MH-214 AWOL One & Daddy Kev - Slanguage AWOL One & Daddy Kev are back together to follow up the underground hits, Souldoubt and Number 3 On The Phone with Slanguage: hip-hop's take on free jazz. Daddy Kev has crafted a fifty-minute soundscape using minor-keyed pianos, brushed drums, stand-up bass, and jazz guitars over methodically programmed beats and the virtuoso turntable manipulation of D-Styles. AWOL One's lyrics are genius in their simplicity, yet hide double meanings and depth, and his voice remains one of the most recognizable in the business. Movements interweave without constraint, tracks start, stop, then start again, and the line between full vocal track, instrumental, and interlude is blurred beyond recognition.

Tracklist 01. Ear Drums For Beer Runs At AA 02. Start Your Road Trip Now 03. My Father Is Time, My Mother Is Nature 04. Six Black Roses Are Sent To Your House 05. Audio Bibles Are Written On Stone Tablet Tables 06. Finger Paint With Bloodlike War Paint 07. That One Song You Play When You're Faded 08. Mechanical Angel In Purgatory 09. Reflections For Scratching Your Face Off 10. Grey Skys In Pscho-Delic RGB 11. Idiot Savant Autistic Delivery 12. Bootleg Monster Movies 13. Montgomery Burns' Quest For Power 14. Bladder Sweat A.K.A. Colon Soup Rockin' The Mic 15. My Favorite Weapon Selection 16. High School Love Story Drop Out Song 17. Psychos Vs. Suckers Are The Branch Davidians 18. Buyin' Friends On Ebay 19. Slowly Means God Is My Witness 20. A Trainwreck In The Netherworlds 21. The Rules Of The Week 22. Turn Your Lights Off Conspiracy

Release Details Release Date: 03/18/2003   Running Time: 59:06   2XLP/Out Of Print CD/Out Of Print Territory: World

Reviews

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The new Slanguage album from Awol One and Daddy Kev is a journey into the outer reaches of hip-hop, an album so musically and verbally abstract, it's far beyond anything the underground could lay claim to. That Awol is a white guy from LA means that he's that much more of a hip-hop anomaly, as he's dishing out tracks that are far too freaked for even the guys at Anticon. Expect dense, noodly turntable work. Expect out-there found-sound experiments posing as backing tracks. Expect lyrics - "It's like a rat chewin' on it's own ass" - that go nowhere. Expect to be amazed. - Orlando Weekly