A gong and the vocal intro take us into this grime track out of Toronto. The vocals are courtesy Wiley, whose lyrical flow is British grimey rudeboi genius. Wiley is a self-proclaimed king as far as this track is concerned, but I bow my head and take a knee in his presence.
Freeza Chin’s edit of “Eskimo Dance” is really the opposite of what I picture when reading the title. It is hard enough to rage to music this hot and deep with Parkas, and snow gear on, all layered up and buried in the polar vortex this winter. I can’t even imagine how and eskimo gets down. Either way, he’d be sweating in that heavy coat, but this jungle and rhythmic blowing of wind pipes creating waves in the air. The bass and the ladies singing in the background the sweet sounding synths liquified.
It just attacked my ears and invaded my system down into my gut.
It is gross, and I mean that in the highest from of compliments. Every piece of it. I fucks with it. The down low melody and tempo of the instrumentals melt together in the backdrop of crisp, quick poetic and prophetic vocals. The two elements are two different elements, but together they work together in a way that leaves me face sorta twisted up in knots. Along with my belly.
Honestly, this track is on that gangster tip. Simultaneously fire and chill at once. Freeza and Wiley hot fire doing an eskimo dance that makes sense of all those opposing but attracted forces.