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Atlanta's
Faust and his turntablist compadres certainly know their hip-hop history.
Or at least, public hip-hop history, as they scratch through every jeep-beat
classic from the last ten years or so. Why show off the underground when
you are the underground? And his technical agility can't be faulted, as
he cuts beats together with an intelligent, rhythmic aplomb, although
things are so necessarily micro-managed that it sometimes ends up sounding
a bit like progressive rock. But this is one of the paradoxes of the ever
strengthening turntablist genre. This hour-long CD is a single indexed
track, which creates unnecessary ill-will. But isn't "ill" a compliment? Track Listing: 1.
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