Photo by Chrissy Piper

Aesop Rock: Zero Dark Thirty (via SoundCloud)

Between the release of Aesop Rock's last album, 2007's None Shall Pass, and his forthcoming Skelethon, due July 10 through Rhymesayers, his old label Def Jux went on hiatus. But the influence of that imprint's lyrically abstract and sonically confrontational hip-hop-- a sound Aesop helped pioneer-- has arguably never been more prevalent than right now. You can hear it in the work of Danny Brown, Das Racist, Mr. Muthafuckin' eXquire, Death Grips, not to mention Def Jux head El-P, who's prepping a new album himself.

Though it could make for good copy, Aesop doesn't really care to dwell on the difference between his new home at Rhymesayers and Def Jux, or whether there's any sort of competition going on between him and his former label mates, or how Harlem phenom A$AP Rocky's name sounds a lot like his own (we asked). And it makes sense that we communicated via email, since in the past five years, he's become, by his own admission, "a more and more isolated person in every facet of my life, perhaps to an unhealthy extent."

"While making this album, it felt like everything around me was dying: people, relationships, all plant life in my apartment."

Pitchfork: Five years is the longest time you've taken between LPs-- was there a conscious decision to take a break after None Shall Pass, or was the creation of Skelethon a particularly difficult process?

Aesop Rock: The time between solo albums can be attributed to many things. Musically, I was trying stuff I hadn't done before: [producing the Slug/Murs album] Felt 3, Hail Mary Mallon, Dirty Ghosts, [Kimya Dawson collaboration] the Uncluded, etc. During all of this I was writing and re-writing solo songs, just trying to figure out where to go.

[In] 2008, my best friend died, and that was the beginning of a ton of things going haywire in my personal life. It's been a long five years, to put it lightly. Maybe I was taking on other projects so I could somewhat avoid the spotlight while still being active. Originally, Skelethon was to be co-produced by myself and [longtime collaborator] Blockhead, but as more of the demos started taking shape, hurdles seemed to continue to present themselves (we're still besties). I think the NY-SF thing was more difficult this time around, the distance was making it hard to find any groove.

However, the realest answer I can give is that in the last five years I have slowly become a more and more isolated person in every facet of my life, perhaps to an unhealthy extent. I wouldn't want to work with me. I hit a point with the songs where it just wasn't going to be possible to complete them if I didn't challenge myself to produce the entire thing.

Pitchfork: Can we expect something fully conceptual like Labor Days and Bazooka Tooth, or does the new record follow along the lines of None Shall Pass in terms of diversifying things thematically and sonically?

AR: I don't see any of my records as any more or less conceptual than the others, and I don't really plan some overall idea in advance. The songs all get written under the umbrella of a certain time in your life, and it's natural to find themes that repeat within these periods. This time around, it felt like everything around me was dying: people, relationships, all plant life in my apartment, you name it-- it's dead.

That's where the Skelethon title came from, and imagery associated with shit dying is prevalent. That said, I don't think there are many "sad" songs. It's more just like "ahhh I'm exploding"-- I want it to sound urgent, because my personal experience is more about writing songs that just need to be out of my brain.

Pitchfork: This record's features-- Kimya Dawson, Hanni El Khatib-- are mostly outside the realm of hip-hop. Did you find yourself wanting to go more in a rock direction this time around?

A: I don't see it as that, really. I sample rock, funk, jazz, everything. Having some decent musicians around you only expands what you can do production-wise, but I make rap-- I can't really see myself doing much else.

Kimya sings on the song "Crows 1" because it just seemed to fit but, aside from that, there are no real featured vocal performances. Hanni, Rob Sonic, and Dirty Ghosts' Allyson Baker all do backup vocals in various places, but by in large the vocals are me rapping-- I just didn't feel like rapping with anybody else this time.

The music is where more of the collaboration occurred: Allyson played some fantastic guitar and bass lines. Hanni is a pal and I absolutely love the sound he and Nicky [Fleming] get-- he let me sample a couple of his songs, and also played some guitar. He also has a pretty clean kick-flip. And Grimace Federation out of Philly, who I have collaborated with before, did some instrumentation on the opening song, "Leisureforce".

Embedded content is unavailable.

Pitchfork: Judging from the single "Zero Dark Thirty", I get the sense you're trying to move away from the flow and vocal style of your early days...

A: At times, when I've browsed my older stuff, I've made mental notes like, "Eek, don't do that again." And that can shape parts of whatever's next. But I'd like to think any changes are just the result of me focusing the lens a bit over the years and figuring out how my voice works, hopefully improving my writing, etc. I have been inspired by countless artists over the years, but there's also times when you just gotta make your own inspiration. Ultimately, I really like to rap, and seeing what I can do to keep it fresh for myself has lent itself to tailoring over time.