cLOUDDEAD: S/T

Something about Doseone reminds me of Ian Anderson from Jethro Tull. This troubles me greatly. There's no good reason the highly inventive, abstract hip-hop poet from cLOUDDEAD should bring to mind a 1970s prog rocker who somehow manages to be simultaneously populist and pretentious, like Rush (the Limbaugh and the band). The comparison is very disconcerting--as if your brand-new baby sister reminded you of John Ashcroft. I can't quite put my finger on the Doseone-Ian Anderson similarities. I know it's definitely not the haircuts. Or the clothes.

Dose, fellow poet in residence Why?, and sound sculptor Odd Nosdam have the sense to temper all their abstraction with a massive dose of charm. Consider "I taught myself to survive/A four-story fall/Wearing a spacesuit/And a dead Englishman's socks/It's a textbook procedure, kid." A stanza like that is pretty much an epic in itself, especially when it's laid atop one of Nosdam's lush, lo-fi soundtracks, which can bring to mind everything from ambient-era Aphex Twin (or maybe Boards of Canada) to a more fully baked version of that Stereolab/Nurse With Wound collaboration that was released a few years back.

And realistically, cLOUDDEAD might very well appeal to fans of Stereolab or Nurse With Wound. Even the guys in Jethro Tull might like this record--an outcome that would fit nicely with Dose's stated mission: in a number of interviews, he's said that he's making "hip hop for grownups" and for his little sister. The album's got depth, complexity, and resonance to spare--all those things grownups are supposed to (and should) like. Little sisters, too.