Homeboy Sandman: There In Spirit Album Review – Pitchfork

Consistency and longevity have become the defining traits of Queens-native Homeboy Sandman, whose first EP turns 15 years old this month. Though nowhere near as verbose as his regular collaborator Aesop Rock, hes almost as prolific, with a consistent stream of albums and mixtapes under his belt, as well as full-length collaborations with the likes of Blu and Quelle Chris. His latest album There In Spirit, produced entirely by Detroit beatsmith and emcee Illingsworth, is more condensed than his previous solo records: It plays like an unassuming notebook more than a full-fledged piece of art.

While other backpack rappers might have spiraled off into abstraction, Homeboy Sandman has found a bluntness in maturity, bringing a deadpan precision and defined sense of melody to his flow. On the anthemic Stand Up, each couplet and bar comes together like two hands shaking, interlocked tightly together. The words arrive fairly directly, without much dense metaphor or description, his voice endowing even the simplest of words with a charismatic weight. Though hes capable of constructing dense bars and elaborate webs of words, theres a restraint to There In Spirit that feels slightly more intimate, an acknowledgement that sometimes the most straightforward word is the most evocative.

Sandmans more unguarded bars pair well with the enveloping beats of Detroit stalwart Illingsworth, who has previously appeared on records by Open Mike Eagle and R.A.P. Ferreira. Fittingly, his productions are somewhere between Dilla-ish soul chops and the cartoonish electronics of the L.A. beat scene. Illingsworths beats have an analog warmth, pulling samples of string tremolos, piano lines, and soothing vocals from soul and vintage pop, to most vivid effect on Voices (alright). But the production is not entirely a throwback, fused with electronic wonkiness, like the fluttering hi-hats and bassy synth lines on Keep That Same Energy. These are beats that sound like they were chopped up live on an MPC, unquantized and human even when flirting with more futuristic textures.

As he enters his 40s, Homeboy Sandman is more mindful and cautious, sounding like a rapper who has worked too hard to chase clout or confine himself to trends. With sarcastic defiance on album closer Epiphany, he declares a well-earned indifference to the opinions of critics, haters, or jealous peers: These people do not have swag. While hes concerned about the world at large, he ultimately keeps a cool distance by recognizing that those who would try to make him feel insecure are deeply dissatisfied themselves.

The key to his longevity is moving at a consistent pace, rather than dashing to get the first word in, like a veteran fighter choosing his blows carefully instead of rushing in hot. Hes more than able to pick up the tempo when he wants to, but here, he focuses on forming a melodic chain of allegory and slice-of-life-imagery, stretching his muscles more than flexing them. Repetition becomes a pointed rhetorical device, forming the very structure of his songs. Album opener Something Fly hinges on his inflection of the word something, which he clips and twists into a multitude of meanings. The hook of Stand UpIf you dont stand up, theyll never stopis repeated with a clipped ferocity more befitting a battle cry or mantra than a chorus.

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Homeboy Sandman: There In Spirit Album Review - Pitchfork