King Britt's mix not quite smooth as Sylk

Sylk 130
King Britt Presents Sylk 130: When the Funk Hits the Fan
Columbia/Ovum Records

King Britt is a producer extradonaire. He has worked with such musical greats as Tori Amos, Miles Davis, and Donna Lewis. Sylk 130 is a group of musicians, all with substantial credits. Many of them come from creditable groups like Digable Planets and The Roots. However, listening to the new album King Britt Presents Sylk 130: When the Funk Hits the Fan, you'd never know it.

The album refers to itself as an "E-motion picture soundtrack," and this is its biggest mistake. As a group of songs, the album stands amongst a group of average, almost-intelligent hip-hop and R&B sounds, the category that most of this genre's music falls into these days. However, this album refuses to believe that it is simply a "group of songs." Rather, it hypes itself up to be a musical experience of sorts, which makes the music that much more disappointing.

When the Funk Hits the Fan is a concept album, with snippets of dialogue in-between each track. Sounds interesting, right? Too bad the dialogues are either boring or make no sense at all. Too bad that it continues throughout each track, sometimes appearing in the middle of tracks. Too bad that in addition to this dialogue, King Britt thought he'd add sound effects, like that of a car driving down a street, throughout the album. Too bad indeed that the concept of the concept album is lost on its listeners. A reappearing theme deals with a DJ who saves lives. How? We do not know. Perhaps by giving people hope through music. Perhaps by having never played an Ace of

Base song. It's a toss up.

As far as the music itself goes, When the Funk Hits the Fan has few redeeming qualities. It is a mix of funk, spoken word, R&B, and lazy rap. Track two, "Jimmy Leans Back," an instrumental funk/jazz piece, is the best on the CD. "Gettin into it" isn't at all bad. Neither is "Season's Change," except for an extremely odd recurring background sound that is reminiscent of dying birds.

As for the worst of this CD, you may have your pick. Perhaps you'll choose "Last Night A DJ Saved my Life" or "When the Funk Hits the Fan," both of which start off rather promising, but contain such inane lyrics that it's very hard to stay positive: "When the funk hits the fan, you're bound to understand what's going down" - what the hell does that mean?

There are some nice female vocals on the album, and when the spirit moves them, the musicians show off just how over-qualified they are to work on such a mediocre album. If "When the Funk Hits the Fan" were simply instrumental, it would be great. But as is, the album is rather irritating.

If a friend of yours accidentally bought it, dub it. If you see it in the 50 cents bin at a record store (and believe me, this day is coming soon), pick it up. The graphic design of the album jacket is nice, the photographs having a funny fake-'70s edge to them, and it is worth the two quarters you spend on it. Until this happens, don't waste another second or penny on When the Funk Hits the Fan, an album that is as trite and posed as the photographs in it's jacket, yet is nothing to laugh at.