Lip Critic comes out of Heaven’s gate swinging on their debut Hex Dealer.
On Hex Dealer, the debut release from New York four-piece Lip Critic, religious spectacle meets hardcore experimentalism to create one of the year’s loudest and most ferocious releases. Comprised of two drummers, one producer and sampler, and one vocalist, the four SUNY Purchase grads push the boundaries of storytelling and insanity.
Hex Dealer delves into religious corruption with lead singer Bret Kaser playing with the concept of two characters throughout the 31-minute album—the believer and the preacher. The believer is a directionless follower, constantly consuming, hoping to buy himself a piece of happiness, like purchasing a new pair of jeans on the album’s opener, “It’s The Magic,” and constantly comparing himself to others. The believer looks up to this preacher type, with Kasner admitting to steadfast admiration of this God-like figure on the punchy breakcore track, “Milky Max:” “In he walks/With his hands behind his back/He’s that Barbie-movie Ken/He seems to have all that I lack.”
The preacher-type is entirely self-aware of his power and makes it evident to the listener that he’s just entertaining these thoughts for the money. It’s as slimy as it is satirical, with tracks like “Spirit Bomber” and “Death Lurking” gleefully boasting about making a few bucks off some spiritual believers and “Love Will Redeem You,” creating false promises over a cartoonish industrial instrumental as the preacher shares his message over television screens (“My HDMI leads to the heavens buttons pushed/I exist to please”). “Bork Pelly,” featuring the now-defunct experimental project GHÖSH and rapper iD-sus, poke fun at the ridiculousness of religious scams: “Take this flesh and take this wine/It will all be yours/And you’ll all be mine/For three easy payments of $19.99.”
“Sermon,” which features some of the band’s most experimental sounds throughout their discography, sees the preacher go on the ultimate power trip and pat himself on the back for the work he does over a droning, building beat (“I’ve made water in the desert/Put the roof back on a home”). The song sees this Preacher-type manipulate his followers, telling them they are all Chosen Ones: “Because I chose you from the second you were born/When the egg met the sperm in the womb of the world.” Kaser devolves into horrifyingly aggressive vocals over pulsating drums, coaxing his followers to continue to give money (“Just creep into your wallet/And your grandma’s wedding ring”) and preying on their lack of confidence over hardcore instrumentals that draw on the intensity of a Show Me The Body track.
Hex Dealer is at its strongest when the roles of the characters reverse closer toward the end of the album– the preacher gripes with the guilt he feels from his actions while the believer. Although the moments are few and far between, the preacher drops the scuzzy façade of a Jimmy Swaggart Megachurch-type and genuinely acknowledges the pain he causes in the second half of “Spirit Bomber,” with Kasner viciously stating, “Trapped in it/I’m trapped in it/I’ve chosen my sick life.” On the album closer, “Toxin Dodger,” the preacher admits his words are practically worthless, and there is a strong feeling of guilt, but it’s wholly weighed out by how drawn to the money the character is. The track is elevated by Connor Kleitz’s insane production, who makes the song the musical equivalent of doing a line and then absolutely bodying a 200cc round of “Mario Kart” on Rainbow Road.
Countering this, the believer experiences extreme ego death in a very likely place to experience that sort of thing: a Wawa. On “In the Wawa (Convinced I’m a God),” Kasner kicks and screams as he realizes his lot in life (“I said I wouldn’t do it, but I’m stuck in my condition/No matter what I choose my timeline is a prison”) over wriggly samples and belligerently mind-melting drumming from Danny Eberle and Ilan Natter. The believer realizes what kind of person the preacher is on “I’m Alive,” sharing his ultimate plan to get his lick back with the audience: “Take a loan and find somebody else to blame/This time I’ll be the one who won’t repay/I’d love to leave you high and dry for a change.” The scathing nature of the track embodies the anger that builds throughout the album and finally reaches its tipping point.
At its core, Hex Dealer is a deeply unserious album that values creativity and embraces the raw talent of the quartet to the point it circles back to being completely serious. Absurd and ambitious, but never annoying, Lip Critic seamlessly blends breakcore, hip-hop, rock, electronica and pure noise to create a loose concept album so distinctly unique—and so distinctly Lip Critic.
Grade: A
Listen to “Toxin Dodger” off of Hex Dealer here: