Review Summary: Game on.
Appearances are deceptive when it comes to
FULLMETAL KAIJU. Yes, Kill Bill has some fun rocking playful beats with sporadic video game samples, funky loops, and abstract soundscapes. Yes, “False Swipe” is an entertaining bop that bops like a good hip-hop bop should bop, and the rapper decorates it with wink-and-nudge pop-culture references to give it an almost innocent feel. But in this same environment, “Let’s Bounce” slides into the scene with a glitchy, minimalistic foundation that sounds like a distorted melody, all the while our resident emcee, now sporting a morose droning quality to their voice, confesses he doesn’t know who the hell he is while cycling through various drugs. And in the same breath as he utters allusions to anime and Mega Man, Kill Bill contemplates the following in “Scales”:
“I often wonder what the reaper's like, a man or a woman?
If its hand will twist the knife or f*cking slam in my stomach
If it's heard my melodies, does it care when I'm humming?
Does it pick up our emotions when it's going through the motions?”
I'm afraid.”
Dennis Billy Nettles is a jack-of-all-trades. In his candid lyricism, continuously unafraid of exploring concepts of death, addiction, and depression with startling frankness, the emo-tinged despair of Kno is abound. It’s a trademark that has remained since his debut mixtape
Ramona blew up in the underground, with cliche phrases and evocative metaphors mingling haphazardly to form a beautifully unrestrained writing style. His occasionally esoteric beats and otherworldly aura invite comparisons to Aesop Rock, and his gravely monotone is a dead ringer for abstract hip-hop contemporaries a la Shahmen. Such a blend ensures a varied collection of tunes, yet each idea is handled carefully, creating an LP with an impressive amount of synergy between its grab-bag of influences.
There’s a consistent flow that ties disparate entries together within
FULLMETAL KAIJU, feeding off the fluctuating mood of the disc. The more playful first third of the release leans heavily into the video game theme adorning the cover, inserting sporadic dialog excerpts and game sounds, then weaving them into bombastic-yet-smooth beats that flow like a dream. Tracks a la “False Swipe” and “Wails” feature a sort of G-funk inspiration, thriving off of groovy basslines with horn or guitar loops adding color to the background. As Bill’s prose turns more introspective and despairing, the beats respond in kind; “Take It and Run” brings aggressive trap variables to the fray buttressed by a melancholic piano, introducing a somber vibe that evolves over the course of the hazy “Visions” and the bass-fronted, distorted interior of “ALL DUNGEONS NO DOORS.” It’s a compelling contrast from the LP’s carefree beginnings, artfully slinking into a malaise with a subtlety that prevents any jarring transitions. By the time the gloom-ridden prose of “Scales” arrives, the grand rug pull of the disc--shiny robots and power-up sounds slipping into a mounting depression--has been pulled off slyly enough to where it’s hard to notice the surroundings growing darker. Bill’s production and beat talents shine through here and remain a core part of his appeal, mesmerizing listeners with their dreamy tones and commendable variety.
Kill Bill’s pen game acts as the travel guide through these evolving environments. He’s transformed his wordplay into a fine-tuned weapon, trimming the awkwardness of earlier releases while retaining their self-deprecating, nerd-contemplates-mortality spirit. In multiple cases, especially when sporting his Shahmen-esque drone, Bill’s writing is what carries the effort; aforementioned highlight “Scales” is dominated by Nettles’ unbridled pain, and “SIMPLE” thrives off of its unclean, stripped-of-metaphors delivery. The emcee can toss out anything ranging from “What's the point of branching out if I can't keep my deepest roots in?” to “Death adders, nip at epiphanies late at night / A paper plane against a storm incidentally taking flight / I'm on that paper chase, I'm patiently waiting for rolling credits / I’m debted, I'm writing epitaphs on bricks below the exit” and pull it off seamlessly, depicting his lurking struggles in an abstract or confrontational manner. It’s a delicate balancing act to feature a vast array of concepts in a relatively short timespan, but Kill Bill manages to find the sweet spot, brandishing his alternating vocal styles, poetic lyrics, and robust production with confidence. Nothing feels rushed or underdeveloped about
FULLMETAL KAIJU; it’s a complete package, and its surprising depth undeniably goes beyond its glossy cover.
