24-7 Spyz - Gumbo Milennium
24- Spyz
Gumbo Millenium
1990 In-Effect Records
Personnel:
P. Fluid - Vocals
Jimi Hazel - Guitar, Vocals
Rick Skatore - Bass, Skatore
Anthony Johnson - Drums
At the beginning of the 90s, a slew of bands that mixed jazz, metal, punk, reggae and everything up to and including the kitchen sink arrived. 24-7 Spyz came from the depths of the South Bronx to assault the ears with a multiple-personality disorder soundwave that fell somewhere between Living Colour and Faith No More. However, where LC had a sound that was largely very developed and syncretic and FNM was very polished and overtly attempting to be avant-garde, 24-7 was simply raw and untethered. This was both a boon and a bane as the results could often end up exciting in their randomness, but the songwriting often suffered, especially lyrically.
Gumbo Millennium was their sophomore release after their debut, Harder Than You actually managed some minor MTV video play (I still remember the first time I saw their warped take on Kool and the Gang's Jungle Boogie and decided I had to pay attention to whatever the hell these guys did) and some radio time. It was an ambitious, if not alltogether uneven work. Songs throw together Suicidal Tendencies punk riffs over heavy funk basslines and corrosive metal solos in a patchwork quilt of genres. It shouldn't work at all, but more often than not it does. It's damn fun music, even when it isn't trying to be, and when it is, it's downright hysterical.
Starting with the brutish instrumental John Connelly's Theory which could be mistaken for Metallica if it wasn't for the fact that the drummer can actually keep time (yes, Lars has always and will always....suck), and then breaks into New Super Hero Worship, a stalking tweak-out tune that is like a mutant strain of Anthrax (the band not the bovine disease), but right as you are about to assume the album will be a mosh marathon, it cuts into a mixed bag of roots reggae on no-wave LSD (Deathstyle), funking about the Exxon oil spill (Valdez 27 Million?), ska-pop geopolitical rambling of We'll Have Power, and even a go-go meets booty-call polka anthem Culo Posse.
The band does seem to vacillate heavily between overlyearnest and somewhat trite political statements (i.e. Rascism) and the abjectly silly (Spyz on Piano), a short segue of all four members throwing down at a piano and verbally riffing about whatever comes to mind). They do sometimes manage to make strong compelling narratives, including the closer, Some Defender's Memories, which is more of a spoken word exposition done with Gil Scott Heron in mind.
While the whole band is tight, the powerhouse of this crew is clearly guitarist Jimi Hazel. His crisp, sharp riffs and clever soloing are not overbearing, but attentive listening shows the dude does not fuck around. While comparisons to Vernon Reid are inevitable (and not entirely without similarity), his style is much more grounded than Vernon (who has a much broader background in the avant-garde and jazz circles of NYCs underground, making his style considerably more cerebral) and less likely to go way out as much as make radical turns mid-song.
You might like this if you like:
Red Hot Chili Peppers - Mother's Milk
Living Colour - Time's Up
Fishbone - The Reality of My Surroundings
Faith No More - Angel Dust
Infectious Grooves - ..the Groove that Makes Your Booty Move
Gumbo Millenium
1990 In-Effect Records
Personnel:
P. Fluid - Vocals
Jimi Hazel - Guitar, Vocals
Rick Skatore - Bass, Skatore
Anthony Johnson - Drums
At the beginning of the 90s, a slew of bands that mixed jazz, metal, punk, reggae and everything up to and including the kitchen sink arrived. 24-7 Spyz came from the depths of the South Bronx to assault the ears with a multiple-personality disorder soundwave that fell somewhere between Living Colour and Faith No More. However, where LC had a sound that was largely very developed and syncretic and FNM was very polished and overtly attempting to be avant-garde, 24-7 was simply raw and untethered. This was both a boon and a bane as the results could often end up exciting in their randomness, but the songwriting often suffered, especially lyrically.
Gumbo Millennium was their sophomore release after their debut, Harder Than You actually managed some minor MTV video play (I still remember the first time I saw their warped take on Kool and the Gang's Jungle Boogie and decided I had to pay attention to whatever the hell these guys did) and some radio time. It was an ambitious, if not alltogether uneven work. Songs throw together Suicidal Tendencies punk riffs over heavy funk basslines and corrosive metal solos in a patchwork quilt of genres. It shouldn't work at all, but more often than not it does. It's damn fun music, even when it isn't trying to be, and when it is, it's downright hysterical.
Starting with the brutish instrumental John Connelly's Theory which could be mistaken for Metallica if it wasn't for the fact that the drummer can actually keep time (yes, Lars has always and will always....suck), and then breaks into New Super Hero Worship, a stalking tweak-out tune that is like a mutant strain of Anthrax (the band not the bovine disease), but right as you are about to assume the album will be a mosh marathon, it cuts into a mixed bag of roots reggae on no-wave LSD (Deathstyle), funking about the Exxon oil spill (Valdez 27 Million?), ska-pop geopolitical rambling of We'll Have Power, and even a go-go meets booty-call polka anthem Culo Posse.
The band does seem to vacillate heavily between overlyearnest and somewhat trite political statements (i.e. Rascism) and the abjectly silly (Spyz on Piano), a short segue of all four members throwing down at a piano and verbally riffing about whatever comes to mind). They do sometimes manage to make strong compelling narratives, including the closer, Some Defender's Memories, which is more of a spoken word exposition done with Gil Scott Heron in mind.
While the whole band is tight, the powerhouse of this crew is clearly guitarist Jimi Hazel. His crisp, sharp riffs and clever soloing are not overbearing, but attentive listening shows the dude does not fuck around. While comparisons to Vernon Reid are inevitable (and not entirely without similarity), his style is much more grounded than Vernon (who has a much broader background in the avant-garde and jazz circles of NYCs underground, making his style considerably more cerebral) and less likely to go way out as much as make radical turns mid-song.
You might like this if you like:
Red Hot Chili Peppers - Mother's Milk
Living Colour - Time's Up
Fishbone - The Reality of My Surroundings
Faith No More - Angel Dust
Infectious Grooves - ..the Groove that Makes Your Booty Move
posted by theloniusfunk at 4:16 AM
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