Busdriver is pretty unapologetic about what to expect. On “Kill Your Employer” he mutters in his characteristic pschyo-bass, “I burn flags not oilfields/ I'm no ex-football player Iraqi combatant/ It's me fucker.”


If radical leftist rap or rants about vegan hot dogs get on your nerves, Busdriver is emphatically not for you. But if you can tolerate that sort of thing and are awed by verbal acrobatics, by pure syllabic punishment, then Busdriver is your man.





[caption id="attachment_12921" align="aligncenter" width="400" caption="Busdriver, Flow to the left."]<em>Busdriver, Flow to the left.</em>[/caption]

The guy is a jackhammer, a maniac who spews double time jeremiads like the world's ending. Unspooling bars of dense internal rhymes, he lets vowel sounds drive his social critiques—often leading to unsuspected, dizzying conclusions.


On “Yawning Zeitgeist Intro (Freestyle),” he flows:




"Now, some of your friends will reboot and do a Google search and will be discouraged that the truth will hurt when they see that I'm not their zeitgeist, nor am I Christ-like, nor do I dislike whites. I just want a better chance as, most likely, I'll sell more records in France."



Or check out his torrential flow on “Me-Time,” the lead single on his newest album, Jhelli Beam, where he pummels Mozart's already pummeling "Piano Sonata No. 11 in A Major."


There is a danger to this. When technical proficiency is such a large aspect of your flow it's easy to let it overwhelm your content. Sometimes Busdriver falls into Yngwie Malmsteen territory; jerking off at such high speeds that, while impressive, don't look like much fun.


But then there are also moments like “Casting Agents and Cow Girls” where Busdriver's reckless abandon hits the gleeful highs by packing his lines with enough vivid images to keep us hooked: “Girl, I'm a walking plane-crash to your moms and dads/Ostentatious and crass pulling the gauze off your scabs” Ouch.


Busdriver plays Chop Suey on Sunday August 30th

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