Brian Ennals and Tariq “Infinity Knives” Ravelomanana refuse to pull punches.

The Baltimore-based duo’s latest project, “A City Drowned in God’s Black Tears,” is bombastic, hilarious and depressing. It deftly swerves between the abrasive and the melancholic. You’d be hard-pressed to find another album like it.

Throughout the record, Ennals slings acerbic insults at titans of politics and pop culture. His lyrical victims include Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu; U.S. presidents Donald Trump, Joe Biden and Barack Obama; the late Los Angeles Laker Kobe Bryant; and actress Gal Gadot.

Meanwhile, Ravelomanana weaves a sonic tapestry from disparate soundscapes, pulling together indie folk, doom metal, cumbia and more.

The album, released last month, has been garnering online acclaim from the likes of music critic Anthony Fantano. We sat down with Ennals and Ravelomanana to discuss their project, its reception and what’s next.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity — although fair warning: We did allow some f-bombs to fly.

Q. How would you describe this album?

Ravelomanana: Polarizing. Sad.

Ennals: Yeah, either sad or angry.

How did the idea for this project come to be?

R: We didn’t want to make a political album. Initially, we wanted to make a hopeful album.

E: Yeah, that was the plan. But the times force your hand. If it’s not a hopeful time, then it would be disingenuous. And for whatever flaws we have as artists or as human beings, that’s one thing we’re not: disingenuous.

R: Initially, before the genocide in Gaza, I had conceptualized this album to evoke cities like Baltimore and Detroit — you know, cities that were affected by white flight and redlining. Cities that used to be powerhouses and then they just kind of crumbled.

But then the genocide in Gaza happened, and I started hyper-focusing on that. I would cry myself to sleep at night. That really shifted the sound of the album.

I grew up Muslim in Madagascar, which is one of the poorest countries in the world, so I know the feeling of the gaze of the West on, you know, brown and Black kids. They kind of expect them to die, but there’s no justification for the deaths of children.

How has Baltimore influenced your creative process?

E: Well, I’m from Severn, so Baltimore used to be the big city down the street ... we’d go to the city to see a show, party, whatever the case may be, so the city was a big influence to me. And my child’s mother moved here in 2018, so the city became a part of me.

R: I’ve been living here since 2005, but I was never really part of a scene or clique or anything like that. I just kind of do my own thing here.

The lyrics are very blunt and direct. Can you talk about your headspace during the writing process?

E: I made a concentrated effort to rap differently than I had on previous projects. I listened to a lot of Tupac, and was just like, “What’s the most direct way to say some shit?” As opposed to being super-clever or use double entendres, whatever the case may be.

I think people need to hear some ... some blunt shit. I didn’t want to be ironic or winky, you know what I mean? I just wanted to be raw with it.

What are you most proud of with this project?

E: Finishing it. And that we sparked some conversations, at least, whether it be on Reddit or message boards or whatever. And the fact that the people who like it really seem to love it.

We’re curmudgeons, but we really do appreciate everybody listening. It’s a good feeling. It makes it worth it.

Did you ever second-guess if some of the lyrics should actually be included on the album?

R: Yeah. I remember there’s this line on there, man, and he said it as I hit record and I was like, “What the fuck?”

Do you remember which line?

E: It’s the Kobe Bryant line. [“Kobe Bryant was a rapist and he paid for that.”]

R: And you were wasted.

E: I was like, man, I ain’t lying, though.

What did you think of Anthony Fantano’s review?

E: That was dope. I’m older, so I didn’t even know who Fantano was until a year ago, but as we started making the album, he [Ravelomanana] was like, “Yo, we get the Fantano review, you’ll see we’re gonna get this boost. And we need that.”

R: And it happened.

E: It literally happened. It tripled our monthly listeners in four or five days.

Who are your biggest musical inspirations right now?

R: Tropical Fuck Storm. We’re opening for them at the Metro Gallery. They’re from Australia and I’m a fan of their old band, too, called The Drones. They would talk about really esoteric and weird parts of Australian history, like from when it was a penal colony up until today. They’d combine this weird apocalyptic, esoteric stuff, like Nazis and shit, and combine it with funky grooves. I love that stuff.

E: I think both of us agree that our North Stars for hip-hop are Outkast and Tupac. The other day, I was bumping Mary J. Blige, because it’s springtime, you know?

Ravelomanana, you previously said you wanted to score films. Any projects like that on the horizon?

R: Unfortunately, I feel like filmmakers are pretty closed off and they just want to work with their friends.

E: It’s a hard club to get into.

R: I don’t want to sound bitter, but I hope one day, it could happen. It was a Black woman who saw that potential in me, to make soundtracks instead of just beats, you know? One day, I’d like to.

And to be quite honest, as much as I love rap music, I don’t think I have the bravado for it. I’m a little too sensitive. Because rap is an innately competitive genre.

E: I’m the opposite of him in that way. The more I do it, I can’t fucking wait for people to start coming at me.

Is there that competitiveness in the Baltimore scene?

E: No. Absolutely not.

R: That’s gone, baby.

But ... we’re not even in the same lane as other people here. We don’t have the same audiences. What we’re doing is weird as fuck. And they’re rapping about making money ... more typical rap stuff. And there’s no problem with that.

You have some lyrics about selling out tours and still being broke. Can you talk about that?

E: We’re literally about to do it again. Europe has showed us a lot of love since our first project. Our booking agent was based in the U.K., the label we work with is based there. The crowd’s actually more receptive over there, but the cost of travel — for example, we’re about to do a show in Malta, and the flight has absorbed all the fees. We might make a few hundred dollars off of selling merch, but —

R: You could make a few hundred dollars working an Amazon overnight shift.

Do you have any live shows in Baltimore coming up?

E: Yeah — we have a benefit concert June 12 at Ottobar. I think we might be at the Baltimore Beat anniversary show in July, and then Sept. 24 at the Metro Gallery.

Do you have any message for the people of Baltimore?

R: Community is what we need. Despite our demeanors being sort of outrageous, I think we just need a whole lot of kindness right now.