Culture Blues

Music: “Fallen House Sunken City” – B. Dolan

B. Dolan’s 2008 debut The Failure was an intimidating record. The apocalyptic labor of love was filled with spoken word performances, weird, distortion-heavy songs and bomb shelter dialogues between Dolan and a talking computer. Needless to say, it probably turned some people off. But his latest offering proves that he is capable of creating unique, rewarding music in a more traditional rap format.

Fallen House Sunken City maintains much of the paranoia and cynicism of Dolan's earlier work. As the title suggests, this album is about deterioration, the deterioration of individuals and the world around them. Sleep comes up again and again, seeming more like coma or death than catnap. Solitude is a repeated motif. Television is a recurring villain. It's heavy stuff, but Dolan’s eloquence and tenacity make sure it's never dreary or boring.

As the co-founder of corporate watchdog knowmore.org, Dolan’s jabs at consumerism (Fifty Ways to Bleed Your Customer) and Earth’s out-of-control land development (Earthmovers) are predictable but no less enjoyable for it. They are two of the album’s many standouts. The album also touches on more unexpected topics. In The Hunter, Dolan steps into the shoes of a vampire hunter. Peppered with details from a historical event, the story is specific, but the themes addressed clearly have much broader applications. Marvin, on the other hand, is about Marvin Gaye and, more specifically, his murder at the hands of his father, a minister. It reminds me of Dolan’s brilliant and thoroughly depressing tribute to Evel Knievel on The Failure, The Skycycle Blues. Aurally, the songs offer some welcome variety, from the bouncy Economy of Words (Bail It Out) to the orchestral Border Crossing. And the many songs begging for audience participation are sure to be crowd pleasers live and in headphones.

All of the production is handled by veteran indie beatsmith Alias, of the militantly anti-conformist Anticon crew. His hard hitting, bread and butter beats serve as the perfect backdrop for Dolan’s gruff voice and doom and gloom attitude. The music isn’t just window dressing though. With substantial instrumental sections and beats that transform mid-song, this feels, in many ways, like a B. Dolan AND Alias album.

It’s still difficult, uncompromising music, but the streamlined design makes it easier to digest, and with an ending that intentionally lacks closure or a grand send off, the listener is left hungering for more. With any luck, we won’t have to wait long.