Jam Baxter, a Londoner Ras Kass, releases his most expected album
A little riff raff, some cortical veggie eruptions, this lyrical mastermind is yet to be caught shitting on your front porch, although he does it big, odorous, rings the doorbell and then he's gone. No verse may be left without a replay, no word is alike, his texts(because you need to have the written text in sight) are of flaubertian proportions. A fairly extended vocabulary, pretty disturbing flows, mechanical, post-industrial. Grab your rationing helmet, because although aligning the words may be an easy endeavor, making sense of it is a turmoil fit of a tar swimmer.
Although Ras Kass has more of an mythological flow, his lyrics may be compared to Baxter's. Something doesn't allow me to utter these words without adding that Baxter is somehow less anchored in the mundane. Above his peers? He is. A bit unpopular? I believe so. Who would approve such verbal rebellion?
Let's hope the listeners. Enjoy '...so we ate them whole', Jam Baxter's newest album on songs.to!