ERSATZ SPLINTER – SO IT GOES

As I sit here contemplating the fall of my immediate society due to the uncomplex nature of student loans, can we talk about something else? Of course, we can. We can begin with So It Goes, the third full-length release by Ersatz Splinter, that California emcee that can’t stop, won’t stop. While information on the reclusive rapper has been sporadic at best, it might just be the mystique surrounding him that draws listeners in.

For So It Goes, Ersatz Splinter has grabbed the proverbial bulls by the horns method, not only rhyming on the self-released album but also handling all the production surrounding it. He’s completely self-sustaining. Splinter moves across the album, tossing on several different skins, moving from pop-influenced to heavy electronic throbs, and back. It seems whichever mode he maneuvers through, he has a full grasp of. The airy “Nepotism” surrounds the track with a charming melody as Splinter rhymes across a hypnotic 4-note bassline and spacious backdrop. “Flow Tan Filoso Remix” grabs onto a head-nodding rhythm filled with bilingual rhythms at a wicked-tongued pace. He’s rhyming so quickly in both English and Spanish that it’s difficult to grab onto his words. But as he closes, I get it when he raps in Spanish, every day he’s putting in that work until he dies, is buried, and forgotten. The beat is heavier and mesmeric here and doesn’t let up, which is fine as it clears the way for pretty enticing things.

There are moments in So It Goes that are amusing and offer immediate gratification.  Take “Pack Leader” for instance, with a piano leading the way in a very Addams Family-friendly manner, with percussion moving in and out of the background. Splinter is clever with his wordplay when he rhymes, “From now on this is how I release frustration/bars way harder than algebraic equations.” I wonder when the last time someone used wording like this. I can’t help but think about the time Lil Wayne said, “Real G’s move in silence like lasagna.” But that playfulness continues, filling the airwaves with “Kirk Gibson” as game show-like horns blare across his canvas and sports make their way into his music…you know, Kirk Gibson.. Detroit? Dodgers? Anyway, in 30 seconds, he rips right through it, ending it with a sports announcer sample. This is probably the moment where it needs to be noted that there are several songs under the 2-minute mark, some even under a minute, but it doesn’t detract from the creativity or charm of the songs. “Thirty Five,” the album’s longest track, just one minute short of the 3-minute mark, is a bit different. Its melancholic feel embedded within the music itself is familiar, but I’m reminded this is an Ersatz Splinter joint where he puts his heart on display for all to see. It’s not quite self-effacing, but it’s definitely not self-deprecating. It’s perfect in every sense of the word.

Placement is everything, and the instrumental “Brief Intermission” lies smack dab in the middle of the release. Falling somewhere between jazz and possibly turntablism, horns sway and scratchy electronics lament. It’s a welcome break in between it all. The poppy “Sisyphean” is bouncy with its lyrics that seem to ring true within the sense of his song title. He may find himself dragging around from one thing to another, but the track is finite and solid. His beats are tightly wound yet loose, and his wording/phrasing matches it at every turn. When Ersatz Splinter moves to the 1-minute banger “He Don’t Miss,” you’ll want it to go on and on but it abruptly ends. More! You’ll want more because I want more.

Ok, this was unexpected but welcomed. So It Goes is fully thought out and realized, and there isn’t a misstep on the album. Yeah, Ersatz Splinter has created a beast of an album.

DEERHOOF – NOBLE AND GODLIKE IN RUIN

If anything could be said about San Francisco’s Deerhoof is that the group is anything but conventional. The US/Japanese 4-piece just released its 20th album, and in its history, its 31-year existence, Noble And Godlike In Ruin (Joyful Noise Recordings) continues to show the world the band is still finding new ways to reinvent itself. But it’s not actually reinvention, it’s the progression & growth of Deerhoof.

Aside from the core use of a drum-guitar-bass combination, the band works with a multitude of instruments, and there are moments when we’re not quite sure what any song will utilize. This alone might be the sole reason someone searches out Deerhoof. There’s a wicked twistedness surrounding “Sparrow Sparrow” which is skewed with pop inflections. Within it, the song seemingly moves in more than one direction, as guitars seem to move in different directions that don’t quite align with the rhythm. But this is the glory and mastery of Deerhoof; the band can transcend time signatures while still making it palatable. That’s only one track there. “Kingtoe” strikes a bit differently with what seems like a Latin rhythm surrounded by chaotic percussion and Matsuzaki sweet voice. Those dual guitars delivered by John Dieterich and Ed Rodriguez occasionally cross streams but remain separate and back again. The band slides in and out and never sits still.

But it’s the “Return of the Return of the Fire Trick Star” that’s pretty tricky and swings into Beefheartian movements as the occasional Funkadelicism moments arise. It’s all led by Matsuzaki’s voice, drilled together by her and Greg Saunier’s rhythm while guitars seemingly go crazy! It’s completely surreal. The band’s approach to music is a vast skyline; there’s nothing the band wouldn’t attempt, and it shows.  Deerhoof is capable of many things, and “A Body Of Mirrors” and “Disobedience” both showcase that in their own ways. The former lulls its way in while the latter forces itself onto us, but both songs share semblances of orchestral maneuvering. In the light, never in the dark. We can hear, we can see the band directing things from that musical point of view, as instruments collide with one another. There are multiple spaces Deerhoof lives within, and elements of free jazz always seem to make its way in, this time on “Who Do You Root For?” as guitars squeal, the rhythm stays fully intact, and Matsuzaki hallowing it out with anti-love lyricism. But as we discuss the spaces the band finds itself in, within the confines of “Under Rats,” the group makes room for Saul Williams on this collaborative effort. Williams lives in a variety of spaces himself, and the meeting of minds & music is justifiable and possibly one of the best bangers the group has ever been a part of. Williams’ prose always seems to find a way to embed itself deep within our psyches, meshed with the band’s ability to create a musical stew, well, that’s just the way it should be made. And then there’s “Immigrant Songs,” a 7-minute-long track that’s as perfectly pop as it could possibly get. Given, more than halfway through, the band members channel their innermost ghostly creative sparks, allowing the noise to flourish amongst the tattered pieces of the song that remains.

5 years, 10 years, 20 years, 30… it doesn’t matter. There’s always going to be room left somewhere for Deerhoof who shows us all with Noble And Godlike In Ruin that yes, they’ll continue to create exquisite acts of violence and pleasure within music. That’s not saying everyone should, but Deerhoof, they definitely should.

TOILET RATS – SYNTH REDUX VOL. 1

Sometimes differences are negligible, and while they may seem similar, there are differences. I’m reminded of sitcoms where some things seemed like a pale comparison of others, but the similarities still lingered around. This leads to Synth Redux Vol. 1 (Steadfast Records) by Minneapolis’ Toilet Rats, which is the moniker punk enthusiast Thomas Rehbein performs and records under.

Mind you, what’s compiled here on Synth Redux Vol. 1 is reworked tracks mostly made up of the band’s 2023 album IV, only this time through synth-punk goggles that accentuate the songs’ potential to maneuver themselves into a much more electronic variation. The songs are remixed to elevate the band’s obnoxious penchant for electro-punk antics within the pop explosiveness of each track. While that may sound like a back-handed compliment, no, it’s not. It’s obscenely over-the-top, but that only adds to the charm of the songs. “Blackbox Recorder” in its original state is a guitar-driven pop dream but in its booming synth identity, it hits harder and is seemingly more emotional. We can argue on the point, but you’d be wrong. It’s awash in electronics, and the differential vibe is obviously felt. Everything just feels so much bigger than the original, like with “Walk the Earth.” Rehbein’s apocalyptic tone aside, the punchy rhythm and fast-paced synth action come across like an ’80s zombie flick with 2020 speed. We’re all on the run here, and we can identify with it. Zombie fans anyway… yes, some of us can easily relate.

But you can find nostalgia in Toilet Rats’ “Brains” rework, and Rehbein’s vocals seem to fit better around the redux than the original, as those solemn keyboard notes accentuate it. It’s all in the extravagant delivery that allows it to be beautifully outrageous. There are moments that seem chaotic, never blown out of proportion, but when you find yourself surrounded by drum patterns that are explosive without being overbearing, like on the pop-induced “Mall Goth,” you’ll find this is the right place to be.

It’s weird how Synth Redux Vol. 1 draws you in, offering elements of the past with footsteps firmly planted in the present. This could be the appeal of Toilet Rats, who seem to be comfortable in taking up the challenge of presenting itself as something new and refreshing.

DIOS NEGASI + TONE FULTZ – IRON ANGELES

Many parts come together to form Voltron, a team of heroes who merge for one goal, and that’s to defeat the enemy. But sometimes a team doesn’t need so many moving parts, and less-is-more becomes something that’s even more realized. No, there isn’t a riddle that needs to be solved because if you catch those hands, you might be asking for something you’re really unable to handle.

Iron Angeles comes together in that way with Reagan Era Records’ Dios Negasi and producer Tone Fultz handling business on the new album. I probably need to preface this though by saying on this release, no fucks are actually given. No one cares if you try to cancel them for the phrases used. No one cares, and Dios & Tone, if you don’t like it, eh, fuck you. That’s the energy given here, and it’s a breath of fresh air. The duo delivers it straight out the gate with “Pipe Bomb ft. Halo The Lost Angel” where Dios first exclaims “Fuck your mother with a pipe bomb/we giving n****** shots  like a dive bar/put the work in yeah we grind hard/punch a rapper in his face like a time card…” Ok, he doesn’t care about your feelings, fuck your feelings here as his words are aimed at any detractors. All this off Tone’s thick & juicy rhythm with a timbre moving through dark alleyways. That beat is everything, and Halo jumps in might just walk a thin line of braggadocio without digging in too deep. The temperament has been set and sets the bar pretty high for the rest of the album. There’s a darkness that surrounds the album, and “What It Is Feat. Skrillz Dior” makes that clear as his metaphoric rhymes are wrapped around violence, self-respect, and control. Dios piggybacks on it, reflective of the haters that always have something to say. Tone Futlz’ sinister beat isn’t something that should be ignored either, offering the prerequisite backbone it requires; heavy, mist-thick, and trance-inducing.

By the time we visit “Roids featuring Halo The Lost Angel” you’re locked in, forced into the life. Dios has similes and metaphors around the hustle and the money made. Pockets are full, and no one gets in the way, getting rid of all roadblocks no matter what. The music comes across like the soundtrack to a 70s Blacksploitation flick with a drawn-out keyboard lingering around it. Paranoia sets in on “Weak Shit” as the walls come closing in with eyes all around on this bouncy joint while “Exhaust Manifolds” takes a different turn altogether. The track’s soulful backdrop fits Dios Negasi’s delivery and words, keeping the clip close, watching everyone around him, understanding who others are instinctively. The track seems dense without feeling claustrophobic.

That old school Boom Bap runs rampant around Iron Angeles, and it works to the benefit of the album. It’s consistent and engaging as Tone Fultz drops the beat and Dios Negasi hits us with that real gutter shit.