Daily Staff Writer

“Mobile Estates”

Citizen King

Back in the early ’90s, when the hip-hop virus was freakishly spreading into other genres, a band by the name of Urban Dance Squad released “Deeper Shade of Soul.”

A reggae-flavored anthem for the lawn chair-inclined, the tune thrived on the belief that hip-hop truly was a deeper shade of soul.

Less than a year later, Arrested Development took the same philosophy and introduced it to the world via radio-friendly singles “Tennessee” and “Mr. Wendel.”

A style of music was in the making that would link suburban white boys who smoked weed to Bob Marley to inner-city jacks raised on Kurtis Blow and Sugar Hill.

But nothing ever came of hip-hop soul.

Arrested Development was a thing of the past before it ever had a chance to be the thing of the future.

Hip-hop continued to expand, but never deeper into the soulful sounds of reggae.

Citizen King takes everything Urban Dance Squad and Arrested Development built and drags it down the post-Rage rap-rock alley paved by Limp Bizkit and “Pretty Fly”-era Offspring.

Fresh from the city that raised guitar pioneer Les Paul — Milwaukee, Wis. — Citizen King is the Midwest’s answer to Soul Coughing. (“Smokescreen,” a musical platter of sampled sounds and smooth raps, is the perfect sidekick to “Super Bon Bon.”)

Much of “Mobile Estates'” backbone is multi-layered with funky bass grooves and catchy samples enhanced by raps with actual tone quality.

“Long Walk Home,” in particular, with its Sublime-style opening, “To the tin pan alley in the dead of the night …,” showcases frontman Matt Sims’ rich vocal approach.

Much like the late Bradley Nowell, it is not as much what falls from Sims’ lips but how it falls and where it lands.

On “Better Days (And the Bottom Drops Out),” the band’s sizzling new single, Sims sings “I’ve seen better days” with the same kind of feeling Speech creatively weaved into “Mr. Wendel.”

At a time when hip-hop outbreaks are bordering on too freaky, Citizen King manages to break new ground and keep it real at the same time.

Hip-hop fusion has a new landmark in “Mobile Estates.”

4 1/2 stars out of five

— Corey Moss

“Metasexual”

Joydrop

The latest offering from Joydrop leaves as big of an impression as an ant’s butt in a La-Z-Boy. No matter how hard one tries, getting some kind of a bearing on this album is impossible.

Listening to “Metasexual,” I realized how Captain Kirk felt all those times he would go to a strange, alien world and his tricorder wouldn’t work. I felt lost, confused and hoping somebody would come by in a shuttle to pick my ass up and get me out of there.

At least in “Star Trek” if you were wearing a red shirt you could expect someone to come along and kill you before things got too involved. But with this thing, I just feel like a Klingon bride on her wedding night.

There is a sound I can’t put my finger on — nasty, meaningless growling and a fierce pounding sensation that won’t stop.

There is something alien on this album, and far from making me want to make contact, I want to set my phaser to kill, or throw it in a wormhole or something.

If only I had a spaceship, I could fly around the sun really fast. I could go back in time and tell Joydrop not to bother making this album. On my way back, I’d grab a couple of whales or something else that would make a difference.

Like so many other things in this world, “Metasexual” isn’t bad or good — just indifferent. The sound is on the soft side, but it doesn’t seemed to be influenced by folk or classic rock.

It isn’t particularly alternative. It has a really undefined, “college-bar-band-fronted-by-a-female-music-major” quality about it that screams, “Chuck me into Lake LaVerne.”

Back to the Trekker metaphors, there was an episode of the old show where the Enterprise picked up some hippies and had that jam session with Mr. Spock. Remember that music they played? Of course you don’t, and that music was much more interesting than this.

Life is too short to pay attention to bands that have no direction and whose meandering style doesn’t offer anything either.

1 star out of five

— Greg Jerrett

“Hot Rod Deluxe”

Ruby Joe

Ruby Joe is pure American rock ‘n’roll with a religious message — otherwise known as Christian rockabilly.

Original to say the most, interesting to say the least.

“The Kid” is the lead vocalist, but all the band members sing backup, which is always a nice touch on a rock record.

Lyrics are the band’s main weakness, as most of them are based on Bible verses. The group has a hard time making its message creative, smooth or sly.

Ruby Joe’s instruments include a basic lead and rhythm guitar, bass and drums. The band is also accompanied by horn players and a piano player on songs such as “Foo Foo Flirt” and “Flames.”

With the exception of “Little Angel,” all of the songs have a fast, upbeat style. Simple bass lines, catchy rhythm guitars and fast solo guitar playing are what this band is all about.

Although Ruby Joe has explosive energy, diversity is lacking. After a couple songs, the CD becomes as boring and predictable as a “Road Rules” marathon.

The best song on this album is “Self-righteous Stomp.” Although the name is a bit corny, the music has a catchy beat, as well as some colorful guitar work.

Although the message is definitely religious, the lyrics don’t take a fire-and-brimstone approach. Instead, the album provides a new way of hearing an old message.

2 stars out of five

— Abram Hardinge

“Mind in a Spin”

Three Down Low

A lot of good things come from Minnesota: hotdish, Jell-O salad, crappies, arctic cold fronts. Now, Three Down Low joins that prestigious lineup.

This power quartet from Minneapolis is not entirely unlike The Buzzcocks. The band has that same irreverent, low-tech, pop-punk feel that makes your toe tap and every once in a while shocks you, but not too much.

Mostly it gets in your head. The parts that are supposed to make you want to sing them actually make you want to sing them. It’s like music working the way it was meant to work: on a gut level. You don’t know why you like it, you just do.

The music is surprisingly simple, as are the lyrics. Often the chords and chorus repeat. This isn’t boring or obnoxious. Rather, it is reminiscent of an older style of doing things. Buddy Holly didn’t play much more than three chords either. The comparison doesn’t go much farther than that.

If comparisons should be drawn, let’s go back to that Buzzcocks thing for moment. This album makes me think of the first time I ever heard “Ever Fallen In Love (With Someone You Shouldn’t’ve).”

There is an innocent quality with a rough edge. Something plaintive in the way these guys sing about love and change says, “We’re rough and tumble, ready for action, and we have a sensitive side that is sweet without making you want to vomit all over your shoes.” If and when this band starts getting radio play, I would say “Change” is the track that should go first.

The tempo is a bit slower than old-school punk, and there is a definite twanginess to the guitars which represents that Midwest sound we like so well ’round these parts.

It paints a picture of wide-open spaces that leave the anxiousness of other music scenes behind. There isn’t much of that nerves rubbed-raw effect you get from post-punk screamfests that beat you to death with angst.

Three Down Low is close enough to come to our neck of the woods and well worth checking out.

3 stars out of five

— Greg Jerrett