This final entry is also one of the most recent additions to my all-time favourite album list.
Before 2013, I wasn't even aware Macha had ever existed. I discovered them one day by way of Youtube's recommended videos, which linked me to a song called 'No Surprise Party', taken from what I would later learn was their third and final album, 'Forget Tomorrow'. The song that crept from my speakers was a sprawling, post-rock slow burner that blended eastern sounds with traditional indie-rock, and I instantly knew I wanted more.
Assuming the rest of the album to be similar, I picked up 'Forget Tomorrow' but was disappointed to learn it didn't really sound much like the song I'd first heard and, in my opinion wasn't actually very good. However, instead of writing the band off, I gave them another chance and picked up this album, and I'm glad I did: SIAW is a much better record that has more in common with the song that turned me on to this band in the first place. I later decided to gave their eponymous debut a chance as well and enjoyed that too.
Once again, the draw for me is the combination of eastern and western sounds; a heady concoction of post-rock, shoegaze, post-punk and traditional Far East Asian instruments that afford the music a fascinating sense of exoticism. 'The album is also impeccably produced, which is always a big plus for me: everything is clearly defined and well spaced within the mix, particularly important given the proliferation of unusual eastern instruments used throughout.
Above all, I love this album because it is both familiar and alien, curiously melding music I already know well with far eastern flavourings. A unique record that appeals in a very big way.
So, from looking at the sidebar, you'll notice that there are already two Sonic Youth entries in this round-up, and with this entry, a solo album from one of its members, it now means there are three albums in this list affiliated with Sonic Youth alone. That should illustrate just how much this band has affected me.
When I first heard this album, I'd already been into SY for a good while and felt it was time to check out some of their solo outings and outlier releases. 'Psychic Hearts' was one of the first solo records from 'Youth members that I picked up and its wonderfully bizarre, off-kilter pop struck an immediate chord.
I've heard some people say that 'Psychic Hearts' sounds like a Sonic Youth record, but I have to disagree. Other than 'Female Cop' and closer 'Elegy for all the Dead Rock Stars', this doesn't really sound like Sonic Youth, though it does lend a more focused ear to what Moore brings to the band. With this album, his unique guitar playing has a different context; the music is considerably less dense, more repetitive, spacious and minimal than a typical Sonic Youth record.
Descriptions of the music aside, this album endeared itself to me for a number of reasons: I liked its streamlined simplicity, the quirky yet sincere lyrics and the beautiful artwork, which introduced me to the world of Rita Ackermann. Finally, I especially love how this album is essentially a love letter to the oft-understated and undervalued feminine aspect of rock n' roll. It is a sentiment that informs the entire album from beginning to end and is one I also share, which perhaps explains why this 'Psychic Hearts' is so special to me as well.
Along with REM and Nirvana, Dinosaur Jr were one of the first "alternative" bands I got into as a teenager. I bought 'Where You Been' on a whim as a Christmas present to myself in 1993 having previously only heard the band's name being mentioned elsewhere, and I loved what I heard. The appeal lay in J Mascis' laid back, stoner drawl and his expressive guitar solos, and it was enough to make a fan of me.
Shortly after that, I started getting into metal and stopped listening to most of the alternative bands I'd been into, but even as I transitioned to heavier music, Dinosaur Jr continued to be a mainstay regardless. By this point, I'd amassed a few of their albums, but then, some time into my first year at uni, a then-friend played me 'Bug' for the first time.
Up until then, the Dinosaur Jr stuff I owned followed 'Bug' (in other words, their EastWest era) and whilst enjoyable, none were quite like this. 'Bug' was rawer, noisier and had more teeth than anything I'd heard from them before, and before long, it became my favourite album from them.
Some years later, my metal fixation behind me, I picked up 'You're Living All Over Me' and their eponymous debut. I wasn't too keen on the latter (too under-developed), but I came to enjoy the former almost nearly as much as this album. However, I prefer 'Bug', partly I think because I heard it first and also because I just think it sounds better overall, (due in part to the superior production).
I read somewhere that 'Bug' is Mascis' least favourite Dinosaur Jr, record, mostly due to the well-documented tensions between him and Lou Barlow during its development. I can certainly understand that, but for me, 'Bug' is a cherished album that has stayed with me consistently through my years and shifting musical seasons, making it a worthy entry here.
Between 2005-2008, I was a resident DJ in a pub I regularly frequented. And no, I wasn't a "proper" DJ; I didn't mix, beat-match or any of that fancy stuff, I simply played music I liked. My sets were quite eclectic, going from indie to electronic to hip-hop to rock to anything in between and back again. I just enjoyed playing the music I loved to people and introducing them to stuff they probably hadn't heard before. Being told that someone had discovered new artists and bands through my sets was a great feeling since I enjoy sharing music with others. Sadly, it all came to a head early 2008 when a new landlord took over and replaced all the resident DJs with people he knew, but it was fun whilst it lasted.
That said, it was during one of my sets, one evening in 2007 that somebody made a recommendation to me: a guy came to the DJ booth and asked me if I'd heard of Broken Social Scene, I told him that I had, but wasn't familiar with their music (which was the case). He recommended that I check them out as he thought I'd like them. He wasn't wrong.
The following week, I took a trip to HMV and looked to see what they had available. There was a lot to choose from, but this is the one that stood out the most to me. I hadn't heard anything by this point, so what drove me to choose this album in particular, was something between intuition and chance. In an earlier entry, I mentioned the inherent risk of buying an unknown CD, and fortunately, this was another case where such a gamble paid off.
Playing this album now reminds me of what I was doing when I first heard it. I'd not long moved into my new flat and was enjoying my independence again. Summer was just around the corner, the place I worked was only 10 minutes away from where I lived and, as mentioned above, I spent a lot of my weekends either DJ-ing or doing live gigs performing my own music. It was a really carefree and mostly happy time that I remember with great fondness, and every time I play this album, I am back there again. For me, YFIIP is best played when the sun is shining, in the spring/summer months. All the songs have that "sunshine" feel to them, and the album is one that genuinely makes me feel happy.
I never did see the guy who recommended BSS to me again, but I did start to include their tracks in my set after that whilst also moving on to some of their other albums (including the eponymous record which is quite similar to this one, but less refined overall). The song I include below was one of my many favourites, and also the one I played the most in my sets. And when I close my eyes, it's 2007 again, and there I am, alive with possibilities.
In 2008, my old friend last.fm introduced me to Regina, a group I discovered whilst tumbling down another of its rabbit holes.
The first songs I heard from them came from their second album 'Oi Miten Suuria Voimia!'. I fell in love instantly and set about picking up a copy. Being totally in Finnish, I couldn't understand any of the lyrics, but I didn't care. I just loved their warm electropop sound and gorgeous melodies. With nowhere else to go, I worked backwards and picked up their debut 'Katso Maisemaa', which I also liked. Then, sometime around 2009 I heard they had a new album in the pipeline, and grabbed it as soon as it was released.
'Puutarhatrilogia' was an earnest continuation of the band's melodic, whimsical pop stylings, but moving further towards melding their electronics with "live" and acoustic instruments, which started with 'Oi Miten'. Puutarhatrilogia' is a truly beautiful record, dripping with sunshine and wonderful tunes - and sometimes, that's all you need.
I played the album a lot during the summer of 2009, which was particularly memorable as it was the same year I met my fiance, so 'Puutarhatrilogia' also reminds me of that summer and also her. In turn, my attachment to this album is partly sentimental.
Whilst I don't speak any Finnish (though I do like the way it sounds), I have, for the most part, avoided translations of their lyrics. I prefer not knowing as it makes the music more mysterious and interesting and the few lyrics I have thrown into Google Translate have belied my imaginings. Despite coming from a notoriously cold climate, Regina's music is unexpectedly sunny to my ears, yet the lyrics I've seen don't really reflect that. So, to preserve my own perceptions, I prefer not to know. Ignorance being bliss, after all.
With some albums, you just know straight away that they will stay with you.
For me, it began the moment I heard the spidery, double-tracked guitar that opened both 'Needle in the Hay' and the album itself. Those goosebump-inducing guitars were then complemented by Smith's thin, delicate near whisper, setting the tone for what was to follow.
This debut is for me, Smith's finest album: simple, unaffected and direct. Many years ago, I had a dream where I found the phrase "Goblins don't become reality, they become albums" written on a desk. I interpreted this phrase to mean that the demons that possess us are not supernatural or corporeal; instead, they are channelled through the art we create, particularly music. It made me think about the music I listened to very differently. In this case, Smith's "goblins" are the very glue holding together this modest work, a work that is as personal and intimate as Smith's vocals, and thanks to these goblins, this album has left an unshakeable impression.
As mentioned in my Alice Coltrane entry, Jazz is not a genre I'm all that up on. A lot of it completely loses me, but the stuff I like, I do like a lot.
You don't need to be a genius to know where this is going.
'Sleeping Beauty' then, was my introduction to Sun Ra, and is the record that has stayed with me the most.
As per its opening track, this album really is the sound of incoming spring, especially in the way it builds, swells and seems to flower into life; the music really portraying the fecundity of the season it references, making this perfect to listen to right about the time this entry was written.
Each of Sleeping Beauty's 3 tracks (averaging around 10 minutes each) feel like an amazing journey, making this album an immensely enjoyable listen to for me.
Oh, and after listening to the track below, listen to Mercury Rev's 'See You on the Other Side', then you'll hear what clearly inspired them!
I came across this curious album sometime in 2007 courtesy of Boomkat, and at first, I was intrigued by the blurb on the website which, most notably, described the music as acoustic drone and ambient doom. This immediately had me wondering just what this would possibly sound like. I was also intrigued by the abstract cover art; an incomprehensible black smear (somewhat resembling a dead animal of some sort) over a soft pink background, so without really knowing what I was getting myself into, I clicked the 'Buy' button and waited for the CD.
On hitting play, I was plunged into a dark, dank world carefully sculpted from scrapes, taps, creaks and crackles, sewn together by solemn cello drones, flecks of taut, abstracted guitar and the occasional, spectral wail. This was a beautifully bleak place. The track names described the music perfectly: titles like 'The Boat Was My Friend', 'Easy on the Bones' and 'Ocean Made of Wood' conjured a haunted, nautical unease, suggested by the music itself.
I especially love this album for two reasons: it shows that soul-crushing heaviness is not the preserve of metal (and can be achieved just as effectively without loud guitars), and the organic way in which it blends the acoustic with the electronic.
Strangely, despite its foreboding atmosphere, I find 'Knive' to be quite relaxing and often read with it playing in the background. I've even fallen asleep to it a few times. It's especially perfect on bleak, rainy or overcast days, the sorts of days where you have no place to be and can just happily sit around reading and chilling. I like days like that, and maybe this is why I like this album so much.
Above all, I consider this album is a work of art and a masterful piece of uneasy listening.
Despite his music punctuating my life at various points (particularly during my childhood), I am a relative latecomer to this album, having only truly discovered it at the turn of the millennium, but what a discovery!
This is, without a doubt one of the best albums ever created. It is what the word 'epic' was invented to describe. It is something to be preserved in a subterranean time capsule for future civilisations and/or races to discover once humans are gone from this planet. Something to be beamed into space for aliens to pick up.
So yes, this album completely knocked me sideways, and the range, depth and power of its 21 song suite remains almost unmatched by any artist I can think of.
The song I've chosen below is also one of my all-time favourite songs. A euphoric, cosmic affair tinged with just the right amount of melancholy to make for a perfectly bittersweet, happysad song that gets me in the feels every time. I just had to share it.
As per an earlier entry, Flaming Lips are a band I have known and loved for many, many years.
Starting from the mid-90s, I have seen their music evolve, grow, mutate and develop in many interesting ways. Whilst I tend to prefer the noisy guitar pop they were known for back when first got into them, I have also enjoyed their post 'Clouds Taste Metallic' output for what it is, appreciating how these albums expanded the band's sonic palette, taking it to heights that could have never been anticipated from their 80s, psych/garage days. I therefore grudgingly admit that had they stuck to the 90s formula I fondly remember, what they do would've gotten old by now.
This is partly what makes 'Embryonic' so special for me. In many respects, it is -to adopt the cliche- a "return to form", having more in common with those earlier records, but still retaining the DNA of "newer" outings (in an altogether more stripped down sort of way). The songs on 'Embryonic' less like actual songs and more like free-flowing jams that just happen to gel, but this spontaneity is precisely why this record works for me and why I consider it to be one of their best.
Flaming Lips : The Sparrow Looks Up at the Machine
I was introduced to Conduits and in turn this album via Shazam, an app that is perfect for music lovers like myself.
One evening sometime around 2012, I was sitting in a pub with one of my best friends and a song came over the speakers that really caught my attention. With Shazam's help, I learned the song was 'Misery Train'. I was drawn by the haunting guitar and vocal melodies, the implied, soft menace and the bassline. I instantly knew that I needed to hear more Conduits, and that's how I found this album.
Upon picking it up, I played it almost repeatedly well into 2013, captivated by the ghostly atmosphere, rolling percussion and beautiful melodies. This is an album, that, in a relatively short space of time has wormed its way into my consciousness and has managed to stay with me ever since as a result.
Back when I was about 15, a famous reworking of 'Tom's Diner' reached number 1 in the UK charts. That was my introduction to Suzanne Vega. The song was catchy and fun, and yeah, I liked it, but it was not until I heard 'Marlene on the Wall' on a late night radio show a year or so later, that my interest in her music began in earnest.
The song seemed to fit the nocturnal ambience of that otherwise quotidian Sunday evening as I sat all alone in my room doing my homework. It was there, in this context, that I truly heard Vega for the first time and fell in love with the silken, husky tones of her voice, captivating songcraft and the compelling tales her lyrics weaved. In spite of that, it would be a few more years (and after hearing a few more songs here and there) before I even thought about picking up any of her albums, but when I finally did, this was the first. It had to be.
On hearing this album for the first time, it felt like finally meeting someone who'd long anticipated my arrival. The music spoke to me and what it said was simply this: "I've been waiting for you all this time... what took you so long?".
I often find myself drawn to music that could be described as ethereal, unearthly and haunting. It's a characteristic that has made its way into a lot of my own work (so I'm told), and is something that just seems to resonate with who I am. And it is also why I love this album since it features all three of these elements to varying degrees.
Of particular interest to me is the way Fennesz combines heavily treated guitars with his microscopically engineered electronics, completely reconfiguring the very notion of what that instrument can be. It's a trick he's used to great effect on most of his output, but 'Endless Summer' is the pinnacle for me.
Above all, this is one of those albums where mere words don't adequately convey its abstract, otherworldly beauty. I can talk about how it sounds all day, but it really has to be heard to be believed. I hate to make lazy and trite comparisons, but I think it would be fair to say that 'Endless Summer' is, in many respects, the electronic equivalent of My Bloody Valentine's 'Loveless' owing to its focus on layers, textures and hazy, dreamlike soundscapes. Also, like 'Loveless', the cover art is a perfect visual representation of the music itself.
The track I've chosen below is one of my personal favourites; a beautifully haunting and mesmerising piece that really does sound like something you might hear in a dream, and is one of the reasons why I love this record so much.
2007 was the year that introduced me to the virtuoso that is Kaki King. I'd just moved into a new flat, walking distance from where I worked and walking distance from everything else I might have needed. Life was good. :)
I was doing lots of DJ'ing as well as gigs performing my own music, and on weekdays after work, I'd get home, roll a spliff and either play video games, make tunes or spend the evening on the internet, checking out new music. Of course, being 2007, MySpace was all the rage, and to this day, I still look back on that site (quaint as it may seem now) with a measure of fondness. It wasn't perfect, but for people like me who made music or wished to seek out new sounds, it was something of a godsend.
When I wasn't uploading my own stuff to my page, I'd click through other pages of bands and artists that caught my eye. Typically, an intriguing thumbnail was enough to pique my interest, and I'd visit the page and listen to the tunes on offer. I found lots and lots of really cool stuff that way, made lots of connections with other artists (including a few remixes and by-proxy collaborations), and discovered a wealth of new music.
So yes, you already know where this is going: Kaki King was one of the artists I discovered through the platform back in its day. I still recall that evening now, sitting in the dark of my bedroom, bathed in the glow of my laptop, headphones over my ears and nicely buzzed. I can't remember the page I was on, but amongst the list of friends for that particular artist was a thumbnail of a woman's face covered in tendrils of red thread. It caught my eye, so I clicked. The first song I played on her page was the song you see below and it totally moved me. I was already in a state that made me more receptive to music, but I was genuinely impressed and listened to every track on the page. 'Red' was her most recent album at the time so most of the songs were taken from that, and based on what I'd heard, I knew I just had to get a copy, and that's exactly what I did.
I played that album a lot that year and beyond; she blended her obvious virtuosity with actual songwriting in a way that really hit home with me. Of course, I soon followed this with her previous albums and enjoyed those too, but this is the album that has stayed with me because as a first discovery, and, when combined with the nostalgia from the time I first heard it, makes the music even more special for me.
Since then, I've seen King live twice and have picked up everything she's gone on to release. I even met her briefly after a show in 2015 but forgot to mention how much of an impact this particular record had on me. It's probably just as well, to be honest, I might've sounded all gushy, and that's never a good look.
The Burial zeitgeist initially passed me by. I remember lots of hype around his first album in particular, but the bits I heard left me cold and I failed to see what all the fuss was about. However, fellow last.fm user encouraged me to give Burial's music another chance as he was confident that, given my tastes, it would be something I'd like. So, I gave Burial another go.
Around the same time, I was frequenting a friend's flat where a group of us would gather, listen to music, play video games, drink beer and get high etc. Typical guy stuff, basically. Said friend and his then flatmate were both big into Burial, so his music would inevitably figure its way into our sessions, and it was there and then that I finally got it.
Even so, the album I have the most affinity towards is this, the second. Whilst the first record is also good, I just like this one more. Its the skilful fusing of two-step Garage beats with his characteristically ghostly, abstract electronic glitter that appeals, and the perpetually nocturnal atmosphere Burial's music generally evokes.
I love listening to this late at night, walking the empty streets with it on my earphones. I feel like a ghost haunting the sleeping streets of the city; alive in the moment of pure solitude and indestructible tranquillity. It's almost Zen-like.
Oh, and I absolutely LOVE the song below. Again, late at night on the streets with not a soul around, it's the best thing ever.
Sometime in 2009, I heard Bohren for the first time. I don't remember how they crossed my path, but I suspect it may have been via last.fm. My first album was 'Sunset Mission' whose smooth, film-noir Jazz was just the sort of thing I'd always wanted to listen to more of, but I never knew where to look. The album served as a great introduction and whet my appetite for more. 'Dolores' (which was the previous album), was my second foray into that black and white detective movie world Bohren's music conjured, only this time the music was slower, thicker and even more portentous. Something about the feel of this record immediately grabbed me.
One of the things I love about 'Dolores' the most is the sound of its drums: they are sparse and infrequent but hit with an almost primal, gut-wrenching intensity. The kicks thud like a very slow heartbeat and the spaces between the snares feel like yawning chasms. Another thing I love is the sheer heaviness of the record, which is delivered through the thick as molasses pacing and the almost suffocating, doom-like atmosphere. Make no mistake, this is not the heaviness of metal (there's not a single note of guitar on the entire album); Bohren's density is subtle, deceptive, but no less powerful.
I have to admit, when I first heard Antipop Consortium, I wasn't impressed.
Fortuitously, I found 'Tragic Epilogue' going cheap in a charity shop. I bought it, and whilst I appreciated their experimental approach, it didn't grab me as much as I had hoped, so I quickly sold it on. I never really gave APC any further thought after that until I heard 'Human Shield' on a late night radio show, but it was enough to rejuvenate my interest, and soon after, I made a point of picking up 'Arrhythmia'.
On first listen, I was blown away by the sheer freshness of the record. I loved their combination of experimental electronica techniques and hip-hop and wondered why there wasn't more of this. The rhymes were also unlike anything traditionally being served up by a lot of rap music at the time, and whilst APC weren't the only emcees veering off the beaten track, they did what they did with style, flair and precision. To me, it was like verbal ninjitsu. Beans I could take or leave, but both M Sayid and High Priest blew me away with their bars.
Sometime after the release of APC's 3rd album 'Fluorescent Black', I revisited 'Tragic Epilogue' and found myself enjoying it a lot more the second time around, but 'Arrhythmia' has stayed with me largely because I consider it to be their most consistent and rounded album. Whilst the rhyming across all three albums is of comparable quality, 'Arrhythmia' benefits from being leaner (the other two could really do with some editing...) and having better beats overall.
All in all, I consider 'Arrhythmia' to be an exceptional record, one that treats hip-hop as an artform rather than a pantomime, and it will always stay with me for that reason.
I first became aware of Oval (Markus Popp) sometime around the turn of the millennium. However, it was not until I played the fantastic Rez in 2001 and unlocked the bonus 'Trance Mission' stage, that I actually heard any of his music. As I played, abstract soundscapes spilled out of my speakers to accompany the bleeding colours and wireframe visuals. I didn't really know what to make of it all at first if I'm being honest. As part of an unlockable bonus stage in a video game, it worked, but I wasn't sure if it was something I wanted to listen to. A bit later on, I had a chance to listen to some Oval properly, starting with '94 Diskont', which I enjoyed a lot more than I thought I would, but it was this album that really made me a fan.
If you don't already know, Popp's creations are the result of him scratching CDs and then playing back and sampling the results, which are then arranged and reinterpreted into his compositions. For me, the way he tempers and tames the chaos of dissonance and bends it to his will is very similar to what Sonic Youth do; the only real difference being the toolset: Sonic Youth manipulate guitars whilst Popp manipulates the digital glitches of damaged optical media.
So yes, 'Systemisch' was an immediately compelling listen: ostensibly, the coldly digital clicks and glitches generated from skipped CDs are the very definition of inorganic, but the humanity is apparent in the arrangements, and therein lies both the fascination and beauty.
In short, I love this record because of the unique manner in which Popp crafts digital noise and the way it subverts what music can be, electronic or otherwise. And for precisely that reason, it has left a lasting impression on me.
I was about 16 when I first heard of Tool. It was around the time their first album 'Undertow' had dropped. A friend from school had the album on cassette, and I was fascinated by the cover, which resembled a red-hued, holographic rib cage; intuitively, I knew this was no ordinary "metal" band. I persuaded him to let me borrow the tape so I could copy it, and my knowings were readily confirmed.
The band Tool would later become was still in formation, but this was a different type of metal. The atmosphere their music invoked was somewhere between playfully unsettling and "arty" (though not pretentious), the usual metal cliches almost entirely absent (no aggressive posturing, or cartoonish appeals to gore or the diabolical). One of the things that stood out the most was vocalist Maynard James Keenan's voice. Pretty much every fan of Tool (and Maynard's other bands) talks about his voice so I won't go into it too much, but there is a reason why it is so celebrated. The range is staggering: a smooth, serpentine croon at one moment, suddenly exploding into a spiteful, caustic yell, Keenan's tones never fail to burrow emotional contours. His voice, not so much something you hear as feel.
Around '96 I heard 'Aenima' for the first time and loved it straight away. By this point, their sound had developed even further, as had the songwriting. Keenan was on top form as always, but it was here that I really started to notice drummer Danny Carey as well. To this day, he remains one of my favourite drummers owing to his work with the band.
Fast forward about 9 years, I found myself on an internet forum (remember those?) for games, films and music. In the music folder, we would create "mixtapes", upload them to a file transfer site and post them on the forum. Other denizens would then download and critique. It was a good way of sharing and discovering new music. And it was through this that I first encountered the song 'Lateralus' by Tool from the album of the same name.
By this point, I hadn't listened to any Tool in earnest for some time, but hearing 'Lateralus' immediately reawakened my interest in the band. The song was a 9-minute epic journey that in many ways put expression to how I felt as I stood at my own spiritual crossroad. So, after playing the song a lot for many weeks, I wanted to hear the rest of the album, so I picked it up. This was around 2005, a good 4 years after the initial release.
'Lateralus' didn't grab me the way the previous two albums did on first listen. It took a few plays before the songs really galvanised, but once they did, the record opened itself up to me in a big way. Without a doubt, I consider this album to be their most complete and accomplished work. To my mind, it is a spiritual album, a work with many layers and hidden depths that I still find myself uncovering now. It came to me during a personal low point (as touched upon briefly in other entries) but was somewhat instrumental in lifting me out. That process of transformation and rebirth was long and it was painful, but it was entirely necessary, and 'Lateralus' was my companion through it all. The song 'Reflection' particularly spoke to me at that 11th hour as lyrically, it seemed to both represent where I was offered a way out of that darkness, but every song on this record has spoken to me in some way or another on this journey.
So yes, this is why I consider 'Lateralus' an all-time favourite. To me, it's more than just an album; it is a device, it is a Tool.
If I was to compile a list of my top five emcees, MF DOOM would definitely be at the top of that list. I never fail to be impressed by his lyrical agility and deft wordplay. Yet, across his expansive output, with projects spanning a variety of aliases, it is this, his first Viktor Vaughn album that has stayed with me the most.
All the hallmarks that make him such an exemplary rapper are present and correct: the funny, surreal lyrics, the seemingly effortless manner in which he toys with words, and the quirky patchwork of old cartoon and TV show samples that segue the tracks, not to mention that distinct drawl. For me, 'Vaudeville' features what I consider to be some of his best work, the abstract, electronica of some of this album's tracks particularly standing out to me for obvious reasons.
One of my favourite things about DOOM's music is the way you discover new things within his rhymes every time you listen. It's similar to the feeling you get when you re-watch a well-written film and discover a new element you'd previously overlooked. This, of course, is testament to DOOM's remarkable skill and craft.
