The blues-based, jazz-seasoned title track stands as one of Gaye’s most taut singles, with moody keys and the singer’s aching falsetto belying the ice cold bravado of the lyric, “I came up hard babe, but now I’m cool” (to the extent that they’re often quoted as “I come apart”). Gaye’s vocals become increasingly frantic as the bridge crescendos, and then slip back into a swaggering defiance for the swinging chorus. It’s one of Gaye’s most emotionally layered vocal performances and–startlingly–the album’s only full vocal track. The rest of the soundtrack uses nuanced and at times contradictory instrumentation to expand upon the themes laid out in the title track.

The album’s often dynamic drumming conveys the exterior – the bobbing walks, the easy head nods and handshakes of the characters that populate the film’s urban streets. “”T’ Plays it Cool” bristles with a loose, yet precise rhythm that captures the vibrance of city life. Yet, as the keys creep in, courtesy of Gaye’s work behind a then-futuristic-sounding Moog synthesizer, an underlying tension starts to build. When Trevor Lawrence’s plaintive saxophone enters the mix, a somber undercurrent threatens to expose the easy rhythm for the facade that it is. Indeed, as the album plays out, the assured percussion takes more and more of a back seat to the less controlled, more emotive instruments. Horns, particularly Lawrence’s sax (in many ways the albums vocalist) generally convey internal uncertainty, as on the eery “Life Is a Gamble,” while keys highlight external danger, best exemplified on the foreboding “Deep In It.” Both elements converge seamlessly on “Don’t Mess with Mr. ‘T’.” Though the title suggests a threat, the combination of desperation and tenderness orchestrated by Gaye make the song play out as a desperate plea.

For this 40th anniversary release, Trouble Man is given the true deluxe treatment. Not only are alternate takes of soundtrack cuts unearthed, complete with extended grooves (“’T’ Plays it Cool [Unedited Version]”) and additional vocal accompaniment (“’T’ Stands for Trouble [Alternate Version]”), but for the first time ever, Gaye’s score from the film’s theatrical release has been reconstructed via a painstaking process detailed in the collection’s extensive liner notes. Where the soundtrack album reflects the film’s interior life, the score drives the action, moving nimbly from the communal warmth of “Pool Hall” to the heart pounding menace of “Stick Up,” and slow building adrenaline of “Car Ride/Looking For Pete.”

Perhaps the score’s greatest gem is the rendering of the title track used over the film’s opening credits. The track spotlights a smokey baritone vocal from Gaye atop his angelic falsetto, the the vocals at once competing and harmonizing. It’s a spellbinding four minutes that perfectly captures the duality at the heart of Trouble Man and, more broadly, Gaye himself. By showing the full breadth of his work on the film, and pulling back the curtain on his meticulous creative process, this expanded edition illustrates that Trouble Man deserves a place alongside not only the more heralded soundtrack offerings from Gaye’s contemporaries and his own more revered ‘70s classics, but on the shelf of any music or cinema enthusiast.

- Jeff Harvey

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Perhaps to the casual fan’s surprise, switching up styles is nothing new to Mr. Bundick. From his early days of acoustic serenades to his recent french inspired house outfit Les Sins, dude has been all over the place in the past couple years both musically and literally. Fans at live shows all over will notice he’s recently added other musicians and now performs as a band. That being said, make no mistake about it, most of the instrumentation on the album is just Toro y Moi. More so ‘Moi’.

Right from the intro “Harm in Charge” and it’s apt verse “Don’t let me hold you down, we could be there now, and I’d rather drive it through the night” it’s clear this album lends itself to a roadtrip. A sick breakbeat with off kilter open hats and signature vocal samples drive the track as the synths build an awkwardly catchy melody. This leads directly in to “Say That” an even more beat driven jam that surely deserves play in clubs all over. The formula is similar for “Harm in Charge” but the outcome is all the more dramatic with the almost DnB bass leading the charge.

The following track “So Many Details” offers a stark contrast to the prior two. As does it’s video. As with most Toro tracks, the drums play a crucial role and this collection is perhaps the most hip hop influenced. The bass drum has a certain thump not previously offered. Beautifully haunting synthesizers add to the drama but by far the arpeggiated one is what makes this track shine. Bundick’s apathy is abundant and is maybe best summed up with the line “Ok, I’ll take you back, Alright let’s pick up where we started / Don’t think that’s in my head, I’m not a bit coldhearted.”

Even though one easily could, I wanted to avoid reviewing every track in order but I’d be remiss if I failed to mention “Rose Quartz.” What’s impressive about this one is how much patience Chaz requires of his listeners. I’m one of the many from my generation of excess that will fast forward a track to get to the part I like but not with “Rose Quartz.” Indeed the nearly two-minute build up is part of what makes this track the jewel in the crown (bad pun intended). A simple synth chord progression with another arpeggiated rhythm is the backbone to the entire track. In keeping with tradition, shortly-chopped vocal cuts are thrown in sporadically, but on beat. This signature seems like an ode to his appreciation of hip-hop. The beat builds slowly, first with just a lonely bass drum. Eventually the patient listener is rewarded with a shaker, then a proper mid-kick and–eventually–a snare. The lyrics play off a vocal sample of someone singing “I feel weak, uh huh” which is more evidence that at the core this is a pop album.

The remainder of the album is as solid as any past release from Toro, with highlights like the Sgt. Peppers-esque “High Living” to the love ballad “Cake.” The later is a testament to his aim for the record. The chorus “She knows, I’ma be her boy forever” floats over dreamy pads and an upbeat yet subtle drum break. In interviews, Chaz stated he wanted to make an album his girlfriend could sing along to. From my estimates, she won’t be the only one.

-Nick McClure

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This time round he’s collaborating with the vanguard of progressive black music – Robert Glasper, Chris “Daddy” Dave and Pino Palladino – and up and coming talent in the form of Emily King and Hindi Zahra. Together they’ve made an album full of songs that are instantly familiar (classic, you could say) yet propelled by beats and rhythms that are thoroughly contemporary. Tying it all together is Jose himself, the man with the man with the golden voice.

The album launches with “It’s All Over Your Body”, which picks up thematically from where the sexually charged Blackmagic left off. But the opening drum break (that carries the opening 45 seconds of the track) serves notice that this is very much a new era in Jose James’ career. He’s still got the silky flow, he’s still got the ability to write killer hooks, but now he’s even tighter, even better. This is the sound of a musician at the top of his game marking his entry into the big time.

I caught him a few months back on his European tour, playing this set out for the first time. While he’s always been a confident and charismatic performer, he really shone that evening. Whether it was through the knowledge that he had some killer songs on his hands, the overwhelming reaction from the audience, the thrill of playing with a tight band or the simple joy of performing, he was incandescent that evening. And that feeling flows through No Beginning No End. Just like his live band, his collaborators here give him the space to lace tracks with his swag and style, and just like that evening, James knows when to step up to caress your ears and when to step back and let the music sing for him.

Songs like “Come To My Door” and “Trouble” should dominate playlists this year, while less immediate tracks like “Sword & Gun”; “Vanguard” and “Bird of Space” demand closer and extended listening. No Beginning No End is precisely the progressive black music he was talking about in his manifesto, a mix of soul, jazz, hip hop, afrobeat and more that James stamps with his own flavour. He’s always known where he wants to go, and this is the album that should take him there. Back in 2010 he told us that “I don’t see enough of what I’m into represented in mainstream culture, and I would like to.” 2013 should be the year that all changes for him.

- Will Georgi

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An album non short of the proverbial lore of unhinged aggression and berserk ferocity, the Jedi Mind Tricks rapper follows up his highly acclaimed solo debut, Return of the Assassin, with a gritty sophomore effort that takes “hard-body” to the next level – or two, or three.  And just seeing the likes of Kool G. Rap, Immortal Technique, Scarface, DJ Premier, Mobb Deep, Tragedy Khadafi, R.A. the Rugged Man, DJ Lethal, and Psycho Les on the album’s tracklist is enough to give certain hip-hoppers wet dreams.  For the listener wanting nothing more than gutter beats and aggressive rhymes, GOTS is your album.

Unlike Season of the Assassin where the overall sound was diverse, this release features a more focused tonal aspect that gives it more of a sinister edge across the board.  The rawness of this record is ideal for back alley mugging; or better, plane crashes and severing bodies.  The intro, “Shadow of the Guillotine,” begins with a monologue referencing the Book of 2 Chronicles:  “My father chastised you with whips, I shall use scorpions.”  Paz’s beat selections are perfect; as they all fit his raspy, but belligerently ferocious, style of delivery.

“They tend to stop me at every level and stress me and send me devils / I press ‘em like Chevy pedals and shred ‘em like heavy metal…”

“Slum Chemist” begins with a crazed sound bite from the film Monster in which a serial killer attempts to explain her sick logic that allows her to murder.  A charming violin terrorizes the song’s backdrop amongst hard-hitting snare hits and a diabolical Paz voice proclaiming, “You should never **** with the monster / You crash like La La La Bamba.”  The DJ Premier-produced, “The Oracle,” is a synth-heavy highlight that Box-cutter Pazzi absolutely shines on.  This track is the classic “I’m the realest, and let me tell you why I am and why you’re not” standard:  “He the mother****** always sippin’ goose n’ shit / Stomp a rapper out, Timberland boots and s***…”

“Last Breath” sounds like a lost track from SOTS, and sonically doesn’t really fit the album’s tone – not to mention, the song’s horrid chorus.  The immense standout, “Crime Library,” is on some instant underground classic status.  The Philadelphia-bred rapper’s performance is flawless here, and Marco Polo’s production is exceptional and memorable – to say the least.  And such momentous attributes can be applied to the proceeding Mobb Deep collaboration, “Duel to the Death.”  Backed by tremendous and suspense-like production, this is classic Mobb Deep.

The Scarface featured, “Problem Solver,” and the Immortal Technique collaboration, “And Your Blood Will Blot Out the Sun,” are two cuts that have all the makings of greatness on paper, however, each lacks qualities that the best tracks from this release possess.   The former is a decent song, but Poison Pen’s chorus may ruin the experience for most, and the latter features a nice verse from Scarface, but the song’s lackluster production and another terrible hook may just be enough to overshadow the good.  However, these moments don’t last too long as Paz’s super-group, The Army of the Pharaohs, makes a welcomed appearance on the very next track, and high point, “Battle Hymn.”  There isn’t a weak track (not including the bonus track, “Kingdom Crusher”) from this point on, seriously.  The apocalyptic sounding “Geometry of Business” is among GOTS’s best, as is the refreshingly semi-biographical “Jake LaMotta.”  This track is Sesame Street compared to the rest.

“I Mike Tys(on) verse, big lord, I’m dying to fight / I drink, drugs, smoke, alcohol, my mind isn’t right / Eternal Sunshine of the Spot. I’m just minding my site / I knock buildings over like I was Osama on flights / I would dream about Jordans, I would die for the Nikes / We ain’t had the money, but my mother buy me the Nikes…”

Tragedy Khadafi makes a grand appearance on the standout, “7 Fires of Prophecy.”  Both Paz and Tragedy rip this percussive beat into unbelievable shreds leaving the listener with a vivid impression of how good these two can be over the right beat.

“Flow is tsunami, bulletproof Bugatti / Arab, Nazi spraying a semi out a Ferrari / Crash Maybach Music, smash Aston Martins / Cops turned rappers, y’all n***** is targets…”

The depressing self-assessment of “Cheesesteaks” helps to create one of the effort’s darkest tracks, while the symphonic and epic “Cold, Dark And Empty” fits effortlessly into the sequence right after, as does the intense R.A. The Rugged Man feature that follows; “Razor Gloves.”  All four cuts are instant peaks.

Closing out this excursion of unapologetic and ruthless aggression is the rather conscious, “You Can’t Be Neutral On a Moving Train.”  On the closer, Paz explores the savage politics and history of racism, sexism, government tyranny, and colonialism of the West.

The time goes by rather quickly as GOTS comes to it’s end before the listener knows it.  There are nineteen tracks in all (including one bonus track), and of the nineteen tracks presented; only five are without guest features.  This attribute would doom a lot of albums, but this just isn’t the case with GOTS, as most of the rappers/MCs featured present quality and actually fit the song that they’re on.  This album is a violent frenzy maxed out to the “nth” power, so it may not be for everyone; however, most who embrace hardcore hip-hop will undoubtedly love this album.

-Julius Thompson

The post Vinnie Paz appeared first on Okayplayer.

Never shying away from touchy subjects (religion, social inequality, politics), XO finds a way to speak on real life problems and still put it all under an umbrella big enough for all types of listeners to find shelter (see “Spread Love,” “Soul Value”).  “Finding My Way” is an autobiographical recounting of the struggles XO has had to endure; having to re-locate as a child, disengaging from school, alcohol use and abuse. While this narrative may sound hackneyed or played-out in the rap world, XO again manages to present it in a way that is simultaneously personal and relateable.

A.B. the Pro’s production is unremarkable at some of the album’s low points, or at least it’s not the focal point, due in part to an over-reliance on the formulaic; dark strings-and-piano beats that wouldn’t sound out of place on an Eminem record, or samples whose sample-worthiness is questionable. That being said, Colour de Grey is not without its moments that hit the mark dead on. “Salaam” is one such moment, turning the head-nod switch up a few notches with a stuttering vocal sample and swirling synth tones. “If I Should Die” sees XO dancing over a soulful, horn-driven 6/8 beat that feels challenging yet comfortable.

Following in the tradition of a long line of truth-speaking, introspective MCs before him,  Uptown XO’s LP adds another perspective into the mix, albeit a refreshing one that deserves to be heard.

-Dylan Grier

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The point of the album was to reinterpret the doo-wop songs of Neville’s childhood. A trip down memory lane. And honestly, the songs sound good. He sings them just like the originals, with all the pop and swing that turned the sock-hops out back in black and white America. For instance, Thurston Harris’ classic “Little Bitty Pretty Ones” is covered by Neville in the same tempo and with, for the most part, the same music. The only difference is the voice. The same goes for The Drifters’ “Under the Boardwalk” and “This Magic Moment.” The only notable variations is that Ben E. King’s voice is smooth, and Aaron Neville’s is more of the über-vibrato vocal styling he’s become famous for. That doesn’t mean that that makes Neville’s remakes bad. If anything, there isn’t enough difference in the new renditions of these oldies.

My True Story is Aaron Neville paying tribute to his heroes, singing down memory lane, and for that I applaud him for this personal milestone. But as an album, there is nothing Aaron Neville is offering in these remakes that would make anyone want to listen to his versions instead of the originals. Therefore the album falls flat, and comes across as a well executed, but arbitrary project, from a legend.

-Jason Reynolds

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It is out the that tradition that The Ghetto Brothers delivered Power Fuerza  in 1972, mixing and matching Latin grooves, funk rhythms, rock riffs and pop melodies into a sound every bit as progressive, dynamic and downright infectious as the city that the founding members the Melendez Brothers and their musical cohorts called home. Having run the streets of the South Bronx first as bangers, then as reformers, the brothers were intimately familiar with the tensions – ethnic, economic and geographic, that threatened to erupt. But they were equally connected to the strong families and communities which provided solace. Sonically, Power Fuerza pulls flavors from each of the melting pot’s distinct ingredients, while lyrically the Brothers savor the universal seasonings of life.

“Girl from the Mountain” is an airy pop confection, made perhaps just a little too ethnic for Top 40 radio by the ebullient bounce of congas and timbales, and a touch too psychedelic for soulpower hour sets thanks to the unbridled guitar solo that explodes out of the bridge. “There is Something in My Heart” puts the band’s Beatles influence on prominent display, with an infectious melody propelling earnestly rendered pleas of puppy love. Yet, the funky drumming behind the harmonies serves as an ass-shaking reminder that when the British invasion hit the hood, the hood fought back. The Motown sound also gets a barrio makeover, with the kinetic “Got This Happy Feeling” answering the question of what would happen had Little Stevie Wonder teamed with a burgeoning Carlos Santana in the late ‘60s. Power Fuerza rarely pauses to catch a breath, but when it does, Victor Melendez takes full advantage, flexing his song writing muscles on the blue light burner, “I Saw a Tear,” which threads the needle between doo-wop precision and quite storm passion.

Newly released by Truth and Soul Records, this deluxe edition doesn’t offer anything in the way of unearthed rarities or alternate takes, which would have been a watershed for fans, given that despite years of touring, the band never released another proper album. The release does include an 80-page booklet, detailing the history of the group and the culture of street crime and revolution that it grew out of. The story underscores that what these brothers took out of their ghetto surroundings and spread through their music was life and love; a stark contrast to many of the inner city sounds that followed.

Despite great success in New York City, The Ghetto Brothers never broke beyond cult status on a national level. Perhaps, now, in the internet era, where virtual neighborhoods span contents, their NYC steeped soul will finally resonate outside the borders of the city of dreams.

-Jeff Harvey

The post Ghetto Brothers appeared first on Okayplayer.

Besides, what more can be said about songs like “Lean on Me”; “Ain’t No Sunshine” and “Lovely Day”? They’ve become so entrenched in modern culture that they overshadow everything else Withers wrote, even the man himself is dwarfed by their ubiquity. Yet Withers remains as admired by musicians as fans, a man whose songs sit as comfortably on a tea advert as a Questlove mixtape.

That’s always been his greatest talent, to sing tales of love, loss and struggle that cross divides and millions of people in and outside of America can relate to. But you already knew that. What you might not know about Bill Withers you’ll surely find across these nine albums, a collection that grants his music the attention that neither a single, a greatest hits album or a short record review can give him.

So rather than dismiss each album in a sentence, I’ll concentrate on the record that best encapsulates his magic: his live album at Carnegie Hall. It features the choice cuts from his first two albums – Just As I Am, Still Bill - given extended, funkier, more powerful workouts, which refute once for all the suggestion that Withers is too smooth. However, the most remarkable thing about the album isn’t the songs, nor the ridiculously tight band, but the audience participation: the passion of the singing, the way the crowd goes mental at the opening grooves of “Use Me,” the sheer volume of the handclaps, the humble thanks from Withers to the crowd for coming out in the rain and the shrieks when the crowd can simply contain their joy no longer, all capture the magic of what it must have been like to see the man at the peak of his powers connecting with his public.

Bill Withers was – and is – a man of the people. His songs–about heartbreak, war, his grandmother or his city–resonate deeply with people. They did back in New York in 1972 and they will wherever you are in 2013. This definitive collection represents an opportunity to discover and investigate this wonderful musician in the depth he deserves.

- Will Georgi

The post Bill Withers appeared first on Okayplayer.

Enough about the past, though, because this album presses forward and explores new terrain. With collaborations on nearly every track, Big Boi molds his music around the influences of his cohorts. Phantogram and Little Dragon lend instrumentation and their talented vocalists to hooks that blend rap with pop. Vicious Lies and Dangerous Rumors has a much more electronic feel to it, with a plethora of synthesizers. The brassy street thump of past Big Boi releases is still present, it’s just more centralized.

“In the A (ft Ludacris & T.I.)” serves as an example of why Big Boi is credited with bringing the “hood” edge to Outkast.
In stark contrast is the preceding song “Objectum Sexuality” which features indie outfit Phantogram. The beat the duo produced successfully blends a bassy low-bit synth, heavy drums and chopped vocals. Lyrically, Big Boi weaves together a comedic web of random sexual encounters.

“When she with me, she feel free, like her days off /Balls in her hand, but that bitch don’t ever say cough /’Less we playin’ doctor/ With no stethoscope, just heels and those knockers, yeah”

The highlight of the track is lead singer Sarah Barthel’s angelic vocals. The juxtaposingly introspective hook which she sings effortlessly showcases the depth of the album. As she states “It’s all you want these days cause you feel nothing inside. You know there’s nothing wrong, but you’ve been wondering why.” to which Big Boi replies “Because “see time and time again I gotta turn back around and tell ‘em / my cerebellum, get way more deeper than these other fellas.”

While I’m sure Big Boi will be accussed of having too many guest spots on the record, it’s the addition of Phantogram, Wavves and Little Dragon that gives it a feel different from previous Dungeon Family releases. Indeed, it’s what sets it apart from most of the hip-hop releases this year. Like Phantogram, Little Dragon lends a huge supporting role with both production and the talents of their lovely female singer. Interestingly enough, the Swedish band were originally involved in the lively “Mama Told Me So.” Due to label issues, they were begrudgingly replaced by Kelly Rowland. Luckily the original still exists and was leaked by the man himself. He even performed the track with Little Dragon on Late Night with Jimmy Kimmel. Of the band’s three “official” features, the most striking is the appropriately titled “Descending.” The 63 BPM outro softly puts a cap on the record. The melodic guitar and layered synth effects are paired with the honey-voiced Yukimi Nagano’s crooning. A deep bass drum, slow shaker and delightfully EQed snare/clap keep time to Nagano’s dreamy “If you don’t know me by now.” Big Boi enters stage left at the climax of the track and puts a fitting summation to the record, “If ya’ll don’t know me by now, ain’t never gonna know me.”

-Nick McClure

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Taking a page from her own book, The Floacist, treats listeners to soulful good times, lush production and sensuous, thought provoking lyrics. Reaching back she covers Floetry’s “Say Yes,” duets with Raheem Devaughn on “Start Again” (built on Marvin Gaye’s “I Want You”) and keeps the mood romantic on both “This Love” and “Slow Down”.

Her key strength has always been spoken word, which never comes across as contrived or out of place in today’s landscape. She effectively uses this medium to deliver her message whether it’s spiritual, romantic or socially conscious without preaching; without the expected pretensions that tend to turn off listeners.

Fans of The Floacist will be happy with this album on quality and general principal. While it’s billed as a Floetry album it doesn’t feel the same without Marsha, which is not to discount the vocal styling’s of Julie Dexter. It just goes down better hearing it as a solo effort by The Floacist.

For the curious this has soul, hip-hop and new world elements in addition to Natalie’s passionate delivery. Good album.

-Enyi Emesih

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