Kool Keith is not an artist who thrives on convention. As one of Hip Hop’s most eccentric and shape-shifting figures, he’s spent decades dodging mainstream recognition while cultivating a dedicated underground following. Born Keith Thornton in the Bronx, he first gained prominence with Ultramagnetic MCs, whose 1988 debut Critical Beatdown left a lasting mark on Hip Hop’s early experimental phase. Even then, Keith’s off-kilter flow and esoteric rhymes set him apart. But it was his 1996 release Dr. Octagonecologyst, under the bizarre alien gynecologist persona Dr. Octagon, that catapulted him into cult stardom. The album’s mix of surrealism and cutting-edge production, courtesy of Dan the Automator, resonated deeply with audiences who weren’t expecting their rap spliced with science fiction and medical horror.
But Keith doesn’t bask in success. He annihilates it. Cue First Come, First Served, a project that opens with the cold-blooded execution of Dr. Octagon in the album’s first moments. With this, Keith banishes his sci-fi alter ego and trades otherworldly surrealism for the grittier, deranged menace of Dr. Dooom—a cannibalistic landlord with a sharp tongue and a roach-infested apartment in the projects. It’s a brutal rebuke of the fame that Dr. Octagonecologyst brought him. While his Octagon work invited alternative audiences into his orbit, Dr. Dooom spits in their faces and turns the lights out.
The album is produced by KutMasta Kurt, a longtime collaborator who understands Keith’s unhinged creativity better than most. Kurt’s beats on First Come, First Served are grimy, skeletal, and claustrophobic, perfectly complementing the chaotic narratives Keith weaves. From the eerie keys and pounding drum loops of “Apartment 223” to the funky paranoia of “You Live at Home with Your Mom,” Kurt’s production sets the stage for a journey into Keith’s twisted imagination. The sound is deliberately raw—grimy loops, sharp snares, and stripped-down funk laced with an unsettling edge. It’s music for dark alleys and broken elevators, the soundtrack to a mind unraveling.
Keith’s Dr. Dooom persona is merciless. On “No Chorus,” he aims at nameless rappers, snarling about their lack of originality and authenticity. “I’m about to boo you, let it be fair; when you come off-stage / Ninety percent of the people that came on your guest list ain’t gon’ be there,” he barks, his words slashing like broken glass. The track lives up to its title: it’s a relentless barrage of rhymes with no hooks to break the tension. Keith’s delivery—part rant, part sermon—is chaotic yet hypnotic, veering between tightly controlled and completely unhinged.
“Apartment 223” is one of the album’s standout moments, diving headfirst into horrorcore without feeling like a gimmick. Over a sparse, sinister beat, Keith narrates the macabre daily life of his deranged character, describing body bags in the hallway and bloody refrigerators like they’re just another Tuesday. It’s grotesque, but it’s also darkly funny, balancing horror with Keith’s trademark absurdity.
Humor, in fact, is one of First Come, First Served’s strongest tools. Tracks like “You Live at Home with Your Mom” aim at lazy rappers, mocking them with cutting, cartoonish insults. The hook is hilariously cruel, delivered in a distorted, mocking tone that makes the track as ridiculous as it is catchy. And then there’s “B**** Gets No Love,” where Keith unleashes a masterpiece of venom aimed at a woman who’s clearly overstayed her welcome. The song’s over-the-top misogyny is so exaggerated that it borders on satire, but Keith plays it straight, letting the listener decide whether to laugh or recoil.
One of the album’s most compelling moments comes with “Leave Me Alone,” where Keith peels back the Dr. Dooom mask—just slightly—to vent his frustrations with the music industry. “I got 40 grand for three minutes to write a song for Prodigy,” he declares, recounting his experiences with bitter detachment. The track’s bleak honesty and raw bitterness provide a rare moment of introspection on an album that’s otherwise a chaotic rampage. Even here, though, Keith keeps one foot firmly planted in his surreal world, referencing his monstrous persona while painting himself as both victim and villain.
The guest appearances on First Come, First Served are few but memorable. Motion Man shines on “Housing Authority,” his sharp verses meshing perfectly with Keith’s bizarre imagery. Jacky Jasper, meanwhile, pops up on tracks like “Neighbors Next Door” and “Call the Cops,” though his contributions often feel overshadowed by Keith’s larger-than-life presence.
If Dr. Octagonecologyst was cinematic in its polish and scope, First Come, First Served is its grimy cousin, all flickering fluorescent lights and sticky floors. Keith deliberately avoids the lush, otherworldly soundscapes of his Octagon work, opting instead for something more grounded, though no less bizarre. The album is steeped in horror-movie aesthetics, from the serial killer antics of Dr. Dooom to the grotesque skits that punctuate the album. Even the cover art—a garish parody of No Limit’s infamous Pen & Pixel style—adds to the unsettling vibe.
Keith’s rhymes throughout are as vivid and unpredictable as ever, blending grotesque imagery, absurd humor, and biting social commentary. He’s a master of turning the mundane into the grotesque, whether he’s describing roaches in his cereal or fantasizing about smuggling body parts in shopping carts. His flow, too, is a marvel—chaotic yet precise, always teetering on the edge of losing the beat but somehow landing perfectly. On tracks like “Mental Case,” he veers between manic rants and intricate wordplay, his delivery as unpredictable as his lyrics.
At its core, First Come, First Served is an album about rejection. Keith rejects mainstream success, rejects expectations, and rejects the idea of following up Dr. Octagonecologyst with something similarly polished. He rejects the glossy, industry-approved aesthetics that Dr. Octagon’s success flirted with, opting instead for rawness and discomfort. Dr. Dooom is not a hero, nor is he an anti-hero—he’s a villain, through and through, and Keith revels in his character’s malevolence.
For those willing to dive into its murky depths, First Come, First Served offers a fascinating glimpse into Kool Keith’s psyche. It’s abrasive, unsettling, and frequently hilarious, a twisted carnival ride that refuses to let you off. While it may lack the accessibility of Dr. Octagonecologyst, it more than compensates with its raw energy and unfiltered creativity. Keith is at his most unhinged here, and whether he’s ranting about housing authorities, mocking his neighbors, or dragging bodies through hallways, he’s impossible to ignore.
In the grand scheme of Kool Keith’s sprawling discography, First Come, First Served is a grimy, chaotic high point—a dark, funny, and utterly unique album that could only come from the mind of Keith Thornton. Dr. Dooom may not have the legacy of Dr. Octagon, but for those who venture into his world, he’s unforgettable.
