How the hell did this come out on a major label? It's so fucking weird. Only traces of hip hop can be found here, lost between ambient, psych folk, coldwave, dancey bits, funky basslines, and tons of other genres ("Mystic Sheep Drinking Electric Tea" is Death Grips, but in 1992). This makes the album super interesting as each song has got a certain knack that differentiates it from the other tracks. Even the rapping itself is clustered throughout the record, making room for spoken poetry, yelling or chants. Consider this as a spoken word record. This is the dude's redemption, the story of a ghetto bad boy who found atonement in prison by converting to Islam. The record is full of religiousness, whether in the form of straight-up prayers or metaphysical considerations. Divine Styler wanted to save his soul. I hope he did. At least he was ahead of his time.
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