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MC Trachiotomy - W/Love from Tahiti

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Artist: MC Trachiotomy

Album: W/Love from Tahiti

Label: Bulb

Review date: Aug. 29, 2002

Deep throat?


While you’re watching the evening news, MC Trachiotomy is most likely receiving today’s memo from planet QX-19. A pixilated mess of a concept album, just about everything on his second album W/ Love From Tahiti is daffy. As the promotional notes that came with the album earnestly put it “MC Trachiotomy has a following in both the U.S. and Europe.” As if that line isn’t suspect enough, the slapped-together-last-night, one-page liner notes inform the listener that “CAUTION: This is ‘THE’ baby-makin’ music.” The small following that he gained following the release of his debut Robot, Alien or Ghost should expect more of his brand of whatever this type of music is called while the majority of the newly-introduced microaudience that this album should receive will probably not like one minute of it. This is not easy listening. Caveat emptor.

That said, there are so many things wrong with this thing that it’s almost sublime. Starting with the low-rent parody of a No Limit album cover and ending with the personal web address that serves as the official MC Trachiotomy homepage, it’s ugly everywhere in between. The recording quality is terrible, tracks 16 through 20 are unnamed because there wasn’t enough space on the back cover to scrawl out some sexy titles for them and about three-quarters of the time the listener isn’t going to know what the hell MC Trachiotomy is mumbling about. When you can make out his soupy New Orleans-accented voice (which might be a put-on) over the politely termed sound-collages which act as beats, the weirdness of Trachiotomy’s delivery and subject matter tells you that something is very wrong. It’s not hip hop. It’s not spoken word. It’s not quite a drug-induced conscience rambling at you. But he is talking about fucking your girlfriend at a Motel 6.

MC Trachiotomy could be Dr. Dooom’s older, drunker uncle. He’s more borderline than Ol’ Dirty Bastard but seems less likely to smash a 40-oz. bottle over your head when angered. Who would suspect that the outrageously afro’ed white guy in a Nathaniel Hornblower fake moustache gets his freak on thusly: “If I don’t get you out / I’m gonna sit you down / I’m gonna feel you / feel you out / (unintelligible) / I wanna take you on an airplane / To Honolulu” ?

The lyrics on W/ Love From Tahiti, like the previous example from the first track “EKG,” revolve around sex and are consistently opaque. The beats that slouch and groan along behind them usually fare no better. Perhaps a snippet from Steve Martin’s The Jerk inserted here and some tinny piano from a garage sale there may be the rule, but there are a few moments on the album that come together. “Palpitations,” a low-fi bounce track featuring Bisquittino, is the one of a few proper raps and stands out simply because Bisquittino rhymes on beat. MC Trachiotomy flexes his skills on track 18, an under-underground club bumper which is about…anyone’s guess. On track 16, MC Trachiotomy recalls an experience with PCP. Surprisingly, considering the subject matter, this track has one of the most coherent storylines on the album, ending with his observation that pterodactyls tend to hover around paddy wagons.

On top of these songs, there are two minor gems embedded in the sometimes depressingly thick rough of this album. Lyrically, the most interesting track is entitled “Along th’ Coast,” which features someone, possibly MC Trachiotomy himself without the pimp accent, doing a unexpectedly gripping play-by-play of a race car changing tires during a pit stop. Debating whether or not this is a metaphor for his machine-like sexual prowess is similar to counting the number of angels dancing on the head of a pin after taking into account how far-out this album is. “Long to Hold You” is the most unsettling and potent of all of the songs, pairing a pretty beat with a harsh, distorted sample of what could be a Chuck Norris action movie or something more insidious. The loud crashes and muffled voices sound like they were lifted from a violent fight, bringing to mind, disturbingly, wife-battering or even rape. MC Trachiotomy’s verse following the introduction is completely indecipherably and he sounds like he is on the verge of crying. “Good night,” he croaks towards the end of the piece before the sound of a woman’s voice trails off into the distance. “Hi! Why the gloom? It’s not the end of the rainbow!” a man chipperly announces just before the track ends.

MC Trachiotomy making emotionally resonant music like “Long to Hold You” is strangely the weirdest part of his act. Often W/ Love From Tahiti feels like part of a larger crotch-grabbing shtick where he gets the last laugh by way of not writing lyrics per se. The mood of “Long to Hold You” is so dark it sticks out conspicuously and one wonders what it’s doing there on an otherwise pretty silly album. On the other hand, his use of phatic speech creates a window of interpretation so broad that his audience can do with it what it likes. One thing is frightening about his steez, though. The gulf between sincerity and irony is large and troublesome. Maybe it’s not worth worrying about.

By Noah Zimmerman

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