Once upon a time, Divine Council was primed to be the next organic underground hip hop collective to bring their unconventional approach to the mainstream; today, not much is left. Let’s back up and set the stage here, starting with the omnipresence of “P$42WWS,” that you've absolutely heard even if you don't know the artists involved (spoiler alert: Divine Council members were behind it). That production style with an imposing 808 bass, flittering hi hats, and a heavy snare is one that Chicago producer ICYTWAT made his bread and butter and brought to the forefront of the SoundCloud scene. His mixtape Dior Junts floored me back in 2015, to the point that it was the only thing I wanted to blast through the blown-out speakers in my car. This was my how I was introduced to Divine Council, a group of inspired, stoned, pre-mumble rap virtuosos comprised of Richmond rappers Lord Linco, Cyrax, and $ilkMoney, alongside producer ICYTWAT. Their sound has always been an acquired taste that garnered a dedicated, borderline-obsessed cult following.
The collective signed with Epic Records in 2016, and the label quickly released the EP Council World that included the viral hit “P$42WWS.” That was followed up by DB$B, a phenomenal mixtape that sports lines like “I spent my whole damn advance on some fucking weed / bought me some things I don’t need, don’t tell L.A. Reid.” Their momentum stumbled and stalled rather quickly. Founder Lord Linco mysteriously left the group in 2017 and later reemerged as Loveybone. ICYTWAT stepped away from the collective later that year, but has dug his heels into his distinctive production style that’s inspired countless mimics -- just look up “ICYTWAT type beat” on YouTube to get a sense of his reach. More recently, he was embroiled in a Twitter controversy with Ethereal, even though it’s since been deleted. This beef may stem from when ICYTWAT sampled the same section of Ahmad Jamal’s “I Love Music” on Divine Council’s “Talkin’ Down” that Ethereal had already used for “World,” and there is an abundance of comparisons between their production styles, but as a longtime follower of both artists respectively, I believe there are enough subtle differences to set them apart. To be fair, I can’t speak to what their conflict was about, so I won’t comment further than appreciating what each of them brings to the table musically. Cyrax, in his usual understated manner, has kept up independent releases the past few years. It’s mostly a moot point by now, since it appears that Divine Council was dropped from Epic unceremoniously in 2018, another missed opportunity to strike while the iron was hot. You can decide for yourself: tell me this unsung gem doesn’t work for you, a one-off track that’s sadly highlighted by the line “now the Council boys on top and this is only the beginning.”
$ilkMoney has often felt like the most front-facing of the group, and he hasn’t wavered in his wavy, eccentric approach since we got a peek into his world of pastels on Wan Lovey: A Love Story. It’s gorgeously humid, dripping with reverb and deep kicks from underappreciated producer S?K, and it fit perfectly into the Divine Council repertoire; the EP was addictive and left you repeating the meager four tracks. $ilk’s 2018 full-length I Hate My Life And I Really Wish People Would Stop Telling Me Not To was nine songs of dismal, over-the-top perfection. GTFOMD: There’s Not Enough Room For All You Motha Fuckas To Be On It Like This dropped late last year with unfortunately minimal fanfare, and was filled with much of the same brazen, dark attitude that either makes you laugh or recoil. See the skit introduction on “N.P.O.M.F” where someone eats snacks while casually talking about feeding a dead body to pigs, as the oft-sampled The Stylistics’ “Let’s Put It All Together” plays in the background.
Everything on Attack of the Future Shocked, Flesh Covered, Meatbags of the 85 is fresh; on April 10th, he tweeted as such: “No outdated bullshit raps from years ago that I’ve been holding on to for no reason that have nothing to do with what’s going on in today’s world.” The album title refers not just to the concept of ‘future shock’ in which technology evolves too quickly for our minds to adequately process and results in “shattering stress and disorientation,” but also James Brown’s Future Shock, a short-lived variety television show shot out of Atlanta in the 1970s. The opener “Detour” starts off with a sample from the Godfather of Soul himself before diving into an ominous horror movie soundtrack section to scare off any posers and/or nervous white kids. This leads into the soft jazz piano sample of “I Wanna Be the Superbug When I Grow Up,” scattered with that familiar aggressive, breathy delivery with clever lyrics that are often dripping with irony or deeper meaning. But it's still infused with threatening braggadocio, even if it has some truly fatalist overtones that slowly get more despondent as we progress through the album. The production is stripped back, almost exclusively helmed by Khalil blu, noticeably minimalist when compared to previous efforts. It leans more towards the progressive style of other underground favorites like Medhane, Pink Siifu, CRIMEAPPLE, or even MIKE, although this project isn’t quite at that level of experimental.
This is $ilk at his most raw; he's focusing on his message, putting the lyrics in the front seat, and stripping away a lot of the sarcasm that he’s been known to exhibit. It continues that brave and riskier trend he’s been developing and taking it to the next level, an all-in portrayal of self. His bars are powerful, intense in their content as well as tone, presenting a fed-up anger that culminates in the frustrated plea for help on the last track, “Did You Getcho Check, Lil Brah,” which is easily the first song off of this record that everyone should listen to. Don’t worry about fully processing all his lines the first time around, because it’s that discovery on repeat listens that makes his music so appealing. Strong tip of the cap to what I could catch of this line on “Weesnaawwww”: “Don’t let ‘em Big you up and think that you Christopher, you ain’t spitting none... like when KRS said the bridge was done.”
Attack of the Future Shocked should attract new ears to $ilkMoney, those who can appreciate his singular flow and off-the-wall bars, although some longtime fans may lament the lack of big bass sounds that usually accompany him. He’s brought his sound into a new setting, and he thrives outside the confines of the now-well-worn production style of ICYTWAT and Divine Council, demanding our attention and commanding his post as a voice to be reckoned with. If you’re looking for more, a few places to start are the Council World EP, “Jodeci Pt. 2,” and “Naga,” a thoroughly exquisite $ilk verse that hides one of the best Tyler, the Creator features in recent memory. Hip Hop Twitter might have something to say about that assessment, but it’s one I’ll stand behind.
Released May 20th, 2020. Reviewed July 15th, 2020.
See Also
Welcome to the Unholy Chaos of Divine Council: Vice, 2016
Meditations with Divine Council: Video Interview, 2016
Audio Pastel: A Brief History of the Short-Lived Rap Supergroup Divine Council: High Snobiety, 2020
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