||AWOL One can’t figure himself out. Try as he might, LA’s favorite existential rapper can’t decide whether he’s "ugly" or "a sex symbol," whether he’s a "loser" or a "dope MC," descriptions he variously assigns to himself on this briefest of LPs. Over the course of its seven tracks, Propaganda finds the AWOLrus riding homie Fat Jack’s minimalist beats in search of an identity. On "The Eye in Team," Jack rolls out a militaristic drum loop while A-One croons mournfully about the game of death — a game no one wins. Abstract Rude drops in to lend a hand on "Head Like a Brick," big-upping SoCal’s Massmen clique over a sparse piano refrain and mad scratches from DJ Roach. On the battle tip, AWOL dons the gloves on "Downside Out," a hectic jam that feels out of place on this otherwise somber outing. Hide the razor blades, kids. AWOL’s got issues.