For a lot of people, this is the album that put Aesop Rock at the forefront of underground hip-hop. Slug’s outfit Atmosphere had more albums and more fans, but they didn’t have an album to rally the people around. With Labor Days, Aesop gave the ambassadors and critics of independent hip-hop something to point at and say “there, that is what we are talking about.” Along with Cannibal Ox’s Cold Vein, this album put Def Jux on the map. On Labor Days, Aes focuses completely on the dissatisfaction that comes with 9-to-5 jobs, and the difficulty of making a living as a creative person in the 21st century (and this was before the financial crash), which tied his attitude into pre-gangsta hip-hop philosophy, and made him relatable to more privileged creative types at the same time. Given all the ink that’s been written about Labor Days, diving into the albums lyrical and musical content can be tough. It’s a somewhat inaccessible album, as hookless and low-key as MF Doom’s Madvillainy is. Labor Days marks the height of Aes’s long-running collaboration with Blockhead, and the producer serves up a relatively dark and low-key series of beats. Without Aes, the Labor Days beats would still prove to be a relaxing, if melancholy, instrumental suite. His mix focuses on his trip-hop influences, with behind-the-beat jazz samples propping up sparse horn and string sections with a healthy dose of vaguely ethnic ‘world music’ percussion elements, most prominently on “Battery.”

Aes’ verses, however, show a newly energized fervor. The ferocity he displayed on the earlier “Big Bang” single comes out to play all over Labor Days. “Right I’ma give it to ya, with no trivia/ raw like that Aesop Rock iron-fisted bliss milita” on the Wu-Tang-referencing “Boombox.” He speeds ahead of the beats, his voice barely restraining a reservoir of frustration. It often sounds as if he’s vocally pushing against Bockhead’s lethargy — an impression that dovetails nicely with his lyrics’ constant railing against consumer culture. Aes’ “Year of the ___” verse on “9-5’ers Anthem” stands as maybe the crowning moment of his flow and lyricism. To wit: “It’s the year of the landshark/ Dry as sand, parched, damn get these men some water/ They’re out there being slaughtered/ In meaningless wars so you don’t have to bother/ And can sit and soak the idiotbox trying to fuck their daughters.” But it’s not all sturm und drang: he shows a narrative acumen absent from his earlier work on Labor Days, especially on the song “No Regrets,” which chronicles the entire life of one woman, Lucy, from childhood to death.