I suspect this review will be full of misinterpretations, but trying to figure out what members of Oakland's Anticon Collective are rambling about is part of the fun. On one hand, it's refreshing to hear these eccentrics dressed like their tyke selves in the early 80s throw together hip-hop and folkie-pop like found-art objects strewn in dumpsters and attics. It was quite a sight watching an Anticon showcase at San Francisco's Amoeba Music back in 2001, where the "indie kids" in patch 'n' retro badge-clad hoodies bobbed their heads in the front, while many b-boys stood in the back with crossed arms or passed through the record bins as if listening to a PA'd CD. Audience polarization can be a sign of artistic strength, but what happens when an artist's idiosyncrasies and self-indulgences are accepted as qualities of predictable freaks? What more could be expected of him or her?