The Wisconsin-grown Milo has a mind seemingly incapable of stagnation, his raps wander (but not aimlessly) and are as likely to pull from his undergraduate seminar on Emmanuel Kant as they are Pokemon. But while his stream of conscious ramblings seem like the 90's generation's collective Rorschach associations, Milo is speaking most directly to that same demographic's alienated loner who feels wrongly defined by prescriptive generalities. Milo can relate, thus he raps “to kill the loneliness” of our confounding world.
The Hellfyre Club cohort more often comes across as a nimble-minded poet than prototypical rapper, but the platform serves his self-criticality with an almost laughable irony. In a genre of relentless self-aggrandizing Milo is one of very few to question if he or anything even matters, than boast of his significance. His affinity for the spacey, ethereal sounds of the Los Angeles beat scene coupled with all of his introspective and self-critical evaluations give his work a relatable cathartic edge that works to further his niche in rap. Become acquainted, because despite reluctance to admit it himself, Milo matters.
