Rapper Sandman is back with a classic

Lanegan draws on ’80s

H“Dusty” (Mello Music Group) Fresh off last year’s ace collaboration with emcee and beatsmith Edan, Queens rapper Homeboy Sandman hits us back with “Dusty”, a redefinition of Golden Age hip-hop for the now.

A classicist who embraces the future, Sandman’s blueprint is not calculated: “There aren’t any maps/So I go my own way.” On album closer “Always”, he finds “a place that you can’t touch” – the space between back-inthe-day and a higher plane.

Always with respect to the art form, his rhyme structures are studied but off the cuff, like he’s flipping out in measured tones. Versed in linguistics and the way inflection changes meaning, Boy Sand can still “breakdance without cardboard.” The hook on the infectious “Name” spells it out: “You can’t solve me.”

An existentialist who drops science like earlier Queens rapper Craig G, on “Wondering Why” he ponders questions both trivial and trenchant: “Why I don’t know the real ways just back routes?” He rhymes “panacea” with “Bill Laimbeer” and “Zambia”, making it all look easy, at one point plainly stating: “It’s not difficult.” Like-minded guests Quelle Chris and Your Old Droog are also all about the grammar, with Droog concluding: “I’m above you like the dots on umlauts.”

The production by Mono En Stereo is bananas. Gyrating vibraphones, jubilant horn runs, elastic basslines and odes to Weldon Irvine all mesh. Dabbling in everything from lounge-rock obscurities to spiritual jazz, the plush loops and tasteful percussion amplify Sandman’s bars. Standout track “Yes Iyah” pinpoints the overlap between a tribal rain dance and a college marching band.

Ill beats, tight rhymes, fly samples and boundless charisma on the mic. The formula is simple geometry. And Homeboy’s got the angle.

Sandman

“Somebody’s Knocking” (Heavenly Recordings)

Can Mark Lanegan lend credibility to the 1980s, that regularly disparaged but nevertheless exciting decade reduced by detractors to plastic keyboards and robotic drums?

On “Somebody’s Knocking”, he makes a valiant and magnetic effort by drawing electronic inspiration from New Order and Depeche Mode while often sounding like Iggy Pop backed by the Psychedelic Furs and produced by The Cure’s Robert Smith.

From fronting grunge cult band Screaming Trees to tormented solo albums and collaborations with Isobel Campbell, Duke Garwood and Queens of the Stone Age, Lanegan has repeatedly found new paths.

“Somebody’s Knocking” sees the Los Angeles resident lending his tree trunk of a voice to stories imbued in our brutal times, but treating the withering chaos with humor, empathy and a pronounced weirdness.

Longtime associate Alain Johannes, Rob Marshall, Martin Jenkins and Sietse van Gorkom, among others, help Lanegan build songs that echo the more inspired sounds of the ‘80s.

That vintage can be appreciated across the whole album, exemplified by the likes of churning opening track “Disbelief Suspension”, projected floor-filler “Penthouse High” and the regretful “She Loved You”.

Darker voltages cast their shadow over the criminally explicit “Stitch It Up” and “Night Flight to Kabul”, which could be about a mercenary whose dreams of glory have transformed into a brazen search for pecuniary rewards.

Even when the intensity abates, like on “Playing Nero”, the menacingly spooky road song “Paper Hat” and the deliriously biblical “Two Bells Ringing at Once”, the flights of Lanegan’s imagery remain far in spaced-out territories.

Jim James, Teddy Abrams and the Louisville Orchestra, (Decca Gold)

A piccolo and glockenspiel delicately flutter in as the voice of Jim James echoes out. Slowly, the song builds and the breadth of instrumentation becomes clear. You find yourself in a seat at a theater, an orchestra stretching before you.

Woodwinds, percussion and a choir start the opening song before strings join in at the chorus and brass swells. It all builds to one resounding point: “Love universal/The order of nature/Hate has nowhere to grow.”

This is Jim James as you’ve never heard him. In fact, it’s likely you’ve never heard anything quite like this.

A Kentucky-native, James is joined by the Louisville Orchestra and music director-conductor Teddy Abrams for “The Order of Nature”, an album that is sonically magnificent and recorded in one take during a live performance in Louisville.

In their symbiotic relationship, James, who performs as both a solo artist and the leader of rock band My Morning Jacket, has given Abrams and his orchestra an edge and lyrical depth. Abrams, meanwhile, has lent James a theatrical element unmatched by anything he could have created on his own in a studio.

Together, they build a story complete with expositions, arching climaxes and grand denouements. Songs roll into one another in such a way that it’s not always apparent where one ends and another begins.

Like any good story, there are vicissitudes. Images of bombs, blood and walls stain “Over and Over”, while “In Demand” brings a more hopeful tone. “We’re gonna lift the curse,” a chorus sings out. “By just showing up/ We’re gonna lift the curse.”

At the heart of the album is a message alluded to in the opening track: Humanity is playing with the unnatural, and by embracing hate, we only hurt ourselves. James makes it clear though, over the course of nine tracks, that this is not something we are fated to, but something we can rise above.

LOS ANGELES:

By Jake O’Connell

Also:

In honor of the 40th anniversary of Prince’s self-titled second album, “Prince” – which was released on October 19, 1979 – late artist’s estate and Warner Records have released a previously uncirculated, solo acoustic demo recording of his song “I Feel for You”, available on streaming services and as a limitedrun 7” vinyl single.

The demo features a 20-year-old Prince running through the song, accompanying himself on acoustic guitar. It is roughly recorded – you can hear the cassette recorder being turned on – but stunning. The recording was created in the winter of 1978-1979, around the time Prince was preparing to make his solo debut at the Capri Theater in North Minneapolis, and it was recently rediscovered on one of the countless cassette tapes stored in his much-vaunted vault of previously unreleased recordings. (Agencies)