Retrospective Review: Vaudeville Villain by Viktor Vaughn
The late MF DOOM returns with another alter-ego after King Geedorah.
MF DOOM put out Vaudeville Villain two decades back during his creative peak. This period began in the late 90s when he started producing albums consistently to entertain his followers. Taking inspiration from Kool Keith’s paradigm, DOOM began developing various pseudonyms and “personalities” to release music under, all of which came with unique stories and philosophies. Vaudeville Villain was distinct, setting itself apart from all his past and future work.
The unveiling of Vaudeville Villain came only a little more than three months post the launch of Take Me to Your Leader, an album he made under the pseudonym of King Geedorah. The earlier record emphasized DOOM’s talent in creating beats - he made it top to bottom but restricted his vocal involvement to only five tracks. On the flip side, in Vaudeville Villain, DOOM, or Viktor Vaughn, was unquestionably the main lyrical attraction, but he refrained from participating in the production.
For Vaudeville Villain, DOOM teamed up with Sound-Ink Records, a niche label mostly involved in electronic music during the early 2000s. His initial association with them began in 2001 when he contributed “Monday Night at Fluid” to the Colapsus compilation. This track highlighted DOOM’s poetic abilities (a line from DOOM and another from King Geedorah) and had a guest performance by longtime ally Kurious.
DOOM dons the garb of his alter ego, Viktor Vaughn. This alter ego borrows elements from Dr. Doom’s shortened pseudonym, Victor Von Doom. As a character, Viktor Vaughn is embodied as an audacious young rogue, weaving his path through a frosty, futuristic world armed with an air of defiance. Throughout this narration, DOOM and Viktor will be referred to interchangeably, albeit they are mere facets of a single entity.
As far as ingenuity, execution, and presentation of lyrics are concerned, Vaudeville Villain emerges as one of DOOM’s superior works. DOOM adopts an unrestricted, stream-of-consciousness narrative style for most of this album. His rhymes echo his other works, densely packed with allusions to cartoons and less-known New York-based television shows. He rarely employs the technique of hooks or limits his verses to conventional 16-bar fragments. Instead, he takes the road less traveled, preferring sprawling verses that roam almost the whole stretch of the song.
On Vaudeville Villain, he collaborates chiefly with the record label’s internal producers, including Heat Sensor, Max Bill, and King Honey. The evidence of electronic influences in the album’s production is conspicuous, as the tracks frequently cross-pollinate soul, jazz, or rock samples with the essence of 2003’s electronic music. One can also hear snatches of dialogue from retro Spider-Man cartoons, giving the album the genuine stamp of a DOOM production.
DOOM appears exceptionally at ease when operating with these relatively unfamiliar beat artisans. Though this trio didn’t undertake much work beyond their collaborations with Sound-Ink, they conjure a soundscape that is often bizarre and disorienting, replete with electronic hums, tweets, bells, and clatters. DOOM, undeterred, delves into the heart of the album, maneuvering deftly amidst varied tempos and soundscapes.
The opening title track of Vaudeville Villain provides a stage for DOOM to storm through, fueled by a rhythmically charged track characterized by electrifying guitar riffs, sharp string sections, and powerful vocals. He races through the composition like a daredevil galloping at high speed on the Van Wyck Expressway, expressing disdain for mediocre rappers, firing lines such as “Viktor, the director, flips scripts like Rob Reiner / Mediocre emcees might as well be polishing knobs / Those guys would probably tap dance for a dollar, or perform the old Huck-a-buck / To Vik, they’re not impressive, they’re just a horde of fools.”
Eccentric music never daunts DOOM; he navigates every soundscape with ease. “The Drop” propels with manic speed, decorated with the gurgles of a synthetic beat and imitative water drop sounds. On the contrary, “Raedawn” flows slowly, featuring a buzzing, humming keyboard and, while DOOM raps about his novel drink dedicated to Chong’s daughter, Rae Dawn. The drink, a potent mix of three shots of cognac followed by bong water, sounds less appealing than Brass Monkey.
Conversely, “Popsnot” gives the aura of a hallucination, brimming with keys that weave unpredictable melodic patterns and knocks of heavy drum beats. Amidst this, fragments of reversed vocals and portions of the baseline from Weather Report’s “Scarlet Woman” surface. Regarding the structure, this tune aligns more with a traditional song form on the album Vaudeville Villain, with DOOM delivering three distinct verses separated by EPMD’s sampled vocals from “For My People.”
After creating his prominent persona in Vaudeville Villain, the elusive character “Viktor Vaughn” would only reappear infrequently in DOOM’s expansive lyrical universe. A year after the debut, “Viktor” can be heard distinctly on the track “Fancy Clown,” intricately woven into the narrative of Madvillain’s critically acclaimed album, Madvillainy.
Less than a year later, Insomniac Records unveiled a successor project, a sequenced EP named Venomous Villain. Disappointingly, it came across more as a telephoned-in initiative to cash in on the previous success than an earnest attempt at artistic exploration. On the album, totaling 12 tracks languished a mere seven minutes of DOOM’s trademark verbose lyricism, shoehorned into beats crafted by Insomniac Records’ under-celebrated production crew.
Fast forward a decade, DOOM resurrected the Viktor Vaughn persona for a unique collaboration titled “Between Villains.” His intrinsic edgy style was complimented by Captain Murphy’s virtuosity (also known as Flying Lotus), Earl Sweatshirt, and Thundercat; the track formed an avant-garde symphony.
Regardless of the alias DOOM chose to embrace, he remained largely infallible throughout this era. The manifestation of Vaudeville Villain as one of three remarkable albums he unraveled in a year signified a creative zenith for him. Moreover, it spoke volumes about his extraordinary versatility that he could venture out from his customary brand of music and retain his excellence.
More often than not, musical artistry that dares to defy the odds isn’t usually reciprocated with critical polyphony and artistic fulfillment. Nevertheless, this daring experimentation made DOOM, despite his untimely demise, a monumental figure in music.