Album Review: Andrew C. Kidd



Escupemetralla ‘Fe, Esperanza Y Caridad’
(Nøvak) 1st December 2018


Escupemetralla were first brought to my attention by the editor of this digital revue who received a blank CD in the post accompanied by an enigmatic message stating that it will “send Apple computers to sleep”. Fe, Esperanza Y Caridad (Faith, Hope and Charity) is revealed as the title of the album once the play button is pressed.

The words ‘faith, hope and charity’ have biblical origins; they appear in the First Epistle to the Corinthians. The cover photograph, a religious triptych containing symbols that represent the supernatural virtues of Christianity, provides further evidence to support this conjecture. The musical duo from Barcelona even remark on “Mary having given birth to Jesus parthenogenetically”* and propose that “Christ was a female”. Yet their allusion to Erich von Däniken, the author of Chariots of the Gods?, on Petroglifo descubierto en un cálculo renal extends far beyond the theological; it is positively ontological!

According to the album notes, Fe, Esperanza Y Caridad is “to be composed, recorded and mixed by Muhammad and Muhammad” in 2025. Escupemetralla clarify this statement by describing themselves as “virtual entities that will actually exist in several years’ time”. These truly eternalistic assertions are perhaps most palpable in the second half of the album as the listener evaporates into The Orb-level realms of deep space exploration. L.A.I.K.A. features a barking dog (presumably an homage to the Soviet canine that was the first animal to orbit the Earth) as well as intermittent radio contact with cosmonaut Vladimir Komarov just prior to his Soyuz 1 module crash in the 1960s. See-sawing low rumbles and analogue noises swirl around Pop industrial artificial del Tecno Núcleo and repetitive cut-effect sequences hammer away on Gas de Nasqueron (eagle-eyed readers will recognise Nasqueron from the novel The Algebraist by Iain Banks). The murky ambient undertones, pings of active sonar, muffled lub-dubs of a beating heart, echoey radio static and near-euphoria of the synths on Albedo 7 give the impression that it is a transmission that has only been partially received.

In terms of the music, inky black marks from the industrial music sub-genre stamp appear all over the album. A 4-4, snare-heavy breakbeat rhythm drops part way through Pastelería industrial and heavily programmed bops and squelches are interrupted by demonic cockerel sound effects. Cmmrcl mss is a sonic headbutt that seeks to emulate the glass smashing and metal banging percussive high jinks of Einstürzende Neubauten and the pop track rulebook rewriting of The Commercial album by The Residents (Ralph Records, 1980). There are also a couple of recognisable samples thrown in for good measure; sporadic lines from Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s Relax can be heard on ¿Raspas mi orpón en Urano? and the metamorphosed bass-line on Paso de insecto has been borrowed from Blitzkrieg Bop by the Ramones.

Synthetic sounds are king on Fe, Esperanza Y Caridad. The driving bass sequence on Holy conception is the constant in an equation of samples that circle around metallic-sounding beeps, blips and boings. The track is anything but formulaic; Escupemetralla’s inspiration came from listening to a twenty five-minute version of Grateful Dead’s masterpiece of improvisation, Dark Star (Warner Bros, 1968). Petroglifo descubierto en un cálculo renal is Morton Subotnick reincarnate. Sporadic pan-range synth sequences float around innumerable drone sounds. The sub-bass module comes at you like a breath underwater and the lowest notes lie deeper than a depth gauge in Atlantis. Strained strings become a unified harmony at the midpoint as alarm bells ring away frantically in the background. Escupemetralla also happily experiment with their track tempos. The accelerando on Paso de Insecto pushes the polyrhythmic synths and distorted voice codec into a chaotic finale and the calando on Petroglifo descubierto en un cálculo renal opposes the low frequency oscillators that slowly phase towards a peak.

From the theological to the xenological, Fe, Esperanza Y Caridad is a ‘musical polysemy’ that draws on many influences. To draw any inferences on the deeper meaning contained within its references would be an attempt to prove ignotum per ignotius. One thing I am certain of is that I look forward to hearing it again when it is eventually recorded in the year 2025.

*parthenogenesis: from the Greek parthenos (virgin) and genesis (origin)

von Däniken sought to explore possible extraterrestrial influences on early human civilisation





Words: Andrew C. Kidd

MATT OLIVER’S ESSENTIAL MONTHLY HIP-HOP REVIEW

 

A happy new year to all freshly affiliated and dyed-in-the-wool Rapture & Verse rapscallions, climbing off its seasonal sickbed by thinking Eminem’s ‘Revival’ would be the antidote (it isn’t, by an unimaginable distance), and surprised that in the era of health and safety, you can still buy a GZA ‘Liquid Swords’ reissue complete with mini toy weaponry. Hopefully last month’s comprehensive Monolith Cocktail round-ups have put you in the picture as to 2017’s ins and outs; while we catch up with December’s overspill, there’s always Skillz and Uncle Murda squabbling for your retrospective vote.






Singles/EPs

After worming his way into the inner circle of Madlib and DOOM, electronic/house superpower Four Tet doesn’t fluff his audition remixing ‘Madvillainy’, a satisfyingly clean alternative bringing its own worldly daredevilry to the original’s boggy waddling. ‘No Excuses’ asserts Big Cakes, and the seven, Queen’s English-get-the-money tracks don’t pull their punches, making a convincing argument to go for second helpings. More international assassination from Endemic Emerald sends his latest platoon into battle, with Scorzayzee and Tragedy among the stripes-earners, while his string sections get the streets surrounded, the granite-and-gasoline ‘Black Bag Operation’ taking the opportunity to dump rubbish.





Liquid refreshment from Moka Only & E.d.g.e. comes ‘Lucid’ to a fluorescent twittering of too cool-for-clubs synths. Noteworthy for the useful mantra that “rap always overgrown, the grass need a mow y’know, too abstract to be quotable”. The trife life sticks close to Muja Messiah, taking on Roc Marciano’s sweat-trickling gangster leisure time; ‘Saran Rap’ is a half dozen street codes with eyes wide open that would relax if the stakes weren’t so high. Illogic re-enters his astral plane to tell everyone about ‘The Beauty in Evolution’, fastening his seatbelt and hanging out the window with a mix of dubby, jazzy instrumentals and rhymes trying to keep a lid on sounding awed.

Straightforward instructional from Slim Thug throws itself into the front row as he sorts ‘Kingz & Bosses’ with Big KRIT, pleasingly muted in measuring for crowns and emperor’s robes. The sledgehammer sound of BigBob pulverising a piano allows Sadat X and Big Twins to carefully take aim and open fire on the enjoyably unequivocal

roach-stomper ‘The Truth’. When the streets are watching, it’s ‘All Eyes On Us’, with Jamo Gang – Ras Kass, El Gant and J57 – bristling at the wheel of a related, get down or lay down steamrollering.




Albums

Completing his Michigan trilogy, Dabrye’s ‘Three/Three’ invites over a glut of underground hip-hop firebrands, but taps a sign that reads ‘respect our neighbours’ every time one takes to the booth. A stylish, steady holding it down, passing pure hip-hop, neo-soul and electronic routings rarely trespassing into the reds, with DOOM, Guilty Simpson, Ghostface, Danny Brown, Nolan the Ninja and Jonwayne standing for a fine album that doesn’t shout so from the rooftops.





High Focus maximise their strength by mix-and-matching two of their topmost chefs souring their latest specials board. Never a duo for soft centres, Jam Baxter and Ed Scissor spray disarray to decorate ‘Laminated Cakes’, their gateaux filled with mercurial gall and grit, and with Ghosttown providing the tough base and sprinkle of hallucinogens that aren’t exactly melt in the mouth. As they make you head nod like there’s a guillotine blade eying up your scone, Pierce Artists are the ‘Kings Returning’ to a hard-backed throne. Unlike the nation’s cricketers, Elliot Fresh and Deeq determinedly dig in, don’t waft at anything airy-fairy and never take their eye off the ball, to Rack Mode keeping perfect line and length on the beats. Part superhero, part vicious dental plan, ‘Teeth Ledger’ has Datkid and Bailey Brown flexing the sort of infectiously perturbing superiority that comes easy. Hood rat rhymes do obnoxious as matter of fact, and beats shrug in the face of catastrophe while waiting for the night bus: both have got a garrison of goods to set wintry nights ablaze, anchored by the supreme head-trolling ‘Whos Dat’. Another slow release slug to your chest from Bisk, with Sam Zircon assisting the leech-like tactics, makes it rain with ‘Saucemoney’ – perfect for when the sun refuses to come up.

Oh No cherrypicking from cool Cali stronghold Now Again is a funk/soul think tank that sounds played by ear, and whose good-paced trolley dash of sounds masks meticulous programming. Keeping a queue of mic antagonists waiting while mentally composing a posse cut’s posse cut, the dustiness of ‘Oh No vs Now Again 3’ is dredged in gold and will reactivate your head. Cutting through early year frostiness is Pete Rock and his ‘Lost Sessions’ finding sunshine on the horizon. Of casual instrumental majesty, the MPC finds the balcony view to its liking once given plenty of breathing space. No need to pass the aux here. The first hip-hop signing by The White Stripes’ Jack White is inauspiciously named New York emcee SHIRT – sartorially scruffy (and a search engine’s nightmare), but with enough raw, nomadic swagger to have you recognising the ‘Pure Beauty’ within.





David Begun continues to meddle in the affairs of Nas and Madlib, ‘Nasimoto: The Even Further Adventures’ playing God with the Gods and bootlegging to a boss standard. Fresh perspectives that push all the right, corresponding buttons. The crux of Masta Ace’s ‘Son of Yvonne’ gets renovated by a host of European producers that do both proud to earn their place in the album’s family portrait. Funky on the low but full of that all important snap that makes Ace tick, the tight-knit promise to never from the beaten track claims a companion to complement and rival the original.

Playing street games and getting results, Religion’s ‘The Demo Reel’ rigs up cop themes crossing the wrong side of town until reality starts to distort. Mists paint the scene from the ground up and freaks come out at night for loops and kicks that will work your neck blue, allowed a seldom spring in its step. For those still walking around in a post-Christmas fug, ‘The Top Left: Skeleton Staff’ from Mistah Bohze will shake you by the collar and out of your resolution-dodging malaise. Bulky from first to last until you’re swamped, and including a crafty reinvention of ‘Kernkraft 400’, the Glasgow emcee ploughs through on his own can’t stop-won’t stop manifesto.





“This is not trap, we don’t mumble neither: closed mouths don’t get fed”. Redbaren 907 and Deep of 2 Hungry Boys are ‘Unbreakable’, and you soon believe them: a won’t flop beats and rhymes unit (‘Barz Flows and Delivery’ hammering the point home), dishing out a one-two you can reliably gain muscle to. With the globe circling the drain, KXNG Crooked presents blow by blow coverage from the disaster zone with a flow to make you put your foot through the TV. ‘Good vs Evil 2: The Red Empire’ is iron-fisted intensity not sugar-coating narratives (despite some carnal urges) for anyone; despite the bleak pictures he paints, you trust the KXNG, whose force relegates beats to a footnote, to repair the job in hand.



Mixtapes

Everything worth hearing from Jeru the Damaja – a higher 90s heyday than most – gets its laundry aired on the ‘Dirty Rotten Mixtape’, Chrome and Donnie Propa in charge of putting together the best wrathful mathematics going. On the surprisingly lightweight ‘Emperor Nehru’s New Groove’, giving brains not too much to worry about, Bishop Nehru is on cruise control when flaunting shiny wares for the club and lounge: smooth operations hanging at the shallow end. Bruse Wane declaring ‘The Batman Should’ve Been On It’ transitions between classic beat loans and original album prep, swooping like charity gala attendee by day before night shift vengeance takes over. The bat signal is fairly strong with this one.





No videos this month. Go catch up with a boxset instead.

You can check out all Matt’s past roundups here

And all his reviews/roundups/selections from 2017 here

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