JOHAN SEBASTIAN BACHLAVA THE DOCTOR IS GREAT
On his mother’s 80th birthday, after over a decade in Rap, Action Bronson released his first independent album: JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACHLAVA THE DOCTOR. The album follows Bronson’s tradition of semi-abstract, self-drawn covers that began with 2018’s White Bronco, but what’s slightly different, is that it’s the first to feature straight text, including a scarlet stand-in for the tired Parental Advisory sticker reading, “contains FOUL language”, and this subtle change reflects the pointedness that Bronson brings to every second of Dr. Bachlava’s journey. He’s crass in such a way that an old church lady really might decry as foul!, but at every turn he knows just where he’s going and what’s waiting there for him. On this new Album, Action Bronson as Dr. Bachlava maintains his amorphous, psychedelic mystique, but sounds as crisply visionary as ever.
The album’s opening, SPLASH (PROVOCATIVE), is a lush and laidback city-pop vibe that eases into the hectic 20-odd minutes that will follow, relishing in the luxury of this fictionalized Bronson’s life but wearily remembering that everything is fleeting and that he must live “Vlone''. Primed for takeoff, SEGA launches into a circusy organ riff that makes Bronson sound like he’s drunkenly stumbling through a bar fight, with ad-libs that hoot and howl constantly but not annoyingly, adding to the addictive topsy-turvy swag set out by the leading organ (I especially love his impersonation of the SEGA boot-up sound). There are great lines all over this song, but I think they hit best like punches, and I don’t want to rob you of the chance to be caught off-guard. NOURISH A THUG fills out a spectacular opening to the album, zooming in on Dr. Bachlava on the run from the police over a beautiful coked-out groove dripping in sweaty ‘70s action movie swag which Bronson adorns with more genius bars.
HIDEO NOMO finds Bachlava in a less tense moment, as he raps straight over a persistent, trumpet-led loop. While at first it’s jarringly stripped-back for what could be expected of this album, it holds your interest with a sequence of lines as visually striking as “let the thing pop with the Ring Pop on my finger”. The guitar solo that ends the song ties it all together to paint a picture of Dr. Bachlava rapping from under the stars as he roasts a hot dog and decompresses from a day’s chase with the law. But on SALVAJE, the fugitive Bach is back on the creep over a bewitching harpsichord and bongo combo. Again Bach delivers lyrically, this time with bars about disappearing into moon dust, licking toads, and the sounds of dying turkeys that again I’d hate to spoil.
This reprieve fires back up into a funk jam on HOGAN, on which Dr. Bachlava ventures incognito into the world of the rich and famous with the finesse of a silver-screen spy. Again the visuals are on point: hilarious and absurd but also poignant and intriguing. This song also has the first lyrical feature on the album with a verse from Meyhem Lauren, who drops the gem “bulletproof armor can’t protect you from terrible karma” and positions himself perfectly to open up CITRUS WAHOO. The verses on the latter are packed with dumbfounding visions of tripping on psychedelics while prepping chicken and shooting uzis off of motorbikes. They combine with the outlandish piano stabs and synth runs of the beat to be dizzying in the best way possible.
KOMPRESSOR lulls us back into the slow jams, with a beautifully assembled and cool-as-hell smooth jazz backing track over which Bronson once again does his best to write a movie script on wax, with the outstanding line, “How you trying to be a thug in front of the moon?”. Larry June’s verse is another highlight, featuring a scene of him gazing at Alcatraz between buying bagels and going to watch Tubi at his mansion.
To begin the end, Dr. Bach and the Alchemist deliver a final brag attack with NBA LEATHER ON NBC. Bachlava’s verses are unrelentingly visionary, shifting from the hitherto worship of the moon to being guided by the sun on a hot-step, jabby track with a harmonica going crazy in the background. SHADOW REALM is drums-free and fucking fantastic from the first word. It’s high-end, reflective, and epic but dialed back, with a classic Italian crooner sample and more unbelievable ad-libs. And to close it all out, DOCTOR slides in through the crack under the door like the angel of death, with a heart monitor’s beeps blended into a mobster-movie guitar riff. Bronson’s visual storytelling is at an extreme here, grimy and utterly dramatic. It’s cold, thoughtful, and discomforting, a far cry from the sounds of the opener Splash, which in hindsight leaves you wondering, “How is it already over?”, but certainly glad it all happened.
Action Bronson has put together something truly special with this album. No review could do it justice, as it operates in the realm of psychedelic experiences and movie explosions. Every second washes over you without waiting for you to figure out what the hell is going on until finally you catch bits and pieces of the lone werewolf Dr. Bachlava’s character and he moves on again to more fascinating hijinks. The writing is just as absurdly hilarious as it is philosophical, with Action Bronson gracefully walking the line between sincere concern and fuck-you disregard like a man who speaks loudly and crassly wherever he goes but takes his hat off in restaurants because, at the end of the day, he’s not a slob.