This isn’t a song you put on to feel good. Right away, it drops with a heavy trip-hop infused beat that just crawls, a signature ride cymbal, and a beat that feels like a thick smoke. Every hit is drowned in spacey reverb and heavy compression making all the sharp edges completely gone.
Underneath all that, the chords barely move. No fancy changes or big surprises. Just a minimal 4 chords progression driven by the bass guitar, repeating over and over, moody, dark, and smoky as hell. The vocals keep shifting around, too, and nothing sounds clean. One minute it sounds like someone yelling through a cheap megaphone, the next it turns into a robotic vocoder, and then it drops into plain spoken word. You never really get to relax.
“Tabula rasa is Latin for blank slat” says Lotardo. “I wrote the first verse as a poem after an ICE agent shot and killed Renee Good in Minneapolis in January.”
You can really feel that anger and tension in the music. We do live in dark times. And there is no light at the end of the tunnel.
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