To the uninitiated, Madlib and Freddie Gibbs getting together to release Pinata via the former’s Madlib Invazion label might seem out of character for both of them. Every backpacker’s favorite DJ and an old-school gangsta getting together? But their fans know they have a couple of things in common, primarily an integrity of mission that’s unusual among the decade’s more prominent hip-hop artists. Secondly, they both make a habit of picking great dance partners. Madlib has made a career of providing the rock-solid foundation for a number of somewhat more well-known collaborators, and Gibbs is never afraid to try out new styles, stealing the show from artists as diverse as Young Jeezy, Statik Selektah, Danny Brown, and Flume.

Madlib’s work on this record is top-rate. The duo put almost four years of intermittent work in and it shows. It seems too easy to call it a classic, but I really don’t think there’s a weak moment. Madlib’s usual sense of humor is intact, matching Gibbs’ knack for puns and dirty jokes. And every track retains the organic, human touch that makes Madlib’s music unique. And like the best producers, he knows when to push and when to lay back and let Gibbs take over. Witness how he slows the tempo down in the middle of “Real” so Freddie can go double-time. Even their selection of guest spots—Raekwon, Ab-Soul, Earl Sweatshirt, and Scarface(!)—has been given exceptional scrutiny and extra emphasis; note how the beat subtlety gets harder when Danny Brown starts going off on “High.” These guys aren’t just happy be on the record, they’re placed with purpose.

Take “Shitsville” as another prime example. Madlib’s choice of samples is evocative, with a minor key progression and a simple, steady beat creating forward momentum but leaving plenty of space for Gibbs to lay down a fast, wordy flow. Then there’s the content. Each verse presents a new side of the narrator’s down-on-his-luck life of sin in angry, vengeful detail. Add to that a catchy chorus and a sharp refrain (“You motherfuckers just like me”) delivered with precision. At the end of the song, this line comes back in a new form, repeated with venom, turning into the kind of defiant invective you imagine fucking with in the car on your way to kick somebody’s ass. But this isn’t just loud, superficial posturing. Madlib’s beats set a dangerously high bar and his accomplice’s lyrics rise to the occasion. On every track, Freddie Gibbs shows you both the dirt in the cracks and the grit it takes to rise above it. For me, this is a match made in heaven, and at its best, it goes far beyond expectations.