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Guaranteed to raise the hackles of rap purists, Ten, the debut album proper from Cincinnati-based surrealist rhyme trio Clouddead is an imaginative, hilarious and often bewildering vision of hip-hop viewed through a distorted lens. In comparison to their previous full-length, 2001's Cloudd
Guaranteed to raise the hackles of rap purists, Ten, the debut album proper from Cincinnati-based surrealist rhyme trio Clouddead is an imaginative, hilarious and often bewildering vision of hip-hop viewed through a distorted lens. In comparison to their previous full-length, 2001's Clouddead--a collection of 10" singles moulded into an occasionally revelatory but frequently uneven whole--this is a pretty complete-sounding work. Rhyme-wise, it's dominated by Dose One who delivers hypnotic poetic tracts and feats of cyclical word-play in nasal, hypnotic sing-song. But it's the sounds that dominate--kaleidoscopic shifts of hallucinatory sound that hint at a love for My Bloody Valentine, experimental techno, and DJ Shadow-style crate-plundering in equal measure. Accordingly, there are no block-party bangers here: the melancholy "Dead Dogs Two" is a lyrical vision of mortality viewed from a cold asphalt highway ("We secretly long to be part of a car crash/ Long to see our arm stripped to the tendon"), while the buoyant "Physics of a Unicycle" conceals a poetic ode to aeronautical pioneers the Wright brothers amid its stuttering drum-machine sputters. The majority of experimental hip-hop releases stumble through their sheer inconsistency. Ten is the rare exception. --Louis Pattison (Review copyright Amazon.co.uk)
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