One thing is certain with CX Kidtronik on his debut—he has thoroughly covered everything to do with crack of any kind. Krak Attack, as evidenced by the female ass-cracked album art, is a celebrated mess of booty krak, cleavage krak, krazy krak, and crack-pipe krak. The all-over-the-place ADD dream is exactly how Sound-Ink so strangely describes KA—as a “fuckedest concept LP.” Whatever that means, Krak Attack is a cracked out wacky smack attack.
Throughout the lengthy but short 32-track mayhem, CX explores nearly everything. The LP plays like a bizarre concoction of hardcore hip-hop and a punk inflicted electro/grime beast. From the insane computer sounds gone wrong on “Bloody Biscuits” or the clangy noise on migraine-inducing “Bang Out,” CX acts like a video-game freakazoid, twiddling and adjusting every knob and button available. KA is a beat-mashing, bass thumping, ass-rumpin’ kranked-out and regurgitated platter of crack-induced smokables.
CX is no stranger to infusing unusual elements and daring audiences. In the early ‘90s, as the producer of the Atlanta super-group K.I.N. (along with Saul Williams), CK helped introduce the masses to their high energy hip-hop/ industrial mosh-pit antics that influenced groups like Cypress Hill. Furthermore CX contributed to the creation of the ATL dirty south vibe (Outkast), putting the “dirty” into the mid-90s Southern laced hip-hop sound.
Here though, as if trying to create some new sort of hip-hop/rap conglomeration, he fails miserably. Badly underproduced and unfocused, KA is so scattered that it’s a wonder that he didn’t bond with his crack pipe before producing it. Without the help of guest appearances of such notables like Ramm:ell:zee “Tricky Dick,” Zion of Zion I “Get Back Go,” or Kong on the crushing bass-boomer “Sky Is My Roof,” KA would fizzle quicker than the crack rock in a dirty pipe.
While KA is an entertaining listen, it’s lessened due to its pure absurdity. It comes off as a novelty item that represents hip-hop gone wrong. Just what happened to the days of the cutting edge style? Perhaps those days have long fizzled away—like the brains of those addicted to crack.
