Brad OH Inc. Featured on ‘GonzoToday’

cropped-cropped-blogbanner13.jpgToday on Brad OH Inc., we have a special item for all our dear readers. Rather than a new weekly post, we’re happy to share this article we’ve published through our good friends at GonzoToday.

Writing about the Insane Clown Posse and their ongoing legal battle against the FBI is nothing new for us, but when we were offered a chance to write something for a site like GonzoToday, we were happy to take the opportunity. Needless to say, this is a GonzoToday exclusive, and cannot be posted here (see publishers…we’re open to negotiations!), so follow the link below and check out our new article, ‘The Clown in Chief and the Juggalo Army’.

Click Here for Article.

-Brad OH Inc.

There Are Clowns?

The Gentleman Juggalo LogoThere are Clowns,

Among the trees,

In fields and bushes,

Where nobody sees. 

There are Clowns,

Out for the young,

Bent on killing their songs,

Long before they are sung.  

There are Clowns,

Outside of the school,

Their hellish grins asking,

Just who is the fool?

But there are Clowns in police cars,

And Clowns in the courts,

Clowns on the TV,

Reading news reports.

There are Clowns on the left,

And Clowns on the right,

Clowns that will lie to you,

Or tell you to fight.

 There are Clowns in the papers,

And Clowns at the prow,

Of our ship as we ponder,

Where we’re to go now.

There are Clowns who will promise,

Everything is fine,

And Clowns who will tell you,

Not to waste your time.

Clowns that will claim,

It’s all under control,

But those Clowns are demure,

When it’s time to console.

There are Clowns on the streets,

Clowns under our beds,

Clowns running our countries,

Clowns filling our heads.

Yes there are Clowns,

In all sorts of places,

But the Clowns I fear most,

Do not paint their faces.

 

This poem was inspired by the recent ‘Time’ Article by Violent J, which you can read here (Link).

 

-Brad OH Inc.

On Juggalos and Fanaticism

The Gentleman Juggalo LogoNothing I do elicits more abject disdain than my passionate enjoyment of the Insane Clown Posse. ‘Enjoyment’ may be a slight understatement mind you, I am a self-proclaimed Juggalo, and that comes with some pretty loaded implications.

Childish insults and hateful slurs aside, Juggalos are known for taking their musical-affections a step beyond most other fan-bases. In fact, I’ve heard it justly claimed that for Juggalos, the term ‘fan’ is short for ‘fanatical’. It’s as apt an analogy as any I could come up with, so I’m happy to appropriate it here—it’s true, Juggalos almost to the last are entirely fanatical about their love of ICP.

But behind this trend of obsession and fanaticism lies a deeper insight into the nature of the music—one perhaps that can be applied more broadly to all those things which bring some small sub-sect of people to their knees while being lost entirely on everyone else. A key part of this is the high entry point of the music, due to its very nature.

ICP are often accused of being vulgar, juvenile, or much worse. None of these labels are entirely untrue, but they also miss a big part of the picture, and the entire context. One of the chief reminders I give to people attacking the artistic merit of ICP is to consider what the letters stand for—they advertise it right up front; they are clowns.

So the silly and obscene is all a part of the act, but it’s the larger theme of this act which represents the buy-in, and that comes only to listeners who hang around long enough to read the brightly coloured writing on the big top walls.

You see, beneath the greasepaint and pantomime there is a much greater sense of sincerity that most casual listeners miss completely. It was Oscar Wilde who once claimed ‘give a man a mask and he’ll tell you the truth,’ and there could be no more perfect proof of this platitude than ICP. By donning their outlandish personalities and presenting their ideas as revelations from the ‘Dark Carnival’, ICP create a farcical mirror of reality through which they can comment on the deeper realities of life.

Each album is created around a central, all-encompassing theme: usually grounded in notions of facing your own sin after death, karmic retributions, and personal accountability. On each album, these themes are explored through songs shifting in perspective, point of view, and more often than not, even through the eyes of briefly encountered and little explored alter egos. Some songs will be bright, cheery, and seemingly of little substance, while others will be aggressive and dark—with the clowns claiming in the first person to commit heinous acts and hold despicable beliefs.

Seldom is the intention spelled out plainly, and the ICP leave it up to their listeners to sort out the clues and piece together the bigger picture. A lifetime of listening can certainly make this an easy process, but if a song like ‘You Should Know’ (Link) is your first introduction to the band, it’s understandable you’d be left with a pretty bad taste in your mouth.

Truly, to hear any single song out of context, one could easily assume some pretty awful things about the motivations and beliefs of the duo—and their fan-base. A thorough understanding requires a listener to immerse themselves in the lore of the band, the story of each album (Joker’s Cards), and eventually the Juggalo culture itself to fully suss out the depth of meaning in ICP’s music.

But herein lies the rub, and to my mind one of the most incredible things about art presented in this once-removed way. The high buy-in level acts as a sort of built-in gate-keeper for the music itself. It’s kind of like an ‘extreme’ sport. You really don’t see a lot of people merely dabbling in the hobby of wingsuits, and listening to ICP is no different.

It’s exactly why there is such a sharp divide between people who like ICP’s music (‘like’ being an admittedly weak description), and those who don’t (…or inevitably hate it with a passion). It’s an all or nothing situation. If you hear a bit and get turned off, you’ll think little of them ever again, and potentially fear their dedicated following. But if you do the work needed to understand them, you’ll emerge from the other end with a more secure understanding of the art of metaphor in general, and a ‘family’ of Juggalos banded together all the more tightly by their outlier status and shared vision. At that point, it’s only a matter of time before the baptismal Faygo shower makes it official—welcome to the family ninja!

-Brad OH Inc.

The Juggalo Gang Designation

The Gentleman Juggalo LogoThe Insane Clown Posse (ICP) (Link) are no strangers to hate and controversy, and have even gone so far as to proudly wear the label of ‘World’s Most Hated Band’ (Link) like a badge of honour. But recently, things were taken in an unimaginably strange direction, when the FBI took the absurd action of labelling the Juggalos (the dedicated followers of ICP’s music) as a hybrid gang (Link).

The move was a very serious one, and has needlessly affected countless Juggalos since (Link). By labelling the Juggalos a gang, the FBI and United States government have created a near insurmountable obstacle for many law-abiding music-lovers. At present, having a ‘Juggalo’-related tattoo, merchandise, etc. could prevent a person from joining the military, could be considered a breach of probation terms, has been cited to affect custody agreements between parents, and extend sentences for minor crimes—reclassifying them as gang-related crimes (Source).

Even the self-styled ‘Most-Hated Band’ sees this as a step too far. While they’ve borne the brunt of media scorn with an optimistic grin, the ICP have taken the FBI Gang-ruling to court. Backed by the ACLU (Link), and toting a long list of grievances reported by Juggalos to stem from the ruling, ICP have invested a great deal of time and capital into suing the Federal Government to justify or overturn the ruling.

…Not bad for a couple of Clowns.

Thus far, the lawsuit has met with little success, initially being thrown out of court, and continuing to languish under delays and red-tape. But say what you will about ICP’s music, their fight against this ruling is entirely justified, and potentially one of the more important debates of our time in the realm of art and music.

You see, a gang is something which essentially functions to create meaning for an individual who suffers a desperate lack of such. It can provide a place of belonging, an identity, even a sense of purpose and community. Unfortunately, these perceived benefits tend to come—in the case of organized, criminal gangs—with their share of drawbacks—ranging from risk of injury or death, to the harm of others, and of course criminal charges.

But gangs aren’t the only way for a wayward person to find meaning. As discussed in our article, ‘The Metaphorical Imperative’ (Link), stories and art can also serve this function. By finding a sense of acceptance, guidance, and structure in the confines of a well-constructed metaphor, people throughout history have escaped from the dismal confines of their daily life and been elevated to something far greater.

In the case of ICP, this is quite literally what happened. As discussed in our article, ‘Circular Journey’ (Link), Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope initially founded ICP (then ‘Inner City Posse’) as a legitimate (if somewhat unimposing) street-gang. Rapping was just a small part of that identity. But as Violent J shares in his book, ‘Behind the Paint’ (Link), the Inner City Posse quickly fell prey to the more dangerous gangs of inner city Detroit at the time, experienced myriad legal conflicts, and all but fell apart. Violent J, ultimately finding himself in a jail cell, came to the epiphany that the gang life was not for him, and resolved thereafter to focus his efforts on music.

The Inner City Posse soon became the Insane Clown Posse, and the rest was history. ICP’s musical career is what raised them out of the gang life and gave them purpose. Likewise, many of their colleagues at their self-founded ‘Psychopathic Records’ came from similar backgrounds, and as such ICP stand as a true bastion against the gang life in Detroit. They have been a source of reprieve for anyone seeking something more meaningful for their lives. In fact, they have created purpose and employment opportunities in the poverty stricken city of Detroit, where the government has only lamented for the lost.

This effect continues today. When asked exactly what ‘Juggalos’ are, the most common answer you can expect to get is ‘family’. ICP have created for their fans a sense of unity and belonging rarely achieved—whether in music, community organizations, or even religious institutions. They have fostered a sense of meaning and purpose for countless youth—often as disenfranchised and wayward as the two Clowns were in their early life.

It is true that throughout their music, there have been themes of violence, misogyny, and even gang affiliation. In point of fact, in the song ‘Gang Related’, Violent J states it in unambiguous terms: ‘Do you rep the Hatchetman—you’re in a gang!’.

Now surely to the wise men and women of the US court system, this is as clear a confession as you could ever ask for. But the funny thing about art is that what is said is not always meant to be taken literally—that’s the beauty of metaphor after all. This point is not some foreign notion, nor is it a stretch to expect the good people of the judicial system to maintain this basic understanding of the creative process. In his song ‘Nebraska’, Bruce Springsteen admits to the mindless killing of ten individuals, but it’s unlikely he will ever be summoned before a jury on those charges, isn’t it?

Ultimately, the ‘Gang’ designation placed on the Juggalos is an affront to freedom of expression. What’s more, considering the incredible work ICP have done to improve the city of Detroit, and how their work has saved innumerable people from the gang life, it seems rather akin to striking at the hand that’s doing your work.

If the government had the clairvoyance to provide for its citizens in an informed and just way, it may be we would see far fewer people so devoid of meaning and desperate to belong. As it is however, we must simply embrace the power of music (and all metaphor) to provide these intrinsic human needs, and fight doggedly against any judicial ruling which seeks to punish the well-intentioned for fear that their decency would unveil the system’s own complacency.

So fight on ICP! The Juggalos—and the artistic world moreover—are behind you. The Wicked Clowns will never die!

-Brad OH Inc.

Album Review: Insane Clown Posse’s ‘The Marvelous Missing Link: Found’

The Gentleman Juggalo LogoOn April 28th of this year, the Insane Clown Posse released their album- ‘The Marvelous Missing Link: Lost’. This album was the first part of the 3rd Joker’s Card of the Second Deck. That’s a lot of jargon to sort through, but we here at Brad OH Inc. have you covered—just read our review of ‘The Marvelous Missing Link: Lost’ (Link) to help you sort it all out.

For now, suffice it to say that ‘The Marvelous Missing Link: Lost’ was one half of the two-part series known as ‘The Marvelous Missing Link’. The titular ‘Missing Link’ refers to our internal link to belief—our connection to and faith in whatever keeps us on the right track.

As such, ‘Lost’ was an exceedingly dark album both sonically and thematically. It described the existential horrors of living with no grounded set of beliefs—no sense of purpose to keep one rooted in positivity or faith. In our review of that album (Link), we discussed how this desperate state was represented in the genesis of the Insane Clown Posse themselves (Link). More to the point, the formation of the band may have been the moment when Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope’s Missing Link was first ‘Found’.

This brings us to Part 2 of ‘The Marvelous Missing Link’—‘Found’.

The_missing_link_FOUNDClick image above to buy the album.

 ‘Found’ is a very different album from its predecessor, ‘Lost’. While ‘Lost’ focused on the absence of meaning in one’s life, ‘Found’ is the very opposite. With a theme of deliverance and hope, the positive basis of ‘Found’ is heard not only in its lyrics—which tend towards meaning and connection—but also in the sound of the album itself. Where ‘Lost’ was sonically a very dark and sinister record, dominated by industrial-loops and repetitive DJ scratches, ‘Found’ takes a different path entirely.

In fact, fitting to the subject matter, this release may stand as ICP’s most ‘mainstream’ sounding effort to date—with several songs (most notably the lead single, ‘Juggalo Party’) sounding not too dissimilar from the sort of jams you might expect in your typical nightclub. The content isn’t quite the same to be sure—it’s significant that this album sees the return of the Wicked Clown’s sinister sense of humour, which had been conspicuously absent on ‘Lost’—but the gentle rhythms and upbeat tempo provide for a much gentler aural experience.

Once again, this album has been produced without long-time collaborator Mike E. Clark. However, the now familiar team of Mike P, Michael ‘Seven’ Summers, Brian Kuma, and James ‘Young Wicked’ Garcia return to bring a fresh and effective sound to the album. The standout this time is ‘Seven’, whose smooth and flowing beats bring a reflective sense of peace to the album which is truly fitting for the subject matter at hand.

With the positive outlook and comforting tones of this album, the band is successful in bringing their audience a fun and reassuring experience. Song topics range from parties with friends, comfort in belief, and appreciating the time we have; all fitting well with the theme of the album. Others seem slightly less on point however, with songs such as ‘Lost at the Carnival’ or ‘Pineapple Pizza’ having little bearing on the overarching theme of the album, yet contributing in a broad Gestalt effect to deliver the familiar humour and style that the Juggalos demand.

‘Lost’ was certainly a more focussed album, never erring from its morose themes. ‘Found’ bounces around a bit more, providing for a more scenic if slightly distracted jaunt through many of the expected sights for those familiar with the band.

Similar to the track ‘Hell’s Forecast’ on the ‘Shangri-La’ album, the scattering of darker themed songs on this offering remind us how reticent ICP are to put out a wholly positive album. They know that the root of their fan base lies in ‘the Wicked Shit’ that started them off, and they are always more than happy to deliver. While this may ultimately mean that ‘Lost’ will stand as the greater artistic output of the two, ‘Found’ has an undeniable charm, and its positivity is unapologetically contagious—which is surely the point here.

Standout tracks include ‘OK’, ‘Lost at the Carnival’ (providing you have a system with good bass), ‘Juggalo Party’, ‘The World is Yours’, and ‘Time’. Other songs of note include the return to form ‘Shit-Talking’ song, ‘Get Clowned’, and the country-infused comedy track ‘Dreams of Grandeur’, which shows some heavy inspiration from their 2011 Jack White collaboration, ‘Mountain Girl’.

‘Mr. White Suit’ is something of a slow burner, but has been growing on me with repeated listens. The most direct ‘God’ allegory on the album, it’s a catchy track on its own, and an important departure from their standard fare of songs which does much to bring out the intended emotional effect of the album.

Still, while the narrative promise here was to explore the things which keep people connected to a sense of meaning or purpose, this album was less overt in its talk of higher powers than was ‘Lost’, particularly in the respective intros.

One important but subtle effort here is the distinction between the liner notes in each album. While ‘Lost’ was filled with images of violence and strife, in ‘Found’ we find images of friends and lovers, cooperation and progress. Similarly, while the Clowns (thankfully) avoid being too on the nose with their message, they do a good job throughout the album of incorporating themes of belonging and connection, while illustrating how little things such as friends, family, humour, and purpose can lift us out of the doldrums of a life devoid of meaning.

This mix of introspection and irreverence makes for a slightly off-focus, yet impressively poignant package. Too strong a focus on meaning may have left the album feeling heavy-handed. But by combining these topics with songs that are merely for fun, ICP accomplish their intentions with a more roundabout, show-don’t-tell delivery.

In our review of ‘Lost’ (Link), we explained why that album was not the one the Insane Clown Posse likely ‘should’ have released at the moment. ‘Found’ is much closer to that imaginary ideal. With its mix of upbeat bangers, comical irreverence, and anthemic crowd-pleasers, ‘Found’ is an album which—while it may not garner the level of media attention that 2009’s ‘Bang Pow Boom’ did (Link)—is certain to provide plenty of entertainment and meaning to the Juggalos.

And what better testament of success for this album? For just as the band itself acted as the ‘Missing Link’ for two young men in inner-city Detroit, so too have their musical efforts been the ‘Missing Link’ to countless people since—people who often have little else by way of meaning or purpose in their lives. To the Juggalos, the Insane Clown Posse have always been an opportunity to find that sense of purpose, and to that end, ‘The Marvelous Missing Link: Found’ is a terrific success.

-Brad OH Inc.

Welcome to ‘The Gentleman Juggalo’

The Gentleman Juggalo LogoWelcome to ‘The Gentleman Juggalo’, a brand new post-category (Link) here on Brad OH Inc. Some of you may not be familiar with ‘Juggalos’ (Link), the infamous fan-base of the Insane Clown Posse (Link). Well, it just so happens that one of our dear writer’s here at Brad OH Inc. is a self-professed Juggalo, and has expressed a desire to help educate and enlighten our readers about this strange and maligned sub-culture.

It’s true certainly, that the Insane Clown Posse and their fans have been covered here before—most recently in our review of their album ‘The Marvelous Missing Link: Lost’ (Link). But apparently, that wasn’t good enough for the tenacious, painted bastard at our news desk, and so we’ve been convinced to roll out this sub-category to help distinguish such articles in the future.

For now, and especially for those of you less familiar with the Insane Clown Posse and their Juggalo Family, we’re taking this opportunity to provide a primer in the form of our formerly released essay ‘Circular Journey’ (Link), which is a psychological study of ICP member ‘Violent J’ through the lens of Ernest Becker’s ‘Terror Management Theory’ (Link).

Circular Journey Cover

Now, the mockery and degradation of Juggalos is ubiquitous online these days—hell, the FBI even went so far as to classify them as a hybrid-gang (Link)…but more on that later.

At Brad OH Inc., we are committed to providing fresh content and unique perspectives, and what we find missing in the reporting on Juggalo culture is the sort of unbiased, insightful critique demanded for nearly any other topic in media. We believe you’ll find that here. In fact, ‘Circular Journey’ (Link) should act as a fine introduction to the sort of measured, informed look at the Insane Clown Posse and its fans ‘The Juggalos’ that ‘The Gentleman Juggalo’ (Link) is poised to offer. We certainly hope you enjoy it.

-Brad OH Inc.

Album Review: Insane Clown Posse’s ‘The Marvelous Missing Link: Lost’

The Gentleman Juggalo LogoOn April 28th, 2015 Insane Clown Posse’s Violent J celebrated his 43rd birthday. This is no trivial accomplishment. With a childhood steeped in gang violence and accentuated by poverty, Violent J (aka: Joseph Bruce) may be lucky to have made it even beyond 20.

But something happened along the way which changed Violent J’s life forever. He formed a band. Along with his childhood friend Joey Ustler (aka: Shaggy 2 Dope), J built the Insane Clown Posse from the bones of defunct street gang Inner City Posse.

On October 18th, 1992, ICP released their debut full length album, ‘Carnival of Carnage’. The first in an album series known as the ‘Joker’s Cards’, ‘Carnival’ set ICP onto their lifelong musical odyssey. The Joker’s Cards are a series of thematic albums, each revealing some aspect of the listener’s inner-self—they display moral quandaries and psychic terrors like so many carnivalesque freak-shows.

Since then, ICP’s career has stood as a blazing contradiction to the ‘mainstream’ music industry. With the formation of their record label, ‘Psychopathic Records’, Joe and Joey have created an underground industry for themselves, bringing up countless other acts along the way.

With this sense of purpose, the lives of these two Detroit youth have morphed from nightmares to dreamscapes. Both describe their lives now as being filled with all the happiness and fulfillment they could have ever dreamed of. For more information about the genesis of the Insane Clown Posse, see the Brad OH Inc. article ‘Circular Journey’ (Link).

This all brings us back to April 28th—as this year, Violent J’s birthday also marked the release of the 3rd Joker’s Card of the second deck—‘The Marvelous Missing Link: Lost’.

indexClick image above to buy the album.

‘Lost’ is only one half of ‘The Missing Link’, with the other half—‘Found’—dropping later this year, on July 31st.

Like all Joker’s Cards, there is a very specific theme behind ‘The Missing Link’. As a whole, ‘The Missing Link’ refers to our internal link to belief—our connection to and faith in whatever keeps us on the right track.

Specifically, ‘Lost’ is about the experience of having no belief. Its dark tales tell of loss, death, and torment—the experience of any soul living in such a depraved world without any belief to buffer against the daily anxieties of such a life.

With tracks such as ‘Lost’, ‘Apocalypse’, and ‘Vomit’ painting hellish stories of misplaced anger and suffering, ‘Lost’ is accordingly one of the darkest albums the Clowns have ever released.

Without long-time producer Mike E. Clark at the helm, ICP have instead placed their faith in the talents of Psychopathic collaborators Mike P, Michael ‘Seven’ Summers, Brian Kuma, and one of the label’s up-and-coming stars, James ‘Young Wicked’ Garcia. This results in a daring change to the sound. While every album has certainly represented a significant shift in musical style—ICP have continued to explore their artistic range even after nearly 25 years together—this stands as one of the most radical departures for the group yet.

Marked by the heavy use of DJ scratching and industrial-style bass drops, the backing tracks are fast and heavy—contributing an often frantic pace to an album about the madness of lacking a sense of purpose. The disc plays at times more like a soundscape than an ordered collection of songs, with lyrics often sampled and repeated over and over—the usual raps slipping on many occasions into something closer to a Gregorian chant. In this way, the album is reminiscent of ICP protégé-band Twiztid’s stellar 2009 release- ‘W.I.C.K.E.D.’.

Garcia’s efforts deserve special credit here. Contributing many background vocals and several choruses including on the songs ‘How’ and ‘I See the Devil’, Garcia brings a fresh and welcome sound to the album—acting often as the distant voice of hope amidst the dark rumblings of ICP’s verses.

ICP’s delivery here is significant as well. While never competing amongst the most technically skilled rappers, the Clowns have always turned out crisp lyrics meshing well with their energetic beats. Not here. While frantic at times, the beats seldom flirt with anything close to ‘energy’—opting rather for a more frenetic, plodding, and often vulgar feel.

ICP’s raps follow suit perfectly. When not stuck in repetitive loops, the lyrics often come in disjointed bursts, as if being made up on the spot by a mind too occupied with more pressing concerns. This is especially noticeable in the song ‘Shock’, and fits well with the theme of being unable to control your own deranged impulses, despite how off-putting it can seem at first.

This attention to detail is consistent throughout the record.

While the intro can be somewhat brazen in its repetition, and even disturbingly overt in hammering the point home—it does much to illustrate the earnest message behind this brooding album: Find something to believe in, or risk being lost. Despite this theme however, the album does little to provide any idea of just what one should believe. If internet memes are to be believed, ICP are a couple of evangelical Christians, and thus the easy conclusion would be faith in the Christian God.

But you shouldn’t believe everything you read on the internet, and this is a perfect example. While the ultimate message of how to find your way will inevitably be addressed on ‘The Marvelous Missing Link: Found’, a recent interview in ‘The Detroit News’ did a good job showing the flexibility of Violent J’s views on the matter:

“Faith, for ICP, isn’t about any particular religion; Bruce admits he’s never read the Bible. It’s about finding something to believe in, whether that’s in one’s relationship with their spouse, their children or with art.” (Source).

But this isn’t to say that ‘Lost’ is entirely bereft of guidance. Several songs cover the issues of false beliefs—Money, Sex, Power, and other such temptations which distract people from finding a true sense of purpose. In ‘Vomit’, ICP tell the stories of two people who used sex and money respectively as their guiding principles, and end up lost in the depths of hell as a result.

Notably missing from the album is the familiar sense of humour so ubiquitous to other ICP releases. The lyrics and concepts are consistently bleak, with only brief glimpses of hope in songs such as ‘How’, which laments the confusion of trying to live a decent life amid such lurid distractions.

The album is moreover barren of any deep metaphor—which of course requires belief, as covered in depth in the former Brad OH Inc. articles on ‘The Metaphorical Imperative’ (Part 1 and Part 2). In an indirectly humourous twist, the song ‘Falling Apart’ accordingly eschews metaphor entirely. It tells the story of a man literally falling apart—fingers and limbs snapping off as he tries in vain to keep himself together. The song is punctuated by a surprisingly earnest chorus, in which Violent J channels his inner Rock Star to ask ‘What’s become of me/ I’m falling apart…’.

It pays off wonderfully.

The rest of the album plays out as a series of macabre stories and scenarios depicting the pitfalls of a life devoid of meaning. In stark contrast to most other ICP albums, the protagonist’s endeavours seldom end well, as evidenced in the song ‘Flamethrower’, where the Clown’s characters are ultimately killed. This subtly negative detail is similar to many songs from the group’s 2004 release, ‘Hell’s Pit’.

To me, one of the especially interesting things about this album is that it’s really not the album ICP probably ‘should’ have made at this point. Based on the huge surge of mainstream attention they garnered from songs like 2009’s ‘Miracles’, contrasted against the comparatively underwhelming reception they’ve received in the last few years, it would have made commercial sense to create a much more goofy album; ripe for public lampooning.

Instead, the Clowns opted to make a brazenly sincere album, focused on earnest meaning with a great sense of personal introspection. In theory, it’s the ‘wrong’ album to release just now, and that’s part of what makes it so damn interesting.

‘The Marvelous Missing Link: Lost’ is a daring album and bold new direction for ICP. Its heavy themes and plodding delivery often make for an uncomfortable listen, but that’s just the point. As is their wont, ICP have focused very intently on creating an LP that fits with their own artistic priorities rather than mass-appeal. This shouldn’t be surprising, as the band itself may be seen as the very ‘Link’ which raised Joe and Joey away from the fate of most children born to inner city poverty and set them on their purposeful path to happiness and fulfillment.

‘Lost’ is a dark, moody album. It’s not going to cheer anyone up, and this era in ICP’s career may be remembered as one of the least traditionally pleasant—challenging us with a barrage of negativity before moving on to the inevitably lighter tone of the ‘Found’ album. But ‘Lost’ does provide an important impetus for all of us to consider what really matters in our lives. It’s imperative that we take the time to recognize and cherish these things. Otherwise, our own Missing Link may never be ‘Found’.

The_missing_link_FOUND‘The Marvelous Missing Link: Found’ is out on July 31st, 2015.

A Note to the Reader: This is the first ever album review from Brad OH Inc. We hope you’ve enjoyed this new avenue, and encourage all of our fans to reply in the comments section with their thoughts on the review, or suggestions for other albums to review in the future.

-Brad OH Inc.