“Detroit’s own Red Pill has been perfecting his craft”- Urb
Look What This World Did To Us.” The command is rhetorical. You’re
already aware of the echo, the generational discontent and alienation, the
whispered and denied calls for absolution. No need to look around, just check
your bank account and sigh—or echo Biggie and scream, “fuck the world.” Or
melt into the couch and absorb Red Pill’s debut for Mello Music Group—a
novel disguised as an album, a surly hymn from poisoned lungs. It’s a
confirmation of what John Cage once declared: “all great art is a form
of complaint.“
Your favourite song will be determined by what theme you relate to most. Look What This World Did To Us is in league with the best of early Atmosphere or Open Mike Eagle’s Dark Comedy, a modern hustle of machinery and migraines. A commemoration of going a quarter century without a foundation and an acknowledgement of the nerves that accompany a future built atop fault lines. These are the late night conversations you have with your friends. The idle nights and empty bottles, the hard questions that come after you realize the world might not be yours.