Mach-Hommy is not made for these times, both as an artist and as a businessman. The Haitian-American rapper from Newark has precious little available for streaming and is practically a phantom on social media. It’s actually hard to think of any time his practice of selling limited quantities of projects with price tags of up to $1,000 would be in vogue. He explained his gouging in a rare interview with Billboard earlier this year: “I’m not really on that quantity over quality. I’m on a different wavelength. It’s going to be approached with reverence and a whole lot of respect, by me first and foremost. Then, whoever I engage with is going to have to show me that same reverence and respect.”

It might seem arrogant and absurd beyond all logic, but Mach-Hommy’s belief in the value of his art holds weight, given how many projects on his website are tagged as “sold out.” If you’re willing to drop a month’s rent on one album, then you’ve already set your expectations pretty sky-high, but the testimony of Earl Sweatshirt should surely be worth something, no? On Tuez-Les Tous, his collaboration with revered producer DJ Muggs (of Cypress Hill fame), he creates one of the grimiest and most absorbing albums in recent memory.

Formerly affiliated with Griselda, Mach has a similar affinity as Westside Gunn and Conway for transplanting you into the urban underbelly. It’s neither glorification of crime nor condemnation of those stuck in a cycle. He’s so adept at narrating these accounts, you can forget that he’s even rapping. His terse delivery comes out so naturally, it’s as though he’s speaking off-the-cuff about the reality of his surroundings. The very opening line is an aside that allows him to be deadpan and real: “I need 93 million miles of personal space.”

You could call it throwback rap, and this could’ve been an underground legend in the 90s, but what’s so admirable is how Mach and Muggs pull off a project that’s never trying to just tread nostalgic waters. Tuez-Les Tous is raw but also flavored incredibly. Muggs fills his beats with diverse instrumentation and moods, from piano that’s alternately menacing and moving to more. Listening to ‘900K’ is like hearing fragments of conversations from decades past lingering in the room. ‘Lajan Jwif’ is absorbed by ringing electric guitar chords. One of the only negatives is that the sitar sampled in ‘NTM’ cuts out much earlier than it should.

Don’t think that Muggs puts in all the creative energy. Mach makes it look easy, but he’s equally responsible for how much life this project has. He contributes possibly-laryngitis-inducing barks of “Fuck you” on ‘Lajan Jwif’, singing on the potent ‘Piotr’ (“Pulitzers is now involved/word to Kung Fu Kenny, I knew this earth was kinda small”), and even throws in some “boing” ab-libs after comparing a foe to Tigger. Though there’s no direct acknowledgment of his producer, the respect Mach has for him letting him think as outside-the-box as possible is palpable.

Tuez-Les Tous is a spectacular showcase not only for Mach and Muggs but also for other MCs. Atlanta’s Kungg-Fuu nearly steals opener ‘2 Second Style’ with his hot verse. Another Atlantan, Big Cheeko, brings a croaky vitality to the harsh lessons of ‘Spent Casings’. Meyhem Lauren lives up to his name with a full-bodied performance on ‘Wet Bally.’ Finally, regular Mach-collaborator (and yet another Atlanta voice) Tha God Fahim lends his urgency to two tracks: ‘Kouign-amann’ and ‘Spent Casings' (Editor's note: four, on the expanded album released today).

There are enough artists trying to do what Mach-Hommy and DJ Muggs accomplish that hearing it done this well can almost be surreal. Hip-hop isn’t great on the condition of sounding “old school” or shying away from materialism. It’s great when made with the intention to connect to an audience and bring forth the power of all kinds of voices. And you can’t put a price on that.