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El-P
I'll Sleep When You're Dead
Definitive Jux

By Eavvon O'Neal

It's more than obvious that the hip-hop industry is in a state of flux that will forever change the genre. It's not so much progress on the same groundwork, as it is evolution of the craft. Those on the peripheral notice the change, but are more distracted by the g-strings and blinding frost to really see where the change is truly emanating from. Currently, El-P's second studio album I'll Sleep When You're Deadspeaks more to this change than other critics may willingly admit.

In the mid to late ‘80s, the DJ's presence in hip-hop was disappearing, as producers and drum machines became more prevalent. The fruit of this change is El-P, a label owner, rapper and producer who now controls every facet of his releases. Add to this the tangible skill he can shop out to the other artists on his Definitive Jux label (or any others interested), and you have one good emcee, and a slate of albums with near flawless production with strong lyrics to kick naysayer's fronts out.

"Tasmanian Pain Coaster" essentially sets you up to kick your ass down. It prologues the album, alerting to a dual consciousness similar to the one that made Public Enemy so powerful. "This is the sound of what you don't know killing you" rings steadily in the chorus, as significant as a "for whom the bell tolls" call toward the problems that no one cares to signify. Its vehicle is a causal subway platform conversation between acquaintances, and empties into a basin of uncertainty. "Smithereens (Stop Cryin')"'s sirens skate on top of eerily dramatic and ghostly guitar buzz chords – it’s a sonic personification of frustration with an industry that has bastardized the "kids who just want a little more."

These first two tracks, with the added focus of "Run The Numbers" featuring Aesop Rock, are the voices of underground hip-hop's frustrated community speaking out against the embattled foe of corporate American and the monster that has a grip on like-minded artists. "Up All Night" adds fuel to thisalready smoking pier of awakening. It suggests that although this form of hip-hop is new to the closed grip of the music industry, it's been getting up on facts, and it’s far from naive. The volleying toms and ray-gun syths quicken the pulse and scream "impending change." "Habeas Corpses (Draconian Love)"employs the skills of label mate Cage, and showing a dual lyrical talent similar to Jay-Z & Memphis Bleek's "Coming of Age." Together, these tracks empathize a continuation of the concentration from his first album, Fantastic Damage.

I'll Sleep When You're Dead is a killer album to add to El-P's list of productions, not only for its message or its production, but for what it represents. Granted, its flaws rest in its lack of accessibility to mainstream booty shakers outside the realm of social commentary, but that has never been grounds to dismiss a record before.Overall, the record may not kill the industry giants that we're the reasoning for this album, but it will alert the the slumbering giants that could potentially quake the industry as we know it.

 


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