THE MEAT PURVEYORS
Pain by Numbers
(Bloodshot)
After bowing to the throne of the King on its debut, mashing three Mary Louise Ciccone songs into one on 1999's "The Madonna Trilogy" 7-inch, and paying tribute to the entire nation of Sweden with a glorious cover of Abba's "S.O.S.," this Austin quartet still hasn't run out of ways to yank your tractor chain. The Meat Purveyors alternate between displaying cheek and turning the other cheek on their fourth album with a 50-50 split of covers and originals. But here's the bee in the bonnet: it's the covers (Johnny Paycheck's "It Won't Be Long (And I'll Be Hating You)" and Bill Monroe's "One I Love is Gone") that sound completely reverent this time around. Honey-voiced lead Jo Cohen lays claim to Fleetwood Mac's "Sunday Morning" as her own tearjerker. Meanwhile, crafty mandolinist Peter Stiles blows the roof off the barn dance with "Heartbreaker," a song fast enough to be included on Moonshine's next Happy 2 B Hardcore compilation. Guitarist Bill Anderson is the group's most prolific writer, with five keenly melodic, old-timey novelties about cheap deaths, cheaper haircuts, and the cheapest moonshine. The key, of course, is to actually listen to the words that are coming from their mouths. Anderson's midalbum revelation "Pain by Numbers" made for such a great ambient background soundtrack that Cohen's persona as a jealous ex-husband didn't sink in until after repeated plays, squashing my hopes for a (shut up, Beavis!) genre-defying lesbian revenge fantasy. NICK GREEN
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SLUM VILLAGE
Detroit Deli: A Taste of Detroit
(Priority)
Slum's debut, 2000's Fantastic Vol. 2, was part of a brief moment where post Native Tongues hip-hop attempted to reconcile the pleasure principle of cocaine rap. (Best example: Q-Tip's underrated Amplified.) The Village genius, producer Jay Dee, a.k.a. Jay Dilla, then decamped in one of rap's few true tales of downward mobility. Largely produced by the remaining duo of Young RJ and Black Milk, the spirit of Detroit Deli is captured by the ODB on "Dirty": "Girl, if you flexible, intellectual, bisexual, can I get next to you?" It's the "intellectual" that sticks out; Deli reeks of the incense of bohemians getting freaky. "Do You" is a passable Bootsy's Rubber Band homage, though it's nowhere near OutKast's best. "Closer" is actually quite good faux dancehall that transcends how cheap and trendy it feels. "Old Girl/Shining Star" is the we-love-you-baby's-mamas track. "Selfish" is the obligatory Kanye West guest spot. But sit through this pleasant marshmallow fluff, and the back end of Detroit Deli is stuffed with goodness like a blintz. "It's On" could just as easily be titled "I Can't Believe It's Not Just Blaze." The guitar on "The Hours" taps the too-fast beat like a dartboard. "Count the Ways" is a retarded sex rap over a sublime beat like Detroit techno legend Carl Craig sippin' on some syrup. And "Reunion" welcomes back Jay Dilla with a palsied shaker, urban jungle caws, and a heart-stopper snare hit. Detroit Deli is more or less the low-cal College Dropout: not as mawkish or pretentious, but not as fleetingly brilliant either. But if you see 'em in the club, go give 'em a hug. JESS HARVEL
