Stankonia

Stankonia is staking its claim to sovereignty. A geographically elusive and psychedelically warped mental landmass, this is no playa-haters’ paradise, but the place “from which all funky things come.” Not Monaghan town, in other words.

Atlantan funkateers Dre Benjamin and Antwan “Big Boi” Patton are out to demonstrate they’re on top of their game when it comes to P-Funk-inspired innovation, and sell a bucketload of records in the process. Certainly a plan which has borne juicy fruit Stateside – Stankonia was an instant winner in a market sodden with the same old gangsta clichés and limp pimp posturing – but that’s not to say it’s a flawless clutch of flows. When it hits, Stankonia hits hard. ‘Bombs Over Baghdad’ is a furious rush of cluster-rhymes, breathless rhythm and gospel rapture – a track to rival vintage Public Enemy at their maddest, in spirit if not in politics.

Another definite album highlight, ‘Ms. Jackson’ has a hook to die for and a bassline to kill for – best of luck dislodging it from your mind once it sets up tenancy. At its best, Stankonia plays respectful dues to the likes of Parliament and Funkadelic and throws a whole heap of extras into the mix for good measure. Yet it’s far too sprawling to know what’s what – twelve select tracks would have done when we actually end up with twice that number, the album padded out with the obligatory hiphop skits and the half-hearted thug swagger of ‘Gangsta Shit’ or ‘We Luv Deez Hoez.’ One step forward…