Danny Brown - Atrocity Exhibition

Since his 2010 debut ‘The Hybrid,’ Danny Brown has become something of an institution. Frequently acclaimed as one of rap’s most unique figures, his archetypal high velocity vocal delivery riding over some of the most simultaneously euphoric and abrasive instrumentals in the game has helped to carve his own inimitable niche in an ever more sterile musical spectrum.

In the build up to ‘Atrocity Exhibition’s’ release, an album nearly two years in the making, many listeners wondered if it could possibly surmount the sheer quality of the album’s celebrated predecessor, 2013’s ‘Old.’ The mystery shrouding the album was only furthered with his move to Warp Records, a label known far more for being the home of such experimental electronic acts as Aphex Twin and Mount Kimbie than to Brown’s unique brand of hip-hop. In the midst of this confusion, only two things were still certain: that this album would be as unpredictable as ever, and that whatever was released would continue the Detroit rapper’s pedigree of excellence. It will come as no surprise that these forecasts came to fruition…

Opening with a Doors-esque psychedelic instrumental tempered with obtrusive electronics and with perhaps the closest lyrical depiction of a comedown ever written, ‘Downward Spiral’ opens the album in pure style – in less than three minutes Brown has captivatingly reimagined the hip-hop genre that he has been a key player in for so long. ‘Tell Me What I Don’t Know’ and ‘Rolling Stone’ see the dark ambience of the opener continued, the former’s unique tribal-esque beat helping to create an almost uplifting atmosphere juxtaposed with the sheer lyrical pessimism, whilst the interplay between Noir’s deep, soulful melodies and Brown’s piercing rhymes help turn the latter into something quite gorgeous – not a word oft associated his back catalogue.

Whilst the opening trio saw Brown delving into a far more bleak, subdued territory, ‘Really Doe’ stands out as the most obviously ‘rap’ track on the album – as much of a nod to the guiding tenets of the genre as it is iconic in its own right. Aggression pours out of every seam as Brown, Kendrick, Ab-Soul and Earl Sweatshirt each showcase their inimitable styles, coalescing to form a perfect storm; one as infectious as it is frenetic. After a brief stint through ‘Lost’ and its jazz stained weirdness, ‘Ain’t it Funny’ pummels its way through the speakers. Channelling Brown’s more rave orientated aspect of his back catalogue, convulsing synths, feral vocal delivery and a pulsing beat flirt with Death Grips’ aggressive stylings, and cement this track as one of the album’s finest. ‘Golddust’ offers no respite from the prior track’s ferocious pace, seemingly taking many cues from industrial’s characteristic stamp and threatening guitar riffs.

Seemingly entering the next ‘chapter’ in the album, ‘White Lines’ trades the unbridled furore of earlier for a far more anxious, unsettling sound (Brown’s off-kilter syncopated vocal sitting in unison with a synth that sounds most akin to a spasm), a template which ‘Pneumonia’ further distils to create something that sounds more tense than anything he’s ever written before – constantly teasing drops but deliberating refuting predictability by doing anything but that. Again exploring new sonic territory, ‘Dance in the Water’ is this album’s most accessible moment whilst ‘From the Ground’ employs sparse electronics and Kelala’s hypnotic voice in a far less abrasive style, though the focus on melody and vocal hooks do nothing to detract from the musical environment that Brown has so meticulously crafted. ‘When It Rain’ and ‘Today’ see a welcome return to familiarity, both in their hot-blooded energy and renewed focus on dissonance, whereas ‘Get Hi’ couldn’t be much further from these. As to be expected of any track featuring B-Real (aka Mr. Greenthumb), sinisterity is replaced by a hazy, red-eyed warmth in this three minute ode to high grade - its inclusion on the album, quality aside, could be pinned mostly to the aspect of the fact that it’s kinda jokes.

As Brown concludes with a focussed attack against all those who he believes lack integrity in the world of rap over the haunting sonic platform of ‘Hell for It,’ it’s not hard to get a sense that this is an album quite unlike any other. Employing a widened palette stemming in part from Joy Division’s harrowing melancholy (the name ‘Atrocity Exhibition’ certainly isn’t the only point of parity between the two artists), sixties psychedelia and Brown’s encyclopaedic knowledge of the genre that birthed him, it certainly is his most eclectic release so far. Whilst the experiments taken on this album might lose Brown some of the fans he gained on ‘Old,’ it is arguably a better, if somewhat less immediate album. Characterised by a world weary outlook, dependency on self-medication and Brown’s sick school of black humour, this is far from easy listening. It will undeniably require your full attention, but for those willing to invest, ‘Atrocity Exhibition’ will be revealed as an album that truly sits at the peak of innovation.