Aesop Rock has been at it for a very long time now. The New York native, who is known for his lyricism, which includes crazy rhyme schemes, abstract wordplay and an impressively large vocabulary, released his first record, Music For Earthworms, in 1997. Since 1997, as is natural with the passing of time, Aesop Rock's music has gone through many changes. Over the years he eventually traded the beautifully gloomy beats by Blockhead that were part of what made Labor Days such an intriguing, and generally extremely well received album (to this day the consensus seems to be that it is his "classic") for a relatively faster and harder hitting, albeit still at times quite dark, production style. The key in this change being, that with Skelethon (2012), Aesop, for the first time in his career, handled all of the production himself. Skelethon, one of the best records of its year, confirmed many fans suspicions (he had already produced a good number of beats on his earlier records) that Aes' skills behind the boards are not that far behind his on the microphone.
Despite his past forays into production (which can be found on records like Music For Earthworms, Appleseed and Bazooka Tooth), None Shall Pass serves as the perfect teaser to what Aesop Rock's style would eventually become. A great record in its own right, on None Shall Pass the familiar style of Blockhead is still present, but Aes himself contributes to the beats as well. Aes' production sounded a bit more raw in comparison to Blockhead's, often containing hard hitting drums ("Keep Of The Lawn", "Catacomb Kids"). On Skelethon Aesop took this approach to the next level, enlisting friends who play rock music to give the album a truly unique, heavy and organic vibe, with all of the songs on the record featuring live instrumentation. More than anything, The Impossible Kid feels like a natural step to take after Skelethon, as it also features Aes experimenting with live instrumentation in his production - and there is an extremely strong argument that this is his best record yet.
The Impossible Kid, unsurprisingly, is a lyrical masterclass. If there is one thing that you could say about Aes, whether or not you like the changes he has made production wise throughout his career, it is that he has never strayed from what originally drew fans to his work - his incredible lyricism. However, what has significantly changed here is how the concepts Aes conveys through his lyricism are delivered. Overall, The Impossible Kid is probably the most direct Aesop has been throughout an entire LP. Don't get me wrong, like all Aes albums, this is still a rapgenius user's wet dream - his trademark abstract and at times seemingly random metaphors and similes are still present. That said, the difference with The Impossible Kid and the rest of Aesop Rock's fine discography is that the average hip hop head, especially if they are a fan, will most likely grasp exactly what Aes is talking about on many of these songs much faster than in his previous work.
This directness comes from the fact that, perhaps more than any record he has penned before, The Impossible Kid is a very personal record. On many songs here, the listener finds Aesop rhyming about himself - it doesn't take more than one close listen to reveal that a good portion of this is about Aes' past. This is not to say that Aes hasn't released reflective and personal songs before, he has, but The Impossible Kid is relatively much more overt about it. Skelethon had songs on which Aes battled his personal demons ("Gopher Guts") and his mom's rule to not let him go outside until he ate his vegetables ("Grace"), but he has never written an album as blatantly about his life as The Impossible Kid.
As personal as this album is, those who have heard the singles shouldn't be surprised. Few songs in Aes' catalogue are as obviously personal as the second single "Blood Sandwich" - an ode to his younger and older brothers. The track starts off with him describing a funny situation at his younger brother's little league game over a drum-less instrumental ("See MILFs like apes on a monolithic bleacher, and are advocating war and peace in lieu of sport and leisure"). When the beat hits, Aes goes into a heartfelt chorus and then begins to describe his older brother's physical features and interests - interests that would lead to conflicts with their mom ("In a moment that would transcend anger to high art said, "This is something I am willing to die for!"). As great and easily relatable as this song is, the rest of the record is composed of songs which could also be called the "best" song of The Impossible Kid.
As personal as this album is, those who have heard the singles shouldn't be surprised. Few songs in Aes' catalogue are as obviously personal as the second single "Blood Sandwich" - an ode to his younger and older brothers. The track starts off with him describing a funny situation at his younger brother's little league game over a drum-less instrumental ("See MILFs like apes on a monolithic bleacher, and are advocating war and peace in lieu of sport and leisure"). When the beat hits, Aes goes into a heartfelt chorus and then begins to describe his older brother's physical features and interests - interests that would lead to conflicts with their mom ("In a moment that would transcend anger to high art said, "This is something I am willing to die for!"). As great and easily relatable as this song is, the rest of the record is composed of songs which could also be called the "best" song of The Impossible Kid.
This is an album filled with mostly hard hitting production. Many songs here feature fantastic drumming and great hooks that often have some nice scratching parts to them. Compared to Skelethon, this album definitely comes off as a bit more spacey. At times the record has tinges of psychedelia with its use of distorted keyboard playing - one song ("Supercell"), even opening with some dark organ playing before transitioning into a hard hitting beat anchored by a killer bass line. Aesop spends the majority of "Supercell" rhyming on his past with religion ("on dasher, half dead carolers/deck a hall, wreck a whole advent calendar"), while letting the track breathe during its great, world-less chorus. Surprisingly, the hook sounds eerily like the kind of space-rock psychedelia that could fit in on a Flaming Lips or Hawkwind record, but works perfectly in this hip hop context.
This record doesn't waste any time - within the first 30 seconds of the opener "Mystery Fish", the listener is blasted with fast paced scratches and a barrage of drums. The beauty of this track - besides Aes' clever lyricism - is how the beat evolves, with keys (second verse) and sinister sounding horns (first verse) being added into the mix as the song goes on. "Mystery Fish" lets the listener know as early as possible that the production is anything but static on The Impossible Kid. Although there are many examples of this throughout the record, "TUFF", which spends most of its time being a video-game-ish sounding headbanger - only to end with Aes rhyming over some great beat boxing, is the biggest in-song change. The video-game reminiscent beat aesthetic also returns through the rapid background notes of "Molecules", which would be fit for a final fantasy battle theme, and briefly during the first few seconds of the extremely introspective "Lazy Eye".
"Act natural, whatever that means for you" is Aesop Rock's message as he digs into his past and mental state throughout the impressive verses that make up "Lazy Eye". Aes covers his life journey from being a skater-kid, to being in the music industry ("before climbing douchebag mountain, I was skate or die") and sheds light on feelings that played a part in him moving from the city to a remote barn to record this record ("Maybe I should kinda sorta move to Mars/I'm feeling kinda done, too many moving parts"). Introspective tracks like this and "Shrunk" are arguably the most compelling moments of The Impossible Kid. On "Shrunk", Aesop has a conversation with his psychiatrist (shrink) and lyrically paints a clear picture of the difficulty of situations like this with lines such as "she said, 'You're being difficult'/I said, 'I'm being guarded/You're a quarter mil in debt, I get more guidance from my barber". The track also has one of the strongest and most poetic opening lines on this record:
My first name is a random set of numbers and letters and other alphanumerics that changes hourly forever
My last name, a thousand vowels fading down a sinkhole to a sussurus, couldn't just be John Doe or Bingo
My address, a made up language written out in living glyphs lifted from demonic literature and religious text
In many ways, these two songs show just how far Aesop has come since he entered the indie-rap game. "Shrunk" demonstrates how well he has learned to float between his abstract and direct forms of lyricism to immerse the listener in his ideas. On the other hand, "Lazy Eye", particularly the mid-song co-sign from one of his heroes, Chuck D of Public Enemy ("hey peace Aesop, man it's Chuck D, yo man, keep doing what you're doing man, keep rhyming through those walls"), shows that by not following the crowd - by "act[ing] natural" - he has earned respect and come to this successful point in his career. Throughout the 49 minutes of The Impossible Kid there is no filler. Whether Aes is rhyming about his cat ("Kirby") or questioning "If [he] died in my apartment like a rat in a cage/Would the neighbors smell the corpse before the cat ate [his] face?" ("Dorks"), it always makes a fascinating listen. It's only April, and Aesop's brand of hip hop is still an acquired taste, however, if you have enjoyed his music in the past, especially Skelethon, with The Impossible Kid it's hard to see a world in which Aes hasn't just released a record that will stand among the best of the year.
