Drawing the parallel between kindred spirits by re-interpolating Mos Def's Body Rock for Carrottro, the LP sprinkles a dash of Madlib, Kanye West warmth and Moka's own organic jazz funk into yet another whimsical collection of work.
Psy of the Oddities plays narrator, imploring you to "soak yourself in everything the egg has to offer and the carrot will do to you," whatever that means. Pure Moka. And Buck 65 joins in the insanity, too.(Yay!) Moka Only's short and sweet concoctions are still coming up as fresh as Vermilion and better than Clap Trap. More ripe concepts, seamless sequencing, plus features like Pharcyde's Bootie Brown philosophizing on Hardly Say and Sadat X waxing nostalgic on The New Era B-Boy Pockets certifies this album as straight-up dope.
Moka cooks up some food for thought about the feast of life with fresh ideas, but what's wrong? Why don't the masses bite? Is he too insular? I doubt it. The music shines, I see ads online, he tours and does videos. And people still sleep on his unique catalogue. Canadian rap is outta control. Just scrambled.
Top track: Hardly Say