| On his third full-length album, producer Omid offers up a mix of moody instrumentals and contemplative vocal cuts, showcasing a yen for smoky Middle Eastern sounds and providing evocative backing for an array of emcees. Omid's first album, Beneath the Surface, drew on his association with the Project Blowed camp and was packaged as a compilation rather than a producer album - though Omid produced every track. Beneath the Surface received a glowing response in hip-hop circles, becoming a definitive document of the scene on par with Fat Jack's Cater to the DJ and a necessary companion piece to the seminal Project Blowed. With that substantial feather in his cap, Omid's name is more prominently placed on Monolith. He also now has the heft to draw collaborators from beyond his local scene, here represented by Slug of Atmosphere and Buck 65. One might wonder how well the monotonic, plodding Buck would mesh with the sounds of a producer best known for backing melodic, hyperkinetic West Coasters, but his turn on "Double Header" may be the best on the album. I'd never quite grasped Buck's appeal before, but with Omid to rein in his worst excesses he proves both poetic and clever, offering a rasping glimpse on a cadre of women "just like in magazines: stern, precious, too pissy, ferocious, blank." Omid's melding of circus organ and groovy bass anchors Buck's disjointed musings about "swinging an imaginary bat at some imaginary pitches." It's at once contemplative and accessible, perhaps the best way to encapsulate what Monolith as a whole is aiming for. Hymnal, sounding vaguely like Mike Ladd, introduces the album with a mix of the esoteric and the tongue-in-cheek, recounting the story of "Robert L. Ripley," but noting upon reaching the display of "and emcee that wasn't in it for the money" that "evidently, none could be found." The album's big posse cut, "Live from Tokyo," is rather understated, even dark, consisting of little more than a truncated horn sample and insistent, squishy bass line. I don't know whether it's Omid growing apart or the Blowdians branching out, but the track works pretty nicely without falling squarely into the West Coast vibe. More archetypal is "Myth Behind the Man," featuring Abstract Rude singing harmony over a handclapping break and bowlegged bassline, and 2Mex batting cleanup, getting prophetically hardcore: "Feel that feeling of forsaking? / It's a feeling of awaking." It's also the feeling of the most dancefloor-friendly track on the album. The two most daring tracks on Monolith are tailored to the iconoclastic emcees who lace them. "I'm Just a Bill," featuring Spoon (of Iodine), recalls 70's boogie rock and early metal with its murky keyboard line, hot-cross shuffle, and spooky children's-choir hook. Spoon's doubletime basso profundo decries materialism in a rather banal manner, but his willingness to cut loose an atonal wail now and again fits the track's energy. No one wilds out like Busdriver, and "Shock and Awe" gives him a frantic mix of brain-melting power fuzz and hyperspeed breaks over which to spill his political logorrhea, before shifting to a quieter, twitchy, gamelan-looping second half. If you're looking for some nice, familiar headphone hip-hop, Monolith will scratch your itch. - Pop Matters |
2XLP/Out Of Print