Ian Bavitz's voice as Aesop Rock—a stentorian and articulate boom, lodged somewhere between that of a dictator and a father figure, a robot and a preacher—is itself an instrument of ceaseless enjoyment. It's the kind of thing that could infuse the pages of the phone book with intrigue or make a grocery list hit like voice-overs for NFL Films. But the collected lyrics of Aesop Rock's last decade of albums, from the fiery and demented Bazooka Tooth to this year's punch-drunk and punchy Skelethon, form a largely inscrutable career libretto. An experimental writer with the words and references of a voracious reader, Aesop Rock can turn tragedy into a Joyce-like triumph of language. And that he raps it all, well ... just listen. At a time when hip-hop's bleeding edges have found near-mainstream currency, Aesop Rock's mix of force and finesse—especially after a five-year hiatus of sorts—serves as a reminder that there's always another door to destroy. Rob Sonic and DJ Big Wiz join the show, with Dark Time Sunshine opening. —Grayson Currin