in a 90's uplifting-cheesy hardcore style in a nod to his beginnings as a DJ, the tight beat kicks in as Bobby starts rip-rapping about the daily grind, and using one's hard work and creativity to rise above wage slavery. Chorus repeats, then a short trancy piano middle introduces Deadline's verse about missed opportunity and ferocious desire to succeed. Suddenly 'To Much Thinking' drops with a clattering bang of drums, distorted synth bass, percussive clicks and an on-the-beat staccato chant of a chorus. The verses come across like an angry lecture in exposition and crafted extemporisation. All along the synths saw and wheedle like a Bond villain torture chamber.
Song after song until all seven are spoken of; I could go that way, but to be honest what am I doing? They are not available yet, and are surely forming part of a larger work, an album – for yes, albums are still and always will be the best and brightest way to consume and contain music. I shouldn't and wouldn't give too much away; and any way, a description of music is no substitute for hearing it. Chomp and champ at your bit in furious anticipation of this music hitting the marketplace. Modern Medicine are on the way. Two members of Modern Medicine previously struggled and fought for years to produce their album (the unreleased masterpiece The Tri-Spectrum Argument Phenomenon), yet the seven songs I have been listening to were crafted relatively off-the-cuff in a matter of weeks. They are highly musical, yet have an explosive immediacy. Some are party bangers and some do what is so rarely done in hip-hop: successfully express positive, healthy and constructive emotion. Modern Medicine is different and special; it's danceable, but deserves contemplation. It is literature ... if that's what you're in to; and if not, just dance.