The only certainty about Strange U is that the more you listen, the more of the world you see. It just isn’t yours.
The reptile is abetting Kashmere and nobody is doing anything about it. How is the government going to help? Prime Minister-designate, Mr. Kill, has just snorted a fat line of coke and is about detonate your local hospital. Dr. Zygote offers zero option but to banish all reality around you.
“The most underhanded bandit not another man began tryna understand the madness”
#LP4080 has made a crater on Earth, and the people swarm despite deadly levels of radiation. Between the sonic zaps and lingering synths there’s something resonating with your own world, but your eye-sight keeps blurring before you can grasp what it is. You don’t know if you’re being drugged or if it’s making things clearer than they ever were before. You’re a captive to the eye-drilling wordplay and there isn’t a soul in the galaxy that can save you.
It’s sci-fi dystopia personified at its most compelling and obscure. Daisy stuffs the coin slot for the interluding ambience of Super Mario’s psychotic nightmare. Mumm Ra exposes love at last- Venomous. A dark beauty lingers behind the LP’s alienation of casual rap drifters, whittling out anybody unprepared to explore something as probing and unusual. The world hasn’t been unsuspectingly hit with a sandbox of such carnage since Grand Theft Auto III.
“Gone without a trace, lost in outer-space, eyeballs popping out my face”
But who could be prepared for enough psychedelic trauma to send Raoul Duke on a spiritual retreat to the Tibetan mountains? You’re guided solely by the over-arching voice of perverted reason, and just when things begin to feel tangible, your little patch of land evaporates and you bounce further along the walls of a holographic abyss.
Is that Fliptrix? Yep. Lee Scott? Sounds familiar. Where’s Onoe Caponoe? Maybe next time. Every door below the little walking man on a neon exit sign is a trap. Fuck it, go and enter the maze yourself.