Aesop Rock is a man that is almost always spoken of with reverence and held in high esteem for leading the way in the NY hip hop underground. It therefore continues to frustrate me that I cannot manage to enjoy this album. I mean, I appreciate his social conscience, his blisteringly talented beat poetry projections, his ludicrous juggling of syntax, the mental challenge of first catching and then de-constructing the light-speed phrases… all of that.
The problem is that no matter where you drop in on
None Shall Pass, excitement and intrigue can develop into an uncomfortable feeling of overindulgence, kinda like that last trip you made to Krispy Kream. Blockhead’s production and sampling is still great value, but Aesop’s robotic, monotone, steel-jawed delivery is relentless and abrasive. Unless your sole purpose for listening is to feverishly digest the meaning behind his rapid-fire raps, it just isn’t really that fun to come back to. Maybe for someone who’s got so much to say, and in fascinating ways, it is hard to remember that less is more.