Black Milk the producer embraces a warm, vinyl-crackle sound that implies misalignment and chaos but locks in like Voltron when the chorus hits. As it turns out, these are perfect tracks for Black Milk the MC, a head whose elastic flows are more casually sparring (“My shit is Martin Luther/Your shit is Martin Lawrence”) than straight street reportage. But while the Detroit-based impresario has shared or produced beats for a veritable who’s who of underground and mid-field spitters, from Danny Brown to Slum Village to Slaughterhouse, the world at large seems indifferent to his well-honed charms. Their loss.
Wed., Feb. 29, 9 p.m., 2012