life sentences, you a slap on the wrist”: either Your Old Droog has been a master of keeping fans on tenterhooks down the years with his series of mini-albums, or a fully-realised 17-track piece (complete with easy-to-ignore skits), is worthy for its shock value. Unlike the critically acclaimed TV series that then flops at the box office, everything’s here from scene one – the punchlines and putdowns (the wince-inducing ‘What Else?’), the adlibs, the namechecks, the cockiness, the cold-veined stories (‘Roll Out’), and the seamless transition towards more compassionate material (‘I Think I Love Her’, ‘Grandmother’s Lessons’, the clever angle of ‘How Do You Do It?’) completing/confirming his performance circle. Owning the funk and mobster movements lead by Harry Fraud and Madlib on production, “Bob Dylan without the harmonica…y’all ain’t nothing but mall cops or hall monitors” is a silver screen superstar.

Honorable mentions; Cappo – Starve; LIFE Long & Noam Chopski – In The Day of the Night; Mark Ski – Recless; MegaRan & Jermiside – The Lure Of Light; Muja & Dub Sonata – Break the Stereo; OldBoy Rhymes – The Sane Asylum; Philmore Greene – The Grand Design; Seez Mics – With SFR; Sly Moon – No Gamble No Future; and Vega7 the Ronin – Kawasaki Killers.