I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead (2007)

I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead (2007)

El-P has not pushed himself, and the boundaries of what his take on hip-hop could be, so far as on I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead. Not only does it represent the largest leap in vocal ability and production acumen in his career, but it’s also his strongest output. This album saw El finally shed his sample-based production aesthetic in favor of a sound fully composed and created in studio with a mix of live and digital instrumentation. Many of these songs fully embrace his progressive rock leanings, creating multi-part, sometimes five-plus minute suites — for example, Cedric of the Mars Volta contributes vocals and a guitar lick to opener “Tasmanian Pain Coaster.” That song in particular shows off an expanded set of dynamics, transforming from a sample from the film Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me into El’s spoken-word recollection of a chance meeting with an old friend on New York City’s A-line and finally exploding into a rocking mix of hip hop and jazz fusion. The Mars Volta frontman is but one of several prominent guests who make substantial contributions to I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead, and few of them hail from the hip-hop community. Trent Reznor (at this point El’s last obvious influence) sings the vocal hook on “Flyentology,” while Cat Power’s vocal turn on closing track “Poisenville Kids No Wins/Reprise” makes for one of the most dramatic and tender moments in his discography. Aesop Rock and Cage also trade verses back to back on “Run The Numbers” and “Habeas Corpses,” a pair of El’s most political tracks accusing the United States government of setting up 9/11 and comparing military deployment to slave ships, respectively. Even with such excessive accoutrement, El is the most interesting player on the album. The aggressive motor-mouthed approach that typified his earlier career reaches its apex in intensity and syllables-per-measure on career-highlight “Smithereens (Stop Cryin),” but elsewhere he switches up his flow in new and fascinating ways. He slows himself down on “The Overly Dramatic Truth,” and in so doing delivers his jaded meditations on his own sex life in a clearer and more direct way than his younger self seemed capable of. That song in particular finds its echoes on “The League Of Extraordinary Nobodies,” where El, for the first time, manages to balance his neuroses with his penchants for both introspection and identifying corruption in the world around him. Sonically, I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead pushed El into his fullest and most expansive areas as a composer, and matching those sounds with more mature poetry. His words here feel like the logical evolution of his younger, radical self — he never abandoned his hatred for monoculture and clandestine organization, but presents them in a more poignant way. It’s a rare forward-thinking hip-hop release from one of the underground’s most persistent innovators.