cLOUDDEAD ‎– Ten

With its twisted chemistry and schizoid lyrics, cLOUDDEAD's TEN is remarkably set apart from any other hip-hop or 'underground hip-hop' music record. Calling this album a hip-hop album would be too simplifying anyway; TEN is beyond genres. It combines the past and the future of abstract hip-hop. Hip-hop interbreeds with electronic music in TEN. Whereas the debut album from 2001 lacked some consistency, the second album is continuous, uniform and homogeneous. The lyrical lunacy compensates for the musical uniformity. The first track 'Pop Song' is maybe the most obvious example for this. It strikes with bubblegum beats and hard-to-decipher lyrics. Lyrically, TEN is reminscent of William S. Burroughs ('The Velvet Ant') or J.G. Ballard ('Dead Dogs Two') or some other unnerving writers. TEN is as readable as listenable. It is poetry and neologism at the same time. Whatever it is, it is probably the best record of 2004, and the last of cLOUDDEAD, as it says on the album sleeves.

cLOUDDEAD’s second album, TEN, picks up where their debut left off with its dedication to abstract hip-hop rhythms and lyrics that kind of make sense, but really don’t. “Pop Song” is white suburban angst distilled into a rhythm that slips on as easily as a Carhartt trucker cap. They thrive on being unique and avoiding hip-hop clichés, and on tracks like “The Keen Teen Skip,” it’s something to admire. Have you ever heard a hip-hop dirge? “Rhymer’s Only Room” might be the first, then. Indeed, the vocals are meant to add another texture to already-dense sonic compositions. The nasal delivery and sing-song voices of Why? and Doseone perform a contrapuntal elegy on “Dead Dogs Two.” The melodies and near-catchiness of “Physics of a Unicycle” give way to twisted carnival ride. Fascinating and bizarre.