Los: Raquel Baby

"The stories of his reliably built, relentlessly grayscale world are thick to the point of suffocation with granular details of underworld operations. His music is unflinching and unglamorous, the kind of leaden street reporting that feels close enough to touch but distant and glassy-eyed, delivered with matter-of-fact gruffness. Negotiations go bad, burner phones ring off the hook, and houses smell of tar from whatever's bubbling on the stove."

"There isn't much information to be found about the record aside from the cover art and tracklist-you'll have to scan the comments of each YouTube upload in hopes that the producer has claimed the credit-but it's more considered than a stopgap upload meant to clear space on the studio hard drive. At a swift 21 minutes, it's as lean, efficient, and hard-nosed as any of his past solo work, but it manages to stretch into strange, adventurous territory."

Los builds relentlessly grayscale narratives full of granular underworld detail, delivering unflinching, unglamorous street reporting with matter-of-fact gruffness. The music features negotiations gone wrong, burner phones, and domestic scenes scented by tar from drugs bubbling on the stove. Los and his brother WB Nutty remain prolific as a unit while preserving space between releases. Raquel Baby appeared quietly on DSPs on Christmas Day with minimal promotion. The 21-minute album is lean, efficient, and hard-nosed yet ventures into strange, adventurous territory. The opening cut repurposes mentions of "Raquel" into a devotional declaration of family, life, and dedication to the game.

Read at Pitchfork