Flying Lotus - 'Los Angeles' (Warp) Released 09/06/08

This is what an entry in the hip hop cookbook might read. Construct a crafty beat, add a dollop of MCs to chat shit on top, sprinkle in a pinch of hooks, marinade for an hour or two in the production booth and bam, you’re in the hip hop business. Los Angeles-based beats boffin Flying Lotus clearly hasn’t consulted said tome. Having already chucked out the rhymes, the wonky, angular offerings contained on ‘Los Angeles’ are about as far from conventional rap as it’s possible to get without ditching the beats altogether.

But hip hop this undeniably is, albeit of the variety that takes great pleasure in ripping the rulebook and roadmap to shreds whilst keeping some of the key ingredients – an unabashed devotion to the beat, for example – intact. It’s the culmination of the evolution wherein instrumental hip hop treks from the obsessive crate-digging and retro building blocks of DJ Shadow towards the forward-gazing electronica innovation and abstract beats-craft of Clark and Four Tet, with a bit of the haunted melancholy of Burial thrown in for extra ambience. As such, these tracks won’t make frequent appearances in champagne-swigging high-end clubs. In fact, trying to nod your head along to the off-kilter, stuttering rhythms of ‘Breathe’ – imagine a CD with a terrible skipping problem, only with outcomes incredibly exciting rather than annoying – would most likely result in a neck injury. Experimentation-proof high-profile mic-hoggers are unlikely to be queuing outside Steven Ellington‘s (as the name on Flying Lotus’ passport reads) door for some commercial gold dust either, as interesting as it would be to hear, say, Snoop Dogg attempt to wrap his lazy drawl around the album’s prevailing nocturnal clatter.

But mainstream’s loss is the discerning listeners’ gain. Dark, moody and seemingly constructed in some secret subterranean lair in the dead of night, ‘Los Angeles’ is hip hop fit for providing the soundtrack to the end of times. In some ways, it’s also the evil twin of the groovy late-60’s love & peace vibes of De La Soul’s ‘Three Feet High & Rising’, revel as it does in the nightmarish, twisted bad trip reverse to the celebrated masterpiece’s sunny side of psychedelia. From the gritty groove of ‘Melt!’ to the dubstep-y underground drone of ‘Riot’ and the cowbell-clanging party beats of ‘Parisian Goldfish’, the first half of the album is pretty powerful stuff. But it’s Ellington‘s realisation that the appeal of introspective moodiness has its limits that ensures ‘Los Angeles’ really reaches the higher ground.

The futuristic soul-electronica hybrid of ‘RobertaFlack’, the hypnotically intense sermon of Gonja Sufi-starring ‘Testament’, the languid, folk-hued ‘Auntie’s Lock/Infinitum’, enriched by Laura Darlington’s serene vocal delivery, and ‘Auntie’s Harp’, which samples the late jazz giant (and Lotus‘s aunt) Alice Coltrane, allow a spot of sunlight to infiltrate the proceedings, resulting in a winningly diverse mix of jaw-dropping noise-mongering and sounds that recognise the value of disarming prettiness.