A very strange thing happened to us that hasn’t happened in a long while: we listened to an Atmosphere album and actually, kind of, in a weird way, liked it. If one were to graph the artistic merit and overall enjoyable qualities of Atmosphere’s albums over the last ten years it would be the curve of an old hammock that has seen one too many fat asses. Since the release of Lucy Ford in 2000 Atmosphere has released albums that were progressively shittier and shittier. Ah, but something must have changed: Atmosphere’s latest release When Life Gives You Lemons, You Paint That Shit Gold seems to show more refined group; Ant abandons his usual thrown together samples and thin, tinny drum hits in lieu of more organic, polished sounds. Slug, Atmosphere’s front man, also seems to have progressed, choosing narratives and vignettes of fictional characters as opposed to his usual, sort of smart, but forced, emotional musings that are mental dry HJs.
So are these men deserving of a couple of cold ones? Fuck no. These two sad sacks have sent a message to every melancholy white boy living in the suburbs that it’s okay to throw together a flimsy beat using a pirated copy of Fruity Loops and rap about being sad over it. Is it possible that we are treading on Tipper Gore’s territory here? Clearly not. No suit wearing Frank Zappa will come to Atmosphere’s rescue on this one. John Denver will not throw his denim-clad body in the way of our angry fists. This is not a case of Darling Nikki playing with her little cooter. No, this is a case of millions of young men sagging their jeans, saying the word ‘dope’ way too often, wearing backpacks to concerts and playing with their little cooters into Garage Band. You’ve corrupted America’s youth, Atmosphere. Suck it up and take it like a man for once.