As summer approaches, Typical Cats return with another gem, a blistering slab of frosted lunacy entitled Bitter Cold. One of a constellation of Qwel solo shots from TC’s latest (3, G4), Bitter Cold marries a sinister Natural beat that swings like a gypsy funeral with inspired verses from TC’s resident embedded journalist. Qwel rasps like a man knocking at the lid of his coffin. He examines the rampant nihilism of post-Keef Chicago while sparring pugilistic drums and a swirling zydeco sample.
“It’s all love so they say / but it don’t cost and it don’t pay / somehow he lost his way up in this maze / and the world turned him cold…” With another long hot summer looming over the city, TC aims for the antidote.