Aesop Rock — Bazooka Tooth

Twenty-three years later, Bazooka Tooth still brings me back to the feeling of listening to it the summer it was released. The sense that there was an entire creative world waiting to be explored, that anything was possible. Sometimes it feels as though those memories have been imprinted on the record. Other times I wonder if the album simply creates that feeling every time I hear it.

Bazooka Tooth feels like the secret world hidden inside New York.

Public transit. Machinery. Sirens. Bright, abrasive sounds that somehow become musical. Every track feels like another neighborhood where every day becomes an adventure once you leave the house. Another late-night walk while the players change around you. “Easy,” “No Jumper Cables,” “Kill the Messenger,” “Frijoles,” and “Mars Attacks” aren't just songs. They're coordinates.

There are moments, especially on “Frijoles,” where I feel like I'm wandering through fsociety's arcade. Flashing lights. Pinball. Popcorn. Big Gulps. Left of center politics.

That's what made Definitive Jux feel so exciting in the early 2000s.

The label was creating a point of view, and every artist on the roster was contributing to it. Together, they were building a world and filling it with ideas.

That idea stayed with me. So did the worldview of independence, curiosity, creative freedom, skepticism toward institutions, and the belief that making something meaningful matters more than making something popular. Better yet, make it sound incredible. That's classic Aes.

Every spring and summer I find myself putting Bazooka Tooth back on. Part of it is nostalgia. Mostly, though, I just love visiting this world in warm weather.