Rap music has many vessels claiming to be the voice of freshness. This proclamation usually comes from a hoody-shadowed, gun slinging figure whose declaration of originality is almost satirical. But, what if that voice is Fisheye, made up of DJ Stef-Eye and Tomasia straight from the NYC? The duo caters to the weird pariahs who are written out of Hip-Hop scrolls: those eccentric hair-do having, television blind, abandoned subway going…geniuses.

Death of the Fresh might be a bit uncomfortable at first. On paper, DJ Stef Eye and Tomasia are two young light-skinned girls who do Hip-Hop. They rock green bangs on the album’s cover, they paint their toenails green, and they’ve had their fingernails done long and sharp like animal kingdom predators. But bar all the eccentricity, and Fisheye enchants their fans with ethereal instrumentation and SAT-word filled lyrics.

Death of the Fresh finds its foundation in its many beatbox derived tracks. Songs like "Cyclical" give Fisheye’s musical approach a distinctly Hip-Hop tinge. It’s almost as if the duo recorded their LP on a breakdancer’s cardboard, inspired by a dj’s scratch, a graffiti writer’s spray can, and Bronx’s block cipher all at the same time. The harmonic schizophrenia best plays out on "Memory Lane", where Tomasia offers a series of vignettes based on characters who represent society at large. She narrates, "My name is Mr. Chemist/ Work for the Central Intelligence/ To create the cheapest, strongest form of cocaine in existence/ That was back in ’77 to be exact/ Shortly after LA ghettoes were the first ones hit with crack." Tomasia’s rhymes are like a hybrid between MC Lyte and Angela Davis, a poisonous combination.

However, Death of the Fresh is too minimalist at times, which is a tallymark against the Fisheye’s newest product. Beatboxing is the skeleton of Hip-Hop, and though skeletons are important, the album’s production needs some more flesh to layer its percussion with. Also, there are cuts on the album that are too electronica to be brought out of the avante-garde downtown techno that they usually call home. Tracks like "Maybe I Could Jus…" samples one line and carries it on for four and a half minutes of pointless psychedelic ambiance.

Death of the Fresh does have some momentum behind it, but the opus is an acquired taste. Yet, it remains to be seen how the duo will mature in time. 

- Sidik Fofana