My previous moan about MCs segues nicely into my further irritation over the “deep dubstep” cliches and fetishisation of spliff aesthetics and general Rasta nonsense (“Jah Man Rastafari!” and any variant thereof). It’s a worn out sonic trope as played out as a Camden Market Bob Marley t-shirt (and yes, one that I myself, unfortunately, dabbled with liberally in the past). So what is the continuing appeal of allegiance to the the Rasta tricolore and so-called “roots”? Discuss in less than 3,000 words using academic referencing, but certainly not here….
Needless to say the cover provokes a deep groan, but this new producer from Denver squeezes more sub out of his bass than I’ve heard in a long time. On proper headphones (not iPhone buds) this batters the eardrums, so I can only imagine what this sounds like over a fat rig. Probably floor quaking and lank heavy? This second cut off the EP is finely sculpted stuff too; all staggering, lurching groove, ambient texture, indeterminate skittish wooden/metallic percussion and pitching, tape echoed soundbwoy (yes…) babbling. Worthy of the track title for sure.