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ALBUM OF THE WEEK: billy woods & Kenny Segal - "Maps"

by Dan Goldin (@post_trash_)

Upon the release of Maps, the second collaborative album from billy woods and Kenny Segal, woods’ Armand Hammer partner ELUCID said what we were all thinking, “How is every billy woods album his best one?” It’s not a statement of hyperbole, but a reflection on the fact that against all odds, woods just keeps getting better, running full speed from one impossible high mark to the next. In addition to his output with Armand Hammer, woods’ solo work has cemented himself in a tier of “underground” rap all his own, with a delivery that requires academic levels of analysis and an encyclopedic knowledge of history, hip-hop, colonialism, ancestry, and apocalyptic prophecy. To call his music “underground” is a bit misleading, but woods creates music that eschews accessibility in favor of impact. He’s earned “album of the year” level praise from the the “prestigious” music press for nearly half a decade, but despite that critical acclaim, woods maintains his own lane, a path that could never be mistaken for “commercial” rap. He’s not dumbing it down. His words are poetic, intellectual but raw, and layered in meaning. Regardless of where he resides in the cultural zeitgeist, woods has become synonymous with conceptual masterpieces, creating landmark albums that are deep in thought, working only with those that find merit in pushing forward the brilliance of hip-hop.

After working together on Armand Hammer tracks for the Paraffin album, woods and Segal joined forces again for 2019’s Hiding Places, a once in a generation album of immaculate lyricism and the beats to match, subsiding somewhere between avant-garde and classic boom-bap rap, a surreal odyssey of crackling static infused beats and woods’ laser-focused world view that brings introspection to the outer realms. A blueprint for “alternative” hip-hop in a way reminiscent to Madvillainy (not necessarily in sound, but in structure), it’s respectably a legendary album… but woods isn’t one to rest on his laurels. That same year he released the stark Terror Management and followed the next year with the experimental and triumphant BRASS, an album length collaboration with Moor Mother. Then came Aethiopes, last year’s Preservation produced LP, that once again seemed to change everything, another undeniable masterpiece, with cinematic beats that play like condensed film scores. Yet again, woods had made a classic, a record that flirts with perfection, with a progressive element to raw yet refined rhymes. In the way that Terror Management felt almost like a compendium to Hiding Places, woods released Church only a handful of months after Aethiopes, presenting what could be described as the flip to the coin, an album that trades the high art and high concepts of it’s predecessor for a (relatively) laid back and smoked out trip into woods’ past. All that said, and we’re not even touching the pair of Armand Hammer albums that arrived during the pandemic. So… what comes next?

In these post-lockdown years, woods has been playing catch-up, bringing his live show as a solo artist (and together with ELUCID) to every corner of the globe, a seemingly endless tour in support of a plethora of increasingly important records. While it seems hard to believe he’s had time to reflect upon his life on the road, it’s clearly been on his mind, as visions of “home” fade and he’s left sleepless on planes, in hotels, and at soundchecks. The grind of it all brought woods back to Kenny Segal, the pair resuming their instant chemistry for Maps, and with it, yet another record that feels destined for hip-hop infamy. It’s a roadtrip set in cavernous venues, lengthy carshare rides, dispensaries, and airport terminals, and despite the weary nature of cyclical travel, billy woods sounds as though he’s having fun. It’s worth repeating, woods is having fun. He’s cracking jokes, he’s weaving complex punchlines, making references to metal bands and rappers, and tossing out barbs and jabs that come with showing up in a new town and being presented with immediate complications. Sometimes it’s all too much, and woods reflects on those he misses, while he disassociates and travels subconsciously, escaping to a place of perma-stoned isolated thought. woods is penning his diary amid the grind, from restless feelings and time elapsed, to delirious humor and the comfort of good weed.

Maps brings us along for the ride, we’re given descriptions of the food, the atmospheres, the sound and smells of tour. woods is doing his best to make himself at “home” despite the strange and rapidly changing world around him. That effort is aided on occasion, much like travel, by the presence of friends and peers. Over the deep pocket drums of “Soundcheck,” he’s joined by the ever majestic Quelle Chris, the two in agreement, they will be avoiding soundcheck in favor of a bit of pre-show solitude. Elsewhere ShrapKnel, the duo of Curly Castro and PremRock trade bars on “Babylon By Bus,” a song that remains in motion, the beat moving like stretches of new highway, as the three take stock of the rigors of touring. Danny Brown brings a direct yet animated aura to “Year Zero,” his words enunciated with great effect while Aesop Rock delivers a reflective verse of the thoughts between thoughts on “Waiting Around”. As per usual though, the chemistry between woods and ELUCID is unparalleled. Their voices, their delivery, their train of simultaneous thought is always complementary. “Baby Steps” feels like a fever dream, with the pair painting in fragments, expectations being dissolved as punchline lyrics are delivered smirk free with the utmost sincerity. They meet again on “As The Crow Flies,” the end of the journey, as one tour has ended and the next is already beginning.

With woods approaching the record as what could be considered a lyrical clarity (at least as far as woods’ free form thought goes), Segal does his part to shape the sound. With the production of Aethiopes, Preservation’s beats are given nearly as much freedom and focal emphasis as woods’ rhymes, both challenging each other, an exploration of all that is possible. Segal, on the other hand uses his production to craft a vision of support; it’s the framework laid out in a way that generally allows woods and his eloquent lyrics the spotlight. This isn’t to say the design is passive, as Kenny Segal’s musical dexterity is far from it. He’s laying out Maps like a beat tape, threading a psychedelic adventure of boom-bap classicism into something ever shifting, the sounds of the drums, synths, guitars, and loops changing tonality and tempo, like a portrait in motion. Rhythms are thrown in reverse, dreamy landscapes are deconstructed and rebuilt, and the bass knocks with a casual pulse. The sound is far from sleek by design and yet the clarity is profound. Every impossibly tight snare, dissonant chime, and tape hiss warble is presented in perfection, it’s lo-fi aesthetics with a refined and deft studio capability. Together, woods and Segal are working on the same page, pulling the extravagant from the monotonous. The taxing notion of life on the road has never sounded quite as illuminated as it does throughout Maps.