Record Review

Published 05.25.05
Quasimoto stitches together thin strings of '60s psych, '80s electro, back-masked Bollywood and cheap porn music atop a classic hip-hop backdrop of booming breaks and groove-riding bass. He's a bright-orange space invader who twists helium-inflected, pitch-shifted raps about big-breasted ho's, Andy Gibbs and Raman Noodles between snippets of vintage blaxploitation dialogue. He's a schizoid puppet master: One hand grasps a blunt and the other hovers somewhere just above the eject button. What is this shit? It's one of the most brilliant albums of the year, for those keeping count.

Quasimoto is yet another persona to emerge from the infinitely atomized mind of underground hip-hop producer Madlib. Like Madlib's previous albums - 2000's The Unseen and last year's celebrated Madvillainy - Lord Quas is the antithesis of pop music, which privileges preset structure and pin-point refinement. The tracks on Lord Quas are tossed together in 15-minute, 303-looped fever fits. And after an initial listen, the album sounds sonically disjointed and lyrically underdeveloped. But subsequent passes reveal an underlying logic, a skewered sense of cohesion that rests on certain structural motifs: Musical trap doors interrupt beams of deep grooves that condition the listener to expect the unexpected. Lyrics seem nonsensical, but when taken as a whole and supplemented by reoccurring vocal samples of Melvin Van Peebles, they suggest a central narrative that approximates Shaft as scripted by Japanese pomo novelist Haruki Murakami.

Make no mistake: This is an album, not a collection of singles, and should be experienced as such. But with a little patience and a whole lot of hydro, Madlib's universe is among the most nuanced and rewarding in all of hip-hop.

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