Though this album, too, is full of offbeat and athletic bars-clearly, the work of the same guys-the familiar soothsayer mysticism often feels like it’s been laid on too thick, or just misplaced. But Ronin feels ponderous and self-conscious in a way that is at odds with the unfettered creative spirit of their first effort. Both are distinctly overwhelming sets of songs-collections of dense verses strung between equally verbose refrains-backed by hazy samples, damaged synth insulation and chunky breakbeats. In some ways, the album resembles its predecessor. It’s arrived, by way of their own Iron Galaxy Records, in the form of the sprawling 19-track collection Blade of the Ronin. Following a string of one-off reunions on Vast’s solo albums, the two rappers have been crying wolf about a new full-length for the last few years. They fell out with El-P, cut their ties at Def Jux, and mostly receded from view.
In the decade and a half since the release of The Cold Vein, Cannibal Ox have released only a few songs together.
