L.A. rapper Busdriver’s fifth album is wild-eyed fun, hitching motormouthed outbursts to itchy, cluttered beats.

If Regan Farquhar, a.k.a. Busdriver, ever tires of hip hop, he can always become an auctioneer. The L.A. rapper’s fifth album is wild-eyed fun, hitching motormouthed outbursts to itchy, cluttered beats. Amidst the fury, however, one may be tempted to ask: What the hell’s he talking about? Portraying a man driven to the brink by the modern world, Busdriver has plenty to say (once you decipher the jabbering) about celebrity culture, liberal hypocrisy, consumerism, and other deserving targets, yet he shuns the self-important mantle of commentator. “I’m no Noam Chomsky / I’m a nagging teen in baggy jeans / Who fixates on thrills,” Busdriver exclaims. (Actually, Farquhar’s in his mid-20s.) Occasionally he even relaxes the tempo and adds melody to his anxious rhymes, though “Go Slow” is nightmare fodder, not a soothing diversion. Indeed, RoadKillOvercoat would never be mistaken for simple escapism—anybody chanting, “Kill your employer,” clearly isn’t courting the mainstream.


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