The New Orleans funk band Galactic has made a name for itself on the jam-band circuit but has also toured hop-hoppers like The Roots, Jurassic 5 and Gift of Gab. For From the Corner to the Block, the instrumental quintet's sixth album, Galactic enlisted a dream team of rhyme-slingers from the alternative rap ranks — Juvenile, Mr. Lif, Chali 2na, to name a few — but has not sublimated their strengths and made a straight hip-hop album. This is a modern New Orleans funk record enlivened by a series of clever, socially conscious verses spiced up by a few roof-raising hooks.
Galactic sets the tone from the jump — with drummer Stanton Moore's rolling, NOLA-centric intro to "What You Need." Lyrics Born puts some swing into his swaggering rap, and when the chant-like chorus comes around, a cauldron of overdriven keyboards, squalling guitar and wailing blues harp percolates beneath.
From the Corner to the Block continues in this exhilarating vein, each guest MC building chemistry with the ensemble. On "…And I'm Out," Mr. Lif rants against cops rousting a group of young black men merely "outside, chillin', refining their ideas and building."
Galactic and cohorts raise the temperature even further about halfway through, when Boots Riley of The Coup steps to the mic for "Hustle Up." The funk-rock workout absolutely slams, culminating in a fist-pumping chorus: "Everybody on the flo'/ Hustle up, rustle up, muscle up/ What the fuck?" On the third verse, Robert Mercurio ratchets up his fuzzed-out bass line and takes the tune to manic heights. Phew.
Galactic also makes a handful of overt nods to their home city, especially on "Second and Dryades," a percussion-intensive workout that updates the call-and-response primitivism of Mardi Gras Indian tribes. Crescent City legend Big Chief Monk Boudreaux sings and chants over the pulsating beat. Young New Orleans up-and-comer Trombone Shorty joins the group for the strutting, horn-driven instrumental "Tuff Love."
Perhaps the best meeting of urban hip-hop and Big Easy tradition is found in the title track, where Juvenile spouts the rhymes and the Soul Rebels Brass Band plays a boisterous horn arrangement, while the band lays down the quintessential hometown groove.
The disc's only disappointments are a couple of instrumental interludes that clock in at just over a minute. Both "Sidewalk Stepper" and "Fanfare" dig into deep-pocket funk. Why not make the tunes longer, let the fellas stretch out a bit? But as quibbles go, that's a minor one. From the Corner to the Block is a winner. 4 stars —Eric Snider
Unglamorous
LORI MCKENNA
(Warner Bros.)
Don't let the "produced by Tim McGraw" or the "backup vocals by Faith Hill" credits mislead you. Lori McKenna's major label debut Unglamorous is not a pop-country offering. The sound is polished, but at no point are McKenna's piercing lyrics and so-authentic-it-hurts vocal style overwhelmed or undermined. The Boston native has been releasing smart, touching folk albums since 2000. Her music made it to McGraw and Hill, and the first couple of country music took a shine, with Hill recording three McKenna numbers, including the title track, on her 2005 album Fireflies. On Unglamorous, McGraw does a fine job of making McKenna sound a bit more radio-friendly via a full band of ace session players and well-placed strings. A song like "Drinkin' Problem" probably would have been a hit for a country star like Sammi Smith back in the '70s, back before Nashville decided to whitewash working-class problems. Of course, the great irony here is that McGraw and Hill are major peddlers of pop country, but here they lend their support to a singer/songwriter who brilliantly tackles life's thornier issues. 4 stars —Wade Tatangelo
None Shall Pass
AESOP ROCK
(Definitive Jux)
Months after indie mainstay Def Jux returned to the big-time with label prez El-P's five-years-in-the-making I'll Sleep When You're Dead, that other flagship Jukie — Aesop Rock — steps into the spotlight with his fourth original full-length. And while Aes' beat selection and mic technique are impressive (his pitch, delivery and flow dip and dive without a hitch), you still can't figure out what the hell he's rapping about. The man remains one of indie hip-hop's most inscrutable lyricists, more interested in how his lines sound than in what they mean. This can work, as on the title track, which is loaded with witty absurdisms like "Not enough young in his lung for the water wing." Too often, though, the words just fly by without leaving much of an impact. 3 stars —Cooper Levey-Baker
This article appears in Sep 5-11, 2007.