Apostle Of Hustle - Eats Darkness

There is an uneven nature to the new Apostle Of Hustle record that seems to be almost intentional, as if head Hustler (and Broken Social Scene member) Andrew Whiteman is trying to keep his fans off of his trail by taking radical, surprising turns down various musical paths. It’s all quite disorienting. So much so that you really have no idea what you’re going to hear next, but the problem is, by that point do you even care anymore? There is enough here to keep you intrigued, but nothing that draws you in to stay. ‘Eats Darkness’ strains so hard against tidy classifications that what you are left with are hints of questions rather than any cohesive, definitive answers.

Whiteman has stated that this album is ‘is a serial poem about some struggles people go through… Each track is like tapas at the banquet of conflict.’ So, with that rather confusing theme as a backdrop, the inconsistent tendencies of the songs themselves only adds to the general feeling of perplexity that permeates the work. That’s not to say that there aren’t highlights, there just aren’t enough of them to continually hold one’s interest. Even the joke about snakes that starts the record is jarring and unexpected, and lays an unsteady foundation that the rest of the album only serves to contribute to. ‘Eazy Speaks’ is a bouncy, Peter Gabriel-like number that apparently is an homage to ‘deceased poet in L.A.’ Eazy-E. That odd balance is a good representative of the peculiar bent to this record, where styles and genres often clash and blur, with rather unpredictable results. ‘Soul Unwind’ is a rather innocuous, harmless track that breezes by pleasantly enough, never really offending nor going anywhere all that memorable either.

‘Perfect Fit’ is a dub-reggae misstep about credit cards, amongst other things. It is utterly forgettable. ‘Xerses’ is probably the best song on the record, a buoyant, catchy number that exemplifies Whiteman’s ability (along with fellow AoH members Julian Brown on bass and Dean Stone on drums) to write a solid pop song when he rids himself of his more complex leanings. It’s a simple song that doesn’t overreach and works well due to its straightforwardness. ‘Whistle In The Fog’ sounds like a strange mixture between Tapes ‘n Tapes ‘Just Drums’ and the more experimental side of the Dirty Projectors. It turns out worse than it sounds. The album’s title track is just more self-indulgent wankery, not pleasant to listen to or substantial in any way.

‘How To Defeat A More Powerful Enemy’ perhaps speaks to the theme of the record as openly as any song on the album, and rather than get bogged down by the weighty subject manner, the song is actually a lark, at least musically. It avoids the self-seriousness trap that songs like this often fall into, and playfully thrives as a result. ‘Blackberry’ really closes out the album well, and, coincidentally enough, shares the most similarities with the recognizable sound of BSS. It seems like Whiteman was very careful to not tread to closely to the sound of his more well-known ‘other band,’ but in that desire to be different, he sacrificed both song structure and tunefulness in exchange for uneven experimentation that frequently bogs the album down with a lot of forgettable moments. It’s a shame, really, because Whiteman is an extremely creative and talented individual, but those gifts just don’t come through enough on ‘Eats Darkness’.