By Odeisel

Rappers talk a lot of shit. Boots Riley has always numbered among the precious few who feel lyrically bout it, and throughout his career with The Coup, his high skill level and deep conceptual rhymes has powered a body of work that is hard to contend with. Tom Morello, guitarist extraordinaire, is no stranger to raging against the machine (trust me I was working on the NYSE when his group tried to storm the gates for one of their videos). This musical Felix and Oscar have combined to form the Street Sweeper Social Club. Their latest work, The Ghetto Blaster EP, is full of high-powered rhymes, classic remakes, and strong musicianship.

The title track features a constant underlying guitar riff with pounding drums.  Riley’s cadence is a bit Mos Def-ish and the guitars almost drown him out on the first verse as you can only make out a few of his words. The second verse he comes harder as Riley exhorts, “I’m from the land of the free labor that planted the plan of the Black invasion that scrambled over to Canada, a fan of radical bandits with bandanas, slam in the bananas and cold rat-a-tat-a ya.”

The rage mellows out a bit on “Everything” with a strong but subdued guitar and a sparse reoccurring string. Boots isn’t hard to hear on this round getting right down to business. “Every death is an abrupt one, every cop is a corrupt one if you ain’t got no cash up in a trust fund,” rants Riley sparking the class warfare that has been covertly eating at the core of America’s fiber. He examines the ills of society in simply arranged terms and puts everything front and center and the beat backs him up perfectly.

The Street Sweepers snatch MIA’s “Paper Planes” for their own guitar driven version, replacing the gunshots with guitar licks, wishing poison to a broken system. The song exchanges MIA’s whimsical gulliness for a more muscular feel. “The New Fuck You” is a driving rhythm as Boots juxtaposes the present reality with old instances of conflict. Rap is the new rock, three strikes is the new lynching, hand guns are the new switch blades, with each instance upping the ante. Revolution, consequently, is the new fuck you.

“Scars” brings harder drums and high-hats while never ceding the guitars’ prime position. The main beat is a frenetic, yet smooth rhythm perfect for Boot’s tale of the hustlers and how the have-nots scheme and move to stay ahead of the axe. “Broke motherfuckers be sharp as lasers,” rhymes Riley as he gives instance after instance of how they get over but never go under. The bridge gives subtle homage to coke classic “White Lines.”

The group does an interesting rendition of Cool J’s immortal “Mama Said Knock You Out.” Boots lacks LL’s nuclear energy and presence but the guitar arrangements and some of the vocal changes allow the song room to breathe and survive a direct comparison to his unplugged performance. It loses in a head to head battle but the attempt is noteworthy.

The album closes with the chunk guitars of “Promenade,” which finds Riley adopting a do-se-do square dance delivery that sounds novel until you hear the world politics and social/political content encapsulated within his lyrics. Then it’s no longer a laughing matter.

The odd couple’s music is lyrically dense and musically potent. If this is a precursor to what an entire album is going to be, then I patiently await what’s next. Don’t steal this album. The revolution won’t be televised but these guys can get you hip to it. Or at least make it hip.

Out of 5

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