The Rubber Room column is a weekly look at recent and notable releases that don’t fall into the rubric of traditional reviews or reviewed material—namely 7”’s, 12”’s, 3” CDs, EPs, cassette-only, DVDs and MP3-only releases.

31 Knots
The Curse of the Longest Day
[Polyvinyl, 2005]

31 Knots craft music that brings out both aggression and patience, and that tension drives the music. On opener "Welcome to Stop" the band uses the cliched "space between the notes" to build suspense before turning loose a wail of guitar and vocals. In "The Corpse and the Carcass" the shift of lead instrument from piano to guitar allows the song to darken, as Joe Haege turns from distrust to explicit nihilism in an unnerving lyrical line. With moments of tempered post-punk groove and math-rock precision, the trio offers warnings that hint at the political, but only as far as an examination of the seedy life can echo.
[Justin Cober-Lake]

Mimir
Untitled (010, Opaque Vinyl 7”)
[Brainwashed, 2005]

Taken from a session recorded a few years back, it’s difficult to pinpoint exactly who did what with which black box (Mimir's membership includes Christoph Heemann, Edward Ka-Spel, Andreas Martin, Phil Knight and Jim O’Rourke) on this serving of quality single tone drone. Some milky shuddering movement in the aural undergrowth reveals distant pealing bells from some Shyamalan village just beyond the artwork’s moody snowbound wood. Turning over, and again untitled, Mimir introduce a slow burning smattering electronic clicking that builds into a looking glass hip-hop beat with metal percussive touches. Mooring it even closer to convention is the growling buzzing sounds that are budged step by step into an unambiguous melody.
[Scott McKeating]

Nine Black Alps
Nine Black Alps EP
[Tiny Evil, 2005]

Nine Black Alps do competent rock 'n' roll, but for all the squelch and guitar-riffing, it's hard to get excited. We've heard it all before too many times, sometimes via Pearl Jam, but more often via those groups whose shows you enjoy but then forget about by the next morning. This EP contains their UK singles, but the band sounds strikingly American (at least to American ears anticipating Britishness). But it's good enough—you'll probably hear a single on the radio, maybe "Cosmopolitan" or one of those ones that sound like the other ones—but then the playlist will change and you'll forget about it.
[Justin Cober-Lake]



HEADUCATION
[an occasional look into the world of hip-hop]


G-Unity: Or how I learned to stop worrying and love the 50

Fam is fam and blood is thicker than water, but the chest-thumping, machismo-manufacturing gorillas who occasionally platoon as a rap collective jock the thug-love card so hard that one has to wonder: is the bro’ing out a sleight of hand employed to ensure that the skrilla keeps rolling in, or have we been using the wrong metaphor for “Candy Shop” all along? Actually, probably both—mediocre rappers are mediocre rappers unless combined with other mediocre rappers who turn out to be exceptional salesmen; then they become platinum gold selling artists. And am I the only one who thought the beef between Fiddy and the Game was nothing more than a lovers’ quarrel? No matter. With the G-unit legacy secure, it’s time to ask more important questions. Like, whose “so seductive” catchphrase is sexier: Fifty’s or Tony Yayo?

[Tony Yayo (f. 50 Cent), “So Seductive,” Aftermath, 2005]
The answer: Curtis Jackson. In a landslide. While his boss has the sneering-Barry-White baritone down to an art form, Yayo struggles to conceal his disdain for the chorus, which automatically relegates it to secondary status. This may actually go a long way in explaining Fiddy’s astronomical leap from mixtape maverick to chart-topping behemoth: not only does he recognize a melody that sticks—he’ll hum it for you too. Alas, Yayo, along with his cohorts Young Buck and Lloyd Banks have neither the sensibility nor the desire to become first-rate sing-alongers. Too bad—because it might infuse their soggy flows with something more concrete.

[The Game, “300 Bars And Runnin’,” You Know What It Is Volume 3 mixtape, 2005]
The most ambitious and breathtaking (breathless, as well—300 bars is longer than you think) undertaking of 2005 by an artist not named Robert Kelly, “300 Bars And Runnin’” is a crash course on lyrical beatdowns, which comes as a bit of a surprise considering The Game’s metronomic amble all throughout The Documentary. There’s much here to admire from the G-unit mutineer: his shapeshifting (lyrically speaking), his pointed insults (calling Olivia a man), and of course, his spot-on modulations of all the G-unit members’ deliveries, especially Lloyd Banks. He may go back to being unsigned hype by the time 50—and potentially Aftermath—are through with him, but at least, he went out swinging.

[Mobb Deep (f. 50 Cent), “Outta Control,” mixtape, 2005]
Rumored to be the latest of Aftermath’s rap-vet acquisitions (M.O.P. is the other), Prodigy (he of the sickle cell and murderous melismas) and Havoc (he who specializes in the dark-and-stormy-night-beat variety) are all bark, no bite on this wannabe-scorcher-collabo with the self-proclaimed king of New York. This despite a pretty serviceable beat; there’s this lightning-bolt synth effect that reverberates throughout, and we all know how a cleanly executed synth can do wonders for a track’s intensity. If only Cent’s honeycombed chorus didn’t sound like he was auditioning for the Chi-lites; Mobb’s about menace, not merrymaking.

[50 Cent, “So Amazing,” Aftermath, 2005]
Here’s a surprise: he’s singing again. And having a lark—oh, no wait, that’s Olivia, G-unit’s token R&B diva without the R. “So Amazing” is like the Burger King version of 50: you can have it your way. It’s a big ole slab of sensitive thug, circa “21 Questions” topped with some “P.I.M.P.”-type condiments: after all, bitch better act right if he’s gonna love her like a fat kid love cake. Who cares if the ingredients aren’t the freshest—“In the bedroom working it well / I don’t kiss and tell / But I don’t care if you kiss and tell” isn’t exactly Browning—but it’s still F-50 at his best: serenading us with all the things that have nothing to do with artistry, but everything to do with—dare I say it—product placement?
[Chi Tung]