We haven’t hit December yet but today had me in Christmas mode with the announcement of ‘new gear’ from the most promising MC in Melbourne. It’s called Yo El Rey (Spanish for ‘I The King’ – I lived in South America for a minute, no big deal) and is his third official drop for the year alongside the ‘Rodent’ and the more recent ‘Little Bum’. That last record had Pharrel leanings on the beat end with a little N.E.R.D and a little Neptunes shining through which wouldn’t be an unexpected influence for anyone across his side proj Coughman Neptune. Ya following me? Neptunes? Neptune? Ugh, stick with me here Aaron.

Anywho, ‘Yo El Rey’ can downright get it as far as I’m concerned. It’s the first offering from a joint project with fellow Melbournite producer Nikodimos who no doubt makes the shit out of a beat but shows his true strength in his adroit instrumentality. Hear that cutie flute? That’s your boy. The drums? The bass? It’s all Niko, my guy. This, incidentally, isn’t the first time the two have partnered up on track but they’ve certainly fine tuned it since.

So those first blissful flute lines you hear waterfalling over a percussive break might make you feel peaced up but Gung coming straight in with “We got ten more minutes m’fucker let’s go!” proves that mood quickly untrue. In contrast to the instrumental, the vocal is angular and agressive but it doesn’t remain so for the duration. His greatest strength has always been his capacity to navigate multiple voices which I’ve said again and again (ugh, I’m boring) and is one of the true marks of an ascendent MC. You want him at his most rageful or his hookiest? Have both on the one track, an absolute steal. Sure, you can ride a wave to the top of Billboard doing the same thing on every song from start to finish but why would ya when you’ve got all this is your arsenal?

I’m already hearing hints and rumours about the songs and collaborations Gung has coming in 2021 and lemme tell you… this boy is already on his way out the door and the guy Nikodimos is only hastening the moves.

Is this the most self-assured debut you’ve ever heard? Don’t lie to me now, is it? Pookie just shot out the blocks with explosive force, gunshot residue left behind her in the same rubble wreckage as scores of career MCs. Pookie leveled them in one, ‘Tuesday’ the weapon of choice, a record that’s one part laid back with an aperitif, other part hit list of names. Yeah there’s some of that bass manipulation and the beat is ~on point~ with those gliding 808s adding angles to what could have been a smooth record otherwise. But her flow, oh damn, her flow… seismic, explosive, confident, brilliant. She ducks and weaves through the record, not just in terms of rhythm and cadence but voice too. It’s that extra capacity for vocal melody that adds colour to the every verse and it’s what we’ve just seen Tkay do so accutely on Last Year Was Weird Vol. 2.

Real name Aćol Agaar Apollo, shes a proper MC, a south Sudanese Australian based in Melbourne with one foot down the throat of the emerging emerged hip-hop movement and the other planted with pride in Footscray. She’s teamed up with Baasto for the hooks on Tuesday, a track written in the dead-heart of Melbourne isolation, likely an influence on a record that’s centered around keeping a small circle and ‘riding solo’. Tuesday has the same consistency as liquid nitrogen- icey as hell yet somehow still likely to see you burnt, with yr guy suffering supreme frostbite as I dribble this text onto the blog. Big things guaranteed for Pookie or your Sound Doc patreon money back.

Websters dictionary defines fig as “some fruit shit, not entirely sure. maybe a vegetable, check wiki bitch”. And while some some say that the editors of Websters started dialing it in years back, I say they’re not far off the mark. This is some fruitful business from Noli Fig, playing all the sounds, doing all the recording from his bedroom. Some might even call this bedroom pop. Might you? I hear a little Methyl Ethel in the bassline with a combination of Jake Webb and Jordan Ireland in the vocal. Beautiful and off center with a voice that you could knock over in a stiff wind, this is the sort of record you roll about on your tongue for a while just to figure out the flavour. The fella who went and made it is Jordan Roe, Sydney based and that’s about all I know about him though to be fair I didn’t do a lot of digging. There’s an EP on bandcamp and this is the standout track, though do enjoy his eerie edit of the principal’s monologue from Billy Madison.

Something from Melbourne’s Ali Adriano that tastes like Enya meshed with Kllo synced to season 2 of The OC (coastal driving scenes only thanks). Self produced with her own sonorous vocal spinning in and out of flute(ish) sections like a double helix. She’s just two records deep and this one drew me in enough that I was willing to investigate the first one and look bud, they’re both strong, experiential bodies of sound that are more immersion that consumption. Worth a swim in this.

Look, I’ll level with you, I don’t care about UFC at all. Not my thing. Bit too violent, you feel me? There’s only so many times I need to see one person pummel the unconscious bloody head of another before I can say to myself “yessir, that’s just about enough thanks. I’ve had my fill”. And you know how much is my fill? None times. Nonetheless, even I know the Infamous Connor McGregor, lord mayor of early KOs and shit-talker of the highest order. Turns out the dude not only knows how to cause grievous bodily harm, but he’s also a mean-ass producer from Melbourne. Seems weird to me, but you can’t argue with this record and when you consider the purity of violence in his new track ‘Sweet’, it’s clear that they’re one and the same person.

Melbourne based, originally from Scotland, there’s more than a hint of UK garage as well as some extra percussive elements that mess with the breaks just enough to make it a little genre-indiscernible. He’s a fan of the ambient lead-in, the gentle introduction but once he hits his straps, he goes hard for the beat. Dying to see this dude chop a dancefloor apart.