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	<title>Consequence of Sound &#187; Nappy Roots</title>
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	<description>Think Fast, Listen Slowly</description>
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		<title>On Second Listen: Nappy Roots &#8211; The Humdinger</title>
		<link>http://consequenceofsound.net/2008/10/on-second-listen-the-humdinger/</link>
		<comments>http://consequenceofsound.net/2008/10/on-second-listen-the-humdinger/#comments</comments>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 26 Oct 2008 17:14:48 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dan Caffrey</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[On Second Listen]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Nappy Roots]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://consequenceofsound.net/?p=8155</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Nappy Roots have a lot to fight for. After two albums of twangy, stomping, cookout hip-hop (2002&#8242;s Watermelon, Chicken &#38; Gritz and 2003&#8242;s Wooden Leather) and a hodgepodge of mixtapes, the Kentucky quintet has yet to reach the superstar status they deserve, somehow unable to break out of the most frustrating vortex found in rap [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a href="http://www.myspace.com/nappyrootsmusic">Nappy Roots</a> have a lot to fight for. After two albums of twangy, stomping, cookout hip-hop (2002&#8242;s <em>Watermelon, Chicken &amp; Gritz</em> and 2003&#8242;s <em>Wooden Leather</em>) and a hodgepodge of mixtapes, the Kentucky quintet has yet to reach the superstar status they deserve, somehow unable to break out of the most frustrating vortex found in rap music today: too intelligent to be embraced by the mainstream and too fun to be indie heroes. Although there are hip-hop acts who have been able to achieve success on both ends (Outkast and Kanye West come to mind), they are few and far between.</p>
<p>So it&#8217;s understandable that the group sounds a bit down on &#8220;Beads and Braids&#8221;, the opening track of <em>The Humdinger</em>, their first studio release in five years. Laid over a stark beat consisting of several plunking piano notes and a mournful bass line, &#8220;Beads and Braids&#8221; finds Nappy Roots&#8217; five members (Skinny Deville, B. Stille, Big V, Fish Scales and Ron Clutch) lashing out at anyone who might have something to say about them, whether it be splitting with their label, the long wait between albums, or the departure of R. Prophet.</p>
<p>That&#8217;s right, their most compelling member is gone (off to pursue a solo career or something), and his squawking, quasi-Jamaican flow is sorely missed. While each member of the group is a magnificent storyteller in their own right, their vocal qualities tend to sound a lot like. Skinny Deville and Ron Clutch&#8217;s rapid fire, jaw harp nasal tones are nearly identical, as are the laid back, molasses thick drawls of B. Stille and Fish Scales. This leaves Big V&#8217;s raspy, washtub bass gravel as the band&#8217;s only discernible voice. The fact that each member raps on nearly every song doesn&#8217;t help either.</p>
<p>But the album&#8217;s main weakness is the production. The mopey beats fail to match up with the diverse, often hopeful lyrics.  &#8220;On My Way To GA&#8221;, should be celebratory, and lyrically it is, but its heart-tugging strings and chanting backing vocals are more melancholy than bombastic. It&#8217;s still a resonant song, conjuring up images of peach trees and country landscape while driving in a rental car on &#8220;the highway of the righteous.&#8221;  You just wish it was a bit more fun. The same goes for the album&#8217;s other state-oriented song, &#8220;Kalifornia Dreamin&#8217;&#8221;. Its lonely circus organ and hesitant guitar make you pine for the quirky, jugband landscape of <em>Watermelon, Chicken &amp; Gritz. </em>More party-centric tracks like &#8220;Who Got It???&#8221; are saddled with eerie keyboards and hollow congas, giving them an oddly spooky vibe.  Even &#8220;Pole Position,&#8221; the album&#8217;s mandatory strip club song, sounds like the most bittersweet party in hip-hop history.</p>
<p>The stuffy production actually ends up serving the band on their more socially minded tracks. &#8220;No Static&#8221; is a lament of growing up in the ghetto, and its muddy keyboards and moody bass line give it the haunting atmosphere it needs.</p>
<p>Other standout tracks include &#8220;Swerve and Lean&#8221; and &#8220;Good Day&#8221;. The former (featuring only Skinny Deville) is an impossibly cool riff on just about every hip hop cliché (women, clubbing, etc.), boosted by a near menacing crescendo of horns that would fit right in at Stax records. The latter is the album&#8217;s most sincere track both lyrically and rhythmically, driven by an exuberant Tin Pan Alley piano as each rapper simply gushes over having a good day. The members of Nappy Roots are all intelligent and skilled enough to make such a commonplace event sound like something profound and heavenly.  It would just be nice if the rest of their beats were a match for their lyrical prowess. Then maybe we&#8217;d be dancing at a backyard barbecue instead of shuffling around at Sunday brunch.</p>
<p><strong>Check Out:</strong><br />
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]]></content:encoded>
		<content:mobile><![CDATA[Nappy Roots have a lot to fight for. After two albums of twangy, stomping, cookout hip-hop (2002's <em>Watermelon, Chicken &amp; Gritz</em> and 2003's <em>Wooden Leather</em>) and a hodgepodge of mixtapes, the Kentucky quintet has yet to reach the superstar status they deserve, somehow unable to break out of the most frustrating vortex found in rap music today: too intelligent to be embraced by the mainstream and too fun to be indie heroes. Although there are hip-hop acts who have been able to achieve success on both ends (Outkast and Kanye West come to mind), they are few and far between.

So it's understandable that the group sounds a bit down on "Beads and Braids", the opening track of <em>The Humdinger</em>, their first studio release in five years. Laid over a stark beat consisting of several plunking piano notes and a mournful bass line, "Beads and Braids" finds Nappy Roots' five members (Skinny Deville, B. Stille, Big V, Fish Scales and Ron Clutch) lashing out at anyone who might have something to say about them, whether it be splitting with their label, the long wait between albums, or the departure of R. Prophet.

That's right, their most compelling member is gone (off to pursue a solo career or something), and his squawking, quasi-Jamaican flow is sorely missed. While each member of the group is a magnificent storyteller in their own right, their vocal qualities tend to sound a lot like. Skinny Deville and Ron Clutch's rapid fire, jaw harp nasal tones are nearly identical, as are the laid back, molasses thick drawls of B. Stille and Fish Scales. This leaves Big V's raspy, washtub bass gravel as the band's only discernible voice. The fact that each member raps on nearly every song doesn't help either.

But the album's main weakness is the production. The mopey beats fail to match up with the diverse, often hopeful lyrics.  "On My Way To GA", should be celebratory, and lyrically it is, but its heart-tugging strings and chanting backing vocals are more melancholy than bombastic. It's still a resonant song, conjuring up images of peach trees and country landscape while driving in a rental car on "the highway of the righteous."  You just wish it was a bit more fun. The same goes for the album's other state-oriented song, "Kalifornia Dreamin'". Its lonely circus organ and hesitant guitar make you pine for the quirky, jugband landscape of <em>Watermelon, Chicken &amp; Gritz. </em>More party-centric tracks like "Who Got It???" are saddled with eerie keyboards and hollow congas, giving them an oddly spooky vibe.  Even "Pole Position," the album's mandatory strip club song, sounds like the most bittersweet party in hip-hop history.

The stuffy production actually ends up serving the band on their more socially minded tracks. "No Static" is a lament of growing up in the ghetto, and its muddy keyboards and moody bass line give it the haunting atmosphere it needs.

Other standout tracks include "Swerve and Lean" and "Good Day". The former (featuring only Skinny Deville) is an impossibly cool riff on just about every hip hop cliché (women, clubbing, etc.), boosted by a near menacing crescendo of horns that would fit right in at Stax records. The latter is the album's most sincere track both lyrically and rhythmically, driven by an exuberant Tin Pan Alley piano as each rapper simply gushes over having a good day. The members of Nappy Roots are all intelligent and skilled enough to make such a commonplace event sound like something profound and heavenly.  It would just be nice if the rest of their beats were a match for their lyrical prowess. Then maybe we'd be dancing at a backyard barbecue instead of shuffling around at Sunday brunch.

<strong>Check Out:</strong>


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