Res - How I Do

MCA Records: 2001

Another 'out of my element' donation. I've a few of these in the pipeline but that's alright. Some of these artists, I sense they deserve whatever extra shine my little backwater blog can offer. Res wasn't an utter unknown, mind you, something of a staple in the Philly scene since the late '90s, even if she never quite got the same attention as oh-so many others from the region. She actually got her first break providing the chorus on the titular track on GZA's Beneath The Surface, which was enough to at least get the attention of another up-and-comer, producer Martin McKinney.

You've definitely heard his stuff, working with the likes of Drake, John Legend, and The Weeknd, including Starboy, in case you care. Yes, that track, with Daft Punk. Oh, the 'electronic music' connection goes even deeper. Well, maybe not that deep, but I do find it interesting that the lead single for Res' album featured a bunch of clubby remixes from Robbie Rivera, Guiseppe D, Bastone & Burnz, and DJ Encore. Ah, hm, Hed Kandi house and proggy anthems, for a Philly soul singer? Methinks something got twisted in the marketing of this album, which may explain why it did only marginal business for itself.

Honestly though, it could just be the dumb luck of timing, How I Do released when the urban scene was stacked for options. Hell, she was basically going against Destiny's Child's Survivor, Missy Elliot's Miss E... and Alicia Keys' Songs In A Minor. Good luck with that, yo'. No, this album was practically per-ordained to be a slow burner, one rediscovered after the fact, unearthed by connoisseurs of neo-soul a decade or two down the line. Maybe even get enough ground support for a vinyl reissue within our current year. Again, dumb luck of timing.

To my ears, Ms. Ballard has a similar street-soul swagger to her sound reminiscent of Lauren Hill, though as usual, I'm more interested in the musical side of these releases than the actual singing. Opener Golden Boys features grand string sections with a brisk breaks rhythm, while They Say Vision (the original!) goes more loopy with its backing instrumentation, which I guess makes sense why it got all those house remixes. 700 Mile Situation, The Hustler, and I've Known The Garden get real deep in the funky vibes. Ice King gets forlorn. Sittin' Back wouldn't sound out of place cranked from the subs of a lowrider. Let Love almost treads near trip-hop's domain with out-of-tune backing synths – must be that Cure influence. And secret song Say It Anyway (yes, it has one of those) 'rawks' out.

A decent amount of variety, then, though never really pushing any boundaries either. If anything, How I Do sounds like an offshoot of that really famous conglomerate out of Philly, The Roots. Mostly traditionalist, but has enough spunk to stick out for the time it plays. Jeez, Roots and Hill as my obligatory namedrops? What more do you need?

Justin Timberlake - FutureSex/LoveSounds

Jive: 2006

I assume the request for this album is for more insight into Timbaland productions than ol' Justin here. I'm all for that. Mr. Mosley may occupy a genre lane that I seldom dwell myself, but I cannot deny how influential he was for so many decades. Nor can I deny that, when I did hear some crossover R&B hit, the ones that caught my attention and, dare I say, even liked, had a Timbaland co-sign on it. Yes, going all the way back to Ginuwine's Pony.

If you want my thoughts on Mr. Timberlake, as always I'll point to a Todd In The Shadow video, specifically his Trainwreckords dismantling of Man Of The Woods. Most of my over-arching sentiments are covered there, but here's an additional wrinkle. Even at the height of his popularity, I couldn't help but feel Justin was something of a Great White Hope for the R&B sector. So many American folks wanted him to succeed because they were so desperate for someone like him to succeed. There were plenty of pretty boys mugging in music videos before him, but they were often black or Latin or weirdly European or packaged with a pile of other pretty boys. Finally here was someone who not only freed himself from post Boy Band failure, but excelled in a field few of his ilk had dared to tread. Again, that Timbaland co-sign went a long, long way in the '00s.

FutureSex/Lovesounds is Justin at his peak, and it's arguable this is Timbaland at his peak too. Mr. Mosley's greatest strength was taking contemporary sounds and getting maximal punch from them with minimalist space, and you hear that in spades. Electro house one of the current hot trends? Make the lead single something of a riff on that, SexyBack not only crushing the Top 40 clubs, but even finding its way into the sleazy underground too (seriously, I knew DJs more prone to rinsing out DFA or Ed Banger records having this in their crates).

Funk was seeing a mini-resurgence thanks to Prince's return to Warner Records, and you can definitely hear his influence on many tracks, such that a micro-feud emerged between them. Yeah, sexy never really left, but its undeniable this album helped bring its funky potential back to the forefront after crunk's dominance. Oh, there's a crunk on here, because of course there would be, Three 6 Mafia doing the guest spot.

The things Justin sings about? Well, it's right there in the title, right? Half the tunes are about picking up girls at the clubs and whatnot, the other about bitter breakups. How these land for you probably depends entirely on how you view Mr. Timberlake's cache of pop world good will, which has significantly dwindled in recent years, no doubt. Still, when some of those operatic moments hit, like in What Goes Around... Hard not to get swept in all the melodrama that made FutureSex/LoveSounds one of that year's biggest albums.

Utada - Exodus

Island Records: 2004

I covered the two Japanese albums that bookend Utada's first foray into American markets, so why not the actual project as well? Even if I don't have the greatest familiarity with her general work, the story behind Exodus is worth at least a couple paragraphs of discourse, right? Sure, which I honestly kinda' covered in those previous reviews of Deep River and Ultra Blue. What else is there left for me to say? Well, what kind of music is actually on the record, so there's that.

Still, a little refresher is in order. Sensing an international starlet on his roster, Island Records CEO Lyon Cohen signed Hikaru to his label for an American-made album. Two problems though: one, J-pop never had any appeal in America, so Hikaru would have to change her style some to accommodate a different audience. Okay, that's not a huge deal, Deep River showing some Western R&B influences anyway, so the transition could be easy. Just assign some top-tier producers to the project to guide her on her way and what do you mean she's gonna' do all the music herself? That's not how things are done in America, yo'! Okay, if you have a ton of industry clout, sure, but someone making their debut in a new land? What do you think you are, big in Japan?

Even more so, I sense that, in having a fresh audience, Hikaru saw it as an opportunity to break free of conventional pop song-writing her first run of albums had. Push boundaries, get a little experimental, explore other facets of genres. This isn't just speculation, some songs on Exodus explicitly detailing how she wants to crossover styles of music, creating a melting pot and all that. Or those lyrics are just clumsy metaphors for sex, mixing 'gene pools' and all. Considering some of the other lyrics on here, maybe so.

I've mentioned in the past my primary hurdle in getting into all these Japanese artists remains the language barrier, but as this is a totally English record, that shouldn't be the case. Thing is, I can't help but get a twinge of cringe over lines like “You're easy breezy / And I'm Japaneezy”, or constantly referring to American guys she hooks up with in clubs as cowboys (this is the last kind of music you'll hear rancher dudes listening to, much less hanging out at urban clubs). Being a sultry seductress hunting on the town really isn't a lane Utada meshes comfortably with, and no amount of Timbaland production can hide that.

Okay, he really only produces a couple tunes, Exodus '04 and Let Me Give Your Love, and they're honestly some of the better cuts on here. Tracks like Tippy Toe and The Workout show some influence from him, if not direct input. There's a fair bit of interesting production on here, even if it doesn't all land. Which it apparently didn't, at least enough to get much attention in America. Still did gang-busters in Japan, because of course it would.

Jessy Lanza - All The Time

Hyperdub: 2020

While I'm far from a Hyperdub disciple, they are a label I confidently return to whenever I'm interested in hearing something outside my comfort zone. And anytime Burial so much as sneezes, it's enough to get the Hyperdub, erm, hype-train going again, such that I'll gander over to their Bandcamp for a look-see. I must have been feeling particularly saucy on my last visit, indulging in a couple items so far off my usual lane, I may as well have completely changed highways, one of which being this here All The Time from Jessy Lanza.

I've crossed paths with Ms. Lanza before, as she had a few tunes on that Hyperdub 10th anniversary box-set I covered a few years back. More specifically, she featured in Hyperdub 10.2 - aka: the R&B CD. She apparently failed to make enough of an impression for me to mention her in that write-up, but to be fair, she was surrounded by the likes of Burial, Cooly G, and Ghostface Killah in that track list. I did generally like her tunes, just there were so many other dope cuts that were quicker in catching my ear, is all. Not so when I last browsed through Hyperdub's latest clutch of releases, Jessy's sweet croon instantly luring me in for a closer listen. Or maybe it was just that simple, syrupy funk rhythm in Lick In Heaven doing the trick. Could be, could be.

I guess I should get into who Jessy Lanza is. I wish I had more to say than what a standard wiki or Discoggian bio offers, but I don't. I'm diving into this artist about as fresh and raw as can be, which is part of the fun in of itself. Can't grow old and stale settling on the familiar, gotta' get out there and hear other music and newer musicians. Even if said musician has been in the game for over a decade now, it's still new to me, dammit! If you need some background, here's the short-short version: classically trained, took a liking to jazz and R&B, gained plenty of plaudits in the nascent neo-soul movement of the 2010s, fusing her influences with UK garage and synth-pop sensibilities.

And that's basically what we have with All The Time. Music arrangements are mostly sparse, letting the bass bubble about simple electro and footwork rhythms. Jessy uses plenty of multi-tracking on her voice with various pitch changes and dub effects. It's nothing fancy on the surface, but has plenty of depth the more you peel back the layers. It all rather sounds as though she's performing solo at a club that's just emptied out after last call, a strangely isolated vibe for such seemingly chipper music. Which makes some sense as part of this album was written during pandemic lock-downs, Jessy moving cross-continent due to life circumstances. Those are some very lonely roads throughout the mid-west at the best of times. Can only imagine how desolate it got when most folks weren't vacationing.

Bob Marley - Chant Down Babylon

Island Def Jam Music Group: 1999

Posthumous albums from an artist's archives certainly were nothing new, but as Bob Marley's passing was almost two decades old by this point, I'm sure everything from his catalogue had been thoroughly unearthed. Heck, even the Remix Album had been done (thanks, Bill Laswell!), so what other avenue could be explored in further capitalizing on Marley's music? Like, it's such a shame he died so long ago, before he might have had a chance to collaborate with artists inspired by his words and works. If only we had the will, the ability, the technology, to make such a thing possible. Sadly, time travelling and necromancy remain elusive. Eh, there's another way, with studio recordings? What sorcery is this?

I can't remember if this was much of a thing yet – the 'duet' albums featuring 2Pac and Biggie certainly hadn't hit the market yet – but nor do I want to claim this was the first. I also can't recall if there was any controversy surrounding this, if cries of 'desecrating the dead' or whatever floated about. For sure those responsible for producing Chant Down Babylon did so with the Marley estate's blessing, sons Stephen and Damian on hand in the studio. While they may not have as big a profile as brother Ziggy, they still remain a prominent fixture in the reggae family's legacy. The project was in good hands, in other words, no scummy cash-grab vibes going on.

Intentions were positive then, but might the merging of classic reggae singing and (then) modern hip-hop still not work, Bob's voice merely tacked on while others got the spotlight? Considering I still have this CD, and quite often play it when I'm in the mood for some smooth Marely jams with a hip-hop edge, I'd say Chant Down Babylon pulled it off quite well indeed. Yeah, it's still mighty difficult ignoring the critical part of your brain reminding you that Bob isn't really singing in the studio with the likes of Eryakah Badu and Lauryn Hill, but boy they sure sound good together regardless.

Honestly, the only times things sound a little forced is when there's a rap involved. Marley will come in, singing a classic like Concrete Jungle or Survival with some beefier beats, then suddenly, here's Rakim or Chuck D dropping a few bars in support. It's not a deal breaker or anything, and some of these pairings are damn good (MC Lyte on Jammin'; Krayzie Bone on Rebel Music, though undoubtedly helped by his sing-rap style). Others though, don't work quite as well. Busta Rhymes in particular sounds strangely out of place, and having Aerosmith leads Steven Tyler and Joe Perry on this project is a real head-scratcher.

In the end though, Chant Down Babylon remains Bob Marley's show. Hearing him crooning along side Guru or The Roots on strong reggae-hop beats is just a tasty treat. Stick with the originals if you must, but this record is a worthy companion piece to his legacy.

Utada Hikaru - Ultra Blue

Eastworld: 2006

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

Now that I've gotten the boggles out of my mind regarding the juggernaut of a commercial success that is Utada Hikaru's music career, I can do a deeper dive into one of her albums. Eh, I left out her attempts at breaking through in America? For sure there was an attempt, almost immediately after the release of Deep Blue in fact. How could her brand not want to replicate that fame on this side of the Pacific? Surely folks in the U.S. of A. would look past her ethnic origins and appreciate the music- BWAHAAHAHA!!! Oh man, I couldn't even finish it! They certainly did all they could trying though, what with Island Def Jam getting Timbaland at the producer's console. I suppose Exodus debuting at 160 on the Billboard was okay for a mostly unknown foreign talent but yeah, small wonder she returned to Japan after this. For a 'foreign produced' record though, album did gangbusters in her native land. Obviously it did.

Ultra Blue is the Japanese album Hikaru released in the wake of her American expenditure, and boy are the English influences ever still present, a track list almost entirely in that language. In fact, of the twelve songs, only three use kanji. Another three do that funny Japanese thing where they capitalize the whole title (BLUE, COLORS, WINGS), as though they're so hype for the song, they just gotta' shout it at the top of their lungs. But yeah, the rest are all conventional English titles: Be My Last, One Night Magic, Keep Tryin', This Is Love, Making Love. Oh, and this CD is 'thicc', yo', one of the fattest jewel cases I've ever held. Nothing but the most luxurious booklet paper for Utada Hikaru!

There's also more English in the songs themselves, though mostly in the choruses, Hikaru often flipping between languages even mid-line. I remain dumb-founded that folks, of any ethnicity, can pull that off (work with some carrying conversations fluently flipping from English to Punjabi). Judging by the titles though, most of the lyrics deal with the usual love topics R&B and pop settle on, and as my Japanese remains pathetically weak, I've no clue how deep or profound Hikaru's words are. She's certainly emotive enough to carry a tune though.

And yet, Ultra Blue was apparently one of her weakest selling albums, with a slightly more electronic tinge to the music not quite vibing with her massive audience. Which is weird to me because this all sounds like the same super-slick polished pop cribbing contemporary influences I've heard from mainstream markets for decades. A little Latin in One Night Magic, a little trip-hop in 海路, a little... UK urban in COLORS? Okay, maybe not as indebted to American R&B as her earlier output, but not so blatantly Japanese as I expect of most j-pop either. Was it simply not enough of either? Well, if there's anything I wouldn't call Ultra Blue, it's vanilla. Now rose, there's a flavour that's apt.

Utada Hikaru - Deep River

Eastworld: 2002

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

Upon receiving this album, I couldn't help but do a double-take. Was I certain this was a j-pop album? It looks nothing like the preconceived cliches of the genre my Western eyes have been inundated with. In fact, aside from the artist name and kanji on the back, I'd have easily thought it an American R&B release, not that dissimilar to a traditional Mariah Carey or Beyoncé cover. Throwing it on for a listen, the American influences are even more prevalent – were it not for the different language, this wouldn't have been out of place in any Western R&B chart. And with American artists cribbing from 'ethnic' cultures as it was (s'up, bhangra), turnabout is fair play. Did make me wonder if Utada Hikaru might have had any success over here if she tried a crossover album.

Then I did the post-listen research and discovered, shit, she don't need success over here in the slightest. For Utada Hikaru is huge in Japan. Like, Mariah and Beyoncé huge! Like, owner of some of the country's top selling albums ever, absolutely trouncing her nearest chart competitors. Her first album First Love crushed it at 7.6 million copies sold there – by comparison, Michael Jackson's Thriller, the agreed upon most successful global record ever, sold only 2.8 million in Japan.

Yet, despite her monumental success in her homeland, she's nary a presence over here, a lone soundtrack appearance on the Jackie Chan/Chris Tucker movie Rush Hour 2 her closest brush with success in America. There's also frequent contributions to the Kingdom Hearts games (including the closing song 光 from here), but that's a comparatively niche audience. Yes, I know, entirely different cultures and all, but again, the music she's making here isn't that different compared to American R&B, her cadence easily on par with the divas of the U.S. Just use the ol' Shakira Strategy: record an English version, get a major label backing it (EMI handled distribution in other South Asian markets at the time, though she's since signed with Sony, so maybe a re-issue?), and see what may come.

I'm sorry I'm dwelling on this so much, but it honestly and truly boggles my mind that someone could be so successful in one country, and not here. It's not even like her music is too culturally dense to work elsewhere. It'd be like if Shania Twain or Celine Dion never broke out of Canada because they name-drop Montreal and maple trees (true, not so evocative as Tokyo and sakura trees).

Also, I honestly don't have that much to say about Deep River. As mentioned, this is an R&B-styled record, a genre I only have passing interest in, and where vocal presentation is first and foremost. Ms. Utada definitely has the pipes, such that I do hang on her words even if I don't know what they specifically mean. Translations reveal they're mostly about relationships and empowerment – standard R&B tropes – but that only takes me so far.

Various - Hyperdub 10.2

Hyperdub: 2014

Look, I get all that post-dub-juke-bash-grim-skee-ap stuff is what folks hip to every tiny permutation of UK garage were digging. I mean, it must have been a significant development if Hypderdub was gonna' dedicated a double-CD opening salvo to it. And while there were enough tracks among those thirty-plus that a few got my attention or had my head twitchin' for a mild nod, much of it just passed me by as same ol', same ol', no matter who was chopping and screwing with the hi-hats and snares. It's music that makes better sense when out at a shitty London venue or abandoned Chicago warehouse, where the ketamine is floating through the air like particulates of ashen snow. That is what all those early dubstep parties were like, right? I wouldn't know, I never went to any, not even in British Columbia when the likes of Skream and Rusko were becoming big names here.

Just because it wasn't to my taste doesn't mean it was to no one's taste, and it was popular enough that many indie rags were forced to dedicate detailed write-ups about why this new 'yoot' movement was Very Important to UK's underground dance scene. It's not what attracted me to Hyperdub though, so if the review of Hyperdub 10.1 seems lacking, well, that's your reason. Now, let's move onto the stuff I'm more interested in: the dubby funk 'n soul music of Hyperdub 10.2!

That's right, the post-clubbing, depressive soul of Burial, or the urban grit soul of King Midas Sound, where R&B is taken through the UK underground wringer of lonely nights spent at coffee shops and fish friars before returning to squalid flats barely paid for by a dwindling dole, the unmistakable croon of a lovely lady still echoing in your ears over a cheap, choppy beat. Something like that, I think.

That's the vibe I get from these tracks. Burial's Shell Of Light, DVA's Solid with Zaki Ibrahim and Metrodome, Terror Danjah's You Make Me Feel with Meleka, Fhloston Paradigm's Never Defeated with Rachel Claudio, Morgan Zarate's Sticks & Stones with Eska and Ghostface Killah. Wait, Ghostface is here? Man, them UK grime dudes sure do love 'em some Ghostface. Don't blame 'em, Tony Stark basically bullet-proof no matter where he ends up (UK garage, Eastcoast rap, horrorcore stories, 30 Rock cameos).

And it's weird, because normally I'm not that hype to R&B either. I appreciate its influence and its contributions and all that rot, but generally speaking, I get my musical soul-food from other sources. This Hyperdub stuff though, it hits me at just the right angle, just gritty and askew enough, where the cheap, scattershot production keeps it leagues away from the slick polish of the industrious mainstream material. It's rhythm and blues as the terms should be interpreted, with bare beats and human murk. Still, it's not like I'm actively seeking such music either, Hyperdub 10.2 sating most of that itch until the next King Midas Sound record comes out.

Various - Sounds Of The Seventies: The Late '70s

Time Life Music: 1993

This was volume thirty-four out of a series of thirty-seven, and don't this come off like the crusty teat of a withered cow. Sounds Of The Seventies had already given the late '70s ample representation with two rounds of yearly spotlights. Following that, titles such as Seventies Top Forty, Guitar Power, Dance Fever, Punk & New Wave, plus several featured looks into FM Rock and AM Pop rounded up the stragglers, plus three more CDs of AM Nuggets after this. No other compilation in this series highlighted such nebulous ideas like “early '70s” or “mid-'70s”. What gives?

Time Life Music gives their reasoning as thus: “The late '70s was a schizophrenic time for pop music.” Basically, this CD is intended to showcase the myriad genres hitting the airwaves, much of which had little to do with each other. When your opening three songs include Donna Summer's true-disco hit Last Dance, The Village People's camp-disco hit In The Navy, and Boston's silly rock anthem More Than A Feeling, it does impart a sense that things were going a little kooky towards the end of that decade. America, if you thought that was weird, you should have heard the synthy sounds emanating from Europe and Asia too!

Seriously though, there are some interesting contrasts on this CD. The theme to Happy Days is on here, and that's followed by the MTV defining Video Killed The Radio Star from The Buggles, which I always assumed was a 1980 tune because of MTV. Nope, 1979 was when it was released, a technicality but still fits with a Late '70s theme. Punk gets a look-in by way of Blondie's Dreaming, which is followed upon by the... country soft rock (?) of Dave Mason's We Just Disagree. The sultry side of funk-n-soul gets repped by Marvin Gaye's I Want You and The Manhattans' Kiss And Say Goodbye, and rockier outings from John Stewart's Gold, Andrew Gold's Lonely Boy, and Bob Welch's Ebony Eyes show up. Um, yeah, most of the kick-ass rock tunes were already used up in prior Sounds Of The Seventies CDs.

That's one thing I'll give some props to this series though, always featuring fresh tunes with each volume. I sifted through each one, and didn't spot a single repeat, a remarkable feat considering not one instance of Neil Young showing up (da'fuq!??), not to mention nearly no synth music included – Hot Butter's Popcorn did show up though, because how could it not? I suppose there's a couple examples of synth on this CD too, like The Buggles, and the Moog solo on Alan O'Day's Undercover Angel. And let's not forget Minnie Riperton's Lovin' You! While that tune's about as un-electronic as it gets, it found a new generation of interest after The Orb sampled it in their breakout A Huge Ever Growing Pulsating Brain That you know the rest of it. So in true 'begging-chosing' fashion, rave music finally gets its nod in Sounds Of The Seventies.

Various - Pure Energy Volume 5

SPG Music LTD.: 1998

The Pure Energy series was one of the more successful runs of dance pop compilations in Canada, lasting a solid decade before folding after the ninth volume. Considering the Toronto label that promoted them, SPG Music, flooded the market with numerous such CDs, it's remarkable it stood out from the crowd at all. However, unlike long-forgotten series like Euromix, Warehouse Grooves, or Dance To The Underground, Pure Energy had one, key factor working for it: name recognition. For this series had all the big names of euro house and dance pop on its tracklists (plus a bunch of no-name locals), making them the must-have CDs in your shops should the other CDs that had all the big names of euro house and dance pop not be available. I rib, but I won't front either, my (sister's) copy of Pure Energy 2 an early favourite of yours truly. Mr. Vain, More And More, The Rhythm Of The Night, Shoop, Give It Up, Can We Get Enough?, Love Sees No Colour (Version 2)... hot damn, what a tracklist!

Fast forward a few years, and the scene has radically changed, new names and new sounds replacing the tropes of old. Except Culture Beat, they're on this volume again. And Shaggy too, who's got a feature credit on Maxi Priest's That Girl (ooh, yeah, That Girl, now you recall, That damn Girl). Yeah, for some reason, Pure Energy 5 isn't hot up to speed in its selections, some songs nearly three years old by the point this came out. That ain't no way to catch the iron while it's hot, boys, but whatever, it's the actual hits folks want that's important, so what's this CD got?

Spice Girls, Blackstreet featuring Pay-Day Dre, Aqua, Jocelyn Enriquez, “Not-Will-Smith” Space Factor. If I need to tell you which tunes, you sure don't remember 1997 well, do you. Oh, fine. Wannabe, No Diggity, Roses Are Red, A Little Bit Of Ecstasy, Men In Black. Ah, now the ol' memory membranes are firing, I bet.

Listening to Pure Energy 5 is pretty much a nostalgia trip to that year, so many songs generating, “Oh yeah, that one!” reactions when I played it back. Ultra Naté's Free, First Base's Love Is Paradise, Carrilio's Samba de Janeiro (such fiesta!), Amber's This Is Your Night, Tania Evans' Prisoner Of Love (La-Da-Di), Herbie's Right Type Of Mood... even Alexia's Uh La La La!, regrettably. It's honestly astounding how many songs here I'd completely forgotten about, but do recall them being major hits back when. Like, that Maxi Priest jam gave Shaggy his greatest mainstream exposure to that point (1996, for the record), but nowadays, all the radio stations ever play is Angel or It Wasn't Me, That Girl reduced to “Nineties Artifact” status. Poor Maxi Priest.

One last point of amusement before the wrap. The flip of the CD has a giant “DJ Approved” stamp, which is hilarious since this is a continuous mix compilation, rendering them effectively useless for actual DJing purposes.

LL Cool J - Mr. Smith

Def Jam Recordings: 1995

Can't be a proper hip-hop head without a little LL Cool J in my collection. Just a shame it's taken me this long to get some. No, wait, that's not true - I did have a Cool J album before, his G.O.A.T. album when I first got into hip-hop. I liked it enough to nab me a copy, but when it came time for the Great CD Pawning Of 2002 (unemployed ass gotta' pay for ramen noodles somehow), it didn't survive the purge. No great loss by most accounts, and while LL's remained an active name in the world of rap, I haven't been compelled to keep tabs on his music. That doesn't excuse me from skipping on his early classics though, so maybe this will finally get my ass hunting for those albums you're supposed to have, even if you're not a LL Cool J fan.

Actually, I think I've already accomplished this with Mr. Smith ...kind of. While not a critical darling on the same level as Bigger And Deffer or Mama Said Knock You Out, it was a successful commercial turnaround for LL after a weak jump on the gangsta fad of the early '90s. Propped up by Platinum-selling singles that catered to the lucrative R&B crowd, even folks who'd never bothered with his '80s output were buying this album up.

That's damn impressive considering how most rappers from the previous decade were constantly being upstaged by fresher talents. For sure those only after the grittiest, grimiest street tales wouldn't have much use for Mr. Smith, but there's a much wider audience than that in the Urban scene, and Cool J tapped into it perfectly. Hell, I remember Doin' It being quite the hit even in my backwoods region of Canada, if only because as snarky teenagers, we'd do mocking sarcastic renditions of the chorus. Joke's on us though, LL soon appearing on Demographic-Approved soundtracks like Beavis And Butthead Do America and Space Jam.

So the R&B tunes were the big hits (including Boyz II Men collab' Hey Lover, and Loungin with the Puff Daddy-produced duo Total). How's the rest of Mr. Smith, then? Good enough, I suppose – no embarrassing attempts at being thug at least. LL gets in several braggadocios cuts showing off his lyrical skills for 'real hip-hop heads', including Make It Hot, I Shot Ya, No Airplay, Mr. Smith, Get Da Drop On 'Em. He also gets in a couple wordplay cuts, one toying with movie titles (Hollis To Hollywood), another giving props to rap acts over the years (Hip Hop). This one's oddly placed in the album though, second track status when it feels like it should be plugged near the end as a tribute.

Production wise, most tunes are handled by a then-new talent called TrackMasters, who's smooth, Eastcoast style would lead them to producing such prominent names like Nas, Foxy Brown, Noreaga, Method Man, and Will Smith. Eh, I'll take Rashad Smith's dubby style myself. He later got Busta Rhymes.

Neil Young - Blue Note Café

Reprise Records: 2015

While the idea of Neil Young becoming a Chicago bluesman named Shakey Deal, supported by a nine-piece band called The Blue Notes, has some intrigue behind it, I wasn’t itching to hear the results. If anything, the controversy surrounding the project’s lead single, This Note’s For You, was far more fascinating, for the video was initially banned from MTV. Whoa, what hardcore content could have been within that made the supposed edgy music station so worrisome? Potentially pissing off corporate sponsors was all, but considering the video featured a Michael Jackson stand-in catching fire, you can bet the estate that helped build the station’s rep would get a might bit ticked. And yet, This Note’s For You won MTV’s Best Video Award that same year. Irony!

A good ol’ Young controversy is always worth checking out the associated material, but an album of modern blues rock wasn’t the most appealing. For one, studio recordings of the stuff seldom did the genre favors, especially with ‘80s production standards. Plus, this felt a bit of a bandwagon jump, this sort of music gaining traction with lots of rockers of the era. Well fool me on that one, the truth a simpler story. Yeah, big musicians like Eric Clapton and U2 were searching for the ‘roots’ of their music in America, and everyone celebrated Stevie Ray Vaughn’s return to grace, but beyond that? Nay, big band blues revival no more significant in the late ‘80s than before the sound’s resurgence at the start of that decade (re: The Powder Blues). Young’s dalliance with a backing brass band was just that, a spurt of inspiration he was quick to capture, then just as quickly move on once the tour was done. It's why beyond the titular single and maybe Ten Men Workin’, no one remembers much from the resultant album. Most of the tunes were hastily slapped together, basic songs that his band could riff over to their heart’s content – typical Neil Young, then.

Still, it was enough for many ace nights on the tour. A live album was even initially planned, but since the album proper didn’t sell that well, it was shelved, Young moving onto better things (like Rockin’ In the Free World). That didn’t stop a plethora of bootlegs from hitting the market though, especially for the die-hard collector as the tour yielded a bevy of new, unreleased material. Some of it occasionally sprinkled out over the years, including the epic Ordinary People two decades after the fact, but most figured these recordings were forever lost. Praise be unto thee, Archives Project!

Two CDs of various gigs stitched together is overkill, but damn if there isn’t tons of great music within. So many unearthed gems (Don’t Take Your Love Away From Me, Bad News Comes To Town, Doghouse), epic takes on classics (Tonight’s The Night, Crime In The City, Ordinary People), and all the bluesy guitar solos you can handle. A lot of trumpet and saxophone too, if that’s your jam.

Massive Attack - Blue Lines

Virgin: 1991/2012

So Blue Lines, the album that kicked off Tricky’s career. Yeah, sorry for the lame intro, but all the good ones were used in the past two decades. The “Few Records Deserve The ‘Seminal’ Tag, But This One Truly Does” angle; the “Once In A Blue Moon, A New Genre Is Born” take; the “Would Bristol Be Such A Prominent ‘90s Music Hub Without Blue Lines?” thinkpiece; a “If You Listen To Five Man Army Carefully, You Can Hear Subliminal Banksy Messages!” waffle. But man, that Tricky guy, where would he be without Massive Attack? Like, I’m sure he’d have gotten an album or two under his belt regardless, but his work with this group certainly gave him a boost.

Okay, enough malarkey on my part. Let’s talk about this most important record in trip-hop history, despite it barely having any trip-hop in it at all. There’s definitely early aspects of the genre lurking throughout – tracks like Five Man Army, Daydreaming, and One Love feature that slow, hazy mood the genre built its reputation on. This is more a product of Massive Attack incorporating several urban influences into their sound though, which included reggae dub popularized by many a Jamaican expat residing in London. And while Bristol’s music scene was generally their own thing, the dudes behind Massive Attack were more than familiar with what was what in the elsewheres of their country. All that time as part of The Wild Bunch sound system crew provided plenty exposure to various musical movements, leading to the varied genre blending heard throughout Blue Lines. Not just the spliff-heavy hip-hop, but R&B, reggae, funk, and soul find their way inside this tidy nine-tracker of a record, often within the same song. It’s easy to hear why music journalists were creaming their pants over this album, thrilled at hearing so many classy forms of music expertly fused into a groovy whole.

And yet I wonder, was this really that big a deal back in the early ‘90s? Seems every second British album from across the spectrum was doing something radically different in genre fusion. I’ll grant adding dub production to hip-hop beats was unique compared to what America was doing, but this wasn’t exclusive to trip-hop in the slightest: ambient, house, techno, R&B (rock?), all got in on that action too. More often than not, Massive Attack stick to conventional music, sparingly pushing the boundaries into uncharted territory. Be Thankful For What You’ve Got is the sort of UK soul peddled for a few years then. Unfinished Sympathy, the breakout single of the album, has New Jack Swing going for it, though obviously drenched in gospel charm.

Still, if those are about the only nitpicks I can fault Blue Lines for, then this album’s reputation is more than deserved. Considering many ‘dance’ albums from this era are way dated, this one easily stands the test of time, its multitude of influences making it a timeless piece of music.

Various - Now And Then: Music From The Motion Picture

Columbia: 1995

If it wasn’t clear that much of this current backlog was formally owned by a person of the double-X persuasion, this should all but confirm it. Now And Then was a movie fully intended for a female audience, an attempt at Stand By Me for all the mothers and daughters of America. Well, maybe not specifically intended as such by writer I. Marlene King, but it sure was marketed that way. Big mistake that, the movie critically panned for being a rehashed ‘feminist Stand By Me’. Ooh, couldn’t get away with such a derisive critique these days, even if there’s some truth in the matter.

But why shouldn’t there be such a movie? With so few generational, female-led vehicles out there, star Demi Moore felt strongly enough in the project to help fund it herself. If my own mother and sister are anything to go by, it certainly succeeded, Now And Then on constant rotation once the VHS came out. Who cares if the plot was paper thin, the storyline syrupy-sweet, and big-name actresses in Moore, Rosie O’Donnell, Melanie Griffith, and Rita Wilson barely appear - Now And Then was about the memories of times past, growing up in the early ‘70s. A total nostalgia trip for mothers, while bonding with their daughters as they related to the younger cast. And if I’m honest, I didn’t mind putting up with the movie either, what with Thora Birch and Christina Ricci as part of the cast. Don’t deny it, all my ‘90s bros, you did too.

Naturally, the only sort of music that could accompany such a film is the bubblegum pop and chart topping R&B of the era. Rolling Stone magazine and all its spiritual successors may have constantly gone on about the revolution of rock, continuously peddling the narrative of which bands were the Very Important Bands we should honor, respect, and study. All well and good, but it was stuff like The Archies’ Sugar, Sugar that the majority of people were playing on the radio at this time. The scene of the girls riding their bikes singing Tony Orlando’s Knock Three Times? My mum swears her childhood was exactly like that! The Monkees were perfectly willing fill-ins of moptop pop once The Beatles buried themselves in the studio. And hoo, let’s not forget Motown’s complete dominance of this era either: The Jackson 5, Stevie Wonder, Diana Ross, and Freda Payne – all mega-selling names most folks would enjoy over that ‘stoner’ rock the weird boys would listen to. Not that there’s a little room for rock in this soundtrack, Free’s All Right Now and Badfinger’s No Matter What finding their way in as well. It’s pretty safe-sounding stuff though, total AM radio material college students wouldn’t have any use for.

But then, the music for Now And Then wasn’t curated with me in mind. It’s a snapshot of what girls of the early ‘70s were playing, and we can’t fault it for that. Ricci growing into Rosie, however…

Michael Jackson - Thriller

Epic: 1982/2001

The only album you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not a music fan. Considering Thriller remains the top selling record ever, such a statement isn’t hyperbolic in the slightest. Chances are good you either have Thriller, know someone who has Thriller, or have heard no less than half this album in your lifetime. Yes, even you toddlers incapable of reading this. And if you’re one of those sacks that deliberately avoided Thriller because… reasons, you’ve most definitely seen or heard the covers, the parodies, the memes, or the paraphernalia that spun off from here. Michael Jackson’s opus reintroduced a generation to the concept of an album as an event, one many future pop stars continue replicating to this date with varying degrees of success.

Quincy Jones remains humble in interviews regarding Thriller’s success, the producer often stating he and Jackson were only out to make the best album that they could, not a cultural touchstone that would shape the ‘80s. C’mon, Q’, you had to know you were on some next level shit with this record. You don’t spend an inordinate amount of time and money knocking out the same ol’ R&B tunes everyone else was peddling. You go and get yourself all the best equipment and resources you have available, cross-blending and genre fusing all the fashionable black music of the time while mixing in cutting-edge studio tricks and sounds.

Classic contributions like full horn and string sections, backing soul singers, and funky-ass guitar licks. Modern technology in the form of synthesizers, drum sequencers, and vocal modulators. Obscurities like Afro-funk (Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’), emulation of outlandish instruments (theremin in Thriller, Blaster Beam in Beat It), and guest spots like Eddie Van Halen in Beat It, Vincent Price in Thriller, and Paul McCartney in The Girl Is Mine. Seriously, one does not get themselves a Beatle without expecting a significant hit on your hands.

Even without the Holy Trinity of Michael Jackson singles, Thriller would be remembered as one of the greatest R&B records of the ‘80s, perhaps ever. Along with the Soul Makossa inspired chant, Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’ is a great slice of disco funk. Though not released as a single, Baby Be Mine’s got some serious boogie going for it. The Girl Is Mine is pure R&B sap, but delightfully charming (Shyamalan Twist: fed up with Michael and Paul’s bickering, the girl takes off with E.T.). Airy ballad Human Nature did solid chart numbers, P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing) gets in on that P-funk vibe, and The Lady In My Life is a fine enough R&B standard to close out on.

But yes, we all know why you’re here. The best bassline of the ‘80s in Billie Jean. The best guitar riff of the ‘80s in Beat It. The best video of the ‘80s in Thriller. These pushed the album from ‘damned good’ into iconic status. Not bad for a genre that seldom got a whiff of recognition from gatekeepers of the old music industry.

Marvin Gaye - Collections

Columbia/Sony Music Entertainment: 2001/2004

It’s just not fair. Marvin Gaye had turned things around in his life, looked primed to take the ‘80s by storm after struggling for much of the previous decade. Columbia got him out of his Motown contract, plus all the promotional perks that came with being on the label, and he provided them with an instant classic with Sexual Healing, for which he won all sorts of awards and accolades for. If he could keep that mojo going, the three album deal with Columbia might have brought us a trilogy of the greatest modern R&B music ever written, no small feat in a decade that saw the emergence of tons of smooth, soulful crooners. But no, the cruelty of the fates decreed that he'd be murdered by his own father in an argument, denying the world the heart-warming tale of musical triumph over bitter tragedy. No wonder that Marvin Gaye biopic has struggled to get greenlit – who'd want to watch something so depressing?

As a means of completing that three album contract, two posthumous records were released by Columbia. The first, Dream Of A Lifetime, used various recordings from the Midnight Love sessions (aka: the Sexual Healing LP) in making a follow-up to that highly successful album. The third, Romantically Yours, gathered earlier sessions from aborted projects during Gaye's Motown days, creating something of a throw-back candlelight soul album in the process. It stands quite in contrast to the previous two, using traditional instrumentation over the electronic beats and production of Midnight and Dream. These weren't cash grabs either, producers and long-time collaborators Gordon Banks and Harvey Fuqua aiming to honor Gaye’s memory, with the albums intended as a love-letter to his fans.

Thus, when it came time for ol’ Marvin to have his honorary Super Hits/Collections, there wasn’t a heck of a lot for Columbia to choose from. Obviously Sexual Healing is here, but what else from these albums generated some chart action for the Gaye estate? Funky Sanctified Lady was the other major one, which features vocoder action no less. More interesting is the original title, Sanctified Pussy, which can still be heard from Gaye in a muffled sort of way.

That’s about it for singles though. I haven’t a clue how Columbia went about compiling this CD, why they chose the tracks they did. It’s a very small sample of Gaye’s discography, though does provide a respectable overview of his talents, even if more than half of this track list is heavy with the early ‘80s funk and soul. And if you’re looking for his vintage sound, the latter portions with orchestras and lounge jazz croon is fine. I guess.

Sorry, I don’t have nearly enough experience with his ‘60s and ‘70s output to know if songs like Walkin’ In The Rain and Stranger In My Life hold up. Y’all are probably better off springing for a comprehensive greatest hits or box set (again) if you’re after a proper Gaye experience.

OutKast - The Love Below

Arista: 2003

Of course the reason a high percentage of folks bought OutKast's last (and final?) proper album was for that one song on Mr. Benjamin's solo effort, The Love Below. It was such a hit, such a smash, such a pop culture revelation, it turned André 3000 into a superstar overnight, the video serving as much a spotlight on his many stage talents as anything music related. It probably could have launched a semi-successful solo career had Hollywood not lured him away for so long, ushering in a new era of rappers forgoing the standard hip-hop beats of the day for more funk, soul, jazz, and blues fusions. Where you could croon to R&B while mixing in electro synths while sticking to a conceptual theme for the full eighty minutes a CD offered. Where you could be as quirky as you could go, all the while exposing a sensitive side almost unheard of in the world of rap. Come to think of it, hip-hop has come around to such developments in recent years, though most keep pointing to Kanye West as the spearhead, The Love Below practically forgotten these days.

Maybe hip-hop just wasn't ready for it. For sure they didn't mind influences from Prince and Funkadelic making their ways into their jams, but only for a track or three, and always with the sounds of the street kept intact. This was a full-on, take-it or leave-it indulgence, and save a few of those killer, undeniable earworms OutKast could always be counted upon, many left it in the rear view. Even those who only came for Hey Ya!, knowing nothing of the group's history in the Atlanta rap scene, were challenged by the oddities André 3000 wilfully filled The Love Below with. Lord knows when folks bring up this double-LP, they always speak of Speakerboxxx with more fondness, finding Big Boi’s ode to Southern hip-hop the easier to take of the two.

Listening to The Love Below a decade on, and all that lovely hindsight firmly reminding us this could end up being the final OutKast album, it makes things much easier to appreciate what André 3000 was shooting for here. For sure you can mix in some askew blues moments (Take Off Your Cool, Prototype) with your broken-beatnik electro (A Life In The Day Of Benjamin André, Pink & Blue). Or why not some frantic jazzstep (Spread, My Favorite Things) with classic jazz vibes (Love Hater, She’s Alive). Honestly, The Love Below sounds like Mr. Benjamin is exercising every muse he never fully explored in his years of OutKast, all in one go. The whole ‘love’ concept of the album is just something to hang all these disparate tunes on, and while it’s all interesting to hear, Lord help us if a b-side version of this is ever revealed. It probably didn’t need to run the full eighty minutes, though I cannot deny being intrigued by every next track as ol’ André reveals another of his many tastes.

OutKast - Speakerboxxx

Arista: 2003

To write about OutKast’s double-LP opus Speakerboxxx / The Love Below is ultimately an exercise in doubling one’s word count, the two ‘solo albums’ so radically different from each they demand divided attention. Fortunately for me, I’ve long set a precedent of reviewing individual CDs of multi-disc releases, and if there’s ever an album that needs this, it’s OutKast’s technical last album (to date). No, I don’t count Idlewild, the soundtrack merely one part of that project’s main focus: making a movie about OutKast, set in an old-timey ragtime era, because of course they would.

Before venturing into Big Boi’s album, here’s a bit of forgotten trivia first. When the double-disc came out, the CD you’d see upon opening the tray was André 3000’s The Love Below. This, despite Speakerboxxx long considered the CD1 due to its position in the main title, being the advertised front cover, and the name everyone automatically associates with this release. I bring this up because it points to one of the idiosyncrasies that made OutKast such a unique entity within hip-hop’s landscape. They thrived on dashing expectations, whether something big and bold like genre fusions on their albums, to something simple like tricking hip-hop heads into playing the disc they wouldn’t care for if they weren’t paying attention.

Speakerboxxx though, they’d be totally fine with, especially all those trunk rattling Southern bass jams. Big Boi always was the more ‘traditional’ hip-hop part of OutKast, and with a full LP to indulge himself, unleashes plenty of beats for the booty and body, and tons of rhymes for the lyrical heads. Ghetto Musick, Tomb Of The Boom, Flip Flop Rock, and Last Call have no problem getting rowdy and crunk for the sake of it, while funky soul worms its way in Unhappy, Bowtie, The Way You Move, and Reset. And though Dré 3000 doesn’t do much in the way of rhyming on Speakerboxxx, he does lend his production to a few esoteric cuts (Ghetto Musick, War, Church), bringing this CD as close to the vibe most point as vintage OutKast.

Not that Big Boi lacks lyrical back-up without his partner in crime afoot. Mr. Patton has plenty on his mind to spit, getting a few street tales and perspectives out on War, Knowing and The Rooster. He’s not hesitant in calling in some outside support too, Speakerboxxx featuring one of OutKast’s biggest guest spots ever with Jay-Z dropping in along with your usual plethora of Southern rap names (Killer Mike, Goodie Mob, Ludacris, Lil’ Jon & The East Side Boyz). At a time when crunk was primed for its takeover of all things hip-hop, it’s quite refreshing hearing such bass heavy music with some effort put into lyrics. Hell, Last Call with Lil’ Jon is probably one of the best non Lil’ Jon-produced Lil’ Jon tracks out there (pst, it was André 3000 at the console there too). Oh, the wonders we could have visited upon had OutKast kept going this route in the ‘00s.

Fugees - The Score

Columbia: 1996

Fugees’ The Score annoyed me to no end when it first came out. It was inescapable, everyone hyping the ever-loving Hell out of it, songs on hourly rotation blasting from radio airwaves and music video transmissions. Not to mention the nonstop requests at whatever teen dance, Christmas party, or wedding I was attending, when all I wanted to hear out was a little Dance Mix 96 instead. Okay, so I only heard Killing Me Softly, because it was among the most omnipresent singles of that year. That was enough to convince me The Score wasn’t worth my time though, as teenage ignorance is wont to do.

Slowly but surely I came around to the Fugees' multi-platinum selling sophomore effort (thanks, jungle remixes!). Killing Me Softly is what it is, a fine cover of a classic soul song that gave Lauryn Hill the spotlight on the album, Wyclef and Pras politely stepping aside for her moment to shine (save some hype man calls). What finally made me a fan, however, was the way she could command a hook so effortlessly.

Ready Or Not is the obvious one, but the strangely forgotten Fu-Gee-La is another winner, her rendition of the Teena Marie original worming its way inside your brain matter for long-term residence. Seriously, I listened to The Score about a week ago, and her Fu-Gee-La chorus is still randomly spinning in my head! It doesn’t hurt it’s got such a wicked bottom end, deep in the dub with a swaggering dancehall bounce. Why doesn’t anyone bring this song up anymore? It was the lead single, including a prominent sticker on the front proudly proclaiming it as the reason to buy The Score. It had two extra remixes added as bonus tracks, including one from dub reggae legends Sly & Robbie! Yet to this day, nadda and zilch is mentioned of it. Hell, I don’t even recall anyone talking up the track even when the album was new – even the goofy kung-fu Chinese restaurant skit prior to it got more play than Fu-Gee-La. Revive this song, yo’!

While the rest of The Score if often bypassed from the big tunes, that’d be a disservice to your ears. Yes, the Fugees were only ever modest MCs, but they rose to fame when gangsta tropes and New York City mafioso raps were the big hotness on the East Coast. In feeding off their influences of reggae, dancehall, soul, and the conscious end of hip-hop, they stood apart from all their contemporaries, offering an easy-going vibe for an increasingly aggressive scene. They could throw down when it came to battle skills (How Many Mics, The Score), though their focus was aimed more at inner-city strife, especially back in Wyclef’s native Haiti.

Speaking of Wyclef, just how brilliantly daft is some of his production here? Sampling Enya – freaking Enya! – for a hip-hop track and making it work is amazing in of itself. Still, I always knew Boadicea was a dope cut, if given right context.

Faithless - No Roots

Arista: 2004

Faithless had to know they needed a shakeup. The various members weren't feeling the synergy quite so strong as the years wore on, other pet projects taking their time away from being one of the biggest bands in the UK (huh, that sounds familiar). They had enough built-in good will with their fans that stretching their musical ability wouldn't alienate many anyway, so why not try something different while the opportunity was there? It's not like it'd abruptly end the group. Haha... eh, well...

Still, No Roots was popular enough, earning Faithless their first number one album on the UK charts. It’s mind-boggling that they never accomplished it with any previous LP. You’d think at least Sunday 8PM or even Outrospective would have climbed that high since those had much bigger singles in their favour (the group was still too ‘underground’ in their Reverence years). Generally speaking, Outrospective did have better success abroad, but most of the world had moved on from Faithless by 2004, whereas their native land still had much love for them (for a couple more years anyway).

No Roots may not have garnered the same mass appeal as their previous albums, but I wager this is Faithless’ best album-album after Sunday 8PM. Though the group dared to blend genres few others would in their previous LPs, their old formula was getting all too predictable. Here’s the trip-hop conscious track with Maxi Jazz. Here’s the Big Obvious Club Anthem. Here’s the world-weary folksy singer song. Here’s the Dido guest spot. Here’s the other Big Obvious Club Anthem. Here’s the other trip-hop conscious track with Maxi Jazz. Here’s the quirky track. Here’s the blissy instrumental. Hey, it was a very effective way to arrange an album, but doing the same thing three times in a row seems self-defeating for a group known for their dynamic musical abilities.

No Roots opts for a different, erm, route. You still have the same markers, but they’re blended into the flow of the album far more effectively. Heck, the entire record flows wonderfully between tracks, making the whole thing come off like one long song. Example: after the rousing build of I Want More (the first of the Big Club Anthem on here, though not as Obvious as prior hits), the drop into chipper, jazz-hoppy Love Lives On My Street is hardly forced, sounding as natural a follow-up as anything could. Another significant change to No Roots is the inclusion of LSK, providing an urban R&B croon in contrast to the khaki-clad style prior guest singers had (Jamie Catto, Boy George).

Elsewhere on the album, you get deep house (Sweep, Miss U Less, See U More), classy clubbier stuff (What About Love), acid ambient (Pastoral), and a little rock action too (Swingers) among the dependable trip-hop tracks. Plenty of reprisals throughout too, adding to the sense No Roots was designed with a full play-through in mind. Listen to a Faithless album in full? *gasp* No skipping to the hits for you, pal.