producers: aesop rock, el-p

guests: blueprint

7. Maintenance

Another despatch from the strange and wonderful mind of the Rockster. Here we have six (seven if you count the hidden track - and you really should) tracks of sardonic soul-searching, all of which continue Aesop's original brand of beat science - and by that I don't just mean banging drums, although they are undoubtedly present and correct. I'm also referring to the spirit of Kerouac, Ginsburg and Bukowski (okay so the latter wasn't really one of the beats, but you know what I'm getting at) which seems to course through the dense lyricism here. Aesop manages to invoke the literary tradition of the East Village whilst avoiding tired boho cliches and safe jazz samples, and that's no mean feat in my book. There's always a touch of melancholy drift in Aesop's music which makes his restless lyrical wanderings compelling and refreshing.

The title cut "Daylight" you should know, a standout track from "Labor Days". You are invited to "pick a dream, American nightmare hogging the screen" while Aesop bemoans the fact that you can't always get what you want. Its bigger and uglier sister "Nightlight ('suckers!')" follows on a darker tip, warped guitars and obstinate beats accompanying the same spitting Aesop evident on Def Jux Presents 2's "Dead Pan". New York is described as "The city of lost particles and leeches" and we are taken on a tour through an Escher-like nightmare scenario. Perfect for those sleepless nights when you need to know there's someone somewhere on earth who feels the same.

The El-P-produced "Nickle Plated Pockets" continues the Rotten Apple travelogue through "a city where every crack in the sidewalk is a symbol". As always El-Producto perfectly evokes the disorienting, unreal feel of Gotham, employing heavenly choirs but keeping them anchored down with guitar stabs and treacherous beats. Vast of CanOx is here, playing a cameo as a NYC panhandler, pleading for a loosie and perhaps telling us a little too much about his relationship with squirrels. 9/11 is chillingly referenced in a slo-mo glide past "world trade centre victim candle vigils", all the more effective for its brevity in the light of bad taste-leaving charity singles and empty but well-meaning platitudes.

"Alchemy" features Blueprint declaiming "I'm a bad man" but maybe he's just fallen in with a bad crowd. In any case Aesop is simpatico here, invoking "dirty destiny" and "wild wonder", hunkered in an underground bunker transforming base material into B-Boy gold. "Forest Crunk" drags Tom Hanks through an entirely different American landscape and educates him in the art of instrumental melancholy. A lonely melodica provides the haunting refrain here, reminiscent of the work of labelmate RJD2.

"Bracket Basher" rides a monstrous groove complete with distorto-bass and jaunty piano, Aesop in seemingly lighter mood despite claiming "I'm not trying to save the world, I'd rather watch it die slow". Another fantastic thing about listening to Aesop Rock is the amount of humour present - I caught myself laughing out loud on countless occasions here, especially when Aesop 'fesses to bowing at the altar of "the gods of pornography and Playstation" and slurs Tina Turner's theme to Mad Max 3 in the background. The confessional edge cuts deep without being self-pitying ("9-5ers Anthem" from "Labor Days" being another case in point - a cut which helped me through quite a few shit-job moments of panic).

Aesop may be the poet laureate of his generation, and I don't mean that in the usual pre/post-millenium sense of mythical slackers and fashion mag pretension. I mean that he represents a generation forced into a compromise between the harsh realities of the poorly-paid daily grind and the realisation of ambitions which don't conclude with a pension and a carriage clock, and all the trauma and occasional joy that struggle entails. Buy this and be inspired, and remember - you're never alone.