...Review Kill the Architect, by Cage

Aren’t You Too Old To Write About Rap?

Probably. When I was younger, so was rap, and so were rappers. The idea of a rapper over forty, or even in his thirties, was ridiculous, especially for a genre so heavily identified with anger and rebellion. But rap, to the chagrin of its critics and everyone’s parents, ended up lasting and, like any art form, the experience and maturity of its elder statesmen now bring something to it that younger rappers cannot. This year alone has seen a number of industry veterans release albums and, generally, their talent has shown through. Age isn’t seen as a deterrent anymore.

But, yeah, I’m coming close to 40, so you might be right.

Why Write About Cage?

Well, I’ve done it before. Cage’s music was the focus of my graduate thesis, so I spent a couple of years analyzing his lyrics; those were a dark couple of years, actually. He’s an important, underrated and under-appreciated artist, and deserves a wide audience. Although maybe he’d hate that. I don’t know. I just find his music interesting.

Is Cage More Cheerful Than The Last Rapper You Wrote About?

More than any other rapper, Cage has a gift for bringing nihilism to life. Rap (and some harder rock) has had an infamous number of practitioners try to offend or disturb audiences, to the extent that a subgenre was born, but Cage stands above those categorizations (even when he is credited as their pioneer). In fact, his ability to paint a discomfiting image extends beyond rappers – I’d put him in the same category as writers like Bret Easton Ellis or Charles Bukowski or Garth Ennis, or the film work of Lars von Trier. Like those artists, that ability is understandably controversial, but brutally uncompromising, unique, and usually imitated to lesser results.

So Why Is Cage So Dark?

As he occasionally alludes to in his music, Cage’s attitude comes from a wildly-abusive childhood that saw him eventually committed to an asylum; I’m not going to go into detail here, but you can listen to Too Heavy for Cherubs or In Stoney Lodge to learn more. Or read the bio on his web site.

While some rappers turn away from their identity, Cage’s new album shows that he has sunk deeper into his, to the point that he released the album with his old label, Eastern Conference Records. And the new album is good.

Really? What Makes Kill The Architect Good? Some Guy On Youtube Hated It.

The music is sparse, but occasionally sparsely beautiful, and perfectly suited for the rapper. Cage has always rapped like someone who realizes he’s being constantly lied to, and that his refusal to accept lies will eventually destroy him. As he says in the opening lyrics of The Hunt, “I cut my heart open for you, so I can feel it bleed.”

The Hunt is probably the album’s most ready-made single, with a minimalized chorus consisting of a lonely haunting voice singing “I don’t need you” and Cage responding “Sure you do.” Which, really, has been the essence of Cage since day one, and his rebellion from systems that demand servitude. Voices call to him, he calls to others, and the response is invariably silence or violence. The manifesto Cage wrote in Agent Orange, where the young rapper forcefully expressed his disillusion with both science and religion, is etched in stone with Kill the Architect.

What Else?

Haunting references to Jim Jones, David Koresh, Joseph Smith, Aleister Crowley and others, as well as lines like “Only prey will pray” demonstrate Cage’s traditional disdain for organized systems of belief – others, of course, have done the same, but rarely as well.

These are trappings – the identity of Cage, as illustrated in The Death of Chris Palko, was born in a failed system, and rather than escape and change, the image of Cage that comes to mind is of a mental patient standing in a room and helplessly screaming. And even though you want Cage to escape these surroundings, and to leave some of the less desirable aspects of his music behind (like a resurfacing misogyny, or a light that exclusively illuminates unhappiness)…four or so albums later, you get the sense that Cage never will, that he is so bound to Stoney Lodge parts of him will never escape its walls.

So Cage Is A One-Trick Pony?

Not at all. His talent has grown, but critics constantly make the mistake of considering growth the same thing as a change in content. They couldn’t be more wrong. F. Scott Fitzgerald explained it best:

“Mostly, we authors repeat ourselves – that’s the truth. We have two or three great and moving experiences in our lives – experiences so great and moving that it doesn’t seem at the time that anyone else has been so caught up and pounded and dazzled and astonished and beaten and broken and rescued and illuminated and rewarded and humbled in just that way ever before. Then we learn our trade, well or less well, and we tell our two or three stories – each time in a new disguise – maybe ten times, maybe a hundred, as long as people will listen.”

 So I Should Buy This Album?

I think so. You might not like it, and I get that. Some people don’t like rap and never will. Some people find Cage off-putting. I’m the type of person who thinks A Clockwork Orange (an early influence for Cage) is brilliant, and I have very smart and talented friends who despise the book. That’s cool.

But the question of audience isn’t one I’ve considered when it comes to Cage. I’m not sure who his music is for. Probably for himself. Probably for the scared person who’s been terrorized or bullied, and needs a voice for their anger. Or a contemporary audience that finds itself balancing between paranoia and fury. I don’t know. Maybe it’s not for a person, or a time, but rather an emotion, the anger and anguish that comes when you eventually cut your own heart open.

EA