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An album that accepts its imperfections as a part of its charm, and, all things considered, a pretty irresistible release.
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The record is a virtuosic display of talent (I don’t even know what sounds I’m hearing on the chorus of “Juliann Wilding”) but it comes across both too eager to impress and too self-satisfied to edit.
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It’s just brilliant.
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FilterWith Afterparty Babies, he proves he truly belongs on the other side of the speakers. [Winter 2008, p.105]
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Rollie has yet to find his voice, though.
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The boring beats and throwback rhyme flow (circa 92)--which is weak even by Edmontonian standards--put Afterparty Babies somewhere beneath Don Cash’s home demos and the outtakes from Organized Rhyme’s Huh? Stiffenin’ Against The Wall.
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Straight out of Edmonton, Alberta, fast-talking MC Rollie Pemberton's impeccable second album confirms that the history of Canadian electro did not end with Neil Young's Trans.
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As a knowing send-up of youth culture, Afterparty Babies can be both funny and obnoxious.
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If the satisfying Afterparty Babies doesn't have the same thunderclap impact of its predecessors, it's because that element of adventure is subdued.
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Pemberton has solidified the distinctive elements of his style on Afterparty Babies—but in so doing, he’s perhaps narrowed Cadence Weapon’s appeal.
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Over and over, we get the sense that Cadence makes records for that gaggle of kids on the album cover, for the look on their faces. If any of the rest of us likes it, all the better. It works: We’d like to know more about Mr. Weapon, and his buds.
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Q MagazineA dense, innovative follow-up to Canadian MC Rollie Pemberton's promising 2005 debut. [Apr 2008, p. 112]
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He's already sophisticated enough to paste lines about real heartbreak onto chunky, melodic beats ("True Story"), then turn around and be an equally passionate goofball ("Getting Dumb"). Leaning toward the latter could make him a star outside the backpack circuit.
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Throughout, Pemberton comes off like a clever friend who just happens to be lyrically gifted: He's the perfect hip-hop hero for the MySpace age.
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Pemberton doesn't strain to impress. He doesn't need to: his darting intelligence and racing imagination are evident in every line.
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He backs up his insolence with dense, tricky productions that pile samples and scratching atop techno and electro beats and go increasingly haywire as he gets more worked up.
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Pemberton’s lyrics can be long-winded, but on the whole, they display a postmodern reflexivity that is profoundly mind-boggling.
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UncutThe raw machine clap has been replced by Chaotic deconstruction of house music. It's a frequently awkward fit, lacking the fluid styling that makes the best hip hop. [Apr 2008, p.84]
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Under The RadarHis arrangements this time range froma a cappella loops and glitchy beats to videogame synyths and deconstructed dance grooves, adding up to an indie hip-hop classic. [Winter 2008, p.90]
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His latest outing, Afterparty Babies, doesn't derail that path, but it struggles to stay on course.
User score distribution:
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Positive: 7 out of 7
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Mixed: 0 out of 7
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Negative: 0 out of 7
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BryanH.Mar 6, 2008
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MattA.Mar 5, 2008