L.A.'s Daedelus is something of a producer's producer: It's easy to forget his rappers are even there, once you get lost in his strange, spongy beats. And "lost" is the operative term. Folding in elements from the Beach Boys to Bowie, from Elephant 6 to acid house, his world is deliriously schizophonic. It's also remarkably coherent. For all the odd angles and left turns, this album never feels cluttered; everything works according to its own logic. Parts, meet sum: a Terry Gilliam-like attempt to rescue hip-hop's present by marshalling the forces of the past and the future.