RZA: RZA Presents: Bobby Digital and the Pit of Snakes Album Releases


As an emcee, The RZA is already a ruthless diplomat from a few people who would try and destroy it. His tone is the first you listen to on Enter the Wu-Tang (36. Chambers), the order “BRING THE MOTHERFUCKING RUCKUS” apparently a signal from hell; while he barrels onto Ghostface’s “Stroke at Death” ( “SMACK THE JAIL BAILS BONDSMAN, STRENGTH OF 18 BRONZEMEN”), You wonder if the air jails might even be able to hold him?. From behind the panels, Staten Island icon’s production work can be doctored, yet clever. But on the headset he’s normally an avowed realist. This is not limited to groups, fundraisers or visitor locations: His vocals have exploded, 1998 Bobby Digital in Stereo, RZA assumed the role of the protagonist, rider in a bomb proof car “Digimobile” with weapons of comic size, nothing more than a f0 for managing them.

This hero is the subject of the Abbot’s latest project, RZA Presents: Bobby Digital and the Pit of Snakes, the eight-song musical to true comics. But while the headline evokes several of the most wonderfully wrongheaded scenes of RZA’s collection the headline is also a direct reference to the “relative” “rap”, Mark feels irritated and subdued: The songs ‘over-considered forms abandon only enough space for croons that very often stay diligently to The predicted narrative surpassed. Within which the best RZA music awkwardly enjamb his desire, thank you for understanding, and arrogance into one another, intersecting them in a manner that makes a mockery of comfortably parsing, these features are sporadically dished out and they’re almost uniformly monotonous. And it wrought trepidation, blended with many of his crappiest indie-rock indulging, creates a mark that’s less than the total of its now spare parts. RZA croons of Bobby Digital in “Pit of Snakes”, the first passage of the series, including what might just as quickly be a representation of his own jobs: “This is just a fraction of his abilities.”

That opening song, “Under the Sun” the second passage creates movement almost completely through its phonetics; we know it’s going to be more pressing when we listen to Bobby “attack the shack with a pack of black German Shepherds” — but also exemplifies the direction in which the music cuts their own movement. The two passages are isolated by nearly a minute and a split of saccharine guest vocals nearly indistinguishable from The people that deter “Trouble Shooting” and “Cowards.” “We see the world grow, change, and decay” Cody Nierstedt sings on the LP “Under the Sun”; the line’s literality is an offence to a song that supposedly reports a cyborg’s fondness for slap-boxing animals.

It is not difficult to imagine a more convincingly fleshed-out version of “Pit of Snakes”, where the pressure implied here between the sturdy natural world and our alive digital ahff has been discovered in much more controversial directions. On “Something Going On” RZA style questions – “Would you rather have a smartphone, or a smart child?” it would be a good thing, inside another setting, be the start of a debate that expanded into far more ridiculous; here it is installed in the pun to a repetition stand-up slightly. A piece of Bobby Digital’s small sentimental conflicts was indeed documented with a big, honest-evil, solitary vignette, intentional take ( “The sky may fall and worlds may shake/Our bond of friendships, I’ll never break down”). The RZA has often been involved in the war, at least in the 21st century, remained demided as overbearing, someone who needs to be brought in and updated. Bobby Digital and the Pit of Snakes is just the reverse: a small mark that would be far more participating if it best personifies its author’s weirdness.