Internet, I’ve had enough! This time, I’ve got to step up and use my own voice as the voice of reason: Yes, after eight years of waiting, one could maybe expect (even) more, and Monch still hasn’t created the epochal masterpiece that his skills would more than allow. But to complain about the fact that the now 35-years-old musician has not coughed up 13 super sick tracks à la Rape, but rather went for soul-hop in the manner of Common, is just another shade of gaga. Why should Troy Jamerson of all people be denied the obligatory coming of age record? The fact that someone could not celebrate the soulmonster Pusha, the energetic black-milk-gadget Let’s Go, the Alchemist-title-track or lines like »The right to bare arms, I’m not talking ’bout wifebeaters«, is just as improbable as Detox, A Man Of Few Words, Swift and Changeable and OB4CL II being released on the very same day. There’s also a well-hung post-Like Water For Chocolate-ism, a well done Public Enemy remake, clever tracks like Trilogy or When The Gun Draws and a silly Andre 3000 remembrance-foolery. But whom am I telling all these things? Those who have heard this gentleman rap would even pay 15 dollars for an album on which he flows over lawn mower noises.
Desire
