Posted on 06/02/2009
Superstar Quamallah’s latest album is named after that most famous of Ralph Ellison’s writings, and Quamallah goes out of his way in the liner notes to acknowledge his own identification with this concept, ultimately concluding that this invisibility gives him the freedom to be himself. Invisible Man is clearly a sincere work, and a good sense of the artist comes through, but with this internal consistency comes a strong nostalgia, providing much of the album’s character, reflected most obviously in titles like “88 Soul” and “1993 Sh*t.” The music and vocal style are mostly in this golden-era guise, certainly not unusual in underground hip-hop, but not always so unabashedly on-the-sleeve, either.

It may be worth pointing out that Quamallah also teaches at Berkeley, and some of this focus on the past seems like an extensive history lesson as much as it is a reflection of the performer’s tastes. References to classic hip-hop artists, lyrics, or other facets of black history and culture are abundant, admonishing modern hip-hop culture on occasion for not being as conscious (“you don’t even know who that is” following one reference). More often than not, however, he eschews a critical atmosphere in favor of a personal approach, rendering the lyrics more relatable than strictly educational. A track like “Purity” is perhaps most emblematic, combining something of this personal experience with a roll call of classic hip-hop breakers and musicians, the last verse being dedicated to educators in general.

The production is based in classic boom-bap type beats, sample-based, and is mostly darker or moodier in atmosphere. Many of the samples are jazz and soul derived, also consistent with the particular period in hip-hop serving as inspiration. Quamallah himself produces one of the tracks (“Black Shakespeare”) and provides scratches on most of the rest. The album is unified both in terms of lyrical and musical content, which does a lot to contribute to the perception of a personal and internally consistent work. While it seems successful in terms of these personal intentions, there may be room for doubt as far as it’s larger impact, whether or not the nostalgia might be so excessive as to reflect a kind of detachment, or at worst a mere recycling of ideas already expressed. The strong sense of individual identity from Quamallah prevents the album from being entirely cliché, but the strong sense of history hanging over Invisible Man also prevents it from being entirely fresh.

- Justin Deremo