Pale Black Negative is the 20th project from rapper and multi-instrumentalist Rhys Langston. It crystallizes his 10 year discography of genre abolition, while showcasing his strength as rap’s premier poet-etymologist. Though rapping remains his main instrument, this record fully unveils Langston’s singing talent in equal splendor. Presenting what he calls a “rapper’s singer-songwriter record,” he commandeers guitar, bass, clarinet, synths, banjo, and percussion to couch his poetry in alternative R&B, art rock, trip hop, and even roots blues music. In the 11 songs Rhys Langston’s linguistic eccentricity shows itself as scion of his West Coast forefathers, Freestyle Fellowship, as much as the eclectic production owes its range to his coming of age in the late aughts, listening to indie pioneers TV on the Radio. And read on the page his lyrics might resemble pages from a lost Amiri Baraka manuscript, until they are sung aloud more like Beck (maybe with a little more melanin). 

Even with contemporary music’s post-genre conventions, rarely do songs so successfully balance technical, poetic rapping with soulful, genre-fluid melodies. Pale Black Negative compromises in neither form nor fashion. Its impressionist abstractions sit beside emotional candor, its bespoke language stands next to genuine pathos, and its layered harmonies bolster unflinching bars. Some songs were started in 2017 and others took shape in 2022, resulting in a slow cooked opus for our age of endless convenience and instant gratification. Magnum may it be, this product of a shoestring budget, an outdated DAW, and just enough nerve. A sui generis lexicon in poetry and timbre, this is Rhys Langston’s abstract autobiography across an expanse of word and sound.