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Lab Waste, "Zwarte Achtegrond"
Lab Waste, the nom de collaboration of Los Angeleans Thavius Beck andSubtitle, have mated the rap set with the digital age on their oddlytitled full length debut, Zwarte Achtegrond("Black Background" in Dutch). Appropriately modern, to make theirmusic they eschew two turntables and a microphone for two Apple G3s anda veritable shopping list of samplers, mixers and gadgets that would bethe drooling envy of any A/V club.Temporary Whatever
The resultant electronic influenceis so heavy that the instrumentation is barely categorizable as "hiphop"—rapid fire hi hats slogging through dense but pedestrian soundslast heard on the Doom soundtrack alternating with somethingKraftwerk might have done on the Euro club scene had they worked 30years later (maybe the title is relevant, or deliberatelymisconceiving?). The lyrics are at their core well done. Intelligentenough, as complex couplets ("to the detriment of many a derelict/ wecome to inject a bit of intellectual impulse/ set to a beat to offsetthe inimical complaints of the ignorant"), and cerebral syllogisms flyby the ears at a frenetic pace. Being bombarded by heavily distortedvoices waxing futuristic over the fate of humanity provies a bit ofironic relief too. But the combination of heavy effects and light-speedpace make the lyrics, a key component of any rap record, all butindecipherable. The instrumentation makes Zwarte Achtegrond toogratingly artificial for a hip hop aficionado, and the dizzinglydifficult rapping will distract all but the most dedicated electronichead, potentially alienating both sides of the would-be crossover. Theformula clicks just once, with "Get the Signal," a fast paced energeticthumper most notable for its simplicity. On the whole Lab Waste seemsto have forgotten an essential ingredient in any hip-hop album,unforgivable if they do portend to have a "Zwarte Achtegrond":there's no soul. Put together with double clicks, and without a singleturntable, the album lacks nearly all vestiges of human involvement, avital element of the hip hop aesthetic. The feel is cold anddisconnected, which is probably the point. As a bleak concept albumbemoaning the future, then, Zwarte Achtegrond might succeed onsome level, but it's not enough to save it from being a tedious genreexperiment, mired in confused mediocrity.
The resultant electronic influenceis so heavy that the instrumentation is barely categorizable as "hiphop"—rapid fire hi hats slogging through dense but pedestrian soundslast heard on the Doom soundtrack alternating with somethingKraftwerk might have done on the Euro club scene had they worked 30years later (maybe the title is relevant, or deliberatelymisconceiving?). The lyrics are at their core well done. Intelligentenough, as complex couplets ("to the detriment of many a derelict/ wecome to inject a bit of intellectual impulse/ set to a beat to offsetthe inimical complaints of the ignorant"), and cerebral syllogisms flyby the ears at a frenetic pace. Being bombarded by heavily distortedvoices waxing futuristic over the fate of humanity provies a bit ofironic relief too. But the combination of heavy effects and light-speedpace make the lyrics, a key component of any rap record, all butindecipherable. The instrumentation makes Zwarte Achtegrond toogratingly artificial for a hip hop aficionado, and the dizzinglydifficult rapping will distract all but the most dedicated electronichead, potentially alienating both sides of the would-be crossover. Theformula clicks just once, with "Get the Signal," a fast paced energeticthumper most notable for its simplicity. On the whole Lab Waste seemsto have forgotten an essential ingredient in any hip-hop album,unforgivable if they do portend to have a "Zwarte Achtegrond":there's no soul. Put together with double clicks, and without a singleturntable, the album lacks nearly all vestiges of human involvement, avital element of the hip hop aesthetic. The feel is cold anddisconnected, which is probably the point. As a bleak concept albumbemoaning the future, then, Zwarte Achtegrond might succeed onsome level, but it's not enough to save it from being a tedious genreexperiment, mired in confused mediocrity. samples:
