Decrying hip hop's more self-obsessed, corporate, "bitches n' bling" oriented side has become somewhat of an expected formality in the discussion of any Anticon release. Such is the "thinking man's rap" reputation the San Francisco based label has established for itself amongst the more discerning part of the record buying public that it's often held aloft as the antithesis of all that is wrong with hip hop. Unfortunately for the label, such comments add weight to their no doubt already heavy shoulders, and as a result each new record they drop seems like a struggle to retain their position at the vanguard of the intelligent rap movement. And as de facto leader of Anticon (it's a collective, remember) Sole is sure to feel the pressure most.
Judging by this, his third solo album, Sole has little to worry about. Over an expansive 17 tracks he manages to surf across a sea of discorded beats, ranging from classic 80's scratches to tinkly piano samples to almost-improv jazz style drumming, more akin to Jackie O Motherfucker than anything coming out of Roc-A-Fella Records. "On Martyrdom" samples what is possibly the soundtrack to a long lost Nintendo game breaking into a more dance friendly thumping beat, while the closing track "Drive by Detoumment" has a sound not unlike Slick Rick's classic "Teenage Story." Even when the musical accompaniment takes a more rock bend ("Dumb this Down") or throws unexpected samples into the mix ("Glory, Glory Hallelujah" on "Manifesto 232") Sole's vocals manage to ride across it all largely effortlessly, since the words always retain the prime focus of the record.
His long, lyrical purges are nothing if not dense in ideas. This mostly works in his favour, but can occasionally lead to the message being lost in a torrent of words. The opening track "Cheap Entertainment" goes from critiquing the growing class divide in the world to making jokes about the way he himself is perceived by the hip hop world: "Some say I've got a bad rep, but my mouth seems to perfectly fit the shoe." When Sole gets into his stride, he seems unstoppable and the message is worth keeping up with him for. "Theme" offers a minimal beat, over which he delivers some of his most direct critiques of present day American society while pointing towards future Orwellian nightmares; "Millions die by oil while alternatives are known, mothers learn to argue with their daughters on Jenny Jones' The news says stay scared, old women stay home/ little girls get birth control pills, boys get GI Joes/ It's effeminate to be sensitive so we strive to be Capone/ As long as you go to Heaven, It's OK to be a drone." Despite the occasional predictability in the rhyming pattern it's effective when combined with his stalking, methodical, and sincere delivery.
Insular and dark in feel, the bunker mentality created on this album (much like Fear of a Black Planet before it) provides for an interesting and consuming listen. Though the rap world may be too busy watching the verbal bitch slapping between 50 Cent and The Game to take much notice of Live from Rome, it demands to be heard. Hopefully its creator isn't too engrossed in reading Aldous Huxley to promote it to the extent it deserves.
