Lemonades high point is “Squeaky Hinge,” a minute of total synthesis for Hommys technical virtuosity and musical instincts, his sly humor and his feel for the violent undercurrents in American cities. Theres a devilish bounce, even, to the way he opens the track: “Whats pocket change? Mach-Hommy is interested in evoking, not describing, and has neither the persistence nor desire to bring you up to speed.
Lemonade is the seamless extension of a long string of reliable Hommy records; it is also one of his strongest yet, fascinating in spite of its brevity.
When rapping, Hommy works out impressive control: at times his verses will appear to careen across the beat, becoming more and more verbose, all while gradually exposing an underlying, rhythmic reasoning. (This makes it even more disconcerting—- and fulfilling—- when Hommy opens his chest and bellows a verse, as he does on the excellent closer, “NJ Ultra.”) However its Hommys periodic singing that makes his albums so dynamic: See his chorus on “Marshmallow Test,” where the method he croons “One for you … one, two for me” turns an experiment notoriously brought out on kids into a cool, capitalist taunt.
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It would seem that there is a chance for Hommy to court some crossover fame: Lemonades digital release was exclusive to Tidal; he was photographed last fall at a conference with JAY-Z, who took obvious motivation from Hommys cadences for his verses on Jay Electronicas A Written Testimony. The closest Hommy comes to integrating Jay into his newest work is a line on album opener “SBTM” (“I seen the very same shit take place to Shan”) that points to a quip on Vol.
It would seem that there is an opportunity for Hommy to court some crossover fame: Lemonades digital release was special to Tidal; he was photographed last fall at a meeting with JAY-Z, who took apparent inspiration from Hommys cadences for his verses on Jay Electronicas A Written Testimony. Lemonade is mixed more crisply than some of Hommys other records, however the sound design—- pleasingly rugged, occasionally muddy—- is still the unifying force in his music. Hommy is a collagist, somebody who can link lines from a posthumous Biggie song and Baby Doc Duvaliers reign in Haiti to MC Shan and the Atlanta rap group D4L (Fabo and the late Shawty Lo are both screamed out in the opening verse of “Smoked Maldon”—- before Hommy compares himself to Steve Prefontaine).
Mach-Hommys public personality—- the quasi-anonymity, the incredibly irritable interviews, his refusal to permit websites like Genius to sell ads against his transcribed lyrics—- and his probing, uncompromised music may suggest a flightier artist. Hommy has grown prolific, even when you enable for gaps on the release schedule where albums that are unaffordable or not available on streaming platforms may otherwise sit. Lemonade is the seamless continuation of a long string of reliable Hommy records; it is likewise among his strongest yet, absorbing regardless of its brevity.
About halfway through Machs Hard Lemonade, Mach-Hommy thanks his fans, then captures himself: He d rather describe them as “investors.” This word is both a recommendation to the uncommon enthusiasm the Newark rap artist inspires in his fans and of the inflated prices he charges for his music and product (the deluxe vinyl variation of Lemonade retails for $444.44, the standard variation a take at half the rate). As time goes on and Hommys brochure grows, the concept of fans as investors begins to evoke the image of a pleased shareholder, idly gaining the benefits of betting on this nomadic maybe-genius who appears committed to quarter-over-quarter growth.
Lemonade is blended more crisply than some of Hommys other records, however the sound design—- nicely jagged, periodically muddy—- is still the unifying force in his music. Hommy is a collagist, someone who can connect lines from a posthumous Biggie song and Baby Doc Duvaliers reign in Haiti to MC Shan and the Atlanta rap group D4L (Fabo and the late Shawty Lo are both screamed out in the opening verse of “Smoked Maldon”—- before Hommy compares himself to Steve Prefontaine). These scraps of material culled from apparently disparate worlds recommend an observer so eager that he sees the source code of life concealed to the rest people; he recognized the value in masking up in public long prior to the plague.
