| ⭐⭐⭐✨ |
Having been on the rise for much of the 2020’s now, Lip Critic seem to be as baffled by their own continuing insanity as the rest of us. Their music appears to have a strange mind of its own, darting from one schizophrenic piece of instrumentation to the next. Voice-like sounds emerge like apparitions from some hellish dimension below. Something possesses lead vocalist Bret Kaser whenever the controlling evil summons him to record. The production is as disheveled and mutant as the accompanying album artwork. If you’re yet to hear this thing, then whatever sounds your brain is conjuring up as an estimation of this thing’s sound are… mostly correct. Take that guesswork, then if you can imagine it, make it somehow more jittery and surreal. It’s like if Street Sects, Death Grips, and The B-52’s decided they suddenly wanted to collaborate on the most maddening electropunk calamity imaginable.
It is quite effective too. Gone are any notable constraints of what goes with what, Lip Critic are performing with an ecstatic sense of freedom. Tracks like “Jackpot” and “Talon” are as much pieces of legit industrial hip hop as they are traditionally punk or hardcore. Their respective breakdowns resemble something you might’ve caught on Ho99o9’s last record. Searing sonic bashings that jolt the system instead of lull the songs to a close. “My Blush” features flows and sound choices on the bridge sections that feel JPEGMAFIA-inspired (god, two reviews in a row now, he is influential!). “Legs In A Snare” could have stopped at its initial intensity level, where peppy, metallic drums and synthwork, plus gummy refrains lock in to a propulsive piece of punk rap. It too decides that its final leg needs a pick-me-up, launching into maybe the most freakish of this album’s freaky finales. To keep the momentum going, ‘Theft World’’s penultimate and ultimate tracks dig the heels in and bulldoze their way through some blistering digital hardcore. Perhaps the strongest way Lip Critic could have concluded things, “200 Bottles On Eviction” actually hits a weirdly emotional note amongst the ghoulish noise.
Given the title of the record, its significance across the tracklist, Lip Critic successfully carries this concept of thievery from beginning to end. Not just in the literal, burglary sense, but also metaphorical, personal, political and in a way, even spiritual theft. This fixation on theft stems from an experience that Bret had, in which a super fan convinced of hidden messages in their music, essentially stole Bret Kaser’s identity, right before Lip Critic were prepping to release a record. The story goes that they sat down with this person, interviewed them, and used the assailants’ talking points as material for a brand new album, scrapping the previous one entirely. This is the kind of thing that separates musicians from artists. The choice to turn such dire turmoil into a twisted, kooky, beautiful hodge-podge of an album is about as punk as it gets, and is the kind of creative decision-making that will set Lip Critic apart from even their most decorated contemporaries. Though far from perfect, and not without its moments of musical and temporal brevity, ‘Theft World’ generally does the trick as a stimulating bump of the most potent short-term amphetamine, and is a massive step in the right direction for this group.
Dan Will Review 