Originally issued as a straggle of six ten-inch EPs, and now gathered on one long player, the sound on cLOUDDEAD depicts dense, foggy, enveloping noise, with fissured thick-set moods recorded on the cheapest of Tascam four-tracks. This album of six-seven minute tracks is as contemplative, strange, and un-thunking-beat-loopish as hip-hop gets; Doseone and why's rambling verbal turns often found buried in deep, disconcertingly loud vinyl crackles and machine hum. But to call cLOUDDEAD hip-hop's answer to post-psychedelic ambient guitar drone, or to, indeed, champion them as hip-hop's answer to the lo-fi confessionals that littered indie-rock throughout the 90s might obscure the bizarre shifts in tone, constant humor, subtle experimentation, and willful provocation of the set. Nevertheless, such thoughts could, if deployed, be used to highlight the set's literary lyrical evocations, whose scope is so substantial, and whose audio fidelity is so poor, that the need to have the lyrics reprinted in the CD booklet is a necessity of appreciation. - 3D World |