In what is best described as positive post-skate punk meets psychoanalysis, Jacob Didas is anything but a boring case study. Aligning with the quasi-manic genre-spanning music that so often stems from the vein of outsider hip-hop/electronica, Didas presents Lucid, a release that undeniably lives up to its name. Lucid may very well be the textbook definition of a “woke” collection of music, a bare-bones guide of sorts to self-guidance and interpretation of recollection.
Didas, a student of mental himself, undoubtedly uses Lucid as a sounding board for trekking through his own reveries as well as through those he’s worked with. It’s difficult to say whether or not Didas is addressing his own life on a track such as “Wagwan,” or whether he is melding together a battery of PTSD-tinged experiences allocated from those he’s worked with.
One wonders what form Lucid might have taken if crafted through the lens of Gil Scott-Heron. “Octane” is a compelling enough narrative that could have been translated into a spoken a spoken word demonstration. Clearly, Didas’ influences and background lies in an eclectic environment of hip-hop fusion. Still, Didas’ noble intents reign supreme. Lucid has zero pretenses of an entitled release, rather, it is a severely passionate release.
Didas is far from the only artist to find escape through music. Perhaps outside of eggheads like Eno and Fripp nearly everyone who has committed to record is founded on the same impetus. Didas, however, is among the few who has used a career in examining the mind as basis for a casual foray into a favorite genre. A worthwhile listen for those psychology fans out there and anyone who may remember the Flobots.