CD Reviews

The Whitefield Brothers

In the Raw
(Now-Again/Stones Throw)
8.1

Goes well with: The Meters, The J.B.’s, Fela Kuti, Jackie Mittoo

When Munich-based brothers Jan and Max Weissenfeldt formed The Poets of Rhythm more than 15 years ago, they set the foundation for some of the best funk cuts since the early ’70s. Releasing full-length albums for DJ Shadow’s Quannum Projects and R&B revivalists Daptone, members of The Poets have also recorded under aliases such as The Heliocentrics and Karl Hector & The Malcouns, names that may ring familiar only to the most committed deep-funk fanatics.

In 2001, Jan and Max “Whitefield” and Co. released In the Raw on the small Soul-Fire label, and it quickly went out of print, becoming somewhat of a collector’s item in the process. And with good reason. When The Beastie Boys worshipped at The Meters’ altar for much of Check Your Head and Ill Communication, The Whitefield Brothers are the band they wanted to sound like.

Progression is mostly absent from In the Raw, but that’s beside the point. A pitch-perfect blend of rare African grooves, New Orleans funk and dub, the band is as comfortable with organ-driven rave-ups (the aptly titled “Rampage”) as they are with the stuttering, militaristic snares and dubby horns of “Weiya (Serengeti Beat).”
The Whitefield Brothers specialize in the kind of joyous, deceptively vintage grooves that many acts of their ilk simply can’t reproduce. Basically, it’s a party, and everyone’s invited. Yes, that means you.

Black Math Horseman

Wyltt
(Tee Pee)
7.5

Goes well with: Om, Opeth, Tool, Mazzy Star

As if you couldn’t tell from their name, this six-song debut by Black Math Horseman is pretty fucking dark. That’s right, the L.A. band is taking back the “black” moniker from all those acts (Lips, Keys, Mountain, Eyed Peas, etc.) who have apparently forgotten that, once upon a time, if you had “black” in your name, you’d better have long hair and a mastery of power chords.

And while BMH certainly have the hair and chords in spades (the ace, particularly), their name still doesn’t say it all; there’s nary a guitar solo in sight on Wyltt. The music is basically for anyone who thinks Maynard James Keenan’s voice just isn’t feminine enough or that Mazzy Star would have worked better as a metal band. Produced in the desert by Scott Reeder (Kyuss, Unida), it’s a 37-minute acid trip of an album that, while at times tedious and melodically repetitive, is balanced by singer Sera Timms gorgeous bellow that’s more Polly Jean Harvey than Polly Styrene.
Metal fans (whom I think I can safely say are mostly male) don’t need T&A or a woman screaming to take someone seriously as a singer. Black Math Horseman gets this. All you need are solid riffs and something substantial to say, preferably about dragons and/or death.

Heartless Bastards

The Mountain

(Fat Possum)

8.3

Goes well with: PJ Harvey, Joan Jett, Janis Joplin

It’s a little-known fact, but cans of whoop-ass come in varying sizes and potencies. Erika Wennerstrom (aka Heartless Bastards) is the small, 180-proof kind.

In 2004, Black Keys drummer and fellow Ohioan Patrick Carney passed Wennerstrom’s demo to his then-label, Fat Possum, and she’s been whooping and rocking for them ever since. Last year, Wennerstrom dismantled her long-time trio, left the Buckeye state and relocated to Austin, Texas, where she hired a bunch of local cats—including Spoon producer Mike McCarthy—to construct The Mountain, her third release and first since the band overhaul. The downside is that the bluesy, garage-rock fuzz that permeated the first two records has been muted a bit by the extra players and nuanced instrumentation of steel guitar, banjo and mandolin. But it’s also the upside.

Heartless Bastards’ secret weapon has always been Wennerstrom’s versatility. Whether softly purring or belting it out, she always exudes equal parts power and cool. And the extra room on the new album allows her to showcase it even further. For better or worse, the roadhouse chanteuse is maturing. Who knows—maybe Austin will prove to be the perfect habitat for this Cincinnati-less Bengal to howl.