Elsphinx - Hazmat - Album Review

By: Tim Baker

Elsphinx is a fucking asshole.

An adorable and cuddly little prick that I want I put in a baby bjorn and have rap for me while I do household chores and call INS on my Ukrainian neighbors who I suspect might be fighting armadillos in their bathroom. His album Hazmat is like a fucking time capsule of early 90s New York underground hip hop.

Filled with murky and dark jazz sample and drums that are harder than Big Noyd, providing a perfect back drop for this asshole to lay down raps that are as complex as the are enjoyable. To round out the 90s feel Elsphinx comes in at just under 5 feet tall, which every hip hop fan knows was the legally binding height requirement of the era.

With Hazmat Elsphinx has painted a perfect introduction to his world, which is apparently a world filled with introspection, booze, LSD and bitchin' sunglasses. I have to say I was initially tepid on the idea of listening to someone that came so highly recommended. It is usually a recipe for disappointment, but in Elsphinx case it couldn't be more opposite. With each listen I grow more and more impressed an increasingly jealous of his command and creativity.

Elsphinx is one of those rare rappers who can channel the patterns and schemes of a Big Pun or Big L with the drug inspired sense of humor of Devin The Dude and splash in the personality, likability and charm of early Treach. All presented through the filter of Mitch Hedberg.

Seriously this asshole makes statements like "this is Tromaville meets the Cloverfield beast" and "experience the weirdest Tim Learyist lyricist" like they are fucking throw away lines. I am so jealous of this little prick.

The good folks at Pig Food Records are offering a killer deal - Hazmat and an Elsphinx t-shirt for $15. Get it.