Skyrider Band

SoleSole and the Skyrider BandBest described to the common listener as a Sage Francis for the even more rebellious, nonconformist progressive set, Tim “Sole” Holland was one of the key figures responsible for getting the career of the aforementioned – and now much more famous – Sage Francis – off the ground. As it goes, Sole’s output is not only more radically political and socially cynical than Francis’, but also more intellectual, studied and consistent. In fact, the three official solo studio albums released since his classic debut, Bottle of Humans, work as a trilogy of sorts; a trilogy built on dense, dark beats and social and political philosophies in line with those of Noam Chomsky and Howard Zinn, though delivered in a much more comical (read: ironic) manner.

Earlier in the year while recording what would become Sole and the Skyrider Band at his house in Arizona, Sole dumped 10 all-but-completed tracks after just a couple of sessions with Skyrider, the trio of musicians who supply the 13 surprisingly organic (but still very hip-hop in essence) musical accompaniments on Skyrider Band. At the heart of the Skyrider Band is electronic programmer/drummer Bud Berning, whose sample-based blueprints are fleshed out by bassist John Wagner and multi-instrumentalist Ryan Fritch. The half-live-band, half-programmed recordings amount to a sound that is less loop-oriented but otherwise not much different than Sole’s previous two albums, Selling Live Water and Live From Rome. That said, the mucky Skyrider – like the Live albums – sounds like a Sole album and only like a Sole album. Here’s the thing: nothing else sounds like a Sole album, Saul Williams being the closest – but still not very similar – thing you’re likely to find.

The real focal point, as is the case with any Sole project, is the writing. While Sole’s hoiler-than-thou spoken word-inspired style was revelatory for a few years, he hasn’t done much to change it here, only perfect it. Where Selling Live Water played through like a lifestyle instruction disc for a budding liberal, and Live From Rome toiled roughly with both the sickest sides of pop culture and every political conspiracy under the stun, Skyrider depicts Sole as a fatigued, nearly-destructive (though still very liberal and pissed off) cynic who can’t help but rip both himself and the United States’ political landscape to shreds every chance he gets.

In a press release leading up to the release of Skyrider Sole claimed that his new songs were “more mature,” two bars from “One Egg Short of the Omelette” in particular stand out as such, mixing Sole’s normal ironic self with a welcomed bit of raw honesty: “People say I’m negative for speaking my truths / I may be negative but I’ve never been fooled / Except by clowns and my own blind faith / You don’t get what you deserve, you get what you take / The sky is my farm and I till the air / Don’t wanna be a martyr I wanna be a millionaire.”

Don’t worry, the social bite is still there, hidden in nearly every line. On “The Bones of My Pets” Sole raps “After whatever-eleven every paranoid kid with a web connection became an explosives expert / I became an idiot expert / I know how ‘they’ think / Watch the world cage in on the moon with Gallilleo’s scope / Almost out of saltines.” Or perhaps it’s the opening track, “A Sad Day for Investors” that best describes exactly where Sole is at right now: “They say rapping wont change anything / It’s not my fault words and morals hollowed out” says Sole over heavy drums, more or less announcing that he’s finally realized that a rowdy red-haired rapper from Arizona can’t make a difference.

Luck for fans Sole is still funny, and despite losing the brunt of his inspiring idealist fire, he still manages to inspire with his always-present deep down moral fiber and love off all things creative. He loves sound, and with this, his most musically ambitious offering yet, that aspect of his art has never been more evident. He loves words, too. You hear it in every line: he loves the way words have rhythm without rhyming; he loves to see how much he can say with only one quip; and, most of all, he loves documenting himself and the times he’s not so sure he’s fit to live in. We’ve come a long way since “Jobs ain’t nothin’ but free pens and long distance calls” and “I’m not anti-anything I’m anti-everything / It fits better,” though you’d have to believe that both lines still fit into Tim Holland’s baffling ethos.   6/10

Written by G. William Locke