If you came of age in the 90’s golden era, you know that Onyx’s introductory album Bacdafucup was a hip-hop staple. Sticky Fingaz, Fredro Starr, Sonny Seeza and Big DS (R.I.P) were angry, spastic and totally captivating on the mic. Subsequent albums became soundtracks for New York City ruffnecks and ruffneck sympathizers across the world. It’s been two years since their last release; Cold Case Files Vol. 2, a follow up to the first compilation of previous hits and lost tracks. But is their new material enough to hold today’s listening audience?

The 14-track album titled Wakedafucup; produced entirely by the Snowgoons, dropped quietly on March 18th and stayed true to Onyx’s history of making music for the streets. In a time where most albums are made for the clubs, a handful of tracks hit just the spot to offer refreshment. For one, “We Don’t Fucking Care” featuring A$AP Ferg adding some new school flavor and Sean Price doing what he does best. Haunting keys, brooding bass and crisp drums make this one a standout.

“Buc Bac” feels dated due to the group’s signature call and response, gun loving chants. Meanwhile, they show up with the same gritty voices and topics from over two decades ago. Take “Hustlin Hours” featuring MakemPay – albeit laced with sharp cuts and classic boom bap, one wonders if an ode to hustling is necessary in 2014.

A tribute to famed New York City nightclub the Tunnel, featuring Cormega and Papoose, proves touching with a reference to the late great Baby Chris; “Chris Lighty ran the Tunnel, he was the man.” Vivid descriptions of the club that had a culture of its own are great for reminiscing if you were of age during that time.

“Wakedafucup” reprises the album intro as a call to the rappers of today to loosen up their clothes and stop dancing. It may be a valid argument that “Hip Hop needs a facelift,” but Onyx does not convince us they are the surgeons for the job. What’s more, the “hip hop needs to be saved” concept is overdone and inoperative. These outdated sentiments ignore and alienate current talents who manage to incorporate the substance past generations are used to, yet still innovate fresh.

The next series of songs taper off in energy; “Dirty Cops” ft Snak the Ripper, “Boom” with more precise scratching and “Trust No Bitch,” where Sticky enacts Common’s “I Used to Love Her” method, equating the bitch in question to hip-hop. That is, until “One for the Team” where Reks in the assist spits what might be the best verse on the entire album. But what also stands out is Sticky’s confession that hip-hop keeps calling him. Out of the other group members, he’s the one to believe. “Turndafucup” picks up the pace as the final track, with everyone in pocket sounding like the Onyx of old, but it’s not enough to catapult the project to greatness.

This album starts off strong but wanes by the middle and plays like a reach for nostalgia. Snowgoons don’t disappoint, offering beats that prove they’ve studied the greats. But while there are some bright moments, it seems the wake up call should be for Onyx. Though lyrically sound, the ferocity they’ve displayed in the past is missing and their subject matter has failed to evolve. Still, amidst the lackluster there’s a little fight left in Sticky. Wakedafucup would have fared better as a shorter album, allowing Sticky to shine.

If you read the description of Apollo Brown, Verbal Kent and Red Pill’s Ugly Heroes project on the Mello Music Group website, you know their definition of “an ‘ugly hero’ is the everyday blue collar individual that makes the world go ’round.” And hey, who doesn’t want to honor those guys? With gratuitous celebrity running rampant, a shift of attention is a breath of fresh air. But if you actually listened to the project you know that it’s anything but refreshing.

Released in late May, Ugly Heroes is fifteen tracks of working-class Midwestern gloom. Still, everything is done right from a technical standpoint. Apollo Brown’s beats are as expected, well-orchestrated yet moody boom bap. Both emcees kick hard knock rhymes that validate the everyday struggle. All that’s missing is the hope.

From the start the experienced Chi-Town native and Michigan bred newbie set the tone of tribulation with “Desperate.” Between Kent’s “I have rope, I could end it all,” and Red Pill’s “everyone I know is feeling downtrodden,” we’re left feeling we don’t know what the fuck we’re supposed to do either. The album doesn’t stray much from this format. Even “Heart and Soul,” an ode to love and the women holding it down through hard times is somber and sonically dreary.

It’s not until the end of the project that the mood lifts a bit. On “Just Relax” Brown crafts an easygoing track that is cheerful compared to the others, while Kent and Pill remind the listener “life’s so hard, just relax.” Bonus track “Ugly;” featuring scratches by DJ Eclipse, is the star of the story, showcasing the emcees’ lyrical dexterity in a way that the album’s theme thwarted.

Verbal Kent and Red Pill have amazing word play, flow variation and are the things great emcees are made of. To boot, Apollo Brown is one of the most consistent producers of the past decade. But Ugly Heroes is more ugly than heroic, more dark than enlightening. Instead of opening a door to the realities of working class life it firmly shuts one, weighing down not only the listener but the artists’ talents as well.

All relatively recent missteps aside, LL Cool J is one of the most celebrated names in hip-hop, with almost three decades in the game and a dozen albums under his belt. He’s on the short list when it comes to longevity and successfully parleying rap prowess and personality into a multi-platform career. Authentic, his thirteenth and first project not affiliated with Def Jam, does little to reflect that rich, award-winning history. Unless you count the high profile connects he’s made across genres in the music industry.

Beginning track, “Bath Salt”, produced by Trackmasters, is grating from Mr. Smith’s opening maniacal laugh. He kicks a handful of admirable sentiments like, “never try to sound like a rapper I raised;” a key issue for lyricists over 30. But while LL may be attempting to act his age, he misses the main goal – to create awesome, inspired music. In the following “Not Leaving You Tonight” featuring Fitz and the Tantrums and Eddie Van Halen, Akon affiliated Jaylien sets a more palatable soundscape sprinkled with “I Need Love” interpolations. It’s the first of a slew of failed attempts at a signature LL love song.

After another ringtone-esque Trackmasters cut, “We Came to Party”, boasts a lazy Snoop Dogg assist and pays homage to “Going Back to Cali”, via dissonant guitar chords and thick cuts. Then suddenly a Fat Man Scoop appearance agitates rather than adds energy to the song. Least abrasive is “Something About You (Love the World)” featuring the legendary Earth Wind and Fire, Uncle Charlie Wilson (the second time around) and former Pussycat Doll Melody Thornton. The same can be said for the sexy Soundz and Tricky Stewart produced “Between the Sheetz”, accompanied by singer-songwriter Michaela Shiloh. “Whaddup” featuring Chuck D, Travis Barker, Tom Morello and Z-Trip is almost promising, but a closer listen garners the most exciting touches samples of Public Enemy’s “Welcome to the Terrordome” and Barker’s drumming.

As a whole, Authentic plays like LL testing the waters of new styles, not a cohesive album; a compilation rather than a solo effort. For someone with a classic discography large enough to sample himself, this is almost unforgiveable. There are about 16 features too many, several artists making multiple unnecessary appearances. Still, there are small glimmers of hope throughout the project. If the G.O.A.T. ever decides to take a stab at a fourteenth, hopefully he’ll try and set those sparks afire. To be named Authentic, number thirteen doesn’t hold true to his legacy. But at least he’s still shouting out Farmers Boulevard.

No, you didn’t download the wrong album. It is certainly dead prez you’re listening to, not FloRida. Or 2 Chainz. Or like, Weezy or something. This deluxe reissue of Information Age is classic DP content paired with some melodious curiosities. Still, the physical release would have been adequately enhanced with half of the six additional tracks. No shade.

Opening song “A New Beginning” is just that – two years shy of a decade since their last album, it’s not just a chronological new beginning but a sonic one as well. Mid-tempo pop drum kits, ambient synths and sing-songy hooks back messages of freedom and revolution. You think it’s a fluke at first. Or perhaps they’re poking fun at today’s musical climate. But then the song ends sans accompanying skit signifying ‘sike,’ and second track ’“What if the Lights Go Out” begins with an equally pop-ish feel.

You do a quick scan through the remaining songs. You realize dead prez are dead serious. It’s a little jarring, a little strange – but strange in a good way. We think.

Recently added “Intelligence is Sexy” is strategically sequenced mid-album, driving things forward where they may have lagged before. As Gabby Duran of Miami based duo Duran Blu lends vocals on the inspirational “Overstand “ and Bun B spits a righteous verse on the “Time Travel Re-Mix” it’s easy to feel upgraded from last October’s digital release. But “Politrikks” and “Scar Strangled Banner” don’t up the ante, offering much of the same information and sound that was already present.

Information Age is a great studio production with crisp, well-defined highs and lows. It is mixed and mastered well. Even if the style shift is not your cup of tea, it does sound great and manages to give you the peculiar, never thought of feeling of being “zenned up and zoned out.”

Most importantly, the project sparks an interesting conversation, not just about timely world issues like spiritual awakening, corrupt government, manufactured disease and environmental woes. It evokes commentary on the mindless hooks we’re often reciting, wrapped in catchy dance-pop quasi electro beats and sing-songy hooks. Or addictive 808’s laced with uplifters. Either way, the music serves as a distraction from the shoddy content we’re fed regularly. On the contrary, when Stic and Mutulu are dropping science on politics and religion over these tracks, that’s got to be a win-win right?

Can we look toward a trend of substantial music over club beats? It can’t hurt to have a couple heavily rotated. The jury is still out however, on an entire album’s worth.

“Here’s a guy at the intersection of the corner of jazz and hip hop.”

Karriem Riggins is heralded, albeit quietly, as one of the most talented musicians connected to hip-hop culture. Of the qualities present in artists with this distinction is the ability to traverse genres while fusing influences into their own creations. Riggins embodies this concept – as a jazz drummer he is a known collaborator with Diana Krall, Donald Byrd and Ron Carter; when it comes to hip hop production he’s set the soundscape for names like Common, Talib Kweli and Slum Village. This October he presented his duality via a solo debut – 34 tracks of instrumental hip hop on Stones Throw Records, equal parts jazz and hip hop, 100% fresh.

A trip to the Stones Throw website will hip you to the fact that Alone Together was inspired by the Arthur Schwartz composed, Howard Dietz penned show tune turned jazz standard of the same name. An interpretation of the first line of that piece, “Alone together, beyond the crowd,” suggests that Riggins’ sync of styles transcends the norm. If our eardrums are the judges this project holds true to that theory.

Originally released separately, when conjoined Alone and Together maneuver through moods and movements with minimal seams. Its linear quality feels something like chilling in a DJ’s honeycomb hideout witnessing the birth of a mix. Seems like he’s smoldering; just getting started on Alone, and by Together full-on flames are dancing and rising around his MPC.

Early on “From Detroit/Belle Isle” gives a necessary nod to his hometown of Detroit, Michigan, moving into a demonstration of one of his weapons of choice, “Moogy Foog It,” and later a subtly funky “Alto Flute” for good measure. The use of words and lyrics in the production, along with meaningful song titles send subliminals as we move “Up,” in “Forward Motion” and travel to foreign lands, the first of which being “Africa.” Smooth standouts like “Harpsichord Session” and “Double Trouble” lean toward instrumentation and charm us with their jazziness.

Together shifts to high gear from the drum and bass lead, zone-out promoting “daOOOOOH!!,” and silky self-described groove of “Tom Toms,” to the head-nod inducing “Because” and hard-thumping “Boy Is Doin’ It Right.” There are some crown jewels on this leg, notably the breezy, intercontinental “Summer Maddness S. A.,” and haunting chords of “Matador.” But with so much stellar material it’s difficult to single out moments of brilliance. “No Way,” “I Need Love,” “K. Riffins,” and “Bring That Beat Back” are all tracks that’ll make you do just that.

Alone Together is an abstract composition, with only one track breaking past the three-minute mark; much like the late, great Dilla’s Donuts. We’d be remiss not to acknowledge his spirit hovering over this album, which suitably concludes with “J Dilla the Greatest.” Powerful drums boom and roll, evoking emotion we can only imagine is lament over the fallen legend but also vibes of triumph. Riggins captures Dilla’s essence while remaining true to his own. For his first autonomous release, he’s come mighty close to perfection.

It’s 1:00AM and I’m thinking about the love of my life. Only problem is I’m not the love of his. Ingeniously, Frank Ocean has provided mood music for my pining. If someone decided to create a soundtrack centered on Lauryn Hill’s “Ex-Factor” line, “tell me who I have to be to get some reciprocity” it would sound exactly like Channel ORANGE; an ode to unrequited love. But it isn’t only that. Ocean belts in a language directed at the heart that may disorient the mind at first ponder.

By now you’ve read several reviews of this project and most of them agree that it’s brilliant. It’s unequivocally good. It’s damn good and almost too good to break down because Ocean gives a vocal performance and lyrical demonstration of raw honest emotion that is hard to come by nowadays. Here goes trying to critique someone’s soul…

From Ocean’s character selection, “Thinkin Bout You” swirls in; pinpointing the whirlwind of feelings dusted up when that someone enters your life. When there’s nothing you can do to keep them off of your mind, wondering if they‘re doing the same, yet not keeping it real with yourself. When you know that for you it is the pinnacle, unprecedented, and you’re willing to wait out the complications, complexities and confusion for it all to become certain and magically simplify itself. Certainly, his decision to use this song he initially penned and referenced for Bridget Kelly as the album opener was dead on. It is clear when you feel the anguish in his falsetto.

It’s fitting that the color orange is associated with preventing self-injury (think orange “safety vests”). Ocean “channels” through this route or band of frequencies forging clarity on the ways we hurt ourselves in pursuit of happiness, and in pursuit of others. Who hasn’t accepted a lover’s bullshit as “Fertilizer”? Ultimately it nourishes the angst and promotes a range of sentiments. For one, “Sierra Leone” depicts the youthful and carefree and like the diamond-mining Republic of the same name, how it feels to be “glistening, shimmerin’ underneath the sunlight.” That diamond in the rough could be conception after running out of Trojans and bringing another cryin’ babe into the world, because sometimes love does that as well.

Lonny Breaux’s songwriting taps into your core and exposes those places you’d prefer to keep hidden. He’s keen on the fact that the heart wants what it wants and our interpretations lean toward the comforting. Aptly on “Sweet Life” he sings “my TV ain’t HD, that’s too real,” knowing we can’t always handle that high a resolution. There’s also commentary on how we relate to riches via the interlude “Not Just Money,” where a woman explains it can be “the difference between having a home and living on the streets.” On the other side of the spectrum Earl Sweatshirt makes a no doubt deliberate apathetic appearance on “Super Rich Kids” that seems to stick out a proverbial tongue at the wealthy. Listing points of excess and ending with “I’m searching for a real love” reminds us of that rarity money can not buy. Staying on the subject of vices Ocean struggles to “keep a grown woman sober” on “Pilot Jones” and further explores addiction, destruction, corruption and denial within the tripping snares and bass of “Crack Rock.”

Perhaps the most epic composition of the project is the almost ten minute long “Pyramids” which shuttles us to times before Christ and back to the present, juxtaposing the luxe and the dated; “top floor motel suite twisting my cigars, floor model TVs with the VCR.” He tells the story of a queen dethroned; self-slaughtered, kidnapped and defiled. A track like “Pyramids” at the midpoint of the album jolts us to the reality it’s not just the writing keeping us captivated. In this middle section we’re treated to evanescent gems like John Mayer’s guitar riffs on “White.” It’s hard to resist dancing and performing your best air drumming during “Monks.” Ocean’s talk of enlightenment, India and “clean chakra, good karma” signify it’s no coincidence an Orange hue represents Swadhisthana, of which key issues are relationships, violence, addictions and pleasure, governing reproduction, creativity, joy and enthusiasm.

Is it the sermon-like speech, or the organ that conjures up a certain purple one’s intro to “Lets Go Crazy” on “Bad Religion”? Still, I’ll spare the comparisons, albeit flattering. This production remains somber and bare and holy, as we picture Ocean in a confession booth seeking atonement. A rousing assist by Andre 3000 on “Pink Matter;” the only other feature on the album, leaves us in suspense as Benjamin often does. (It also leaves us wondering if Ocean is referring to the pink, amorphous blob Majin Buu from Dragon Ball Z.) “Forrest Gump” and “End” close things out with Frank again unable to get someone out of his mind. There’s talk of “boulder heavy lies,” a car door opens, someone exits and walks into a building. We hear the muted music back in the car, as someone sits waiting although the door has closed. Just like unrequited love.

Channel ORANGE operates much like that elusive lover, bringing you to the throes of ecstasy, then taking it abruptly away – a source of great, fleeting pleasure and pain. And you keep running back. By the last song you’re already craving the first; Malay, Om’Mas Keith, Pharrell Williams and Ocean himself created a soundscape you can loop, experiencing something authentic each go round. And you’ll need to, to discover the intricacies of Ocean’s writing. For those folks wondering where R&B went, it’s right here. For genuine emotion-evoking music, equal parts ambient programming and musicianship, complex, creative lyrics, and SOUL, you need only turn the channel.

February 23, 1986: The LA Times’ Connie Johnson penned a young Janet Jackson had “truly arrived” after releasing her third studio album Control. “This is a story about control, my control,” Jackson declared on the album and title track intro. A year to date from that review a child was born, who on May 11, 2012 launched his own breakthrough album with the very same words. Ab-Soul’s Control System signaled his arrival, only his story about control reaches new depths of angst and rebellion. He’s enlightening on the control systems of the world, so by all means when instructed to “cut off your radios, cut off your televisions,” follow suit.

If the intro was the kick-off, the Carson, California native catches and tucks the mic, running for the goal from the start. Sounwav and Dave Free of Digi+Phonics lay an explosive foundation in “Soul Ho3”over which songstress Jhene Aiko sweetly commands us to prepare for the voyage, “open your eyes, it’s about that time.” Soul fans out his cards for us; from origins, identity, and his current position in the game (“said I was the underdog, turns out I’m the secret weapon,”) to inspirations (“listen to Alori Joh, it’s been a minute since I saw her smile, she’s the reason why I go as hard as I do now.”) “Track Two” continues in the same fashion – this is high-powered shit.

By the time “Bohemian Grove” glides in the star of the story has calmed a bit after an aggressive let-off. Taebeast and Dave Free offer a laid-back groove over which Soul gives a gander at living life, drinking and perhaps engaging in prescription pill prompted sex. It’s not a complete diversion. Messaging like “motherfuck the government, motherfuck the system…” is still present. But women are the impetus here — “got me harder than sneaking a bitch in Bohemian Grove,” the track’s namesake being the campground of all male art circle Bohemian Club. Soul drops jewels and nods to his crew (“bet I got some weed like Schoolboy Q,”) and the greats (“Sincere as Nasir…”)

Just as quickly as we’ve let our guard down, in fade the private words of Colonel Edward House to President Woodrow Wilson. Passages of tyrannical advice are recited as Soulo shouts, sings and asserts “control,” ending with House’s prediction: “they will be our chattel.” In a nod to an admitted influence Jhene Aiko murmurs “kick your game, spit your flow…” and enter the Dave Free produced “Terrorist Threats” painting a vivid picture of defiance. “I just wanna be free, I ain’t finna be nobody chattel.” Soul charges, “if all the gangs in the world unify we stand a chance against the military tonight,” meanwhile trunk-pumpable bass, eerie synths and a Gregorian chant-like backdrop incite whatever rage you might have against the machine. Soulo’s vocal intensity expertly escalates in the first two verses, from composed observations to combative revelations leading to the frenetic energy of Danny Brown’s closing verse.

Several tracks in, it’s clear Soul has a penchant for the complex and dichotomous— in the case of “Terrorist Threats” you’re not sure whether to zone out or start the revolution. Following that the sinister keys of Taebeast crafted “Pineal Gland” offer a similar choice— ugly face head nod or ponder whether his mind trip is “all a dream” – evidence of an active pineal gland or drug induced? It’s no coincidence the track shares a moniker with the melatonin and dimethyltryptamine producing gland in the brain, also known as the third eye. “I might be trippin’ off that DMT,” he raps. Note the gland’s creation of melatonin is stimulated by darkness and inhibited by light much like Soul himself; usually shaded due to light sensitivity.

But getting back to systems of control, the government isn’t the only culprit. Orchestrated by Sounwave with additional guitar by J. Valle, “Double Standards” is a discerning take on society perpetuated gender roles. “My auntie taught me always treat my lady right, my uncle taught me only love em’ for the night,” he recalls, using the castigation of 14-year old Amber Cole and the anonymity of the young boy she was discovered servicing as an example. “Mixed Emotions;” the mixture being cough syrup and soda, is an ode to getting “po’d up.” Soulo hopes name-checking DJ Screw and Pimp C isn’t cliché; listeners hope he isn’t leaning too hard. He figures that but doesn’t care, “I do all this shit just to say get off my dick. You think you know, but you have no idea.” Suitably King Blue screws the last 40 seconds or so for good measure, a chorus flipping the hook from Rene and Angela’s “I Love You More.”

On the next drive his TDE brethren are running up field too, with appearances by Schoolboy Q on the gritty Nez and Rio arranged “Sopa,” Jay Rock atop a sexy Isaac Hayes sampled “Lust Demons” and Kendrick Lamar beaming on the suitably titled “ILLuminate.” Skhye Hutch provides the auriculars while Soul speaks on ascension simultaneously supplying “food for thought” and sensing a “shift in paradigm.” And then magic happens. We’re treated to a duet between Soul and the late Alori Joh on “A Rebellion.” Curtiss King laces a sweet melody with soft but firm drums. Soul questions “Who’s bold enough to rebel?” “I’m probably all alone on this one” he softly trades with Alori Joh’s angelic urges to turn it up and play it again.

There’s more talk of earning stripes on “Showin’ Love” and on his bona fied love song “Empathy,” he racks them up singing on key with more posthumous vocals from Joh and an assist from JaVonte. Upon arrival at “Beautiful Death” the Skhye Hutch set ambience is steady, reinforcing that listeners stand for something and not be so afraid to die. Autobiographical “The Book of Soul” reveals details of the MCs childhood and love affair with Loriana Johnson. It plays out like a letter to her as he reassures “I love you in a place where there’s no space and time.” In the end he ties it all together, “don’t be dethroned by these systems of control. Just keep your fingers crossed and get them locks off your soul.” It’s fitting that the “Black Lip Bastard” remix ends the effort, showcasing each member of the Black Hippy Crew.

Ab-Soul’s lyricism is razor sharp. He’s a thinker; delivering musings on science, technology, politics and more in layman’s terms interwoven with pop culture references. But he does more than rap well; that’s only part of the picture. He understands his voice as an instrument. In those times it is filled with raw emotion he maintains control of not only what he says but how he says it, aware of when to unleash and when to hold back, sometimes audibly multiple MCs on the same track.

That versatility along with crisp dynamic production renders Control System a work of art, switching from hard thumping phases and pitch shifting to chill, jazzy sounds you might consider more aligned to a member of a crew called Black Hippy. And it helps to remember that Soulo isn’t from the streets. This works to his advantage. His flavor; his introspective outer monologue portrays street life from a fresh perspective. At the same time he’s allowed the leisure to ponder greater issues. Reminiscent of Dead Prez’s Revolutionary but Gangsta, his anti-establishment rhetoric is as informative as any current protest. Soulo’s honest commentary is brave, his play for the spot of hip hop greats courageous, his knowledge of what they’ve contributed admirable.

Ab is the perfect example of an artist who’s used the past to sculpt his present day experiences and envision the future. He’s looking back just long enough to direct his path, and then full speed ahead. For TDE, he truly is the secret weapon. With Control System he’s run the mic straight to goal and scored. Touchdown.

Lee Bannon released the seven track, eleven minute Fantastic Plastic EP in September of last year on Plug Research, and talk about a teaser! For fans, it was only right he came back this February with a full length album of the same title. At first listen, it’s hard to believe Bannon hails from The Golden State’s capital. The Fantastic Plastic LP is a conduit to space exploration, hinting he’s a visitor from light years away.

Bannon packed an array of sounds into Fantastic Plastic’s first release, ranging from instrumental loops to effects, to sound bytes about 8 track cartridges and what could translate as an autobot frequency. The lofty vision is actualized in record time with a track featuring the Wu’s Rebel INS. The LP more than doubles the track listing and triples the running time, but don’t expect an explanation of the original aural gallimaufry. Instead, expect more of the same. Still, for an album so fleeting, the content is palpable.

Futuristic is an understatement as Yu raps “astronauts rock this while they’re pushing through the clouds” on the opening track. Remaining from the EP are the virtually untouched “Peace,” “Phone Drone,” “Grey,” and “Space Glide.” We miss some of the more melodically driven tracks like “Master” and “Thumbs” but clearly Bannon had an underlying theme to stick with. Also missing was what might have been the EP’s universal draw, “Something Higher” featuring Inspektah Deck. But the LP makes up for it with ample features.

Chuck Inglish offers smooth storytelling over the sinister “Search & Destroy,” before a robotic Allegro sets in, ending with distorted keyboard. Del the Funky Homosapien makes his first of two appearances with Sol, contributing to the head-nod inspiring “PG&E” laid over a 60’s psychedelic rock-charged sound we hear again throughout the record. “In Color” featuring Poor begins laid back but its cacophonous ending will jolt you out of the zone of that beginning groove.

There are a few instrumentals like “Lord Gnarlon” a somber cut featuring vocal clips of Sacramento street performer Down Town James Brown. The succinct “Plastic Man;” pulling from English rock band The Kinks’ 1969 song of the same name, showcases funky guitar riffs and classically jazzy piano, all overlaid with those darn robots again.

Del the Funky Homosapien shines on “The Things,” and “The Noise in Color” picks up right where it leaves off rhythmically, hinting at a representation of the visual through sound .

Bonus track “The News” featuring Stones Throw family members MED and Oh No, along with Roc C ends the album traditionally with beats and rhymes. We can’t help but feel, however, that after deciphering the project’s messaging it’s a bone thrown to those who didn’t quite catch on.

Overall, Bannon scores with eclecticism reminiscent of Oxnard Green, adding unique electronic sensibilities. There are traditional moments of clarity within Fantastic Plastic but this isn’t an album you skip around on. Listening in succession is recommended to comprehend his artistic commentary on what technology has become versus what we predicted of it in the past. Many if not all of the songs begin one way and end the polar opposite, trading the past for the future between sample driven production and mechanized sound effects.

Bannon’s courage to experiment beyond the norm and reach higher than the depths of the “hell they call stagnant” as Yu mentioned on the title track is necessary and worthy of applause. That being said, this album is the opposite of easy listening. The soundscape he’s created is fascinating and the messaging poignant, but keeping up with the constant and at times sudden musical changes can become tiresome. Something tells us this will shoot straight over the head of the average listener.

North Carolina-based emcee Median knows how to alleviate the drama. His first two projects; The Path to Relief EP and Median’s Relief appear to be named in that spirit, and The Sender is no exception. Brought to you by Jamla and +FE Music, the full length sophomore offering of this Hall of Justus comrade actualizes a breath of fresh air.

From the start it is difficult to select standout songs; the August 2011 release delivers the sentiments promised in the Kev Brown produced intro. That toast to the gift of giving, the pleasure of pleasing and receiving was the perfect salutation to “Take A Chance,” where Phonte lends his first of a trio of scintillating verses on the album. But for as smooth as the opening track is, the second goes hard. The Khrysis composed “Bright Individual” almost blasts though your speakers. Heavy drums skip playfully but knock over a bass line worthy of your ugliest ugly face, as Median in contrast casually surfs the beat.

Completing the trifecta is the 9th Wonder’s “Open My Thoughts” as Median attests “you’re only funky as your last cut.” It seems he’s taking heed to his own mantra; not focusing on past efforts but bringing us fresh music with a renewed vigor. Gliding in next the seductive S1 concocted “Change Your Life;” featuring Rappin’ Tay along with Big Remo, and Singin’ Tay on the hook, sustains the groove.

The first eight tracks of The Sender are damn near flawless with carefully selected assists, complementary melodies and a commanding performance by Median. A couplet of Khrysis jams secure mid-album, and the gruff voiced producer even blesses the mic on the Tyrone Davis diced “Okie Dokers.” King Mez steals the show on “Fresh Breath” which also features Sundown of Actual Proof, showcasing some first-rate Carolina talent.

After a slight lull, things pick back up with Fatin’s “Sizzlin.” B-girl incarnate Rapsody lends her syrupy rasp for four bars of the hook. It’s just enough, but we almost wish she’d have stuck around for a few more. Toward the end there’s another drop in mood, but the suitably named “Special” featuring Phonte and YahZarah’s pitch-perfect harmonies more than makes up for it. “Kiss The Sky” boasting ethereal vocals from Sy Smith, and title cut “The Sender” finish up steady.

The Sender is a gem in 2011 hip hop. Median continues to show his breadth as a lyricist; rhyming the intricacies of his mind with fluidity from Only Built 4 Cuban Links references to meditative musings on life. While it may not have had the mainstream appeal it deserves, his gift will stand the test of time. We’re sure as he predicted, ten years later the world will still listen.
]]> http://www.hiphopsite.com/2011/12/26/median-the-sender-review/feed/ 2 http://www.hiphopsite.com/2011/11/10/mayer-hawthorne-how-do-you-do-12-review/ http://www.hiphopsite.com/2011/11/10/mayer-hawthorne-how-do-you-do-12-review/#comments Thu, 10 Nov 2011 11:00:50 +0000 http://www.hiphopsite.com/?p=40403 [cont.]]]>

Mayer Hawthorne follows up his debut, A Strange Arrangement with How Do You Do; almost 45 minutes of tunes that ensure we do very well indeed. Hawthorne shows a range on this project that gives everyone something to get down to. Not abandoning the signature throwback sound that rendered him a standout in the R&B world, he interweaves new influences in a way that’s exquisite to the ear.

How Do You Do opens with “Get To Know You;” an intoxicating aural aphrodisiac that may have you thinking you put on the wrong album. Soon Mayer sets the story with the intro and you realize you’re in the right place. The mellow sound of the Flugelhorn and his lubricious vocal, offset by heart-tugging strings make this track a bit sexier than past work, yet a welcome surprise.

Next “A Long Time” enters feeling like an outtake from Steely Dan’s Gaucho – the coalescence of electric piano and guitar would make Fagen and Becker proud. Later in the album sequence “Finally Falling” and “News” similarly awaken memories of the band, if only for the slick genre blending. “Can’t Stop” holds an unexpected appearance by Snoop Dogg; the surprise not that Snoop makes the assist, but that he’s crooning right along with Mayer – and hitting every note. Within the first three tracks this album boldly taps into three dimensions of Hawthorne as a musician.

By “Dreaming” we’re back to the Mayer we know and love from his entrée; happily so, but still exhilarated from the dynamic hints of evolution. The bright piano driven ditty is enough to lift the grouchiest of spirits, and the next few cuts hold them there. The album closes out strong with “You’re Not Ready;” a love song perfect for slow dancing and “No Strings;” an up-tempo groove with impeccable drumming that makes a one night stand sound like bliss, but it’s not over. Bonus track “Henny and Gingerale” starts the party and promises to have the most reserved two-stepping after one sip.

All curveballs aside, the meat and potatoes is classic Mayer. He’s perfected his formula and expertly executed the new tricks up his proverbial sleeve. His song writing remains direct but clever, and hits all the relationship notes from piqued interest to falling in love. To the question, “How do you do?” the answer is “No complaints.”

Cormega’s anticipated Raw Forever celebrates the ten-year anniversary of his 2001 opus The Realness – a marriage of the respected old and the refreshing new. Twenty-two tracks of familiar hits with a sprinkling of band-assisted fresh material break the two-years since Cory McKay’s last release. The two-disc album should appease Cormega supporters, but definitely leave them wanting more.

Disc one compiles eleven of Mega’s most memorable songs from The Realness, the acclaimed 2002 follow-up The True Meaning, the long deferred The Testament; which finally saw the light of day in 2005, and 2009’s Born and Raised. Hits like “Love Is Love,” “Dead Man Walking,” and “Get Out My Way” will remind fans of why they were drawn to the Queensbridge raised emcee when he first emerged. But when recalling Mega’s standout work, a few gems like the Nas fueled “Thun & Kicko” and “Love In Love Out,” “Angel Dust” and “A Thin Line” are noticeably absent.

On disc two The Revelations up the ante, providing live accompaniment to complement Cory’s relaxed flow, laden with Nike references. Still, the most surprising aspect of the second disc is that the tracks aren’t named, but rather identified by Roman numerals. Don’t expect a completely different sound; even this disc has adaptations mixed within. Live instruments turned samples turned back to live instruments can get a bit cumbersome on tracks like “IV;” formerly known as “What Did I Do,” but the band makes the most of what they’re working with. The last two tracks are instrumentals, which allow The Revelations to showcase their unique talents as a unit.

It is the features that bring life to this project. Most remarkable are “I;” a typical example of the introspective Cormega’s musings on hood psychosocial relations, and “III” featuring Lil Fame of MOP and Baby Pun; with hard electric guitar riffs and a strong driving bass line sure to get heads nodding. Also notable are “VI” with assists from AZ and Nature – a nostalgic sound reminiscent of collaborations of the past, and “VII” with Havoc, Tragedy Khadafi and Blaq Poet. The Revelations aptly update this groove and give it a mature feel.

Raw Forever is a must have for Cormega faithfuls. He stays true to his winning formula, and the guest appearance roster is enough to excite even the casual listener. Paired with a live band his music evolves into adult contemporary tales of the streets. We only wish the project was more a step into the future than a blast from the past.

A few Great Lakes didn’t stop Low Budget Collective affiliate Hassaan Mackey and Mello Music Group’s Apollo Brown from connecting to bake Daily Bread. The New York MC and Michigan bred producer offered fifteen strong, emotion evoking tracks this summer; give or take a few interludes. Their integration is seamless – Brown provides a musical plane that travels beyond region, and Mackey represents as the voice of the under-served.

Although sparse it is the interludes that keep this adventure on course as a thematic guide for the listener. The Daily Bread intro alludes to the meal we’re about to receive, along with a thirst quencher to wash it down. Midway “Different World” speaks to the choices we face in a changeable society, and to wrap things up “Heroes” reminds us we don’t have many. Brown manipulates soul samples; some familiar, but coupled with Mackey’s hard knock messaging introduces a fresh perspective.

Ears will perk up at the melodious “Something” in which Mackey addresses nostalgia, sparing specifics to keep it universally relatable. “Megaphone” magnifies a harder sound from Brown, with gutsy horns and brolic boom bap drums to match. Mackey in turn attacks it with a harder flow, portraying the perils of the hood. Also a standout is the Finale assisted “Higher” where a lolling sax lays the foundation of despair and brighter strings symbolize the optimism that prevails in Mackey’s storytelling. The project ends on a high note with the grandiose sounding “Like A Diamond,” featuring nods to the original thug poet Nas on the hook as well within the bars.

The album plays out in around 40 minutes; none of the tracks quite hitting the four minute mark. Brown and Mackey’s brevity may leave some searching for closure. For most however, Daily Bread is just about right. A perfect portion; both satisfying and nutritious.

This year, OFWGKTA’s dynamic duo, MellowHype, reissued their sophomore album BlackenedWhite on Mississippi’s Fat Possum Records. Remixed, re-mastered and streamlined to eleven tracks for maximum efficiency; Hodgy Beats and Left Brain are quickly perfecting a formula that speaks to the younger generation. It is chord heavy mood music laced with the spirit of rebellion, but manages to convey their genuine love for and commitment to the music.

MellowHype’s delivery is also palatable to older hip hop enthusiasts and the masses when considering its framework. Hodgy’s rhymes about skills, achievements, crew love, sex, drugs and violence aren’t foreign concepts; there are just different drugs and different crews nowadays. Once that’s understood, you can become rapt in his flow as it speeds and slows in tandem with Left Brain’s ambience altering beats. Varying cadences, clever wordplay and a constant ravenous energy engage the listener for the duration.

Guest appearances are limited to fellow OFWGKTA acts. Domo Genesis, Mike G, Tyler, The Creator and Frank Ocean all stamp their trademark styles onto Left Brain’s mostly hype canvases. On the mellow side of things opening track “Primo” is a standout, evoking the chillest of vibes as Hodgy prescribes a dose of his “primo emo kilo grams.” A notable ode to their chosen profession, “Brain” relates their view that beats and bars are what they do best, and “Loaded” serves as supporting evidence.

Getting us hype are “Deaddeputy” and “F666 the Police,” which survived the paring of the original 2010 release. But we can’t help but wish that a few others had escaped the downsizing. Cuts like “Hell” featuring Frank Ocean, “Loco” and “Chordaroy” with assists from Earl Sweatshirt and Wolf Haley didn’t make the final tracklist, yet masterfully showcase Left Brain’s melodic production style and capture the pair’s unconventional, though identifiable spirit.

BlackenedWhite is solid, but more than anything builds anticipation for the next MellowHype offering. The talented two possess a synergy that sounds great, feels effortless and denotes their potential to set future projects on fire. Hodgy’s budding lyricism and Left Brain’s keen ear welcome casual listeners yet still represent the sometimes intimidating OFWGKTA brand. We’re eager for any upcoming Left Brain coined “hip hop upbeat slow shit” set to grace their catalog.

This album starts off strong with title track, “Monumental”; Pete Rock refreshing our memories that the gems he drops are verbal as well. Tek and Steele deliver as expected; hardcore, though contemplative raps on street savvy subjects. There’s no denying the skills are still sharp as they maintain the unfaltering pace Pete Rock sets on the soundtrack.

Steady intensity considered; there are plenty of peaks in the voyage. “Top of the World” featuring Memphis Bleek is one of these, with a victorious energy that’s infectious. Shortly past mid-album lives a downright danceable “Do It” featuring the obscure Hurricane G, who comes off to sounds reminiscent of the break beat years.

Veterans in hip-hop, the triad could have easily carried this project on their own shoulders. But there are only three tracks; “Fire”, “Go Off”, and “Time To Say”, without features. Still, they invited heavyweights like Bun B, Raekwon, Freeway and Black Rob to the assist roster, who each contribute something unique and harmonious.

Also memorable is “That’s Hard” appropriately featuring fellow Duck Down kin Sean Price and Yonkers’ own Styles-P. “Night Time” featuring Buckshot; on which Pete Rock once again blesses the microphone, is perfect for cruising the streets after dark. Tracks like “This One” and “Feel Me” with Top Dog and Rock of Heltah Skeltah respectively, may just prompt you to pull out your old Boot Camp Clik albums and keep the vibe going.

Monumental doesn’t play like a Smif n Wessun album with Pete Rock beats, or a Pete Rock album with Smif n Wessun kicking rhymes. The Soul Brother Number One pulled from various genres to stage an exhilarating ride from Mount Vernon to Brooklyn. Each brings an upgraded, branded contribution to the table to form a new entity; still rugged, but older, wiser and crisper.

Equally superb in quality and arrangement; this project can be played in its entirety at every listen, and is concise enough to do it twice. All members of the crew shine, with assists from Kenn Starr, Sean Born, DJ Roddy Rod, Hassan Mackey and DJ Marshall Law; Quartermaine and Cy Young with their own interludes. One can only revel in these cuts like “Army Fatigue Rap” and “The Combination.” As each emcee tags in it’s as if one fuels the next; the energy transfer electric. Reaching outside of the crew; Asher Roth and The Kid Daytona appear on “More Gritz,” adding their own seasoning to the pot.

Kaimbr emerges as the consummate storyteller; whether of street instances in “Three Sixty”, real life reflections in “My Apology” or fantasies, like the rap pirate world in “Hook.” Wordplay is his forte, alternating internal and external rhymes that keep your brain dancing through bars, best demonstrated on “Solid” and “Firewater.” As sole producer, Kev Brown manages to flip and bounce familiar samples into fresh sequences while living up to his signature soulful sound. Delightfully, he also shows up lyrically on several tracks, reminding us that the gifted misfit also has skills on the mic.

The Alexander Green Project can come off as a crew album, only that’s not a bad thing. Reminiscent of the Native Tongues, Low Budget reminds us of a time when a true rap crew existed. Not a group, or a super group, but a team of likeminded artists that have fun making music and are painfully good at it. In that spirit, this release is effortlessly kragenoff.

In association with TWV.