Music Reviews
By Justin Manager
4th Avenue Jones has 'no plan B'
By Justin Manager
TSC Writer
For the hip-hop enthusiast, 4th Avenue Jones' No Plan B is a dream come true. With true-to-the-street, surprisingly insightful lyrics and ghetto fabulous beats, the album is a bevy of rhymes and sounds that operates at the core of what defines the hip-hop genre.
The blending of feminine and masculine perspectives in the message and grooves is an inventive idea, up until this point not attempted by many rap acts out there (other than City High and perhaps the Junior M.A.F.I.A with Lil' Kim).
In listening to the record, it is clear that the members of 4th Avenue Jones have spent more than their fair share of time in hip-hop's underground scene, where the "commercialization" of a rapper's art is thought to be one of the worst faux pas achievable (more commonly known as "selling out").
That experience is what most likely explains the album's strengths and weaknesses. While there are no doubt head swaying beats on No Plan B that will more than thoroughly please a lover of all things bumpin', there seems to be little in the way of obviously marketable grooves on the album. Songs such as "Move On" and "What U Want" sound like they almost could capture the airwaves, but that a catchier hook or loop would make them far more radio-friendly.
From an artistic standpoint, "No Plan B" is at minimum a good album. And if Interscope markets the group vigorously, the group could conceivably move records. But in the entertainment business, an act such as 4th Avenue Jones receiving attention from a major record label is one big "if." B+
Montell delivers smooth RandB with his self-titled fifth album
By Cheryl Noland
TSC Writer
Heart pounding beats and silky smooth vocals will drive any girl crazy, especially if they're from Montell Jordan.
Seducing us on his self-titled fifth album with RandB ballads that are both sensual and vulnerable, Jordan croons about the various phases of love and lust. On "Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda," featuring fellow soul singer Case, Jordan regrets not telling a girl how he really feels about her, "I shoulda said I love her, a thousand times a day. Then I wouldn't be sittin' here, coulda woulda shoulda my whole damn life away."
From despair to desire, "Why Can't We" is an eight-minute slow jam filled with sexual innuendos that would make even R. Kelly and Lil' Kim blush.
His boldness persists on "Tasty," a funky track with a beat similar to Blackstreet's 1996 hip-hop hit "No Diggity." Jordan playfully chants, "Shake your money maker," not like we haven't heard enough booty songs, but still a great number.
Jordan's only real dance tune, "MJ's Anthem," disses the entire music industry and what it has become. His aggression seems a bit out of place compared to the rest of the album, but it's definitely one of his better efforts. Apparently he wants to prove that there's more to him than his colossal club hit, "This Is How We Do It." But Jordan's overall lack of diversity from his previous albums won't garner him any recognition.
Though Jordan doesn't deliver bedroom classics like Marvin Gaye's "Let's Get It On," he's still able to succeed in the romance department. B