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Rating:
Never would I have expected to perceive such congenial, thus intelligible (to the mold-breaking) sensations from a substantially [proclaimed] "New Rap" record: it is truly correct, therefore, that one never really stops learning: this in an exponential way when one is such a deep well of ignorance as the present sheet-metal warper from mid-town.
In honor of the Latin-like (in vino) Veritas and for Agamemnonian* correctness, it cannot be entirely asserted that the disordered postulate created by the cataclysmic Keiji-MC and the octopus-like DJ-Tatsuya strictly adheres to the holy criteria of the aforementioned de-genre: one will agree with me (with me: for those less accustomed to pre-Italian terms) that a guitar disastrously shattered and drums sadistically and scientifically pounded, in the common understanding of Rap, surely do not represent the fitting ingredients for the purpose, but there it is: after all (as warned in the related title), it is New (Rap): if they used the known/usual expressive modules, there would have been no reason to define it with such an innovative suffix (or not?).
Therefore, the supposed progressive-hip hop brick in question manifests to the painfully but amused and amusing practical side as a sardonic, wicked, ferocious, dismantling assault on the (semi-heart attacked) coronaries as well as on the bewildered auditory system: the unrestrained, gasping, shattered, oppressive, volcanic guitaring of good Sir Keiji is dynamically mixed/superimposed/implemented with the rhythmic percussive racket/hullabaloo orchestrated by the elephantine Yoshida: every square millimeter of extroverted sound wallpaper is vortexly sucked in, probed, stunned, estrogenated, stuffed ad libitum with frothy, sparkling, instrumental and vocal clamor of every race and species (exemplary in this sense the delirious "Lower East Side"); furthermore, and among the other rap-resented follies, we include the completely absurd, damnatio ad bestias-vocals "chirping", contained in the inhuman "West Broadway", of our long-haired and "charming" guitar hero.
Moderately complex structure (especially if one stubbornly perseveres in handling it as a hypothetical rap-work..), shattered, fragmented, sound-iconoclastic, prickly and notably distressing to the overall and integral eavesdropping this episode NU-Rap Tzadikian: after all, who do you expect could reside behind such a phenomenological musical-preposterousness?
YO Man!
* and I am not referring, you cordial lunatics who have generously followed me this far, to the Homeric Agamemnon (too easy: tsk), but to that known gentleman, Mr. Giovanni Agamennone, (Rieti 1858, Rome 1949), seismologist, who was the Director of the Royal Geodynamic Observatory in Rocca di Papa (Rome): a person of unparalleled exquisiteness and correctness [at least I hope].
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