Known for his extensive vocabulary and incredibly dense songs, Aesop Rock has one of the most unusual voices and approaches to rap in history. “The Impossible Kid,” the rapper’s first album in four years, does nothing but strengthen his legacy.
The LP, which tells a profoundly personal story about life and growth, can almost be considered a confessional. However, it’s not obvious or whiny about it.
Listening to this album is like looking at a smudged photograph. Listeners have a pretty good idea of some of the relationships and events Aesop has experienced over the last several years — likely, those causing him to leave San Francisco and live in a barn secluded in the woods for a few years — but in the end, they’re still just guessing. All composition on the album is his own, which is another reason this man should be considered a leader and trailblazer of the indie-rap genre.
The biggest standouts on “The Impossible Kid” give fans the clearest look into Aesop Rock’s psyche. These include “Blood Sandwich,” which discusses the relationships he has with his brothers, and “Get Out of the Car,” which touches on his experience with death after losing friend and fellow rapper Camu Tao. Lyrics like, “Into the woods go his alien tongue / It was that or a textbook faking of funk / And I can’t,” may explain his hiatus.
Other songs show Aesop isn’t content living out in the middle of nowhere. On “Dorks,” for example, the artist says, “If I died in my apartment like a rat in a cage / Would the neighbors smell the corpse before the cat ate my face? / I used to floss the albatross like Daddy Kane with the chain / I’m trying to jettison the ballast with the hazardous waste.” Clearly, he is not done making a difference in the world.
A similar fear of solitariness is also seen in “Lotta Years,” which adds a refreshing breath of simplicity to the album. Aesop describes hearing a conversation between a juice bar employee and a customer, and then he reflects on aging and cultural changes: “You should have seen me in the 80s / I was bumping New Edition, dragging acne into Hades.” This track shows a lot more and tells a lot less.
“The Impossible Kid” is true to Aesop’s identity as an artist and shows his extreme growth as a producer. As is the case with most of his other work, this album is hard to listen to for pleasure — it’s very dense, and the tracks start to blend together about halfway through — but such is Aesop’s work. His music is mysterious and exists for stimulation, not relaxation.