It’s all been said: »When you get too young, it ain’t fun.«. The trip’s end is disillusioning, even though Young Fathers have just begun. The trio from Edinburgh has just released a record called »Dead«, which might be the best HipHop-debut of the last years. It’s because Young Fathers couldn’t care less about well-intended advice – their sound has grown independently as the logical link between Pop and arts, between Hip Hop and psychedelic. »Just Another Bullet« is driven by New Wave’s attitude of rejection, combined with African rhythms, compressed into two and a half minutes. »Dead« is parading its quirkiness in every single tone, and nothing characterizes the eleven tracks on this record better than the fact that the two labels Anticon and Big Dada have cooperated to release them. »Mmmh Mmmh« is made of rumbling synthesizers and dreary beats, only to finally open up and breath freely in its hook – a perfect track. Still, it would be wrong to start spinning a tale of backpacks and coming-of-age. Because »Dead« really isn’t about an educational mission. Instead, it’s all about atmosphere and one’s own well-being. Horn-rimmed magazines would probably call it driving art-Hip-Hop. Which would be as fitting as it would be unfitting. »Dead« isn’t academical or artificial – it just turns existing conventions upside down. This record is a trip into the unconscious, into broken and imperfect territories. »You close your eyes, when I‘m reaching your door«, as they sing on »WAR«. »You know it’s time to send a storm.« With »Dead«, Young Fathers are sowing the wind that it takes for one great storm. And until then: Enjoy the tempest.
Dead
