age’s early recordings may not have garnered much press, but they were promising enough to catch the attention of one of the most high profile underground rap labels out there, Definitive Jux. One needs only to listen to a few tracks from Hell’s Winter to realize that this addition is a natural, if somewhat predictable fit. Hell’s Winter is very much in the Fantastic Damage vein, with Cage surveying what he sees as the madness surrounding him, both personal and global, and condemning it all, occasionally with a hint of humor but mostly through deliberate, disillusioned barbs.

Def Jux not only rolled out some of its biggest names to help Cage along (El-P, who both produces and raps, Aesop Rock, RJD2), but also enlisted an impressive set of guest stars including DJ Shadow, Blockhead, and Matt Sweeney, among others. Cage is unquestionably the album’s dominating presence, but with everyone else contributing their music and verses here and there, the overall sound almost resembles that of a group effort.

While big names will always spark the interest of curious listeners, there’s no guarantee that the end result will be successful sonically. With almost every guest being more well-known than the title artist, Cage runs the risk of being upstaged. This is what makes the album’s cohesiveness production-wise such a pleasant surprise. Credit the track sequencing, which sees track flowing easily from one to another, skillfully blending the producers’ varied styles.

Lyrically Cage proves himself capable of clever wordplay, but occasionally his delivery fails to adequately differentiate itself from that of his peers, notably El-P and Sage Francis (although, to be fair, at times his flow resembles Mos Def). There are memorable lines scattered throughout Hell’s Winter, such as the opening to “Peeranoia” (“I’ve tried at a lot of drugs / I’ve tried a lot of ladies / Some I probably wouldn’t have tried if I wasn’t on drugs.”) and his boast on “Public Property” (“The much better looking white Al Roker after gastric bypass brings the Weather; it’s over”) But the effectiveness of songs like “Stripes,” a vitriolic rampage against his “deadbeat,” drug addict father (who just happens to be named Bill Murray), are hampered by tracks that contain overly timely rants like “Grand Ol’ Party Crash,” whose success depends largely on how funny you find Jello Biafra’s George Bush impression to be.

Hell’s Winter has its moments, but while the production is noteworthy, the actual songs within are rather hit or miss. With some work and some focus, Cage could become as fearsome a rapper as his lyrics would suggest. He’s got the beats and the friends to propel him onward, but as of yet he’s not quite the star that Def Jux was hoping for.