Meat Number 5 - Low Flying Planes - Album Review

By: Joel Frieders

Meat Number 5 is weird.

Not weird in a "oh this shit sounds weird" or "man these guys must be vegan" or "I hear a bit of lactose intolerance in their snare" or anything like that.

No, Meat Number 5 is a weird pairing of two muthafuckers. You have the producer, Ricky Ropesack, or Rope as I will refer to him throughout this review. Rope is known for dark, haunting, grumpy, gruff, and disturbing lofi beats that are normally concocted using the sounds of actual cleavers striking actual bones. Rope is an enigma, walking a fine line between downright scary, and hilariously sinister. Then you have Big Once, a world champion DJ who is both one of the most sought after entertainers in Chicago because of his energetic and inspirational disc jockey skills, and the most requested hot yoga instructor at the Chicago Yoga Center two years running.

The two personalities are vastly different. Rope constructs cloudy days, dank basements and hooded sweatshirts for your ears. Big Once cuts Dirty South samples and occasionally bounces his shoulders while saying "Prrrrrrrr". They shouldn't make much sense musically, but it's that odd coupling of approaches that makes Meat Number 5 a fat motherfucking steak of deliciousness to listen to.

Low Flying Planes from Meat Number 5 is the next installment in their "stare out the window, nod your head and make wicky wicky motions with your hands" series. I for one, fucking love it. Yes, it's brooding and intimidating at some points, but what's awesome about a moody bottom is that whoever gets the privilege of messing around on top has plenty to work with. It's almost as if these two dudes have entered into a civil partnership together and they've learned through their many years together (before it was legal) what works and what doesn't.

Rope beats with Big Once scratches and twiddles fucking works.

Cops Shouldn't Use Lights is probably my favorite track on the album, but only after the opening track Bubbling In The Basement, but only because I'm a sucker for shoulder bouncing, but only because Big Once is a trill muthafucker, but only because Rope taught him how to be trill using only facial expressions, but only because Rope doesn't speak 'Merca.

Rope speak, but only with grunts, barks and whistles.

Bele dat.