With this the fifth of Aesop Rock’s (Ian Bavitz to his friends) full-length LP’s, he shows that his stock is still on the rise, rather than on a long perilous descent.

Not only is the content of the album still important to hear and as relevant as ever, but also the overall quality of the final production is as tight as a snare drum.

When listening to the LP, it’s easy to get drowned in the amount of elements being thrown your way. The narration and samples intertwine with each other on such a level it proves difficult to listen without being carried away on a completely different plain. It makes for great entertainment, but if you’re looking for deeper messages, you have to work up a mental sweat to get there.

It’s a hell of a lot of fun doing so though. There aren’t too many other ways to open an album and make an instant impact like Keep Off The Lawn and title track None Shall Pass. If you’re looking for and endorphin rush, then you’ll find it in these two without hesitation.

With the formers’ line of “Happy to be breathing/Happy to be alive” resonating in your skull, you’re almost at a loss to hear a beat that sounds like it’s been constructed around Rage Against The Machine’s catalogue brazenly placed on top, whilst None Shall Pass can be best described by clicking here.

Aesop’s delivery throughout is concise and brain twisting. The attention to detail on the phonetics and iambic delivery is almost impossible to comprehend. It’s smooth, truthful and right on the button with every statement. Some of the best examples are on another four particular tunes.

Catacomb Kids, Gun For The Whole Family, No City and Dark Heart News all pitch a hypnotic line as songs are changed in tempo to re-create the slow death of an Energiser bunny, through to re-creating a modern day sleaze city to rival A Streetcar Named Desire.

Certain elements and topics are often elevated through either the music, or the particular rap on regular occasions. Bring Back Pluto and Fumes centre on the issue of drugs, whilst Getaway Car and 39 Thieves dig up a dark distrust and mental instability under both 1950’s and 1970’s stylistics.

The Harbor Is Yours and Citronella fall from one into another both musically and numerically, with a style that surrounds a swashbuckling metaphor on the first, and a stab at the media on the second, and Coffee is constructed around a simple b-boy beat that works insanely well.

It’s all powerful and enjoyable stuff, if you give it patience. It’s not going to appeal to all because it takes time to unlock and devour, and it could do with a little trimming in places as it is on the heavy side, but there’s no doubting quality when it smacks you in the face.

It’s well worth a purchase.