Blue Sky Black Death & Hell Razah
Razah’s Ladder
BabyGrande
{grate 3.5}
Wu-Tang certainly stems its fair share of dead branches. The
legions of cling-ons that adopt the Clan’s dramatic self-worship and scriptural
philosophy are inclined to believe that rehashing Wu lyrics over a
soul-crutched beat is enough to be worthy of the brand; what they can’t help
but lack, of course, is the leading-edge aura of legends.
Instead of stepping in minion-line behind the aging eight,
West Coast bedroom-producers Blue Sky Black Death depart on a less literal
tribute. Kingston and Young God pull what they like from RZA beat signatures
(like looped orchestral spikes and deep, battering drums), then use this
blueprint to develop a signature of their own, built on the full-bodied
ambiance of debut double-disc A Heap of Broken Images and last year’s
collaboration with the deranged and scattered Holocaust. BSBD heap the blank
canvas of Razah’s Ladder in a lasagna-load of layers — soaked keyboards,
electric riffs, horn coils, smooth beat-machine bass — and stuff the cracks
with enough folk-instrument samples, vocal mini-clips and media snippets to
overflow a landfill.
Leaning his street-weary bones on the pair’s youthful energy
is a somewhat lackluster — if self-convinced — Hell Razah, so busy flipping
through the analogous elements of his biblically inspired ladder-elevation that
he often forgets to hold on tight. The album’s 14-track spiritual journey is
book-ended by definitive reinforcement from Razah: “The science we dealing with
is elevation — which can be compared in a parable to a ladder,” he spells out
in opener “Elevation,” and finishes the album with a recital of excerpts about
Jacob’s ladder and Heaven’s opening, complete with bibliography.
But as much as he may linger on this tired Wu-affiliate
schtick, Razah’s not a half-bad minister — and better, when he manages to
forget his sophomore solo’s far-reaching concept, there are some precious
traces of the beast that once tore through Sunz of Man projects and Wu-Tang
guest spots, back in the late ’90s. “Pray Together” comes hard, as Razah picks up
the pace and BSBD uncharacteristically pace themselves, holding out through
lounge piano, acapella harmony and baying mountain-song before they drop the
blues-rich beat in full force. The production duo’s spiritual subtext caters to
the client — as did the nightmarish thunderclouds they threw Holocaust — and,
at the same time, finds time to indulge a genre-rounding fetish for combining
every last noise our technology-enhanced universe has to offer.
— Simone Wilson
Hiatus editor
Enter Shikari
Take to the Skies and Run
Tiny Evils
{grate 2.5}
What happens when you throw a few tortured emo boys into a
seizure-inducing rave arena, then give them something to really kick and scream
about? British sensation Enter Shikari’s hybrid of throbbing techno synths and
soaring indie harmonies — punctuated by DragonForce growls — is an imbroglio of
industrial riffs and noisy dissonance that probably shouldn’t work, but is
persistent enough to be persuasive.
So persuasive, in fact, that they’ve cultivated an
impressive following among hair-in-the-eyes, glowstick-waving MySpacers,
despite adamantly rejecting numerous major record label propositions. One of
only two unsigned bands to ever sell out the London Astoria, Shikari’s
self-released Take to the Skies and Run is a refreshing diversion from most
atonal thrash, a torrential metal outcry laced with Lost Prophet-inspired
melodies. “Mothership,” the band’s first single, buds from an otherworldly
trance-scape and explodes into an angst-ridden anthem backed by deft, hardcore
hammering.
Sometimes, though, this hammering seems misplaced — as in
“Sorry You’re Not a Winner,” which unconvincingly vacillates between
electronica strobes and sporadic metal barking. The punky “No Sssweat” and
electrifying “Return to Energizer” are more successful, the familiar adolescent
act taking unexpected turns with swelling echoes of the keyboard. And while
their efforts do deserve some credit, the headbanging warbles can grow a little
tired without visual aid from the live, microphone-humping freakouts that
originally won them worship.
Enter Shikari’s twisted techno mashup falters in some places
and exhausts in most, but their exuberant crack at genre-hopping is worth a
second gander — if only to find out what screaming sounds like in a British
accent.
— Sonia Minden
Senior Staff Writer
Dirtnap Mixtape
grate 3.5}
Avaried dessert platter to follow the heavier, more wholly
conceived Razah’s Ladder, BSBD’s Dirtnap mixtape — available as an album bonus
on a handful of hip-hop sites — opens 14 more slots on which the boys can mess
around. The comp breezes through no-pressure instrumentals and homeless gems
from cut-short collaborations with Clan offshoots like the 5-percent-crazed Jus
Allah, a top-of-his-game Killah Priest and awesomely slurry Midaz (whose Muggs
Vs. Midaz stealthily showed up GZA’s sleepy original in 2006). But most
importantly, the supplement frees Hell Razah and his Ladder costars from the
album’s overwrought theme; the Paz-inspiring Ill Bill brings a notably slicker
game to the almost Jedi-Mind drama of “Darkness Deepens,” and Crooked L punches
harder when up against the wily Ras Kass. Razah nixed first track “Holy Grail”
because it stuck out too awkwardly from under the blanket, when it easily could
have been one of the official album’s relievingly random standouts.
— Simone Wilson
Hiatus editor
