17 Songs, 59 Minutes

EDITORS’ NOTES

With a new D’Angelo album as far off on the horizon as aerodynamic pork, Van Hunt’s second album, On the Jungle Floor, was a relief in more than one way. Mainly, though, it’s a rough-edged rejoinder to the kind of neo-soul album that seems engaged only in proving its musically correct knowledge of the ’70s (and maybe a little Nikki Giovanni). Hunt don’t play that. As independent a mind as D’Angelo or anyone else in the neo game, his brash explorations conjure Curtis Mayfield, Marvin Gaye and Shuggie Otis without ever leaning too hard on their examples. A living artist who can both touch the street and question its values, Hunt wonders “Where is your character?” and locates the critique of gangsta-ism tucked away in Iggy Pop’s “No Sense of Crime.” An essential listen for old-schoolers and blingers alike.

EDITORS’ NOTES

With a new D’Angelo album as far off on the horizon as aerodynamic pork, Van Hunt’s second album, On the Jungle Floor, was a relief in more than one way. Mainly, though, it’s a rough-edged rejoinder to the kind of neo-soul album that seems engaged only in proving its musically correct knowledge of the ’70s (and maybe a little Nikki Giovanni). Hunt don’t play that. As independent a mind as D’Angelo or anyone else in the neo game, his brash explorations conjure Curtis Mayfield, Marvin Gaye and Shuggie Otis without ever leaning too hard on their examples. A living artist who can both touch the street and question its values, Hunt wonders “Where is your character?” and locates the critique of gangsta-ism tucked away in Iggy Pop’s “No Sense of Crime.” An essential listen for old-schoolers and blingers alike.

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