There is a scene in “High Fidelity” when the protagonist enters his record store and his two employees are sitting in silent frustration, listening intently to the music playing through the store’s speakers. He comes to find that not only was the music made by the two skateboard punks he caught shoplifting from the store a few weeks prior, but that it’s also, as confirmed by his two employees, “really fucking good”.
I felt the same way when I first saw ℞$ (AKA Prescription Cash) perform at the annual Iowa experimental music festival, Zeitgeist. Between sets of harsh noise and ambient drone, the Des Moines/Minneapolis avant hip-hop duo came out armed only with the neurotic grip of a microphone and an array of thick bass beats and absolutely killed it.
A week later, I was pouring over the numerous releases in the flash drive I picked up from them, and was immediately in contact about putting out “Empty $ouls Cash Out”. I’ve always had an interest in some of the darker corners of hip-hop, and many Warm Gospel releases have been rooted of some of the more experimental forms of hip-hop production.
But, ℞$ is less rooted in the dusty, sample-based grooves of more classic beats, and more heavily influenced by the modern production-heavy, loose enunciation of so much of contemporary hip-hop.