Constellation Dirtbike Head
This album is vulgarity personified, but not in the same way as Velvet Underground or gangster rap. Tobacco, as part of an artistic vision, makes the grossest, sickest, brashest music possible. It’s art in the sense that a photograph of wet ashes outside a nightclub in Atlanta is art. It may seem like I’m insulting this album rather than recommending it, but give it a shot. It’s a convoluted aural spectacle that takes the EDM rule book, throws it out the window, and gives it the middle finger while remaining strangely danceable and listenable.