Last we saw them in LP form, clipping. were spending their time building tomes of horror based in rap history and references just as much as film tropes, both flipped to fit the way they hack their music. On There Existed an Addiction to Blood and Visions of Bodies Being Burned, ‘hack’ was a double entendre, representing the lab-experiment production the trio always dealt in and the chop of a machete dividing flesh. It was all the same – clipping. were always a dark endeavor after all, progressive in their tendencies, but always grounded with one foot in reality to make it all visceral and palpable. Now though, ‘hack’ takes on a new mask.
Dead Channel Sky is clipping.‘s commitment to progressive, futurist rap more than ever before. Cyberpunk ethos and even aesthetics have long since been linked to hip-hop’s history, something that author Roy Christopher expounds on nicely in his contextual prelude to the album that acts as the description for it on its Bandcamp page. This key excerpt sums it up though; ‘Those twin suns—hip-hop and cyberpunk—both rose in the 1970s and warmed the wider world during the 1980s and 1990s. What if someone explicitly merged them into one set and sound? After all, both movements are the result of hacking the haunted leftovers of a war-torn culture that’s long since moved on.’
The origins and ‘point’ of both are more intrinsically linked than many think, making this album inevitable perhaps. clipping., one of this generation’s most forward-thinking and acerbic music groups, grafting cyberpunk onto themselves for a long-form project – it’s almost too on the nose. The subgenre’s tenets of societal collapse caused by total political corruption (you know, as opposed to just 75-80% political corruption) and unchecked, unmitigated capitalism rising lockstep with technological advancement touted as the future standard yet end up creating even more prisons for us really lend themselves to hip-hop’s out-the-mud mentality and general distrust of authority. And like Daveed Diggs raps on the intro track over a sustained dial-up modem motif, ‘Net is like the street in that it’s still a trap‘.
But what about style? clipping. drip in that too. Ever since discovering them with their not-quite-self-titled project CLPPNG in 2014, they’ve commanded such a unique hold within rap to me. No one does it like them, and those that dare almost always lack in certain areas. They always cast a wide berth between the expected and unexpected, both executed equally well. You get dance floor throwback feels from “Mirrorshades pt. 2” and “Dominator”, the latter channeling hard-bodied techno, the kind The Immortals were doing in the ’90s, along with a catchy vocal sample (from fellow techno greats Human Resource) and lyrical references to Public Enemy (and Anthrax if you’re a real freak and/or Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 2 fan). And fuck, what about the lasered-out The Prodigy-esque adrenaline high of “Change the Channel”? It’s everything a netrunner needs to fry entire regional economies, then themselves.
The violence of Dead Channel Sky is clipping. branded, but more chromed-out this time, hot plasma blasting holes through bodies or implants sickened with viruses until they boil the meat of the wearer. It’s less tactile and personal, but more intrusive and gory with death itself invading you. As such, the anxieties are different as well – though a song like “Run It’ is steeped in drugs, the world built during its runtime (the longest on the album) and in adjacent songs detail just how dangerous and fragile life is. William Hutson and Jonathan Snipes’ production on this song (and others like “Code”) isn’t terribly far from the dystopian aesthetics that El-P plays with on stuff he produces like Killer Mike‘s “Ghetto Gospel” or his own “Drones Over Bklyn”. I never realized how badly I needed an El-P feature on a clipping. song, or a Diggs verse on an El or Run The Jewels track until now.
Dead Channel Sky does have its fair share of great features though. The marquee guest is of course Aesop Rock on the single “Welcome Home Warrior”. A match made in weirdo rap heaven, it’s not hard to see the chemistry and ‘it’s about time’ energy of the track. The beat clashes droning synths with snappy drums like a kid slamming their action figures together in epic battle, but Diggs’ rapping is some of the most calm and collected on the LP, but also the most cerebral. Aes nearly steals the show with his verse lamenting the inorganic and increasingly emulated nature of life, the most concerning of which is that it’s not far off from our own realities. I have to go for the underdog though – queer Canadian rap duo and Sub Pop labelmates Cartel Madras run the show on “Mirrorshades pt. 2” with deft flows and gilded tough talk lyrics, like Charli xcx with an AK stashed in the trunk and a cleaner on speed dial. They fit the production so damn well too. Shout out to clipping. for always consistently featuring and platforming cool, lesser-known femme rappers, from Cocc Pistol Cree to these ladies.
It’s been five long years since clipping. dropped a fully-fledged project like this so you’d think I’d be chomping at the bit for more from them, and while I was, I still found Dead Channel Sky to be a bit much. I chalk this up to my gravitating toward shorter projects and appreciation of succinctly told stories in music and other mediums in recent years (ironic for me, the guy that writes long-ass reviews all the fucking time). A couple songs missed more than they hit like “Mood Organ” which is a little too offbeat for me, or “Dodger” which is executed well with compelling breakbeat-style production, but ran a little long. Their last few albums have been longer, deeper, bloodier endeavors so it’s all certainly in line with their artistic vision these days, my ADHD is simply getting the best of me it seems.
Dead Channel Sky is a hellified sensory overload of stories, like watching several different videos projected onto a wall at once. Everything is captured – fleets of spy satellites, paramilitary outfits servicing the richest corporations, synthetic drugs and death rampant in urban slums, the by-a-thread marriage of flesh and technology, surveillance cameras on any corner you can see, all basking under the warm neon hue of whatever megacity hell it’s all crammed in. Everything, and everyone, has a price. clipping. are just the all-knowing rap Fates of this collapsing universe weaving tall tales of the few winners and many losers in their own mythology, something we could fold ourselves into experiencing ourselves in the next couple decades if we’re lucky. Technofascism has never sounded or will sound as good as this.
Band photo by David Fitt
