To say that British producer and frequent Brown collaborator Paul White‘s production work on this record was unconventional would be an understatement; in fact, one would be hard pressed to find an album in any mainstream genre that sounds quite as strange as this (maybe something by Aphex Twin). The album’s sonic textures tend towards the jangly, ambiguous and amorphous; it succeeds at being dark and murky without being physically or metaphysically oppressive, for the most part, until Danny wants you to feel oppressed. Detroit techno, Joy Division, 80’s pop, Wu-Tang-esque boom-bap horror-rap, and nitrous-y existential disassociation devolve into herky-jerky menace reminiscent of Captain Beefheart, and solipsistic freak-existential despair ala Marilyn Manson. Certainly, few if any hip-hop albums have ever sounded this wacked-out, but Danny tries to play it off, spitting undaunted flows over idiosyncratic beats, and wildly experimental instrumentation and production that most MCs (including great ones) wouldn’t even think of fucking around on, much less putting out for public consumption. Thankfully, those other MCs aren’t Danny Brown.