With Heems on board there's a touch of that old Das Racist vibe: blunt instrument beats, loose and loping rhymes, infinite irreverence. But this is post-fucking around, those political undercurrents running rampant right over the top: American racism and distrust, defiance and flashes of fear, fearless flashes of culture and sound from across the Indian subcontinent -- with a borderline concept-album obsession with Airport security in particular. And isn't that where it all comes to a head? Where you're trying to be a citizen of the world, and American authority has near-complete power.
Cashmere's never predictable: every line's packed with swerves, packed into twisty structures, in an album that can't sit still - it's wooly, daring, tense and __every once in a while__, a bit of goofy fun (Tiger Hologram!). All we can hope for right about now 4/5
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