| Compared to every other territory grabbed by the hands of European imperialism, Australia definitely got stiffed in the category of Inspiring First Settlement. Most of the British Empire's new properties got greedy-ass business types for their owners (ruthless, but good dressers), and we at least got anal-retentive but relatively efficient religious fanatics to annihilate our indigenous population, but Australia got stuck with prison inmates. The local Aborigines probably heard two words, figuratively speaking, before dying of small pox: "bend over." And, in spite of the existence of PhDs and Northwest University to debate this sort of thing in detail, it's pretty much been the same ever since. Part of the raison d'etre for Curse ov Dialect and their sprawling, often desperate debut is to shove off the smothering legacy of racism in all its forms from the personal and political lives of the group's multi-ethnic but clearly Aboriginal core. Raceless, one of Dialect's four main emcees, gets specific in "Shamans," referencing the warnings of tribal prophets in pre-Melbourne times and rapping intelligently about "sacred land destroyed by sin" - or, in other words, sacred land destroyed by settlers' sheep-farming methods. Vulk Makedonski, easily the disc's star rapper, spouts off deliriously in "Curse ov the Vulk Makedonski" about James Cook and his "bandits," with jaw-dropping intensity and the mouth-moving speed of a fast-forwarded VCR soliloquy. Of course, specific mythology and symbolism are only ever pieces of a larger multi-ethnic puzzle, and Curse ov Dialect carefully avoid locking themselves into one cultural paradigm. Their general rallying cry: "All cultures, all together," as expressed in "All Cultures" - drives the album's conceptual structure, brings the considerable talent of its creators under one banner and provides readymade topical slots for most of its tracks. "Vertical Ascension" and "Lost in the Real Sky" express hope for a multi-cultural future; "Upside Down Frowns," "If I Die," and "Water Thicker Than Blood" enumerate psychological scars from the past, and "Wolf Moon" and "Multicultural Markets" show confusion about the present. The rest falls somewhere between these three poles. This might sound heady, idealistic or clichéd on paper, and some tracks ("Wolf Moon" in particular) veer toward preachiness or an enlightened form of motto-worshipping, but Curse ov Dialect's diverse, technically mind-blowing production and the sheer passion of their emceeing easily smooth over any conceptual ruffles. Take "Family Assorted," for instance - a clan free-for-all that runs past nine minutes, includes the potent rhymes of at least four guests, and segues from ethnic beat-jam to a razor-sharp satire of cultural imperialism, complete with Elizabethan pan-pipe loops, to a trippy, scratch-happy instrumental meditation. "Upside Down Frowns" devolves the sound of human laughter to monkey-and-ape mating calls and generally fucks shit up in a breathlessly defiant way. "All Cultures," "Shamans" and "Curse ov the Vulk Makedonski" sample bazourkas and zithers and whatever-the-hell-else you can imagine to create the audio equivalent of an inner-city melting pot near you. Put simply, Lost in the Real Sky might be one of the best, and certainly one of the most ambitious, hip-hop releases you'll hear this year. Not only is its production broad in scope and flawless in execution; it single-handedly captures an otherwise elusive portrait of third-world culture in Australia and elsewhere along the way - proof that music can exist as masterpiece and social document simultaneously. - Splendid |
2XLP/Out Of Print