Number 7 - The Money Store by Death Grips

Number 7: The Money Store by Death Grips

Breaking new musical ground

Release: April 20th, 2011
Genre: Experimental Hip-Hop
Favorite Tracks: Hacker, The Fever (Aye Aye), Punk Weight

 

Where I heard it: 

How often to you get to hear music of the likes you've never heard before? As my taste in music has vastly expanded throughout my adulthood, those instances are become more and more sparce by the day. It might be a conceited thought, but I feel as though I've heard just about everything that's out there. However, there's the rare example from time to time that comes along and reminds me that music is an ever-expanding paradigm that will always have something new on the horizon. Death Grips is one of the latest bands that's developed from unknown curiosities to full-blown obsession, and it all started in my garage during the spring of 2015. At the house I was living in during that time, my friends and I would often convene during off days from work and school into my garage for smoke sessions and musical show-and-tell from our own personal libraries. One day, my friend Chase was eager to introduce me to a band called Death Grips that he felt I'd really enjoy. I was played the 2011 single Guillotine, and initially I was on the fence about my opinions on Death Grips. I couldn't quite place a finger on the genre, as it was an intense and confusing mix of hip-hop and electronica that eluded my ears up to this point. As luck would have it, I already had tickets to the upcoming music festival Riot Fest, which featured a brief performance by Death Grips themselves. Reluctantly, I decided to attend their time slot with my friends as one of the opening groups we'd see that day, and I found myself fully immersed within the frantic mosh pit in the center of the crowd that raged along with the band. The set was maybe only thirty to forty-five minutes, but I was left thirsty for more after such an impassioned and somewhat mysterious performance. I still felt so far removed from the passionate community of Death Grips fans, and I desperately wanted to understand more about the deep lore of the group. I was recommended The Money Store as a starting point by more knowledgeable friends of mine, and it's about time I give credit to this album for how much it shattered my perspective on modern music, and really music as a whole.

Drilled a hole into my head
Pierced the bone and felt the breeze
Lift my thoughts out dem sick bed
With a pair of crow skeleton wings
Known nothing since then it seems
Been floating through the nexus threading dreams
~ Get Got

 

What to expect:

What do you get when you cross an MC, an EDM DJ, and a metal drummer? It's not a poorly crafted joke; it's the line up for one of the most revolutionary bands of the 21st century. One of several projects involving prolific percussionist Zach Hill, Andy Morrin and Stefan Burnett (better known by his stage name MC Ride) formed Death Grips in late 2010, wasting little time  before the release of their debut EP Exmilitary in early 2011. Despite their unique conglomerate of musical influences, Death Grips' collective creative direction is all the same: an aggressive sonic assault that utilizes its differences to its advantage. Each song shines a slightly brighter spotlight on individual performers, thereby immersing tracks with the stylistic tendencies of its given genre. The Money Store is a continuation of these ideals bound into a straight jacket, an eclectic hybrid of club bangers like Blackjack,  hood anthems like Bitch Please, and mainstream hits like I've Seen Footage. In comparison to Exmilitary, Death Grips dials back the intensity a tad on their first major release to present something a bit more palatable for general audiences. Make no mistake though; The Money Store is still an abrasive punch to the mouth, thanks largely to the ego-fueled charisma of its musicians. Most prominently, MC Ride is best representative of this trait as the group's vocalist, delivering his verses through ominous mumbles and furious howls that exhibit a reckless abandon of pitch. There's times in songs like Fuck That and The Fever (Aye Aye) where the mic's volume limit is exceeded, momentarily blowing out the mix. MC Ride's performances are guided through his frenzied mood swings, equating into rambling and often nonsensical verses that mask their contrived complexity. Meanwhile, Andy Morrin takes a more reserved approach to his expression, composing arrangements for Get Got and Punk Weight that crank up the bass and speed up the tempo for an exhilarating rush of adrenaline. Morrin's clever sample work is disguised through heavy modulation of cryptic references such as Arabic ringtones, an exercise from the California-based drum corps Blue Devils, and grunts from famous tennis player Serena Williams. With these obscure snippets, Morrin sews together the fragments into highly industrial beats that thoughtfully reimagine its source material. His layering is rounded out by Zach Hill, the driving force behind the mind-bending rhythmic structure of The Money Store. His strategy of balancing electronic drum patches with acoustic kit samples integrated into Morrin's mixing creates a dichotomy throughout the album that emphasizes the modern feel of new-age technology, or the harshness of a good old-fashioned cymbal crash. Hill is remarkably gifted with his talents, flaunting his advanced technical skills with impressive fills in songs like Double Helix that harken back to his math metal roots. Through its distorted filter, Hill's brand of berserk drumming transforms into a mesmerizing trance that perfectly accompanies the energetic elements of The Money Store. The stark contrast among the members of Death Grips cannot be understated, but this album manages to chart new territory with that polarity, even if done accidently. Although that genius is tough to acknowledge at face value, I believe The Money Store is as deliberate a product as you can find these days.

I got this pregnant snake
Stays surrounded by long hairs
A plethora of maniacs and spiral stairs
Make your water break in the Apple store
Sink or swim, who fucking cares
Cut the birth cords
Press send
Yeah, thick
Gaga can't handle this shit
~ Hacker

Why it's my favorite: 

I've always considered my musical preferences to lean toward the extreme; maybe even gruesome at times. There's an emotional response triggered within me when a song pumps me up that gets my blood flowing and my dopamine coursing. I think of it as aural relief, in which I can channel my anger and stress into a medium that translates those feelings. Between dubstep, metal, and gangsta rap, I had plenty of provocative material to mold my impressionable little brain leading into adulthood. The methods used in these genres to elicit that excitement vary, but it's just different means to the same end. When you blend those techniques together, the results are a disorienting fusion that border upon sensory overload as a listener. This procedure can be off-putting to many, but it rewards those that bravely choose to stay and listen with a one-of-a-kind experience that cannot and will not be replicated. Death Grips are more than just a curiosity for older generations to balk at in disappointment; they're retrospectively documenting the history of music that led up to the point of their existence. The Death Grips family tree is an astounding domino effect over time that eclipses a vast range of artists entirely unrelated in nature. They defy the image of the squeaky-clean radio darlings with bizarre, unhinged performances that come through on stage just as much as their recordings.  It's remarkable that anybody could conceive something of this caliber, and yet Death Grips continues to push the limits of their creativity with albums like The Powers That B and Bottomless Pit. Despite my deep love for a lot of the Death Grips catalog, I've always viewed The Money Store as the most complete and comprehensive album experience to listen to. This album is a refined masterpiece that symbolizes a leap forward for experimental music, cultivating a fanbase of rabid audiophiles that idly anticipate the next installment of insanity. To date, I've seen Death Grips three times, and every concert I attend seems to be bigger and better than the last. While their sound may not be your particular cup of tea, it's futile to deny the stranglehold Death Grips has had on popular culture in the last decade, and The Money Store is a huge part of that notoriety. While they may not be at the forefront of the industry, Death Grips has swung the door wide open for artists looking to adventure off into niche subgenres. Who knows what a band inspired by Death Grips could accomplish? Until then, we can only wonder...

Number 8 - Both Sides of the Brain by Del the Funky Homosapien

 Number 8: Both Sides of the Brain by Del the Funky Homosapien

Unlimited lyrical potential

Release: April 11th, 2000
Genre: Hip-Hop
Favorite Tracks: If You Must, Pet Peeves, Skull & Crossbones

 

Where I heard it: 

Who ever could have imagined that a game about skateboarding could influence someone's music tastes so strongly? Sadly, this is the last time I get to gush about Tony Hawk's Pro Skater, so it's only right that I pay a proper homage to the second-most influential video game franchise in shaping my music preferences (behind only Guitar Hero). Skate culture was hitting the mainstream at the turn of the millennium, injecting a rebellious aspect of counterculture into a society once appalled by these very creatures. Tony Hawk became a household name through his pioneering of the sport in X-Games appearances that held top billing on reputable networks like ESPN. I'm not sure how the concept of a video game came about, but it seemed like a natural progression when Tony Hawk's Pro Skater released to the masses. I didn't personally catch on until I acquired the third installment for my Gamecube in 2002, and I played the hell out of that disc. I determinedly set out to complete every goal in each level, abusing the cheat codes of the game to rack up the highest combos I could score. All the while, I was treated to an in-game soundtrack that perfectly aided the experience with a plethora of different genres. I heard some of my favorite artists of all-time like KRS-One, Iron Maiden, Aesop Rock, and even System of a Down for my first time because of this franchise. The only problem was that I was still a child, so none of it really resonated with me. However, even as a child, I gravitated toward one particular song off THPS3: If You Must by Del the Funky Homosapien. The song had a bouncy riff that caught my ear at an early age, punctuated by synth patches that really leapt out of my terrible TV speakers. Although I played this game significantly in my youth, it wouldn't be until 2015 that I revisited the soundtrack outside of gameplay due to nostalgic curiosity. I was interested in seeing if any of the songs held up to my tastes after repeatedly hearing praise for them from numerous sources. Quite a few selections I found to be even better then I remembered, which led me to checking out the albums each track resided on. I instantly remembered my love for If You Must during this process, and that reverence has only grown after taking a deeper look at Del. Both Sides of the Brain is easily my favorite rap album, and it doesn't take long to find out why that is.

Yo wassup this is D-E-L

Man, I was listening to these two cats on the street

They was talkin' about which MC was the livest, right?

This one cat was like, "Man, D-E-L, he's so tight, right?"

The other one was like, "D-E-L? He hella weak!
I'll never buy his shit!"

I was sittin' there amazed, like, "Man, I gotta hit the studio, man!
Come up with some new shit!"
~ Signature Slogans

What to expect:

Whether you know it or not, you've likely already been exposed to Del through his uncredited contributions with the Gorillaz on their hit song Clint Eastwood. His bars are no doubt the feature presentation, but it's criminal to base Del off of this performance alone. The accolades Del had notched under his belt to earn him this opportunity in the first place put him way further beyond any of the verses he lends to Clint Eastwood. Cousins with legendary west-coast rapper Ice Cube, Del produced his 1991 debut album I Wish My Brother George Was Here at just 19 years old with the assistance of his famous family. Although the album was well-received, Del was disappointed with the direction of the album, splitting off from Ice Cube's team to join the hip-hop collective Hieroglyphics. Many of its members accompanied Del on his follow-up record No Need for Alarm, while simultaneously participating in the creation of Hieroglyphics' first release 3rd Eye Vision. Del found himself committed to the studio in the latter half of the 90's, pursuing collaborations left and right such as Deltron 3030 that kept his imaginative verses coming. Both Sides of the Brain was dropped right in the middle of this period of activity, containing some of the strongest material Del has ever been a part of. Much like his cousin Ice Cube, Del utilizes playful rhyme schemes and witty songwriting to demonstrate his verbose lyrical content. However, Del contrasts the intimidating demeanor of Ice Cube's gangsta rap with a consciousness that reflects his aspirations to be a rapper and not a criminal. As a result, Both Sides of the Brain largely condemns rappers of this style as inferior novelty acts, dismissing their criticisms towards Del's mindset as feeble attempts to undermine his dedication to the art. Songs like Phoney Phranchise and Fake as Fuck aren't shy in the slightest about putting Del's foes on blast, even going as far as directly calling out Chuck D of Public Enemy in Pet Peeves for spreading inflammatory rumors to the tabloids. Del isn't looking to pick a fight without provocation; he's busy letting his bars do the talking for him. Del's rapping is comprehensive in ways I haven't heard from any other artist. His tantalizing lexicon fluently constructs rambling rhetoric that emulates the improvisational skills of freestyle rappers. While his vocabulary is certainly extensive, the narrative structure of every verse is tightly strung together with a conversational pace that feels completely natural in practice. Similarly, the mixing of the album is orchestrated as such to seamlessly transition from one song to the next. This method gives Both Sides of the Brain a satisfying thoroughness that encourages the listener to stay tuned for the next spectacle. It also allows Del to expand upon a particularly catchy beat to ensure its inclusion isn't thrown away so easily. The symbiotic relationship between artist and producer establishes palpable chemistry you can hear in the clean flow swaps within Pet Peeves and Signature Slogans, each component of the music vying for supremacy. Together, Del's team competes among themselves to make Both Sides of the Brain as enjoyable as possible, a feat I believe they attained with plenty of effort to spare.

 Check the rearview mirror, the coast is clear
Tryin' to focus here but I can't
Drunk as hell
Bust a rail
Now I'm sailin' off the cliff
High off a spliff plus a fifth
I bust my shit
Now I'm rollin' down the side like a suicide
What will my family do if I die?
~ Skull & Crossbones

 

Why it's my favorite:  

I've only been listening to hip-hop for the better part of a decade, but that duration was long enough for me to know what my tastes in hip-hop gravitate toward: musically challenging, high energy bops with an aura of sophistication to their composition. Albums from artists like MF Doom and KRS-One exhibit these traits to a tee, but they still don't manage to touch Both Sides of the Brain in terms of favorability. Part of that I feel is attributed to Del's laymen songwriting approach to Both Sides of the Brain. Without the reliance of common hip-hop tropes involving sex, money, and violence, Del's raps have broader sources of inspiration that listeners can relate to closer than some of the genre's more exuberant examples. BM's recounts a celebratory trip to Amsterdam after completing a year of drug probation, and Proto Culture flexes Del's close affiliation with the innovative medium of gaming at the turn of the millennium. Both Sides of the Brain can be tongue-in-cheek just as well, with songs like Soopa Feen and If You Must hyperbolizing stereotypes of transient and unhygienic people to form fictional anti-hero type characters that are charmingly lovable, but social nuisances nonetheless. When Del isn't reminiscing upon the simple pleasures of life, he's cementing his legacy as one of rap's great wordsmiths. Although his popularity seldom crossed over into the mainstream, Del is humble enough to embrace his underground label, while simultaneously possessing a cockiness that leaves no doubt in his mind that he's one of the best MCs to ever rock the mic. I've gotta say, I don't have a lot of evidence against him to disagree. Across his entire repertoire, Del has diligently crafted some of the most fun bars I have ever had the pleasure of listening to. I think that's a large part of what modern hip-hop fails to acknowledge in regards to the success of the classics: there was so much room for fun. Del never takes himself so seriously that it damages his ego; he's just gonna do his thing, critics be damned. I wish Del had a greater presence in hip-hop than he does currently, but the fact he is so publicly revered solely off one performance is a testament to the potential Del had to be the next sensation in rap, had he chose that path for himself. Instead, Del's love for the music helped bring forth albums like Both Sides of the Brain that have forever set the precedent for hip-hop groups going forward.

Number 9 - The Great Southern Trendkill by Pantera

 Number 9: The Great Southern Trendkill by Pantera

A Texas-sized thrashing

Release: May 7th, 1996
Genre: Groove Metal
Favorite Tracks: Drag the Waters, The Great Southern Trendkill, Suicide Note, Pt. 2

 

Where I heard it: 

Starting with Metallica in 2008, I've had an overwhelming influx of new metal bands and subgenres to dive into throughout my life. I feel like metal has always been a genre I've had encompassing knowledge on, a natural progression after exhausting the fair majority of the classic rock catalog. In fact, metal has consistently maintained playtime in my listening rotation; it might even be my favorite genre. I've heard the heaviest of its offerings - Cannibal Corpse, Whitechapel, Meshuggah, Carbomb - and yet there's one band I find myself coming back to for a surge of adrenaline no others can provide: Pantera. They're a band I didn't really get into until after high school, but I've always been aware of their existence going back to my origins with metal. As a kid, I spent a lot of time listening to the radio for my musical consumption, and my preferred station was the hard rock haven of southern Colorado's 94.3 KILO. My budding knowledge of metal was nurtured into a full-blown lexicon here, introducing me to Pantera staples like Walk and Cowboys From Hell. For some reason, Pantera never found their way onto my radar until much later, after I'd discovered an astounding assortment of metal groups I adored. The Great Southern Trendkill was available to play in its entirety (sans Suicide Note, Pt. 1) as DLC on Rock Band 4, a modern rebirth for the franchise that I played religiously for years after release in 2015. I was living with my friend Paul in late 2017 when we acquired The Great Southern Trendkill and began chasing the leaderboards, myself on guitar and Paul on drums. We emulated two legends on their respective instruments: Dimebag Darrell and Vinnie Paul. Pantera began to grow on me as we played through the ten available songs from The Great Southern Trendkill, leading me to buy the vinyls for Vulgar Display of Power and Cowboys From Hell. I was officially diagnosed with headbanger's disease, constantly spinning these two albums in my room and rocking out to some of the finest metal tracks ever conceived. However, I never lost that association with The Great Southern Trendkill. When it came time to compile my top 100 albums, it turns out I still haven't gotten over how good this album is.

All the money in the fucking world
Couldn't buy me a second of trust
Or one ounce of faith in anything you're about
Fuck you all
Nothing is worth the sleep that I've lost
Apologies unacceptable now
A blistered revenge awaits in me
This is fucking loveless
~ War Nerve 

 

What to expect: 

Pantera has experienced one of the most unbelievable career turnarounds of any band, initially beginning their recording tenure in the early 80's as a glam rock band. They chose to pursue a heavier sound after the departure of original vocalist Terry Glaze in 1986, leading to the recruitment of Phil Anselmo, a grittier vocalist with high vocal range to boot. The band earned a recording contract while on a demanding tour schedule, and suddenly found themselves in the spotlight on the main stage. They knew this opportunity couldn't go to waste, dropping a bombshell with 1990's Cowboys From Hell. Pantera delivers an absolutely unhinged performance that's a far cry from their glam roots, cranking the amplifiers to maximum volume and eviscerating tracks to a pulp with an explosive fury that leaves listeners paralyzed in its wake of destruction. "Dimebag" Darell Abbott put himself on the map with furious fretwork that rivaled all-time greats like Eddie Van Halen. Phil Anselmo ditches any semblance of melody for an aggressive growl which bellows through the speakers with every roar. Pantera were the biggest sensation in metal throughout the 90's with mainstream hits like Vulgar Display of Power and Far Beyond Driven, but the demand took a toll on the band's spirited frontman. Anselmo dealt with chronic back pain caused by years of erratic behavior on stage, but when surgery was ruled out as an option due to his unrelenting work ethic, he turned to sedatives like heroin to keep the machine running. This decision brewed tension among Anselmo and the Abbott brothers, which reached a boiling point during the early stages of The Great Southern Trendkill, resulting in separate recording sessions between Anselmo in New Orleans and the rest of the band in their native Texas. Although Pantera did not see eye-to-eye personally, their vision for The Great Southern Trendkill was crystal clear in its development. The album features its heaviest material yet for Pantera, executed through Anselmo's vehement vocal style. Driven by the mania of his addiction and his wrath toward the outside world, the themes of songs like War Nerve and Suicide Note carry a menacing nihilism that holds potent discontent for life. Anselmo's wretched screams in the title track are completely convincing in translating the mental anguish he suffers in this moment. This demonic display is further propagated by the punishing chords and wailing solos of Dimebag Darrell, a savant of riff-writing that is sure to melt your face off in any scenario. His symphonic strategy of rhythmic pacing puts on a metal masterclass for his predecessors to study. Whether the tempo is trudging in 10's or blistering in Suicide Note, Pt. 2, Dimebag has a hook that is sure to keep your head bobbing in speechless amazement. His brother Vinnie has similarly been bit by the musical bug, commanding the attention with booming double bass and crashing cymbals that triumphantly march through sections of The Underground in America and 13 Steps to Nowhere. The weight of the group's collective force is crushing, building to each climax until it collapses in epic fashion. Pantera has always made its money on tight unison breakdowns, but those moments in The Great Southern Trendkill seem to leave a larger crater upon impact. Often overlooked in their discography, this album has left an indelible impression on me that I simply can't pass over.

 Why would you help anyone who doesn't want it
Doesn't need it, doesn't want your shit advice
When a mind's made up to go ahead and die?
What's done is done, so why cry?
Tortured history, addict of misery, this exposes me
For weakness is a magnet
Watch me do it
Don't you try to die like me
It's livid and it's lies
And makes graves descending down
~ Suicide Note, Pt. 2

 

Why it's my favorite: 

Music has the remarkable capability to influence our moods just by listening to it. Personally, music helps evoke a wide range of emotion based on my feelings at any given time. I have playlists I listen to when I'm particularly chipper, songs I turn to in moments of weakness, and certainly an array of bands to take my aggression out during drives home from stressful days at work. I wouldn't consider myself short-tempered, but I'm no stranger to anger. Life can be tough sometimes, and I tend to hold a resentful attitude toward those tribulations. My most reliable outlet comes through the form of music, blasting some of the most abhorrent things over my speakers to relieve some of that internal angst. My seething never seems to last long after I've stewed over it for an hour or two. The Great Southern Trendkill has been a go-to for a while when I think about albums that embody blind rage. There's two components for me that give the album that reputation, the first being the magnificence of Dimebag Darrell. I've repeatedly told friends when discussing Pantera that Dimebag took all of the good riffs in metal and horded them all to himself. His catchy compositions are the backbone of the album, laying blow after blow with sludgy breakdowns and impervious solos that obliterate your mind. The second piece is exceedingly grimmer: Phil Anselmo's descent into extreme drug abuse played an imperative part in making The Great Southern Trendkill so brooding. The subject matter of the album comes from such a dark place within the catacombs of Anselmo's brain. Pantera's content can be pretty sinister as it is, but songs like War Nerve and Suicide Note, Pt. 2 are downright demented in nature. Anselmo's tortuous, blood-curdling shouts are only made possible through excessive heroin use, producing a horrific gurgling that appears toward the end of extended screams. I liken this performance to a method actor, fully immersed in their role in order to enhance their effectiveness. I'm no advocate for hard drugs, but that is just...the most goddamn metal thing I've ever heard. Conversely, Anselmo exhibits impressive control of his lower register in ballads like Suicide Note, Pt. 1 and Floods, his resonant bass tones echoing throughout. The Great Southern Trendkill represents the shortcomings of humanity's sin, a scar that symbolizes the path that led to its creation. Pantera's entire discography is full of incredible music, but there's something truly evil about this album. Who am I to deny that inner wickedry that resides deep within me? The Great Southern Trendkill allows me to acknowledge that feeling when it arises, and helps me realize that these emotions are only temporary. Much like the legacy of Pantera, nothing lasts forever.

Number 10 - Mir by Ott

 Number 10: Mir by Ott

Feel the vibrations

Release: March 15th, 2011
Genre: Psydub
Favorite Tracks: The Aubergine of the Sun, Adrift In Hilbert Space, One Day I Wish To Have This Kind Of Time

 

Where I heard it: 

What a beautiful platform music provides to share the bands we love most with the communities we hold dearest. I've discovered a few of my favorite bands of all-time purely based off the recommendation of friends. The majority of those friendships were forged during my involvement in my school's marching band program, where I spent countless hours rehearsing and competing on fields all across the state. As a drummer, it meant I was thrown into the fray alongside an eccentric cast of characters and expected to establish team synergy. Although our backgrounds were significantly different, we bonded together as each year passed and more memories were made. One of those who was often associated with those memories is my friend Mikey, a confident and ego-fueled kid that became one of the first people I was ever friends with in high school. Despite our contrasting personalities, we were practically attached at the hip over the course of our four years in high school. Not only did we see each other five days a week at school, we were spending just about every free weekend we had to engage in a bit of harmless teenage debauchery like trespassing and lighting off fireworks. Ah, kids...anyways, I believe it was around winter of 2011 when Mikey got his driver's license, so understandably we were bumping tunes over the stereo any time we traveled to our next destination. We were driving around one night when Mikey implored me to listen to a song he liked, which I had no choice as the passenger but to accept. Mikey switched on Jack's Cheese and Bread Snack by a little-known DJ named Ott, and the nearly thirteen minute epic blew my mind. It sounded futuristic and cutting-edge, completely foreign to my ears. I had only recently acquired a taste for electronic music in dubstep about a year prior, so my awareness of the genre's scope was incredibly limited. If this what Ott brought to the table, I was hungry for more. It wasn't long after that Mikey showed me selections from Ott's newest album Mir, some of the most beautiful pieces of music I've ever heard to this day. I've since familiarized myself with the entirety of Ott's work, but I just can't shake the chills my nostalgia gives me for Mir. It's yet another album that is symbolic of an era of my life, twice over in fact.

Welcome
We think you'll like it here
It's not perfect
But it's really all we've got
Most people you'll find are usually quite nice
And for the time you're here
There's lots to see and do
And we'll be here to care for you
And help you find your way 
~ The Aubergine of the Sun

What to expect:

Certainly, Ott is one of the lesser-known acts among the highest ranking entries on this list. That isn't to say that his music hasn't resonated strongly with fans the world over. Ott's mystifying compositions have captivated international audiences since the debut of his solo record Blumenkraft in 2003, compiled with the expertise Ott fostered as a producer for artists like Brian Eno and Sinead O'Connor. Ott specializes in the sounds of psydub, a subgenre that merges the progressive elements of psychedelic music with the reggae-inspired electronic beats of dub. Each song roots its base with a groovy hook that gradually builds upon itself with multiple rhythmic layers of club-style bass and danceable riffs.  Along with other notable contributors like Shpongle, Ott assisted in pioneering and popularizing psydub throughout the 2000s, setting the standard with the release of 2008's Skylon. In comparison to its off-putting predecessor, Skylon emphasizes its tone of uplifting euphoria with songs written in major key, creating a more musically inviting atmosphere that takes influence from the rich culture of Eastern religion. By the time of Mir's development, Ott was a seasoned professional in utilizing these tactics to engineer a listening experience tailored exactly to his specifications. Although Mir's track lengths can appear daunting, each song is deliberate in is direction and calculated in its cadence, sure of itself long before any music has played. Once the journey begins, Mir is sure to delight with a collection of instrumental odysseys that augment their own realities within the boundaries of their runtimes. Ott guides you through his meticulous sound labyrinths like a musical sherpa, holding the listener's hand with repeated, underlying melodies that establish familiarity throughout more involved and complicated sections of Squirrel and Biscuits and Mouse Eating Cheese. However, the majority of the album's pacing is naturally inherent, leaving little to be explained during fantastic suites like One Day I Wish To Have This Kind Of Time and The Aubergine of the Sun. Even more abstract arrangements possess enough attention to detail to fully flesh themselves out, such as the ethereal soundscape of A Nice Little Place. While Mir remains mostly without lyrics, there are several instances of vocal inclusions such as tribal-type chants in Owl Stretching Time and soundbites from English philosopher Alan Watts to introduce the album. Ultimately, Ott's vision for Mir is realized through a conglomerate of his prolific and creative imagination. This album is invigorated by the impassioned compulsion for perfection Ott holds for his work, and the results of this mindset pay dividends in the form of emotional fulfillment.

Simply close your eyes
And allow your ears to hear all sounds around you

Don't try to name or identify these sounds

Just hear them as you would listen to music

As when you hear a flute or a guitar

Don't bother about what it means

Your brain will take care of that by itself

~ One Day I Wish To Have This Kind Of Time 

Why it's my favorite: 

The nefarious connotations behind psychedelia's etymology are no secret. The phrase alludes to mind-altering substances that expand our thought patterns and enlighten our perception of the world. Mir exhibits these qualities to a tee,  devising meditative pieces that encourage a heightened state of mind to amplify its hypnotic effects. I personally engaged in this ceremonial practice starting in the winter of 2012 when I began associating with Mary Jane. One Day I Wish To Have This Kind Of Time was often the soundtrack to my smoke session as my mind drifted away into absolute bliss. The song provoked thoughtful tangents of serenity, shrouding me in a blanket of comfort that ensured my ensuing high would be one for the ages. Like the dangerous gateway drug it is, cannabis eventually gave way to greater experimentation with psychedelics in my twenties, moving on to LSD and psylocibic mushrooms. It was then that my experience of Ott formulated to understanding, first playing Mir on a trip during early 2019 while sequestered in the darkness of my room. I was laying on the floor, staring wondrously at the ceiling as the music took hold of me and ran through my consciousness. I was suddenly transfixed by the subtle production methods I had once entirely overlooked, with intently disorienting warps and swells that intensified my hallucinations. What amounted to about an hour felt like a lifetime spent within the confines of Mir's mysterious materiality. I was a different person after listening to this album on psychedelics, and I can still feel that change to this day. Mir has inexplicably made me a kinder and empathetic person, and I can't help but feel that Ott knowingly implanted that subliminal message when creating the album. Ott caters to his audience in brilliant ways, constructing remarkable passages that display the genius of the artist at the helm. Mir is a product that transcends music and delivers prosperous gifts that are ripe for the taking, given the right mentality. He's one of my favorite artists to share with other music lovers, an eternal debt I have to pay for the happiness Ott has shined onto my life. A small price to pay, if I do say so myself.