Ebola Virus 'No Redemption' 7" review

Ebola Virus ‘No Redemption’ 7” review


Hip-hop has inevitably been hijacked by the music moguls that be for manipulation in order to appeal to the moronic masses of today. At one point, however, hip-hop was one of the most potent forms of music with which to communicate. It was rhythmic, revolutionary and ultimately, real. Following the powerful messages of hip-hop pioneers Ice-T, NWA, and Public Enemy, was the alteration of the beat to sound closer to party and dance music rather than the sociopolitical statements of yesteryear. The rise in popularity in gangster rap and party hip-hop were the primary diluting forces for meaningful hip-hop. Still, there exists hope for palatable, euphonic and purposeful hip-hop; I stumbled across this four-song 7” by accident (I just liked the back cover and it was relatively cheap), and so I dusted off my turntable and set the needle on this piece of plastic I was to become all but familiar with…

Oh. My. God. Becky. I haven’t heard hip-hop this fucking good since I first heard Ice-T, and this record parallels his work in quality, undoubtedly giving the godfather of hip-hop a run for his money. This record is a philosophical declaration of war on the institution of religion, a highly electrified topic to touch upon in a hip-hop world saturated in escapism. “The Evolution of Man” is an attack on mankind’s selfish destruction of the environment for a narcissistic power trip experience at worst, and an altruistic economic jump-start at best. The narrator can be heard, frothing with rage in his rhythmic beat, accusatory and uncompromising. “No Redemption” addresses the third world poverty and how our existence is incomparable in suffering to those seeking a simplistic existence of security, survival, and synchronicity. It is the reminder of our self-centered tendency to over-exaggerate our daily sufferings, when in reality many citizens of the Earth are unable to find a way past the first two levels of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Your inability to consume alcohol legally before the age of 21 is laughably miniscule in importance when compared to the unyielding and unforgiving existence in Africa and Southeast Asia. “What They Praise” is the definite winner of the album; the narrator resumes his bubbling fury and releases his rigid rhetoric against the foundation of religious morality as the synthesizer beats in the background with a solemn tune and a somber tone. A great amount of respect ought to go out to the narrator for making these words rhyme and the beat synchronize as well as he did. Bringing the album to a close is “Your Messiah”, another anti-religion song, but instead attacks the idols of man, as they are what render him idle as an individual. The idols of man and the foundation of religious morality are separate (but related) and both deserve the philosophical treatment of being shoved into a wood-chipper and spread around so they may never corrupt another mind.

Having been exposed to multiple different kinds of rap and hip-hop, I thought I saw the end when the likes of Jim Jones, Pet Shop Boyz and Soulja Boy take the youth in my high school by storm. This record is a personal renewal of hope for the potency of hip-hop. This is one of the most entertaining and most philosophically inspiring pieces of work I’ve ever heard, running alongside the isolating anger of Black Flag and the sincere, unbridled written works of Friedrich Nietzsche. This is a must-have for anyone who has had their life touched in any way by hip-hop. It will change your life for the better.

-Aunty Social