“All I hear is motherfuckers trying to make a comeback/With pop styles or fifty niggaz on a track,” exclaims Esham in “Mr. Negativity,” the twelfth track on his 24-track opus, Tongues. This Detroit acid-rapper certainly isn’t trying to make a comeback, mainly because he never went anywhere to come back from. Not like he cares: after eleven years, this iconoclastic horror-core antecedent is still releasing his darkly humorous splatter-raps over metal-influenced macabre shuffle beats.
Truly, Esham is a focused cryptkeeper these days (touring on Warped Tour, releasing albums by the equally out-there Kool Keith on his Overcore level), and subsequently, this album sounds like his most focused to date (Well, at least the most focused I’ve heard. I mean, who has time to listen to all 14-or-so of this dude’s records?).
When not lacing his tracks with flamenco guitar, updated Sabbath and Anthrax riffery, and practically living in the minor key; he’s starting beef with Eminem, smoking blunts in bible papers, and contemplating suicide. Certainly standard Esham fare, but with most tracks clocking in under three minutes, it schizophrenically switches ideas too quickly to notice.
In “Panic Attack,” he says “Paranoia, schizophrenia, all too familiar.” I’d agree wholeheartedly, but he goes on to say, “But bitch don’t get too close, I might kill ya!“
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