P.O.S

We Don't Even Live Here

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The idea of "punk rap" rarely feels as real and needed as it does when the twitchy "Bumper" opens rapper and Doomtree member P.O.S' fourth official release, We Don't Even Live Here, a literate, sharp blast of revolution with an anarchist slant. Torching material possessions, "Fuck Your Stuff" displays this slant in detail with "Catch me in a mission, pissin' in a convertible trying to create some tension/Open a book, discuss Christopher Hitchens, or how to make bombs out of stuff found in your kitchen." The attitude often seems to be that there's no such thing as an innocent bystander, but Justin Vernon of Bon Iver is here to deliver the rock-solid pop hook of highlight "How We Land," making this a rather seductive entry point into the land of no justice/no peace. When "They Can't Come" rolls around with a bouncing bass and old-school shine, it sounds more like a rent party than a leftist Red party, and as busy as P.O.S' writing style can be, this album is economical and easy at 11 tracks, offering both a prime end-to-end album with plenty of flow, or a right-sized selection of stand-out blows against the empire, ready with kinetic bits of anger, information, and mind-opening bullet points to discuss. Start with the aptly titled "Get Down" with Mike Mictlan and P.O.S offering an electro re-imagining of the Bad Brains, or choose the block-rockin' "They Can't Come," a thick anthem with Sims that looks to "clash with their whole set of standards" and makes it sound delicious. Maybe there's a touch more swagger than solutions on the set, but Minneapolis' secret weapon really should have saved the title of his previous set, Never Better, for this one.

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