Macromantics

Moments in Movement
Kill Rock Stars

If Fergie required an artistic answer (aside from "Uh, no, thanks"), MC Romy Hoffman, aka Macromantics, would be the perfect nuclear-blast reply. Rather than dangle her pussy like car keys, Hoffman cuts verbal territory in back-flipped knots of Mad Hatter intellectualism. Moments in Movement builds its grooves off jagged edges and suffocating architecture that's often saved by a bass-line lifeline passed down through the rubble. Much like Jean Grae, Hoffman pushes hip-hop as a lyrical art form -- mastering the intricate internal rhyme, absorbing the lawlessness of spoken word and bloodletting without posturing -- while the backdrops frequently mirror her bookishly sociopathic flow. "Eerily Spooky" sounds like the Antichrist's crib rattle cracking underneath keyboards that play like hammered teeth. This morbid production wears slightly when compared to the risky, intelligent threat of Hoffman's persona; too many of the songs lurch sulkily like obedient goblins, a little too Marilyn Manson monstrous to stomach at album's length. All in all, though, that's a minor dent in a record gorged with such gorgeous phrases, amusement and intelligence.

 
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