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A full instrumental version of ‘Garbology’, the 2021 collaboration between American rapper Aesop Rock and hip-hop producer Blockhead. On-and-off creative foils for each other’s work going back years, the pair complemented each other perfectly on the original album, but this slate fully exposes Blockhead’s sparse and often desolate production work.
Yaphet is the new album from rapper Curly Castro- also known as one half of the dynamic duo Shrapknel- out September 18, 2026, on Backwoodz Studioz. On Yaphet, Castro draws inspiration from the Blaxploitation film genre of the 1970’s; using that era’s black heroes and antiheroes as a launching pad for his cinematic lyricism. Flows switch as effortlessly as camera angles; verses are saturated with references and entendres; it’s an endlessly rewind-worthy rap masterclass. But Yaphet is also Castro’s first solo album since 2021’s Little Robert Hutton, and beneath the fireworks, this album reflects the depth of his experiences in those intervening years. “I didn’t set out to be so honest about my life, but that’s what came out and the album is better for it,” Castro explains, “from facing the death of my infant daughter, to my father’s death, to facing my own impending mortality, these are my most vulnerable blades, on my deepest cuts.” Like Castro, this record marches to the beat of its drum, and make no mistake, there are drums a-plenty for the veteran MC to spar with, as only he can. Produced entirely by Milwaukee beat maker Locust, Yaphet is a bouncy, eclectic listen that nods to its influences, without ever looking backward. Castro is joined by a whirlwind of the genre’s finest: billy woods, PremRock, Fatboi Sharif, Brian Ennals, SKECH185, Blueprint, AJ Suede, shemar, ALASKA, Sunmundi, blackchai, & Margel the Sophant.
It’s five years in a blender. It’s every troublesome misunderstanding of a half-decade relationship distorted and stretched into an absurdist black comedy mini-series on wax. It’s the sound of every fight we ever had, playing simultaneously. It’s several consecutive voice notes that you did not listen to, and instead read the transcription. It’s fifteen songs from iconoclastic rapper Mike Eagle and innovative producer Kenny Segal. It’s the world’s first half-whimsical break-up album. It’s DOOMED! It’s also LA. Maybe not first and foremost, but Los Angeles runs deep in this record’s present, and its lineage. The story of any big city is also one of transplants. DJ Premier in New York, Tupac in California. If you build it, they will come. Mike and Kenny both arrived in LA as young, aspiring artists who were drawn to the scene around groundbreaking rap crew Project Blowed. They have been friends— and occasional collaborators—for almost twenty years. Despite that, DOOMED! is the first time the two have put together a full body of work. But everything happens in its time, and fate worked to bring them together at the exact moment that would allow the duo to create something extraordinary. Mike, fresh off a string of multi-producer records and processing the end of a tumultuous relationship, was in need of creative catharsis. Meanwhile, Kenny had locked in on his next challenge after a recent string of critically acclaimed collaborations not only with rappers like billy woods, and K-the-I???, but also jazz trio Human Error Club and bluesy indie rocker Benjamin Booker. “In recent years, Kenny made it very clear that he wasn’t trying to keep having one or two beats on my projects; he wanted to build something,” Open Mike Eagle explains. “I was able to convince him to let me use a couple beats for Neighborhood Gods Unlimited with the caveat that we would focus on our thing next. Then my relationship fell apart right when we started working, and it was like, ‘Perfect, I have a lot to say about this.’” Here are some more particularly interesting insights from the man himself: “If DOOMED! is prestige TV, then think of “Out To Lunch” as the pilot where we meet a man who’s not all there because his head is still in yesterday, and the following as a brief synopsis. There’s a song that starts at an argument about the color of a rental car. There’s a song about trying to write a pair of lovers’ initials in wet concrete and the. stick breaking. There’s a song that’s a prayer about finding the strength not to look at my ex’s social media. There’s a song about a character from Adventure Time who’s a piece of shit that I identify with. ach vision is a crashed airplane halfway on the border of dream and nightmare, bitter and sweet, sadness and freedom. Every one of Kenny’s beats is a chunk of ore from a different comet. I used each one as a canvas to paint my impression of a dead world.
Sortilège is the new album from esteemed producer and DJ Preservation and ascendant talent Gabe ‘’Nandez. The two artists first linked on Aethiopes, Preservation’s 2022 collaboration with billy woods, where Nandez was featured alongside Boldy James on one of the album’s standout tracks. “Sauvage” became the catalyst for Sortilège, as the New Orleans-based producer and New York-based rapper gradually began exchanging ideas—first long distance, then in February 2024, when Nandez flew to New Orleans for two weeks, ready to work.
“It was smooth, very synergetic,” ‘Nandez explains. “We listened to mad music—Boot Camp Clik, Scaramanga, Cuban Linx—and I was asking questions about all types of shit, trying to soak up game and history, which I did.”
The two also bonded over their shared francophone ancestry: Preservation is half French and ‘Nandez is half Malian. These connections made their way into the music as well, via both aesthetics and sample sources, and that sort of exchange courses through Sortilège, bridging the generational, geographical, and cultural gaps between the two artists with a record that feels a world unto itself. Esoteric, yet blunt and uncomplicated as a fistfight, Sortilège erases the line between urbane and urban. It’s a movie in a lucid dream, A Clockwork Négritude projected against the wall of a construction site. Mixed-use residential.
Tracing this arc, fellow travelers Armand Hammer, Koncept Jack$on, Ze Nkoma Mpaga Ni Ngoko, and billy woods all make appearances. Oh, and there are drums everywhere: drums that will rattle a hooptie and drums that whisper threats. Somehow, over the course of 14 tracks, Preservation seems to find his way to every instrument imaginable—yet each beat has room to breathe. Amidst this breakbeat symphony, ‘Nandez’s unmistakable baritone glides purposefully, ever forward, a bristling warship in troubled waters. Every time the bass thumps, ‘Nandez counterpunches. This is a record for heavyweight speakers and clunky headphones.
Sortilège can be translated as either:
Magical / Supernatural: Act of witchcraft, magical spell, charm, or curse.
Figurative / Literary: Symbolic enchantment, inexplicable fascination, often caused by a person, work of art, or an atmosphere.
We like to think it names the force at work within and between these songs.
Assembling a 'Kwaidan'-style anthology from chewed scraps of noir, horror and dystopian sci-fi movies, billy woods chronicles Black American angst on 'GOLLIWOG', running circles around his peers and arriving on the AOTY for fans of Ka, EARL, Aesop Rock, Westside Gunn or Cannibal Ox. Featuring production from El-P, The Alchemist, DJ Haram, Saint Abdullah, Shabaka Hutchings and others.
The English language is violence, I hotwired it woods coolly quips on 'Jumpscare', tossing out run-on cadences to juggle polyrhythms between beatless double-bass and vaudeville Pan Sonic-esque electrical interferences. Within a track, he fully establishes the concept for 'GOLLIWOG', an album that surveys the full spectrum of horror, splicing together creaking floorboards, ticking clocks, industrial clanks, Herrmann-esque stabs and detuned pianos, maniacal screams and blood-curdling laughs to accompany knotty tales of corporeal terror. It's horrorcore in a sense, cobbling together its scenery with the same congealed raw materials as Necro or Prince Paul, but woods uses the schlocky formula to lighten his death blows, landing some of the deepest lyrical lacerations of his lengthy career so far; 'Dead Body Disposal' it ain't. "Daddy longlegs stride your home like Cecil Rhodes," he nicks, equating the fear of (harmless) spiders with the terror of a real-life boogeyman - the coloniser of Zimbabwe (where woods' father was born), no less. And the track ends with a seemingly throwaway vocal sample: "a horrid sight, the blackest gnome." A description of the titular character from American author Florence Kate Upton's 19th century children's book 'The Adventures of Two Dutch Dolls and a Golliwogg', it's actually a clue to unpicking the album's title. What's fear, exactly, ponders woods, and what's merely ideology? And how does all of this become entertainment, let alone throwaway cutesy fodder for kids?
American horror as a genre has long broadcast the innermost fears of a nation who wears its ideology so boldly that it almost vanishes. Way back in the early 20th century, H.P. Lovecraft's racism manifested in stories of an ancient evil lurking beneath the New World's disturbed earth; later on, in the wake of the contraceptive pill and the subsequent free love movement, promiscuity was met with death and mutilation in an endless slew of slasher movies; and during peak neoliberalism, a taste for "torture porn" offset the stasis of safe liberal suburbia. woods accepts the history of horror, and proposes a true Black American Gothic archetype; just like Jordan Peele's 'Get Out' bolted together familiar tropes to signal how psychologically traumatic the Black experience can be within manicured white confines, woods bundles various cultural spikes to fabricate a more dangerous lyrical weapon. On 'BLK ZMBY', the ubiquitous zombie myth - a Haitian folkloric invention that was famously repurposed by George Romero in the '60s as a critique of American capitalism - is used as packaging for a barrage of knowledge that wraps references to Fela, Dune and Usual Suspects in thorny post-colonial theory. In Romero's 'Night of the Living Dead', the Black lead character spends 90 minutes fighting off zombies only to be shot in cold blood by beer chugging rednecks; now, woods' Black zombies have taken over the asylum, ignoring accountability and poisoning the water supply while the third world's corpse is sucked dry. "Zombies go home to platters of prawn and escargot," woods says, not letting Biggie off the hook. "New mothers struggle while the zombies suckle like baby goats."
DJ Haram handles the production on 'All These Worlds are Yours', dilating Shabaka Hutchings' transcendent improvisations with damaged '50s b-movie oscillations, rasping amp distortions and microtonal drones. "Today, I watched a man die in a hole from the comfort of my own home," woods recounts, accepting the day-to-day wartime horror-tainment we're fed on social media, 'Human Centipede'-style. "Trench fire, silent weapons, body horror, private booth," replies E L U C I D, woods' longtime Armand Hammer cohort. And woods coaxes out some of El-P's best production work in years on 'Corinthians', linking snippets of Lu Xun's 'Diary of a Madman' - that equates the Confucian ethical system with cannibalism - with the breakdown of late-stage Abrahamic morals that'll be closer to home for Anglophone listeners. "Best believe them crackers won't make it to Mars," he quips, double-underlining a verse that muddles St. Paul with Steven King, and Noah with the military industrial complex. By itemizing his own fears in a sequence of 'Cat's Eye'-style vignettes, woods launches hooks into the contemporary façade of terror-as-amusement, a fairground haunted house that's populated with very real demons. It's shockingly effective - the Pulitzer-ready rap album woods has been promising for aeons, and one of the very best things we've heard this year so far.
Apr 02, 2021 (EST) CD JID006cd 4062548020762 $6.00 Apr 02, 2021 (EST) LP - Black JID006lp 4062548020519 $15.00 TOTAL Gary Bartz JID006 is the sixth installation in the Jazz Is Dead catalog. This album features eight original songs by Adrian Younge, Ali Shaheed Muhammad and Gary Bartz, the alto saxophonist that pioneered a new style alongside Miles Davis during his electric era. Bartz' solo work has been sampled by hip hop artists such as A Tribe Called Quest, Black Sheep & Jurassic 5. Gary Bartz JID006 pulls inspiration from the heaviest parts of Bartz sampled catalog. All songs produced by Adrian Younge & Ali Shaheed Muhammad. Recorded and mixed by Adrian Younge at Linear Labs, the preeminent analog studio of Los Angeles, CA.
This is fun. L.A. purveyor of beats and certified hip-hop aficionado Samiyam, of Stones Throw and Flyamsam (with FlyLo) fame has made an album dedicated to another passion of his: a love of Death Metal. Thus the new record was born, consisting of 13 tracks of heavy beats and even heavier metal tones. Far out.
Happy Today, the third album from guitarist/bandleader Jeff Parker’s long-running ETA IVtet, was recorded live at Lodge Room in Los Angeles on August 20, 2025. This fresh entry into the IVtet’s catalog captures Parker and the band – including drummer Jay Bellerose, bassist Anna Butterss, and saxophonist Josh Johnson – on record outside of the now-shuttered Highland Park micro-club ETA for the first time.
The performance also captures a distinctly joyful night of togetherness set against the backdrop of dark times. “2025 was a very difficult year for me and my family,” Parker says. “Dealing with being displaced from the Eaton fires for eight months, and the kind of toll that that instability took on my family’s mental health and general outlook, coupled with Donald Trump being back in office and basically making life miserable for everyone… There was a lot of sadness and despair. But feeling the sense of community that we created with our concert, and later hearing the recording, seeing the beautiful footage that had been shot and the photographs of such joy to be back in that space and to be making music again: It was a very happy moment. So I called the record Happy Today. It’s meant to be a statement of joy.”
That joy and camaraderie found in communal space seems to be a major catalyst for the ETA IVtet’s music. The band’s audience is, somehow, an essential part of the formula. Case in point: the show at Lodge Room was actually meant to be the cherry on top of a weekend of studio sessions by the band. Those sessions were intended to be the next album released by the group, its first ever studio record. Upon listening back, though, it was clear to Parker that the Lodge Room performance was the recording that shined brightest and felt most true to the band’s spirit, harkening back to the weekly session the four musicians held at ETA for so many years.
ETA was undoubtedly more than just the namesake of the band. Part laboratory, part low-stakes proving ground, it’s where the language of the IVtet’s sound percolated and coalesced over the course of an almost mythical seven-year-long Monday night residency that yielded two critically-acclaimed records—2022’s Mondays at The Enfield Tennis Academy and 2024’s The Way Out of Easy—and an instantly recognizable group sound.
Happy Today is that sound—the IVtet's signature syntax built around long-form, minimalist improvisation—expanding confidently into a larger space while creating the same hypnotizing, deeply-tuned listening effect on visibly enraptured audiences. The album contains two sidelong pieces recorded as the band performed in the round at Lodge Room, surrounded by an audience of 400 or so deep listeners. (The venue, appropriately enough, sits on the same street and just a few hundred feet away from the storefront that used to be ETA.)
The drastic change in venue size, and this document in general, is representative of an expanding demand to experience this band live that has been surging for years, starting with the release of their debut album Mondays. For the subsequent, final year that ETA was open, there would typically be a line down the block on Monday evenings, with far more people trying to catch the show than the club could hold. Even if you could get inside the building, given the limited capacity, the IVtet was a difficult band to actually see play. Couple that with the fact that before the closure of the club in December 2023, the IVtet had never played outside of Los Angeles. Access to the live experience had been extremely limited, and that has seemed to feed a sense of mystery and allure around the band’s music for the many fans of Mondays and The Way Out of Easy.
On paper, the IVtet’s growing audience is something of a conundrum. After all, minimal longform improvisation is likely the precise antithesis of streaming-centered content culture. Despite that, at the show that produced Happy Today, as with any IVtet show, the audience willingly settles into and accepts the band’s pace as they iron out a story which digs deeply into every facet of an idea before investigating a new one. Here the attention economy feels lightyears away, the crowd instead surrendering to that old and very human penchant for listening. With open ears, the crowd stands ready for a big yarn, a long tale, and from the jump there seems to be a trust between performer and audience that mimics the trust between the musicians as they move from detail to detail.
“The band isn't afraid to explore static spaces,” says Parker. “It seems like the thing is to stay on one idea for a while. Really, for a long time. To kind of exhaust it. And then one person shifts and then the thing moves together.”
“Everybody is constantly dropping crumbs and you can take them or you can leave them,” agrees Bellerose. “There are these little hints, these little moments, and everybody's aware of them.”
“When it is time to change, it can change very quickly,” says Butterss. “If someone suggests a new idea, it can flip in an instant. Everyone's constantly ready to go with it if the moment calls for it.”
“Like Swimwear,” the side-length opener of Happy Today, contains a quintessential example of this distinct IVtet move. The track gets off the ground slowly but deliberately, ramping up tension over the course of its first ten minutes without a moment of harmonic dissonance. The band, rather, steadily pulls at the corners of the rhythm. Here each member steps forward and backward in the sonic space to build a gleefully disorienting group cadence, where the repetitions of the individual overlap in such a trancelike way that even soloistic breaks from Parker’s electric guitar or Johnson’s effected alto sax never manage to snap the tension wire. Bellerose works deep into the rhythmic fascia, employing all manner of auxiliary percussion—strewn across his kit, tucked into his shoe, or wrapped around his legs—all without a hint of novelty. Every micro-choice comes from a place of both curiosity and confidence.
And then the shift: just as the thing is about to come unglued Bellerose opts into a smooth, low-register downbeat groove that Butterss has been auditioning for the previous minute or so. Parker swiftly kicks into an organ-like drone while Johnson and Butterss stay the course. It’s a series of decisions that could go any number of ways depending on the night, like running water pushing into fresh geography, moving from tributary to mainstream, past the levee and into the floodplain. There is no set path; if it went a different direction it would still be the cumulative result of the same water flowing.
That is to say that there are no hard and fast rules to what the IVtet does. Defining the music, in fact, is something that the band takes special care not to do. Living in that mystery, it seems, helps to keep the path open, cleared to push into new and satisfying territory.
“For me, the thing to protect is just where it started from, which was freedom and openness,” says Bellerose. “In the early days of the band Jeff was recognizing how we were all communicating within the structure of playing standards. He's one of the greatest producers I've ever worked with because he has this vision. And a big part of producing is casting—putting the right people in the room. So these shifts, they're completely natural within these improvised pieces that we do because the foundation was there and Jeff knew it. He had already noticed the communication within the band, but wanted to really push it further.”
The key to Parker’s push lies in the generosity to step back, to allow each member an equal voice, and to de-center himself. What we hear on Happy Today is an egalitarian group sound by design, curious and intuitive.
“Everybody's listening in a way where it's not always like ‘I'm going to go with you’,” says Johnson. “But it's always ‘I hear you’. And sometimes it's ‘I hear you and I'm going to stay here and allow the tension of these two things to exist for a while before maybe joining you.’ But the thing that's cool is that everybody’s hearing it. Because of the time that we've spent together there’s a maturity to the listening—a very special version of deep listening.”
“The number of times that we've talked about the music is so few compared to the years and years of playing,” Johnson continues. “I think that's one of the really beautiful things about the band—how organically the way that we play together has come about and evolved over time. Definitely on brand for the music that the band makes too. Slowly evolving, long form development.”
“I learned how to improvise in this band,” reveals Butterss, astonishingly. “I didn't really play improvised music before. So my whole approach to improvisation has been shaped by playing with Jeff, Jay, and Josh. It is a band and it has its own language. I think you could drop the needle on any of the recordings and people would be able to say ‘that's the quartet.’ It's very distinctive and it's developed very organically. We have never talked about it, I don't think.”
“That's our band,” says Parker of “Like Swimwear,” almost with an outsider’s sense of fascination at the recording. He seems to feel the same enchantment and surprise that the audience does while listening, despite being a primary part of the process. “That's it. I mean, that's what the ETA Quartet does.”
It’s a blessing for this band to be so expertly documented in its naturally public, live context. The two sidelong improvisations from Lodge Room that make up Happy Today, as with the recordings that made up the IVtet’s first two albums, are beautifully rendered by engineer Bryce Gonzales—recorded and mixed live, direct to a Nagra tape machine utilizing a compact outboard rig that he built himself, specifically to record this band. Much like the thumbprint originality coming from the players themselves, Gonzales’ capture of the music is its own signature, his mixes a form of sound improvisation themselves.
A major addition to this particular presentation is the full album length film by Charlie Weinmann, documenting the band's performance of Happy Today at Lodge Room, which will be released in tandem with the album. A shadow-laden, almost noirlike capture of the band in its full sprawling glory, Weinmann’s camera makes the joyful reality of seeing the IVtet at work widely accessible for the first time.
With Happy Today the reach of Parker’s IVtet extends further than ever before, but the essential formula, if there is one, remains the same. The anchor seems to be in variations on an almost alchemical communication—a feeling of connection between band members, sure, but also between the band and the audience. It’s an ongoing trust exercise, born organically in the corner of a small room in Los Angeles and flowing outward at exactly its own natural pace. It’s social music with a clear ability to move those willing to listen. Happy Today is an invitation to become part of the exchange and experience the joy of deep listening.
Nueen follows production for Iceboy Violet and a string of releases for Quiet Time Tapes, Good Morning Tapes and Balmat, with a sprawling new album for 3XL, an ambient drill epic featuring guest spots from Dawuna, Space Afrika, Loraine James, Xzavier Stone and RenzNiro. Everything clicked into place for Nacho Pezzati when he turned the humid soundscapes of his early releases into distorted beds for Iceboy Violet's casual free associations on the Hyperdub-released ‘You Said You'd Hold My Hand Through the Fire' back in 2024. He retains the same energy on 'Swerved', working alongside a team of vocalists and collaborators to locate a sweetspot between rap, dub and ambient vistas. His methodology is laid bare on 'Searchtiers', obscuring its UK drill-style sliding bass with weightless synths and gaseous FX, upping the ante when vocalist and producer Xzavier Stone jumps on the mic on 'Nowhere Near A Section'. The addition of proper hooks, adlibs and rhymes - "let it burn like Usher Raymond" - makes the production hit that much harder, not just referencing radio rap and R&B but challenging the paradigm. Fittingly, Loraine James, who early on inhabited similar zones, lends her voice to the grimy 'Atmosphere is my Style', whispering over Pezzati's hair metal samples and booming 808 Mafia-style basses. Manny's own RenzNiro checks in on 'Impls', rhyming over one of Nueen's most decisive beats, all clipped snares, gong samples and tweaked bass. And Space Afrika turn up with an assist on the low-slung highlight 'Shm', a smoove and sensual D'Angelo-style soul banger with none other than Dawuna on the mic. Dawuna returns on 'Matrix', splitting duties with Xzavier Stone who provides an impressive '00s post-jiggy hook and Pezzati's vision materialises. The haze of half-remembered bites of cloud rap, pop and club rap represents a post-P2P hauntology that's global, not really localised. And connecting with Space Africa again on the closing track 'I Guess', he travels beyond the boundaries of the album itself, lavishing SA's orchestral cries with fuzzy synths and swirling vocals.
Dae Han is the unsung backbone behind progressive Honolulu acts and international artists. He’s the go-to drummer whenever Japanese rapper Shing02 tours the US and Asia with a full band. In 2019, Takuya Kuroda tapped Dae to organize a band to support the Brooklyn-based trumpeter’s gig at Blue Note Hawaii. Dae also recently teamed up with guitarist Gilbert Batangan and bassist Mark Tanouye to open for Khruangbin. And every year he organizes an always impressive jazz-forward tribute to the late J Dilla. On the drums, Dae’s swift, technical style compliments every situation, from jazz and funk to R&B, reggae, and hip hop. Much the same, Dae has approached the compositions and arrangements for his debut with craft and purpose. BLUE, coming in February 2020, came to fruition over the past 12 months with the help of Nelson Cho, the musician and recording engineer behind Lightworks Recordings in Wahiawa, Oahu. Together, the two spent countless hours honing a sound that travels across hip hop, jazz, and house. The resulting songs act as a diary of the artist’s fateful journey from Washington D.C. through New York to Honolulu, where he resides today. Reflecting on joyful highs and the lowest lows, Dae creates a collage for the listener to hear, appreciate, and understand the path he’s traveled thus far.
Black Truffle is pleased to present Even Colder Spring, the latest release from the mysterious and wildly prolific Cities Aviv (a.k.a. Wilbert Gavin Mays, who also records as African-American Sound Recordings), a rare appearance from the artist outside his own D.O.T. Audio Arts label. For over a decade, Cities Aviv has twisted hip-hop conventions into the most skewed and splayed forms, layering and lacerating twitching loops, extreme production techniques and his mercurial vocal stylings into hermetic décollage. Across 16 tracks, Even Colder Spring charts Mays’ restlessly experimental approach: what sound like fully formed productions are interrupted suddenly after seconds; interjections of field recordings cue unexpected shifts; details drown under layers of fuzz. His vocal delivery takes in rhythmically intricate rap, barely articulate murmurs and freely melodic song, the latter often with a disorientating lack of connection to the track’s harmonies. The lyrical shifts are as paratactical as the musical movements. Apocalyptic visions of social and cultural uniformity alternate with reflections on mortality, glimpses of everyday life and head-scratching one-liners: ‘Maybe Mars is bougie?’ His reference points are as surprising as ever, the Dante quotes of previous releases joined here by a tracked named after Henri Bergson’s idea of the élan vital. Australian listeners, in particular, might be especially taken aback to hear ‘Closing Door’ open with the phrase ‘the tyranny of distance’. While Mays’ work can sometime be claustrophobically bleak, the productions here are often sparkling, at times touching on the shimmer of private-issue New Age sounds and the more playful end of krautrock. The instrumental ‘Martine Drift’ could almost be a snatch of Cluster’s Zuckerzeit caught through dial-up internet. The distant echoing drums of ‘L_area’ cross Persona’s Som with lo-fi IDM, while closer ‘Final Heaven’ dissolves a cloud of loops across almost seven minutes into ecstatic, rippling distortion. The graphic design, at the artist’s request closely modelled on the format of Corwood Industries, offers as good a clue as any to what awaits the listener on Even Colder Spring: a world at once impossibly opaque and intensely personal.
Evidence has traveled the world, released a string of acclaimed albums with Dilated Peoples and as a solo artist, has become a respected producer crafting beats for Kanye West, Beastie Boys and Linkin Park among others. For his part, Alchemist has become one of rap’s triple threats, producing for Snoop Dogg, Eminem, Nas and many more. Alchemist is also an accomplished rapper and Eminem’s touring DJ. While they were building their respective careers, Evidence and Alchemist had worked together regularly collaborating on Dilated Peoples albums, Evidence’s solo material and Alchemist’s releases. As the pair continued collaborating, they began labeling themselves as Step Brothers when they would record, as noted on Evidence’s The Layover EP. The pair then decided it was time to record an album together. Now as the Step Brothers, Evidence and Alchemist deliver another stellar musical achievement, Lord Steppington, which delivers lyric-driven, punchline-heavy and intricate rhymes. Lord Steppington boasts the best of the duo peppered with frequent collaborators and friends, including Action Bronson, Roc Marciano, Domo Genesis,The Whooliganz, Styles P, Fashawn, Rakaa, Blu and Oh No.
Armand Hammer and The Alchemist build worlds. Their first was Haram and it remains locked in orbit, equal parts lush and foreboding. Their new one is called Mercy and it’s made out of blood and empire, children’s laughter, unpaid parking tickets, and things that haven’t happened yet. Rappers ELUCID and billy woods are joined on the mic by Earl Sweatshirt, Quelle Chris, Cleo Reed, Pink Siifu, Kapwani, and Silka. The Alchemist did everything else.
Looking back more than four years later at Haram, it is easier to see the forest for the trees. At the time, much of the attention fell on how this outsider duo would fare under the bright lights- which was fair, Armand Hammer had never done a single producer record before- and here they were working with a living legend. Now, with a little distance, it’s easier to see how Alchemist stepped out of his comfort zone to meet them where they were, and how all three artists then absconded for parts unknown. The flashbulb energy of “Bring The Stars Out”, asymmetric drone of “Chicharrones”, fugue-bounce of “God’s Feet”, and good luck finding analogues for “Peppertree” or “Stonefruit”. Haram doesn’t sound like anything else in the ALC discography, nor in Armand Hammer’s, for that matter. Haram was a one-shot kill that somehow contained some of the most accessible work ELUCID and billy woods had ever done, as well as some of their most experimental, and it all sounded cohesive. Needless to say, they didn’t do this alone; KAYANA’s golden voice upps the wattage on “Black Sunlight,” while Fielded’s sultry alto gets chopped and screwed on “Aubergine”. Earl Sweatshirt’s cameo on the sun-soaked “Falling Out the Sky” is already a classic. Curly Castro, Amani, and Quelle Chris all turn up the heat when called upon. But since we are talking about retrospect here, the thing about Haram isn’t that it still sounds as good as it did when it came out. The amazing thing is that it actually sounds even better than it did then. You don’t have to take our word for it either, run it up one time, with the lights low and something on ice, see if it doesn’t take you somewhere new, again.
Hiding Places is a collaborative album from Brooklyn-based rapper billy woods and Los Angeles beat scene veteran Kenny Segal, set for release by Backwoodz Studioz on March 29, 2019. On its face, it seems an unlikely pairing; woods—who moonlights as ½ of dissonant rap duo Armand Hammer—is a chaotic force, the warped relic of an NY indie-rap wave that never happened. Meanwhile, Segal has been in L.A. for twenty years; from paying dues with Project Blowed to pushing the culture forward with Busdriver and Milo. All the while, his soulful, dreamlike production precariously tethered to earth by the right drums or rumbling bass. But look closer and it makes more sense. After all, Segal lent his production to a couple of songs on Paraffin, Armand Hammer’s critically-acclaimed opus, and the two veterans have more than a few shared collaborators: Open Mike Eagle, ELUCID, and Hemlock Ernst amongst them. Hiding Places finds both artists deep in the labyrinth. Segal’s lush soundscapes have a new edge, woods’ writing is, paradoxically, at its most direct. Hiding Places is a child’s game: funny and cruel, as brutal as a fairy tale. The album features contributions from both artists’ well of collaborators with ELUCID, Self-Jupiter, and MOTHERMARY making appearances.
Originally released in June 2009, The Ecstatic stands as a defining artistic statement from Mos Def (now known as yasiin bey) — a richly textured return to form that reaffirmed his status as one of hip-hop’s most adventurous and intellectually engaged voices. Arriving a decade after his celebrated debut Black on Both Sides, the album was widely regarded as his strongest work in years, earning near-universal praise for its lyrical breadth, eclectic production, and thematic ambition. Musically, The Ecstatic weaves a global sonic tapestry shaped by an array of forward-thinking producers including Madlib, J Dilla, Oh No, Preservation, Mr. Flash, Chad Hugo (of The Neptunes), and Georgia Anne Muldrow. The resulting soundscape is both rooted in hip-hop tradition and unbound by genre, integrating elements of jazz, soul, Middle-Eastern inflection, and experimental sample work. Tracks like “Supermagic” and “Twilite Speedball” establish a vibrant, restless energy that mirrors the album’s expansive creative scope. Lyrically, yasiin bey traverses personal, political, and philosophical terrain with characteristic incisiveness, confronting social inequality, Western imperialism, and questions of cultural identity with poetic urgency. Embracing risk and complexity rather than nostalgia, The Ecstatic remains a mature, deeply felt body of work whose ambition, depth, and enduring resonance have solidified its place as a standout entry in Mos Def’s catalog and in modern hip-hop history.
It’s five years in a blender. It’s every troublesome misunderstanding of a half-decade relationship distorted and stretched into an absurdist black comedy mini-series on wax. It’s the sound of every fight we ever had, playing simultaneously. It’s several consecutive voice notes that you did not listen to, and instead read the transcription. It’s fifteen songs from iconoclastic rapper Mike Eagle and innovative producer Kenny Segal. It’s the world’s first half-whimsical break-up album. It’s DOOMED! It’s also LA. Maybe not first and foremost, but Los Angeles runs deep in this record’s present, and its lineage. The story of any big city is also one of transplants. DJ Premier in New York, Tupac in California. If you build it, they will come. Mike and Kenny both arrived in LA as young, aspiring artists who were drawn to the scene around groundbreaking rap crew Project Blowed. They have been friends— and occasional collaborators—for almost twenty years. Despite that, DOOMED! is the first time the two have put together a full body of work. But everything happens in its time, and fate worked to bring them together at the exact moment that would allow the duo to create something extraordinary. Mike, fresh off a string of multi-producer records and processing the end of a tumultuous relationship, was in need of creative catharsis. Meanwhile, Kenny had locked in on his next challenge after a recent string of critically acclaimed collaborations not only with rappers like billy woods, and K-the-I???, but also jazz trio Human Error Club and bluesy indie rocker Benjamin Booker. “In recent years, Kenny made it very clear that he wasn’t trying to keep having one or two beats on my projects; he wanted to build something,” Open Mike Eagle explains. “I was able to convince him to let me use a couple beats for Neighborhood Gods Unlimited with the caveat that we would focus on our thing next. Then my relationship fell apart right when we started working, and it was like, ‘Perfect, I have a lot to say about this.’” Here are some more particularly interesting insights from the man himself: “If DOOMED! is prestige TV, then think of “Out To Lunch” as the pilot where we meet a man who’s not all there because his head is still in yesterday, and the following as a brief synopsis. There’s a song that starts at an argument about the color of a rental car. There’s a song about trying to write a pair of lovers’ initials in wet concrete and the. stick breaking. There’s a song that’s a prayer about finding the strength not to look at my ex’s social media. There’s a song about a character from Adventure Time who’s a piece of shit that I identify with. ach vision is a crashed airplane halfway on the border of dream and nightmare, bitter and sweet, sadness and freedom. Every one of Kenny’s beats is a chunk of ore from a different comet. I used each one as a canvas to paint my impression of a dead world.
The latest mixtape LP, “Even The Devil Smiles,” comes from rapper and producer IDK (Jason Mills).
Originally released in 1998, South Central Thynk Taynk by Abstract Tribe Unique (Abstract Rude, Fat Jack, Zulu Butterfly Priest, Irie Lion King, and DJ Drez.) captured a pivotal moment in Los Angeles’ underground scene—when young Black artists were reimagining hip-hop from the ground up. Blending jazz-inflected beats, spiritual insight, and fiercely independent production, the album became an anthem for self-reliance and creative rebellion. Now reissued by Rhymesayers Entertainment as a deluxe 2xLP set with a lyric booklet and bonus track, this long-unavailable classic returns for a new generation.At the cultural core of the record is Project Blowed, a legendary L.A. crew founded by Abstract Rude and Aceyalone, which birthed a lineage of rap innovators whose fingerprints are still felt in global hip-hop. While mainstream rap embraced the West Coast’s G-funk boom, the Blowed crew forged an alternate path—steeped in jazz, radical politics, and Afrocentric futurism. Thynk Taynk stands as a richly layered time capsule from this revolutionary moment, pairing Ab Rude’s deep lyricism with Fat Jack’s genre-melding approach to production, creating a poetic reflection on family, struggle, and artistic purpose.This new edition includes the “L.A. Styles Back (Project Blowed Remix)” featuring a cross-generational lineup of heavyweights— Aceyalone, Myka 9, Medusa, Pigeon John, Blu, 2Mex, Ellay Khule, Riddlore, and NGAFSH—underscoring how L.A.’s underground has remained a creative epicenter for decades. South Central Thynk Taynk is more than a cult artifact; it’s a living document of transformation, community, and artistic power.
Critical Thot is the bold new collaborative album from Bay Area-based rapper/producer Sha Ray, and producer/electronic musician DJ Haram—two uncompromising artists reshaping rap and experimental sound. It is an intriguing pairing; Haram is one-half of the duo 700 Bliss with rapper and poet Moor Mother and has several solo records under her belt—including 2025’s critically acclaimed Beside Myself (Hyperdub)—and high profile collaborations with BbyMutha, Fever Ray, Ghais Guevara, and Armand Hammer. Meanwhile, although Critical Thot is Sha Ray’s official debut album, her reputation as a next-wave talent precedes her. Haram got wise in 2022 when she saw Sha Ray perform at a show in Brooklyn. “We spoke at the venue and after that I followed her on social media. She gave an incredible performance, so later on when she slid in my DMs asking for beats, I was already on board,” Haram explains. An Armand Hammer/DJ Haram show in LA was the nexus for these connections to yield fruit. Sha Ray flew down from the Bay to link with Haram, and although the two didn’t end up recording anything that day, it was the springboard for the cross-country collaboration that culminated in Critical Thot. The whole album was made remotely: Haram cooking up beats in Brooklyn and sending them to Sha Ray, who would send back demos and notes. They got to know each other as artists, and as people, while they worked on this project. “Haram and I have had so many overlapping experiences working as women in the music industry, which really enriched our bond. That, and her very striking approach to production, really inspired a lot of the writing on this record,” Sha Ray says. That writing is razor sharp and refreshingly direct. Sha Ray quickly proves herself to be in a class of her own, navigating even the knottiest of DJ Haram productions without taking her foot off the gas. Haram digs deep into her bag with beats that run the gamut from experimental and abrasive to slinky fun to darkly foreboding. Percussive thuds and shots are layered with intricate details and soft linings. A trappy banger dissolves into a flood of strings. A sparse industrial soundscape slowly coheres into a cacophonous uppercut of a rap record. Sha Ray bobs and weaves her way through every drum break and synth with a defiant ease. “As a rapper I’m pretty exclusively interested in interrogating misogyny and sexuality in my work. Critical Thot is a deliberation on unapologetic feminine authority, while being very honest about the complicated truth of being a participant in self-objectification, and sexuality as a social currency,” Sha Ray elaborates. “This record focuses a lot on defining power in feminine sexuality as relational and ever-shifting, and thus inherently imperfect. However, it is a power that I have and I am going to use it.” Critical Thot features contributions from Nappy Nina, JWords, and Archangel.