- Hip-hop's underground has always shadowed its mainstream, in a way. Whenever the genre's focus shifted, independent rappers were there to fill in the gaps and go where others wouldn't. Aesop Rock emerged from New York in the late '90s, his style a reaction to hip-hop's increasingly simplified lyrics heading into the bling era. Twenty years on and as trap's enduring popularity continues to incite 'lyricism is dead' complaints from purists, perhaps this scene is more relevant now than ever before.
To call Aesop verbose would be an understatement, the man writes verses like he's playing competitive scrabble. While this excessive vocabulary means you're rarely bored as a listener, it can compromise impact by needlessly obscuring the overall message. Thankfully this has been toned down in recent years: 2016's The Impossible Kid saw Aesop at his most direct and personal.
Malibu Ken further fuses fact and fiction, offering intimate details of daily life next to absurdly reimagined references. Perfecting this approach is lead single Acid King, a truly odd cut in which Aesop poetically retells an obscure murder story from his hometown. He relentlessly details the scene, including specifics on everything from the killer's criminal record to the number of stab wounds on the victim's body. As a listener it's utterly gripping and a near-flawless example of complex storytelling within hip-hop.
Now I haven't mentioned the collaborative aspect of this record, and that's for a reason. Aesop Rock has formed a duo with neo-psych producer Tobacco, and while it's his beats which define Malibu Ken, they're not without shortcomings. Tobacco is synthesiser obsessed, something which comes through in every single track. Most consist of analogue melodic drones backed by punchy drum loops with liberally applied vocal effects around the chorus. When this goes well it's Aesop who benefits most. Alien sounds embellish his narration on Acid King while Corn Maze is flecked with twinkling synthesiser melodies. These moments are great, but Tobacco's lack of sonic diversity means they simply overshadow some of the less memorable tracks. Everything kind of blurs together, even weeks after first hearing the album.
I feel harsh calling Malibu Ken one-dimensional considering Aesop's subject matter is anything but. There's just something about his samey vocal cadence over this style of minimal production which really undermines its impact. Then there's the vocal filters which stick out for all the wrong reasons, coming close to ruining tracks like Tuesday and Purple Moss.
It's a damn shame as the latter of those manages to feel intimate and emotional until its atmosphere is disrupted by robotic crooning. Tobacco has his own style and that's great, but the way he fit in here just didn't work for me. I really must emphasise how talented of an MC Aesop is though, my problem is with his tone rather than the rapping itself. Dog Years features a terrifyingly fast string of bars while Corn Maze's choppy flow works perfectly as an opening piece.
Ignore my gripes, this is a collaboration you just can't ignore. His overall style might have grown a bit stagnant, but Aesop's progression as a rapper is unbelievable. I wouldn't say there's even any bad songs here as Aes still manages to rap rings around most of his contemporaries. Some cuts just stick out less than others, and the production doesn't do them any favours. Tally it all up and I still couldn't ask for a better start to 2019 as a fan of this scene, and it's always fascinating to see artists continue to progress this far into their careers.
- Boddhi Farmer.