Chester Watson is the whole package—he produces, writes, and raps. That last one should be read with a special emphasis—Watson can rap his ass off, even if his cold and calculated delivery doesn't grab you by the throat with its intensity. But for those who lean in and listen, there's a whole world to discover.

There are strains of MF DOOM in this monotone samurai's delivery, but Watson's real sonic ancestor is Earl Sweatshirt—that nihilistic, deep-voiced darkness is evolving before our ears. The whole Past Cloaks album is great, but if you want a quick entry point, start with "Wicked" or "Spliffs."

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