Elucid's music is based on observation and elevated by imagination. The New York rapper and producer's awareness of the precarious world we live in and the body it inhabits charges his songs with the urgency of the times. If his last solo project, in 2022 I told Bessiewas a brighter, more hopeful counterpoint to the dark soundscapes and stark imagery of some of his earlier work, REVELATION is its clear-eyed, clenched-fisted successor, but no less hopeful. “I hold my children's hand and walk hard against the wind” he rhymes on “Bad Pollen”, giving us a mental image of a man who perseveres despite the circumstances because he has people to live for and their future to fight for.
The genre of indie hip-hop that Elucid makes is known (and sometimes maligned) for its wordiness, but Elucid's songwriting here is distinguished by its economy of words—not their overabundance. When he says, “My favorite month is September/I make great babies, but I'm done making N-words” on “Ikebana,” you can hear the words and feel a black father breaking a curse. Rather than stuffing it with vocabulary, Elucid tries to say something emotionally compelling with the fewest possible words. The concise, frantic writing on tracks like “World Is Dog” and the choruses-as-mantras throughout the album make REVELATION both accessible and intoxicating.
The lyrics are complemented by a soundscape of noise, wandering crash, glitches and distortion from the artist himself along with producers Jon Nellen, August Fanon, Child Actor, The Lasso, DJ Haram, Samiyam and Saint Abdullah. All of these seemingly disparate elements are held together by live instrumentation—namely the drums played by key collaborator Nellen and the dynamic live bass courtesy of Irreversible Entanglements virtuoso Luke Stewart. On “Slum of a Disregard,” Stewart's taught bassline propels the track forward and only maintains its groove as fumes give way to Elucid's clipped voice uttering the words “My owner … is … Zionist”.
Elucid's baritone is the signal in the noise. On the album, his voice alternates between a musical instrument, a tool, and a weapon. Sometimes he sounds like he's reading from a scroll or stone tablet (“CCTV”), other times his tone is as intimate as late-night whispers between lovers in bed together (“SKP”).
from our partners at https://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/elucid-revelator