Well, thank the great Bonhomme that Loco Locass don’t wear those stupid blue-and-white jester hats any more – that can only help their music. All the verbose wordplay is impressive and exhausting. Playful, not-so-subtly political, unabashedly provincial in a Québécois kinda way, bursting with young rage and poetic, nationalist pride, though it might be too clever for its own good. The flows are impassioned, deliciously colloquial and a little on the white side. There are enough juicy, samply sounds and live performances to dirty up the otherwise rather clinical beats, and the whole album has a tight, integrated vibe. Flirts with being overwrought, but details like the folky Quebec fiddle vibe they fuck with are twisted, brave and dope as hell.