12/22/25

Precious Thing

It's probably not obvious judging by the rest of this site, but I love hip hop. In fact, I would argue that I listen to it as much - if not more than - I listen to heavy, claustrophobic rock music. Insert name check here: Public Enemy, Gang Starr, The Roots and Hieroglyphics, just to name a few which have left a big impression.

No doubt all these artists have long histories, some of which now cease to exist. With that in mind, I will not spend the rest of this articial lamenting the passage of golden age hip hop, as a keen eye can track this sound's evolution to the modern day. So much so, I am pleased to recognize that we are in the midst of a renaissance period for hip hop overall, and especially for boom bap's forebears. New figures have risen to underground celebrity that you may know, artists with increasingly radical and varied stylistic expressions: Death Grips, JPEGMAFIA, MIKE, Earl Sweatshirt, each on a spectrum anywhere between avant-industrial to hypnogogic soul; but all nonetheless being hip hop.

My point is there's a lot of great shit being put out right now, with a lot of different tonal things going on between artists. And that leads me to my topic of discussion today: Armand Hammer, hands down my favorite hip hop group, and one of my favorite artists at all. Armand Hammer is a duo from Brooklyn, NY, consisting of E L U C I D and billy woods, each having highly productive solo careers. For over a decade now, they have worked together as Armand Hammer, putting out some of the most cerebral, intense, and sober rap music I have heard.

I have no reason not to recommend their entire discography, but I will initiate this discussion with conversation about their 2018 album Paraffin. Let's do some close-reading to get a feel for what kind of music we're talking about. The first case study is "Fuhrman Tapes," the song you are listening to right now (if you clicked the link).

E L U C I D MCs throughout the first section, describing modern racial affairs between black and white people in a visibly gentrified urban landscape. His narration offers oversaturated, fragmentary snapshots into a world of simultaneous profanity and scholarship. Describing hyper-modern black experiences, E L U C I D warns that following popular social trends towards self development does not secure in-group status with the elite group.

Adopting the search for pathology to explain mental discomforts or resolve personal defects, E L U C I D describes one "getting slizzered ... on some self-care shit / Medicating," this being a notable concern in the national conscience, but especially one frequented to by white people, and thus speaking to a white perspective of social hygenics. The ensuing line, however, assesses the futility of this strategy on racial grounds, black people still being subject to authoritative violence: "[cops] still murdering for standing up or lying down / Unarmed, in a suit." I argue that E L U C I D's final remark is especially terse, being "Unarmed, in a suit" not only dismantling the mythology of black urban violence, but also contextualizing racial targeting as something that can continue as economic and social presences of black people evolve with society. Regardless of how medicated or white collar one is - in appearance or capital - the significance of skin color in relation to police culture has ossified; killing is grandfathered into a rapidly changing society.

"It's the reason they don't look you in the eye / It's the reason they change the subject every time," the chorus goes. This is woods' first interjection on the track, him seeming to In this excerpt, E L U C I D the modernization of the black experience is assessed with a narration, With terms like lurid street photography, Next is the Racer-X EP, named after the character from the Speed Racer cartoon/anime. The character is referenced here to describe a race-car driver addicted to amphetamines, hence "He's just a regular guy / Racer X got a need / Come on Pops / I need a little more speed." More of the same characteristics with the prior release apply here, minus Pat Byrne. Though, the lack of a live drum overlay does not dampen the experience. Overall, it's more speed and the kind of noises you'd hear in your dad's garage, not to mention culture rot. It's great, and there's also a James Brown cover to top it all off.

Thus ends the Jeff Pezzati phase of the band, at least. Hereon, Dave Riley was brought in for bass duties. Tonally, I don't know that there would've been a better fit. Riley added a much more direct funk influence to a band that was already kinda funky. This seems tangentially related to his engineering experience for Parliament/Funkadelic.

The result of this new pairing is Atomizer, a god-honest LP. I indicated earlier that the previous two EPs were the band at full force, and I still stand by that, insofar that the force is angled a bit differently here. Would it be fair to call this album-oriented rock? That has nothing to do with the tonal character of the music. The sound at this point is a tight crossover of spastic punk-funk and merciless tectonic insistence. That this is delivered in a full nine-song (plus a live track) record is delicious.

You might've picked up how important middle-American industrial decay is to this band's overall concept. "Kerosene" declares this idea like a mission statement:

I was born in this town

Live here my whole life

Probably come to die in this town

Live here my whole life

Never anything to do in this town

Live here my whole life

Never anything to do in this town

Live here my whole life

Probably learn to die in this town

Live here my whole life

Nothing to do, sit around at home

Sit around at home, stare at the walls

Stare at each other and wait till we die

Stare at each other and wait till we die

Probably come to die in this town

Live here my whole life

You get the idea, surely. Regardless, I find Atomizer's strength to be a lot of its stylistic expansion. For example, "Jordan, Minnesota" uses the band's known belligerence for off-putting tone poetry about a (debunked) pedophilia ring. Meanwhile, "Bad Houses" reflects latent post-punk tendencies, fuzzily recalling an education in Sisters of Mercy or Wire. And of course, "Kerosene" is a seven-minute-long ballad about being so fucking bored out of your skull that you self-immolate. It's not that these tendencies didn't exist previously, but that they seem more obvious and actionable here. This is a noise rock album, for chrissakes.

And then they did it again, for the last time. Songs About Fucking has a couple songs that do in fact mention fucking. If you've witnessed any online presentation of the band, you probably recognize "Bad Penny" as their most famous song, with exception to "Kerosene." This was the track I first heard, and it certainly sets a template. Here is angsty dance-punk with actual fervor and wrath, something you can flail to while spiting your parents. "I think I fucked your girlfriend once / Or maybe twice, I don't remember / Then I fucked all your friends' girlfriends / Now they hate you," Albini says.

Where I said Atomizer is more stylistically diverse, Songs About Fucking feels like a final reassertion of mastery over their techniques. Tracks like "L. Dopa" and "Precious Thing" exhibit interplay between Albini and Durango at peak sadomasochism. Meanwhile, Riley scrawls creases into the center with a soldering iron. Guided by the invaluable Roland - regardless of what drum machine it actually was - The band approaches like fighting to the death, knowing time isn't long no matter what. So, they grind until the establishment collapses, even if they're going with.

Albini wrote in a column sometime in the mid-'80s: "I want to push myself, the music, the audience and everything involved as close to the precipice as possible. Although I'm kinda worried about what we'll find there. All the coolest pioneers of this noise spirit seem to have made the trip to the extreme, been unable, or unwilling, to push on, and tossed in the towel."

He wrote other stuff in that piece which doesn't advertise him very well, but significantly is this the philosophy which I feel guided the band's end - besides important logistical issues. For example, Dave had a drinking problem, and destroyed the drum machine one time. Also, all of them had full-time jobs, and Santiago was going to become a lawyer (which he did, for some reason). They put out the dustier Headache EP that same year, though all-told, that is the general story of Big Black.

But stay for a moment, if you will. Headache may be stripped down compared to previous releases, but there are still some really great moments, including one of my favorite songs by them, the opening "My Disco." Beyond that, if you ever find yourself having reached the end of their recorded output - up to this point, including their handful of singles and live album Pig Pile* (*required reading) - Santiago released two EPs a couple years later as Arsenal. These are also pretty good, if not quite the same.

And some of you might know Steve Albini as a recording engineer. I won't state his obvious credits; anyone can find these easily enough on their own. Nonetheless, I attribute a lot of my personal musical exodus as having initiated through Albini. He was my in for Jesus Lizard, Zeni Geva, Craw, Dazzling Killmen, Uzeda, Engine Kid, Melt Banana, Space Streakings, and so on. If you still like the sound of your dad's garage, culture rot, and tonal juxtapositions, see yourself on your way. The adventure is waiting.

So, that was Big Black: a band that had the nerve to say "fuck you" both to society and the standards of their regional punk scene. Because Big Black was not popular in Chicago and didn't like playing there either, their scorn seems to be indebted to Albini being kind of an asshole, but also very observant of bullshit. I doubt arrogant, self-entitled punk guys were privy to this (which, Albini kinda was himself, but I digress). Either way, I think Big Black's biggest backhand was to play music that was simultaneously more danceable and more violent than - in my humble opinion - really anything their peers were doing at the time.

At least, this is to the extent that they were on the same level as groups like Scratch Acid, No Trend, Laughing Hyenas, (early) Swans, (early) Butthole Surfers, Teenage Jesus & the Jerks, DNA, and so on. And if that's not an invitation to check these band out, I don't know what is. Your homework assignment should be clear by now.