Wyclef may have tried to make history as the first rapper to rule an actual sovereign nation, but hip-hop heads ride for Bun B en masse, so this jam's an honor as an idea even if Cole's autopilot execution isn't anything to drunk-text home about. Halfway through, the host clams up and lets the woozy, jazzy beat ride out, prime real estate for Bun to develop, bar by sturdy bar, on the totally inevitable all-star remix.
Dropping their best two records in eons in a single 12-month stretch—Quarterstice and the newer Move of Ten—these reclusive glitch-tone Brits are on a mean streak. "y7" boinks and sizzles like some kind of nightmarish, amoeba-qua-pinball machine; there's a warped, elastic momentum here that's oddly reassuring, even as it leads absolutely nowhere.
Don't bite the hand that feeds you, and all that, right? But deference and contempt aren't necessary exclusive, most messages are mixed, and "Memo" is as much of a conflicted mess as its title implies—which is as it should be.
The first reader to identify what "Cooler"—which almost makes me nostalgic for middle school—shares in common with Nine Inch Nails' "Starfuckers, Inc" wins a No-Prize. Just don't ask me how Posner scammed his way onto the Warped Tour over the summer; I'm as flummoxed as you are.
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