Nevermen - Nevermen (2016) / Experimental, Alternative, Hip-Hop

Back in 2009, Idaho poet-rapper Adam Drucker (aka Doseone, also of Themselves and Subtle) announced the birth of a hydra known as Nevermen, a collaboration between himself, Faith No More's Mike Patton, and TV on the Radio's Tunde Adebimpe. The trio of frontmen were to be joined by visual artists the Chapman Brothers, two members of the Young British Artists movement, whose job was to translate the music to a visual medium. Seven years of silence later, the Chapmans are out, along with the project's multimedia ambitions. But not this 10-track album; they've kept their word.
Nevermen may only be a trio (and a trio of frontmen, natch) but each member of the group brings an unexpectedly diverse stylistic palette to the record. Adebimpe represents the weird-yet-relatable world of indie rock, while Doseone offers lyrical abstractions like "barbed wire on pollen" and "man hands on fire" as if they've been on his mind for days. And, of course, there's Patton: As the ringleader of a hard rock band known for genre experiments—not to mention a chronic collaborator who's worked with everyone from Norah Jones to Dan the Automator—there's nothing the chameleonic Patton can't do, and his fingerprints are all over Nevermen: on "Non Babylon"'s extended, faintly-operatic outtro (a freakout that wouldn't feel out of place on Faith No More's recent Sol Invictus), on the carnal, Slick Rick-referencing "Treat Em Right" (the chorus? "Treat 'em like a prostitute") and all over the mixing boards, which belie Patton's penchant for sinister contrasts (glitzy funk against distorted industrial samples, seas of guitar strata that engulf all rhythm and melody).
Indeed, Nevermen's a very Patton-y album, coming off alternately as the poppy spiritual descendent of Mr. Bungle, or, on the weaker tracks, an unfocused, ornery answer to Peeping Tom—but where Patton yowled all over those releases, he's less of a vocal presence on Nevermen, which gives Adebimpe and Doseone's voices more attention. Rather than encourage his partners' cartoonish mischief, Adebimpe acts as referee, constructing his melodies to act as both common ground and common sense. As with TV on the Radio, his role in Nevermen lays in function rather than finesse, clarity over crescendoes—so it doesn't come as a huge surprise that his humble hooks on tracks like "Mr. Mistake" and "Tough Towns" rely on chirpy, garden-variety melodies. Were it not for Adebimpe's restrained, ever-so-atonal hook, "Shellshot" would collapse under the weight of its own edginess long before the ghastly Linkin Park outro; a similarly glam, glib refrain redeems "Treat Em Right," and his adamant "to the hell NO!" on "Dark Ear" is the closest Nevermen come to a fist-pumping, lighters-up moment.
Nobody's accusing the band of being short on ideas—after seven years, they've assembled an extensive playbook indeed—but flitting from one chrome plaything to another gets exhausting quickly, especially when the toys in question are post-grunge, glitchy rap-rock (remember Flobots?), and impassable swathes of steel-wool synths. Imagine three demonic, wailing brats yanking you by the wrist through the toy store, straining in every direction to grab every last bauble off the shelves and shove it in your face: That's what listening to Nevermen is like. The album's best songs ("Tough Towns," "Fame II the Wreckoning," "Treat Em Right") temper the stream-of-consciousness and ramp up the atmosphere instead. When they resist the urge to troll (tell me a sardonic chorus that goes "Just like a tactical maniac/ I WANNA SHOOT YOUU" isn't trolling), Nevermen possess a deadly grace befitting Doseone's beloved hydra metaphor; for now, those necks are tangled.