CLPPNG is a dark, often difficult record. It’s despair; it’s disgust; it’s the acrid sting of bile in the back of your throat. It wields its malignant soundscape — a swirl of hard-edged textures, a maelstrom of noise — not as an outcry of aggression (though there is anger here), but as a manifesto of abrasiveness. This is an antisocial mission statement, a paean to and a screed against commercialism and narcissism that leaves the listener destabilized; adrift.
clipping.’s producers, William Hutson and Jonathan Snipes, expand upon the experimental, musique concrète hip hop sound they established in the skeletal Midcity through musculature. Their debut was a spacious record: desolation evoking an abandoned warehouse at the outskirts of a failing city, vocalist Daveed Diggs spitting and raging at its darkened centre amongst twisted shopping trolleys and discarded syringes. CLPPNG is a denser beast, a robust piece of production that trades the sparseness of Midcity for a bilious sea. Their second album is both less sonically cohesive and more conventional than Midcity, but it is a necessary evolution of their sound that finds coherence in Diggs’ lyrics.