Too Much Sugar for a Dime

This is barely jazz. It's more like moments before an impending disaster. Y'know, rats running out of the sewers and shit. Lot to unpack obviously, but you don't need to; it's still holding on just fine as is.

I usually like my jazz to be palpable and easy to digest, and this just strides that line between understandable and "what the fuck" territory. The opening hodgepodge of instruments, In Touch with the female guest chants, and Wrapped/Unwrapped with its... presence, and an overall sense of unknown hands playing tricks in the dark. It surprised me every step on the way, and that's what you need sometimes, y'know.