| For generations, high profile artists and collaborators have concealed their notoriety behind various side-project aliases in an attempt to explore new (and often eclectic) extensions of their creativity. With no previously established expectations to accommodate, they are free to seek out alternative forms of expression without imposing on a particular signature style. On their second release, Ten, cLOUDDEAD continues to screw with the system, splicing fragmented beats, lyrical meaning and genre-defying melodies to create an album loosely equatable to a Gestalt experience. Spawned from the core of the Anticon Collective, artists Doseone, Why? and Odd Nosdam search for meaning created by loose connections and personal revelation. And by abandoning the obvious hip hop methodology of their previous incarnation, they walk the thin line between the obscure and the familiar. Like a Lynchian movie, Ten plays through like a surreal experiment, chock-full of mysterious characters and overlapping timelines that unravel with each listen. The album's opener, "Pop Song," layers whispered mantras over the backdrop of vintage samples, allowing the listener only a fragmented glimpse of what to expect. Nosdam's fluid beats propel the track through the dense fog like some whacked-out carnival ride, an unexpected appearance at every turn. Ambient soundscapes buzz like insects, connecting the negative space between tracks into a cohesive whole. A boot camp loud speaker announces something in the background, and it's on to track 2. "Keen Teen Skip" begins with the crackle of old vinyl, followed by a single piano note, played slightly out of tune. Dose and Why's nursery rhyme antics float through a mechanized haze of abstract beats and found sounds. Lyrics such as "There is no search party for a star gone dim" fade in and out of grasp, until the multilayered loops align, dissolving into a slow, solitary pulse. A storm of back masking swells up on "Rifle Eyes," wrapping around the lyrical interplay of an MC sermon. The heavy strum of guitar punctuates each escalating wave, as a flood of impending doom draws near. Then, without warning, the chaos subsides to the drone of a church organ chord. "Dead Dogs Two" is this momentary lapse into sobriety, as if heavy stage curtains have been flung open to reveal shards of disorienting clarity. The hook of an indie rock bass line springs forth like a long empty highway, and somewhere, a young narcoleptic drops on the asphalt. And like an AM radio station that offers some company, the chorus flows through with a bouncy benevolence, "It's hard to stand the sight of two dogs dead, under a sky so blue. You have to stop the blood to your head to fit the breath in front of you." Although often lumped together as a leftfield hip-hop project, cLOUDEAD's latest offering sets them apart from mainstream tags employing loose, stream of consciousness stylings and multi-faceted influences. Bound together with intuitive imagery and hypnotic, beat-laden verses, their sound paves the way for further exploration into the deep recesses of the unknown. And if Ten is any indication of what's to come, we're in for a pretty wild ride. - Music Spork |
1XLP/Out Of Print