Futuristic has never been the word of choice when discussing hip-hop. There are a few exceptions to this statement - Deltron 3030’s self-titled album, Run the Jewels’ RTJ3, Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp A Butterfly, or any Danny Brown or Death Grips release — but the world in which hip-hop currently resides is heavily divided by old school, gangster-rap revivalists and dumbed-down mumblers who somehow keep making Top 10 charts internationally. So, what do you get when you have a studio full of seasoned Midwest emcees and producers, fed up with contemporary hip-hop discourse? A mammoth and — if I may — futuristic collection of balls-to-the-wall bangers, perhaps?

When the Midwest hip-hop conglomerate Doomtree announced that they would be going on an extended hiatus, some assumed the worst. But, within months, each Doomtree-affiliated artist dropped full-length albums — Sim’s More Than Ever; P.O.S’ Chill, dummy; Paper Tiger’s In Other Words — each album resulting in a content fan base. So, when Doomtree announced that a few of their most popular acts planned on dropping a collaboration in the fall of 2017 under the moniker Shredders, the hype became much more apparent and visible, and after a few months of tedious studio labor, their debut album Dangerous Jumps has surfaced.

The opening track on Dangerous Jumps, 'Tuf Tiddy', does exactly what their name initially describes: shredding through bombastic production, with precise yet explosive wordplay. Nonethetheless, as the rhyme schemes are delivered at a nearly unbearable pace, and one-liners such as “Small world big city, tough titty,” see exciting first impressions quickly dissipate as the inauthenticity shows, and the whole idea of a Doomtree “reunion” seems queasy and weak. It should be said that the detail-oriented production impresses, but the washed-out aesthetic of these emcees, that never was all that charming to begin with, presents itself more blandly and troubling than ever before.

As Dangerous Jumps unfolds itself, the repetitive manner in which it flows is slightly obnoxious, albeit a little fun to listen to. But is that enough for these rap doomsayers to hold their composure through a full-length album? Are the negligible details on Dangerous Jumps any different than literally any Doomtree release? If so, what a sad world we live in; a world in which half-assed lyrical delivery becomes the norm, where solid production outshines numerous emcees throughout an entire album. The hip-hop world is a busy one, full of hyped up artists, some impressive, most of them forgettable, but it’s a world where any style of emcee has the potential of blowing up, or at least finding a nice, comfortable spot to steadily release music. Yet, with a world full of empty spaces and opportunity, why can’t Shredders find theirs?