Review Summary: Fresh new skin for the avatar, just plugged in to the boulevard
Trying to explain exactly what clipping. is to a casual rap enthusiast is a slackline I’ve found myself toppling off more times than I’d like to admit. The most accurate analogy I’ve come up with so far is that of station surfing on a dusty old analogue radio before happening upon a bizarre yet serendipitous sweet spot in between two frequencies. It catches the muffled beat of one transmission, the rollercoaster flow from another, with the sizzling circuitry providing some off-kilter accompaniment. Tighten the whole thing up and polish out
most of the static, et voila, it’s clipping. bitch. For five full-length records the trio have consistently pushed this loose template to its envelope-prodding limits, each release a waypoint in their career-spanning tonal arc that has been a joy to follow. The creatively sharp production has continued to evolve across each record, and
Dead Channel Sky is no exception in this regard. Granted, it does feel like something of a thematic departure from their most recent output, but it brandishes the inherited urgency and frenzy where necessary, channeling them into somewhat more pertinent, topical ideas. The switch from the horror leanings to the sci-fi tinged futurism do undeniably result in a less hard-hitting LP overall, but it is still thoroughly enjoyable, pulsing with veinfulls of that venomous immediacy that has always made clipping. such a compelling group.
A potent undercurrent of nostalgia flows just below the agitated surface of
Dead Channel Sky, presented through an array of recognisably retro chops and soundbytes. The sporadic modem beepboops of the album intro, ‘Go’ and ‘Code’ pay subtle homage to the dawn of the Information Age; the uncertain communicative seed that would later become the insidious omnipresence seen today. Similarly, prominent ‘90s influence is featured throughout, such as ‘Keep Pushing’’s ravey, elastic techno fluxes, ‘Mirror Shades’’ collagic minimalism, or the prominent Human Resource sample on ‘Dominator’. These choices imbue the album with a bittersweet timelessness, blending a form that nods to a different era with an unmistakably modern edge. This consistent sense of modernity is extremely striking given the context of the LP’s throwback influences and retrofuturist atmospherics. The evocative idea of a ‘dead channel’ feels very appropriate to this mixture, as in basic information terms it can signify the ending of one era and the rise of another, albeit in this case extrapolated to the scale of something that encompasses all of humanity, like, say, the sky. It’s almost impossible to not feel the poignancy and pathos within these explored ideas, and the electronic nightmare of choppy soundbytes, frazzled effects and rapid-fire flows ensures that these personal touchstones are positively rife with volatility.
With more accessibility comes a more digestible experience, and many of the themes at play here do feel like gas station pruno in comparison to the full-bodied dystopian horrors and social issues of
TEAATB and
VOBBB.
Dead Channel Sky is generally more speculative in its outlook, tackling themes like technological influence, capitalist infrastructure and musical revolution, but shades many of its ideas with a lighter, even cartoonish charcoal edge. Thankfully, just because the focus feels a little blunted by inevitable comparisons to its older siblings does not mean the quality of the lyricism has been sanded down. Indeed, despite a few momentary lapses into complacency, the standard overall is, as ever, remarkably consistent. Tracks like ‘Ask What Happened’- with its unflinching indictment of a society on the brink- stand shoulder to shoulder with some of the group’s most powerful feats of storytelling, such as
Splendor and Misery’s ‘All Black’ or
Face’s ‘Block’. The piece balances a serious critique with an introspective, accessible tone, jabbing with a one-two of relevance and humanity that makes it one of the album’s standout moments. Whether the thematic shift between records is indicative of an advance for clipping. is very much down to the listener, but their decidedly more topical, expansive focus here deserves to be lauded nonetheless.
Dead Channel Sky is yet another fascinating entry from the LA trio that showcases their trademark pinball-whizzing-around-a-neon-labyrinth flows and creative production style, with their usual level of gut-punch aplomb. Whilst there are some tonal inconsistencies, the LP careening between earnestness and vitriol at a dizzying pace, this is an issue largely magnified by comparisons to the absurd consistency of their previous two releases. The serious, foreboding energy that coursed through those albums does dim the shine of
DCS’s endeavour, but as a standalone piece of work, it has a striking personality to accompany its creative mood. It’s grounded and far less menacing than either
Visions or
Addiction, but it’s very obviously cut from the same heavy cloth, and exemplifies this with its tight production and intriguingly compulsive sound. Though it may not match its forebears’ ambition or near-flawless execution, the speculative and nostalgic centrifuge spinning like a catherine wheel at the heart of the record assures listeners of the usual cutting insights, by way of brazen bars and some of the finest storytelling of the group’s career.
