After a few under-the-radar releases, Moor Mother broke out with this 2017 album, a punishing, steely-eyed exploration of pain so layered and multigenerational it transcends time itself. Samples of gospel singers, preachers, prisoners being interviewed about chain gang labor, residents of Chicago’s Cabrini-Green housing project talking about gun violence, and more all blend with Moor Mother’s unmerciful judgments, delivered in verses of blunt poetry that nonetheless contain a dark, grim humor (“Nois Bois” is a perfect parody of the noise-rap duo Death Grips). The music is lo-fi and harsh, industrial noise deploying electronic buzzes and clouds of static layered over deliberately crude and pounding beats and swathed in reverb and echo and miles-deep sub-bass. Not fun in the sense of escapism, but thrilling like a really good horror movie.