Aesop Rock

Bazooka Tooth

(Definitive Jux)

Bazooka Tooth, the star of Aesop Rock’s fifth album, embodies modern humanity’s dark side with mechanical precision. He’s a cyborg with “diamond-cutter spine” and “armadillo armor that bends around the blades,” an arrogant pimp who rocks Timbs and spits “low-life game.”

Aesop has been known to approach a topic so obliquely that he seems to rap nonsense. What does he mean when he says, “Embargo piggy-backers navigate SimCity backwards”? Probably nothing, but it sounds dope. Bazooka Tooth contains more nonsense than ever, but at the same time it’s lyrics highlight one of Ace’s longtime preoccupations—the relationship between man and his machines. The subject is embodied in the title, which juxtaposes animal and metal, and in the music itself.

Ace’s production—digital and gritty in contrast to the warm sample-driven beats of long-time collaborator Blockhead—enact the simultaneous symbiosis and struggle between Western culture and technology. Though all hip-hop does this in a sense, Ace brings the topic into relief. The title track is a distorted dirge complimented by the arrhythmic plucking of an acoustic guitar. Before long the beat skips and stalls, as if some digital demon in the stereo were trying fervently to spin the disc the other direction. Later, over a beat that features an incessantly ringing cell phone, Ace warns, “Don’t get cooked by the pilot light / I can smell metal in the air tonight.”

Maybe it won’t surprise anyone that Aesop Rock has crafted another album long on artistry and skill. What is truly impressive is that Bazooka’s fanged edges still manage to make your head nod, even as your brain throbs. —Michael S. Hoffman

Drums and Tuba

Mostly Ape

(Righteous Babe)

Don’t be fooled by their name—Drums and Tuba feature minimal drums, even less tuba and little in the way of musical innovation. Mostly Ape mostly keeps to the same song structure, alternating stretches of pared funk basslines with indulgent, Zeppelinesque electric guitar solos.

It’s in these moments of improvisation that the band’s potential for creativity emerges. Guitarist Neal McKeeby’s sparer moments—utilizing echoes and often random syncopation—add mystery to otherwise formulaic songs, and his penchant for experimentation shines on the jazzier “Clashing” and in “Goose Geese.” In the latter, his strumming actually resembles electric cello.

Still, Drums and Tuba never break away from the funk/jam mold, precisely because they underuse their titular instruments. Tony Nozero’s fluid beats are more of an undercurrent than a driving rhythmic force, too often overshadowed by McKeeby’s love affair with sliding on the electric guitar. Those excited to hear the tuba will be disappointed, as Brian Wolff’s instrument mostly fades into the background as a barely audible walking bass. In Wolff’s few moments in the spotlight, his lower register booms while higher notes often slide out of tune with flubbed attacks—though this may be intended as jazz technique, the result is too often the sound of a beginner on the instrument.

In their brightest moments, Drums and Tuba’s underproduced sound and musical incongruities are refreshing amidst today’s overproduced music. But the album never rises beyond a live jam session, its repetition and lack of balance making it just like the demo from the rocker boys next door. —Rebecca M. Milzoff

Various Artists