The late Daniel Dumile was intimately familiar with reinvention and rebirth—concepts he explored through his alter ego, MF DOOM. The story goes like this: Dumile got his start as the bespectacled Zev Love X, a member of the boyish early-1990s Long Island rap trio KMD (Kausin’ Much Damage). But Dumile’s bandmate and brother, Subroc, died in 1993, and KMD was eventually dropped by its label—prompting Dumile to disappear from view altogether. When he returned in 1999, he had a new name—MF DOOM—and a remarkable debut album: Operation: Doomsday. Released right around the time the underground indie hip-hop scene was booming, Operation: Doomsday is high art done on a low budget. DOOM cuts together samples from a variety of sources—from a vintage Fantastic Four cartoon to the influential 1980s hip-hop movie Wild Style—and uses them to craft a fictitious backstory of triumph over adversity. It’s all part of his raw musical recipe, one that finds DOOM lifting drums from old-school hip-hop cuts, and pop melodies from the likes of The Beatles and Atlantic Starr. Lyrically, Operation: Doomsday is full of clever rhyme schemes and drunken wit, all of it sprinkled with gems of wisdom (example: “Only in America could you find a way to earn a healthy buck/And still keep your attitude on self-destruct”). At one point, he even rhymes from the perspective of a microphone (“The Mic”). Tempering braggadocio and street tales with geeky humor, Operation: Doomsday is a concept album about one man’s resurrection via art.

By the time Daniel Dumile dropped this, his second proper MF DOOM album, he was already an underground legend. Part of that was his surreal origin story—after tragedy derailed his ’90s rap career, Dumile returned metal-masked and seeking revenge against the industry that wronged him. But most of his rep came from raw talent: a tumble of clever rhyme schemes and punchlines set to a loping score of rough-cut jazz loops and vintage film snippets. While his cachet would carry DOOM into collabs with members of Radiohead, Wu-Tang, and even Aqua Teen Hunger Force, MM...Food finds him in the early days of his crossover appeal, totally ignoring his own hype. While many concept albums lean toward the esoteric or idea-stuffed, this one is built on an almost tauntingly basic conceit: Throw DOOM a topic (food) and watch the wordplay go. On opener “Beef Rapp,” he delves into the mortal dangers of, well, rap beef: “I suggest you change your diet/It can lead to high blood pressure if you fry it.” And “Hoe Cakes” toys with another hip-hop trope—dastardly deeds done after dark. But lest you think the culinary connections are all easily parsed, try “Potholderz” on for size: DOOM finds at least four meanings for these kitchen aids, casting them in one instance as tools that help him cook up and cannibalize lesser MCs. Metal Fingers flexes his producer skills, too, packing the album’s midsection with jaunty sound collages that use Fat Albert and Frank Zappa samples to extend the edible metaphor. But nothing beats hearing DOOM croon his best/worst Cole Porter impression over a Madlib track, then binge-rap a two-minute verse inspired by beer. MM...Food captures Dumile at his most unburdened, making these songs as nourishing as they are fun.

By the time Daniel Dumile dropped this, his second proper MF DOOM album, he was already an underground legend. Part of that was his surreal origin story—after tragedy derailed his ’90s rap career, Dumile returned metal-masked and seeking revenge against the industry that wronged him. But most of his rep came from raw talent: a tumble of clever rhyme schemes and punchlines set to a loping score of rough-cut jazz loops and vintage film snippets. While his cachet would carry DOOM into collabs with members of Radiohead, Wu-Tang, and even Aqua Teen Hunger Force, MM...Food finds him in the early days of his crossover appeal, totally ignoring his own hype. While many concept albums lean toward the esoteric or idea-stuffed, this one is built on an almost tauntingly basic conceit: Throw DOOM a topic (food) and watch the wordplay go. On opener “Beef Rapp,” he delves into the mortal dangers of, well, rap beef: “I suggest you change your diet/It can lead to high blood pressure if you fry it.” And “Hoe Cakes” toys with another hip-hop trope—dastardly deeds done after dark. But lest you think the culinary connections are all easily parsed, try “Potholderz” on for size: DOOM finds at least four meanings for these kitchen aids, casting them in one instance as tools that help him cook up and cannibalize lesser MCs. Metal Fingers flexes his producer skills, too, packing the album’s midsection with jaunty sound collages that use Fat Albert and Frank Zappa samples to extend the edible metaphor. But nothing beats hearing DOOM croon his best/worst Cole Porter impression over a Madlib track, then binge-rap a two-minute verse inspired by beer. MM...Food captures Dumile at his most unburdened, making these songs as nourishing as they are fun.

Not to be confused with Doom's similarly titled instrumental collections, this is a completely different project, with the super villain's charismatic compositions backing up rugged rhymes from MF Grimm (a.k.a. Superstar Jet Jaguar a.k.a. GM Grimm). The two had teamed up before on various endeavors, and their distinct styles mesh here perfectly. An immensely skilled rapper with a lengthy pedigree, Grimm is not afraid to get autobiographical, touching on his storied history that includes drug sales, incarceration, and a near-death shooting. Despite his felonious past, he doesn't dwell on it, and instead focuses on the current task of staying positive and building up his Day By Day Entertainment empire, interspersed with the type of unrestrained bravado that comes from a foundation of intense battling, both on the microphone and in the streets of NYC. Most of the tracks here are rock solid, but a few are really stellar; check out "Shifting Lanes" featuring Kurious, the K.M.D.-channeling "War Paint," and "Superhero." Followers of chant-along dance routines and 'ringtone rap' will be completely bewildered by both the rhymes and beats on display here, but those looking for something raw and uncut are in for a treat.

By the time Daniel Dumile dropped this, his second proper MF DOOM album, he was already an underground legend. Part of that was his surreal origin story—after tragedy derailed his ’90s rap career, Dumile returned metal-masked and seeking revenge against the industry that wronged him. But most of his rep came from raw talent: a tumble of clever rhyme schemes and punchlines set to a loping score of rough-cut jazz loops and vintage film snippets. While his cachet would carry DOOM into collabs with members of Radiohead, Wu-Tang, and even Aqua Teen Hunger Force, MM...Food finds him in the early days of his crossover appeal, totally ignoring his own hype. While many concept albums lean toward the esoteric or idea-stuffed, this one is built on an almost tauntingly basic conceit: Throw DOOM a topic (food) and watch the wordplay go. On opener “Beef Rapp,” he delves into the mortal dangers of, well, rap beef: “I suggest you change your diet/It can lead to high blood pressure if you fry it.” And “Hoe Cakes” toys with another hip-hop trope—dastardly deeds done after dark. But lest you think the culinary connections are all easily parsed, try “Potholderz” on for size: DOOM finds at least four meanings for these kitchen aids, casting them in one instance as tools that help him cook up and cannibalize lesser MCs. Metal Fingers flexes his producer skills, too, packing the album’s midsection with jaunty sound collages that use Fat Albert and Frank Zappa samples to extend the edible metaphor. But nothing beats hearing DOOM croon his best/worst Cole Porter impression over a Madlib track, then binge-rap a two-minute verse inspired by beer. MM...Food captures Dumile at his most unburdened, making these songs as nourishing as they are fun.