We use cookies to help you navigate efficiently and perform certain functions. You will find detailed information about all cookies under each consent category below.
The cookies that are categorized as "Necessary" are stored on your browser as they are essential for enabling the basic functionalities of the site. ...
Necessary cookies are required to enable the basic features of this site, such as providing secure log-in or adjusting your consent preferences. These cookies do not store any personally identifiable data.
Functional cookies help perform certain functionalities like sharing the content of the website on social media platforms, collecting feedback, and other third-party features.
Analytical cookies are used to understand how visitors interact with the website. These cookies help provide information on metrics such as the number of visitors, bounce rate, traffic source, etc.
Performance cookies are used to understand and analyze the key performance indexes of the website which helps in delivering a better user experience for the visitors.
Advertisement cookies are used to provide visitors with customized advertisements based on the pages you visited previously and to analyze the effectiveness of the ad campaigns.
Lost Lake Presents Open Mike Eagle with Cavalier and Rhys Langston on Thursday, July 17 —
Open Mike Eagle found comedy in contemporary American horrors on albums like 2014’s Dark Comedy and catharsis in exposing his past on 2020’s Anime, Trauma, and Divorce. Now, the incisive, hilarious, and idiosyncratic purveyor of art rap praised by The New York Times, Pitchfork, and The New Yorker manipulates time like Dr. Strange on his new album, Component System with the Auto Reverse.
Eagle’s eighth solo LP, CSWTAR is grounded in our dystopian present but structured with the magical randomness of cassette mixtapes he made recording college rap radio shows in the late ’90s. It was an era of supreme braggadocio and countless lyrical styles, the lines between boasts offering insight into Black American neighborhoods. Eagle made CSWTAR in this spirit. Unstuck in time, he spits his sharpest stream-of-consciousness darts while watching his younger self bop to the music that informed them. No two songs traverse the same ground, but Eagle splices in actual commercials and radio interviews from his old mixtapes to connect the dots, his keen sociopolitical analysis and obscure pop culture allusions serving as temporal poles. In the same breath, he airs grievances about current police corruption and alludes to long-retired Chicago Bulls players. Every anachronism provides a new perspective on today.
Keeping with the purposeful surprise and structure, CSWTAR is scored by crashing doom-filled hard rock flips from Madlib, Diamond D’s thumping jazz-inflected boom-bap, twisted cartoon-sampled suites via Quelle Chris, and more progressive production. Eagle turns these disparate sounds into a cohesive whole, equally at home rhyming on minimalist electronic soundscapes and parodying an animated stereo store proprietor over thundering drums and grinding guitar. A master of his vocal range, he effortlessly moves in and out of conversational and intricate technical delivery, inflecting with abandon and assurance before pivoting to half-sung hooks. There are more time-bending spells in Eagle’s grimoire, but he’s never shown listeners so many so effectively.