Listening Priority: High
Every hip-hop fan claims to be after something super lyrical. This usually translates to increasing the syllable-to-bar ratio and having some fun with double entendre, but what happens when a rapper actually delivers lyrical dynamite? And what if they do it in a way that puts lyrics ahead of delivery, flow, and beats? Ka's recent albums offers the perfect test case. The Night's Gambit's lyrics contain hot lines ("We ain't speak, clicking heat is our Morse code,"), a unique set of ideas and references, a mix of personal and larger struggles, and wordplay that goes beyond simple jokes. "Our Father" has Ka on a warpath, with a vengeful hook ("Our Father who art in heaven / Hollows hit my man, they sparked my brethren / Hurting so I'm certain won't be good today / All I ask Lord, is Lord look away") and an uncertainty about whether he wants divine absolution, ignorance, or intervention. In "Jungle," he sees himself as part of the human "team that never left the scene, apparently arrogant from battling the Nephilim" and notes that he "should've studied I Self Lord and Master." Ka's framing his struggles in religious terms and theological questions make for fascinating lyrics and transcend the usual gangster invocation of higher powers.
Then there's the influence of the culture. On the excellent album closer, "Off the Record," Ka catalogs moments of his life phrased in classic hip-hop album terms ("my strong plea all eyes on me, this is precious / 'fore things fall apart, I pray your heart get the message") and then finishes by rapping "I was donned with the baggage / All these psalms calmed my savage / How I live was often hectic / All this is off the record." It's both a clever bit of wordplay and a great piece on the constant intersections of life and art. Ka's delivery and flow seems almost deliberately understated in a climate where the up-and-comers (Danny Brown, Chance the Rapper, Kendrick Lamar) have flashy vocal styles and adlibs. But if Ka's vocals are less accessibly showy or emotional, they're also imbued with a gravity that lends his lyrics an air of authenticity. Kanye recently kept emphasizing Yeezus's "minimalism," but it's got nothing on the Night's Gambit beats. "Peace Akhi" is little more than percussion punctuated by single piano keys. The pulsing synths and drums of "Knighthood" make it sound like an updated Liquid Swords beat. Ka's music is frequently praised as being a throwback to the 90s, but while it's as rough as early RZA-influenced sounds, it's also more subtle. Ka's beats sound like there's a live band playing them while the Wu-Tang beats sound much more like chopped samples. This isn't to say that one is better than the other - I love the way that the Wu production knocks - but it's important to differentiate and see that Ka is forging his own path. The intensity contained within this album means that it's not necessarily an album that finds itself being constantly played, but if blesses inquiring listeners with real knowledge.
Every hip-hop fan claims to be after something super lyrical. This usually translates to increasing the syllable-to-bar ratio and having some fun with double entendre, but what happens when a rapper actually delivers lyrical dynamite? And what if they do it in a way that puts lyrics ahead of delivery, flow, and beats? Ka's recent albums offers the perfect test case. The Night's Gambit's lyrics contain hot lines ("We ain't speak, clicking heat is our Morse code,"), a unique set of ideas and references, a mix of personal and larger struggles, and wordplay that goes beyond simple jokes. "Our Father" has Ka on a warpath, with a vengeful hook ("Our Father who art in heaven / Hollows hit my man, they sparked my brethren / Hurting so I'm certain won't be good today / All I ask Lord, is Lord look away") and an uncertainty about whether he wants divine absolution, ignorance, or intervention. In "Jungle," he sees himself as part of the human "team that never left the scene, apparently arrogant from battling the Nephilim" and notes that he "should've studied I Self Lord and Master." Ka's framing his struggles in religious terms and theological questions make for fascinating lyrics and transcend the usual gangster invocation of higher powers.
Then there's the influence of the culture. On the excellent album closer, "Off the Record," Ka catalogs moments of his life phrased in classic hip-hop album terms ("my strong plea all eyes on me, this is precious / 'fore things fall apart, I pray your heart get the message") and then finishes by rapping "I was donned with the baggage / All these psalms calmed my savage / How I live was often hectic / All this is off the record." It's both a clever bit of wordplay and a great piece on the constant intersections of life and art. Ka's delivery and flow seems almost deliberately understated in a climate where the up-and-comers (Danny Brown, Chance the Rapper, Kendrick Lamar) have flashy vocal styles and adlibs. But if Ka's vocals are less accessibly showy or emotional, they're also imbued with a gravity that lends his lyrics an air of authenticity. Kanye recently kept emphasizing Yeezus's "minimalism," but it's got nothing on the Night's Gambit beats. "Peace Akhi" is little more than percussion punctuated by single piano keys. The pulsing synths and drums of "Knighthood" make it sound like an updated Liquid Swords beat. Ka's music is frequently praised as being a throwback to the 90s, but while it's as rough as early RZA-influenced sounds, it's also more subtle. Ka's beats sound like there's a live band playing them while the Wu-Tang beats sound much more like chopped samples. This isn't to say that one is better than the other - I love the way that the Wu production knocks - but it's important to differentiate and see that Ka is forging his own path. The intensity contained within this album means that it's not necessarily an album that finds itself being constantly played, but if blesses inquiring listeners with real knowledge.
Key Tracks: Jungle, Our Father, Off the Record, Knighthood