Album Review: We Buy Diabetic Test Strips by Armand Hammer
billy woods and ELUCID delivered with another exceptional piece of art.
To uncover a harsh reality about the United States, take notice of the advertisements for buying diabetic test strips. They pepper telephone poles and nestle in medians, placed by individuals who acquire them from insured persons with a surplus. A burgeoning gray market for these strips exists, nurturing profitable micro-enterprises across the cities.
The situation is as dire as it appears: Test strips may carry a price tag of over $100 per box in pharmacies, a cost prohibitive for some. Meanwhile, local or digital vendors offer these strips at a fraction of the price—a boon for the uninsured, a profit for the discerning. There’s a disdainful observation to be made about the so-called Can-Do American Entrepreneurial Spirit; it serves as a legal route to financial betterment, circumventing the frustrations of job hunting. Realists will recognize this scenario as a mirror to our merciless era, where medical provisions are commoditized, and the discomfort of many fattens the wallets of a few.
The musical domain Armand Hammer has sculpted over the last decade is expansive, a self-crafted complex stage. The hip-hop pair has embraced a diverse roster of talents to help mold their sound, whether it’s a guest lyricist on a single tune or a maestro orchestrating a full album, akin to The Alchemist crafting a sonorous and eerie realm on 2021’s Haram.
Despite naming their album We Buy Diabetic Test Strips, accusing Armand Hammer—the New York rap consortium of billy woods and ELUCID—of glorifying the system seems far-fetched. Their preceding record, Haram, was a beautiful, trance-inducing scrutiny of the principles guiding our lives.
The fresh record is harsher, seen as a spiritual successor to 2020’s Shrines. That album unmasked the terrors of late capitalism, tracking its outreach into systemic racism, militarized law enforcement, and the ongoing choice of impoverishment. Test Strips explores how individuals navigate this faltering system: they flourish, they struggle, they hustle, they perish, and they survive.
This domain is uniquely theirs—a darkly detailed take on hip-hop that carries a peculiarly maze-like aesthetic, winding through personal narratives, global politics, and mesmerizing, offbeat production techniques. Few rappers share a similar outlook as ELUCID and billy woods, and even fewer bear resemblance in sound.
After a decade of joint ventures, plus individual releases over another decade, expecting mainstream tunes from Armand Hammer is a stretch. Their latest, We Buy Diabetic Test Strips, could be seen as their initial venture into such territory, albeit not in the conventional sense; playing the DJ Haram-produced “Trauma Mic” on your sound system could be a risky choice.
Contrarily, this iteration of Armand Hammer accentuates community, its extended length accommodating a broad spectrum of collaborators, including Pink Siifu, Curly Castro, Junglepussy, and Pierce Jordan of the hardcore ensemble Soul Glo, under his Moneynicca moniker.
Enhancing the collaborative spirit is Test Strips’ distinction as the first album in their repertoire to feature live musicians—like Max Heath of Child Actor, bassist Adi Meyerson, former Black Dice/Lightning Bolt contributor Hisham Bharoocha, and Shabaka Hutchings from Sons of Kemet/The Comet Is Coming. (Marimba/vibraphonist Jane Boxall and guitarist Abdul Hakim Bilal were recorded separately.)
Above any other Armand Hammer album, a boundless eclecticism feels uniquely majestic and broad, emanating from the diverse aesthetics and viewpoints in play. Some of this could be ascribed to the album’s duration, just shy of an hour. Yet beyond that, ELUCID and woods seem to brew a vibrant alliance that propels them into wildly varied musical territories with each track, showcasing their skills as artists and cultural connoisseurs.
JPEGMAFIA kickstarts the album with his backward loops on “Landlines,” plunging the listener into a surrealistic domain that transitions into his ethereal beeps and breaks on “Woke Up and Asked Siri How I’m Gonna Die.” With the former, The first verse by ELUCID is a nostalgic trip down memory lane, touching on childhood experiences and the passage of time. Lines like “Sipping mead on a blue note” and “Fifth grade in my dad jeans” evoke a sense of nostalgia while also hinting at the complexities of growing up.
billy woods takes a more pragmatic approach in his verse, discussing the harsh realities of life. He talks about the difficulties of relationships, the legal system, and the struggle to find a place to call home. One line that stands out is, “Lawyers split they cases, but ni**as still got the same sentences,” highlighting the systemic issues that plague society. ELUCID returns for another verse by focusing on life’s emotional and psychological aspects.
Exotic marimba notes blend into pulsing synth-jazz on Preservation’s “I Keep a Mirror In My Pocket,” disembodied voices resonate against a frenzied beat on El-P’s dizzying “The Gods Must Be Crazy,” and raspy wah-wah alongside cascading piano caper over the brink of each beat on Steel Tipped Dove and Messiah Musik’s “Y’all Can’t Stand Right Here.” If there’s a common aesthetic thread, it’s a whimsical disorientation—no path ever feels too secure or overly trodden.
“I Keep a Mirror In My Pocket” is a complex and layered track that delves into themes of identity and self-awareness. Cavalier opens the song with a verse that touches on identity and societal expectations. He mentions “Thebes librarian, features Ramsian,” invoking ancient Egyptian imagery to discuss human history and identity complexities. The line “How can that be when there’s lamb’s blood on the door of my firstborn” references the biblical Passover, suggesting a sense of divine protection or chosenness.
ELUCID’s verse is a critique of hypocrisy and conventions. The opening lines, “Don’t invite me to your house, ask me to remove my shoes and your floors ain’t clean,” symbolize societal expectations that are not met with equal respect or dignity. He also touches on themes of economic disparity with the line, “Ni**as ate all the greens on New Year’s and was still broke,” highlighting the futility of traditional practices in the face of systemic issues.
billy woods’ verse focuses on personal relationships and communal expectations. The line “You don’t gotta love me, just pay me dat” indicates the commodification of relationships and identity. He also delves into love and economic disparity themes with lines like “We never talk about money (never)/We never had nothing/I love her ‘cause she funny.”
With the El-P-produced “The Gods Must Be Crazy,” the song’s title is a nod to the 1980 comedy film of the same name, which explored the clash of modern civilization with indigenous cultures. Similarly, Armand Hammer’s track scrutinizes the dissonance between political, social, or metaphysical worlds.
The lyrics are replete with references that require a keen understanding of history, politics, and culture to grasp fully. For instance, billy woods opens with “Zimbabwe, Rhodesia,” immediately setting the stage for a discussion that involves colonial history and its modern-day ramifications. He later mentions “CIA scams, revolutionary plans,” hinting at covert operations and their impact on global politics.
ELUCID’s verses are equally compelling, touching on themes of identity and existentialism. Lines like “I be everywhere/What blessings is/What curses come” evoke a sense of omnipresence and the duality of life’s experiences. He also delves into surveillance and thought policing with lines like “Why I still gotta dress for a thought crime?”
With social commentary, personal introspection, and cultural critique wrapped in intricate lyricism, “Y’all Can’t Stand Right Here” opens with a sample from MF DOOM, setting the tone for what will come. billy woods starts the song with a verse touching the criminal justice system. He talks about the irony of passing his crime bill, highlighting the flaws and contradictions within the system. He criticizes the legal system, mentioning how junior traders flip and CFOs plead out and the inherent corruption. The verse also delves into the dehumanizing aspects of the carceral system, suggesting that it “eats its own.”
Junglepussy takes the mic next, focusing on self-empowerment and the complexities of relationships. She discusses building her strength (“Buildin’ my iron”) and criticizes materialistic obsessions. Her verse is a call to authenticity and a critique of superficiality. ELUCID’s verse is more abstract, questioning the kind of world we live in. He touches on various aspects of life, from the freedom of mangoes to the complexities of drugs. His verse serves as a contemplation of the world’s contradictions.
Money Nicca’s verse is brief but impactful, focusing on life’s struggles and harsh realities . The verse is filled with metaphors and symbolism, adding another layer to the song’s complexity, while woods returns for the final verse, touching on various themes from the personal to the political. He references Winnie Mandela and delves into the complexities of living in a flawed system. His verse culminates the song’s themes, tying everything together.
This album presents a multilayered investigation. Veiled in cryptic symbolism and hyper-specific, real-time reflections, the LP discusses age, gentrification (“Empire BLVD”) , and the chilling cruelty of capitalism (“Don’t Lose Your Job”) in a changing world. The album’s title alludes to uninsured diabetes patients forced to purchase unused test strips due to unaffordable retail prices. In New York, uninsured patients distribute flyers featuring their contact details to connect with insured sellers to acquire the strips. Thankfully, this process is entirely lawful. Less thankfully, it’s a glaring indicator of wealth disparities that cannot be rectified with a mere phone call.
While both embody a frenetic, spontaneous, and thoughtful demeanor, billy and ELUCID adopt divergent styles in verse crafting for the album. ELUCID tends to veer towards the obscure, transforming incomplete memories into hieroglyphics with implicit meanings, leaving gaps for the listener to fill. Conversely, billy offers a more tangible embodiment of the essence of ELUCID channels through his abstract lyrical flair. Together, they add depth to their songs, enabling ideas to be explored on both episodic and grand scales with subtlety and symbolic rhythm. It’s a chemistry they’ve honed over time; their inaugural project as a duo dropped a decade ago.
From their initial collaboration, both have harbored a seasoned perspective that infuses their lyrics with skepticism and sensitivity; packed boxes become unearthed artifacts—indications of a bygone era—rather than mere items stowed away. “The Key Is Under the Mat” resonates as a fusion of a ticking clock and a funeral, and billy’s opening lines epitomize fatalism: “Everything that matters is finite.” Yet, amidst his later burst of surreal imagery, there’s a glimmer of optimism.
We Buy Diabetic Test Strips doesn’t offer a cheerful resolution, but amidst unrestrained experimentation and emotional outpourings, there’s a weary quest for one. As the years have rolled by and billy and ELUCID’s experiences have broadened, their pursuit has become more vivid—and layered—with each release. You toil for your earnings only to labor harder to retain them, and even if you succeed, you can’t preserve your neighborhood. Loved ones will depart, and so will you; in a mutable universe, all you genuinely possess are your intentions, and even those are fleeting. With adventurous lyricism and dynamic soundscapes, Armand Hammer’s latest is a grim yet colorful contemplation on the engines of change—and the unchanging.
Standout (★★★★½)
Favorite Track(s): “Landlines” / “The Gods Must Be Crazy” / “Don’t Lose Your Job” / “The Key Is Under the Mat”