"HONKIN' ON BOBO"

"HONKIN' ON BOBO"
Aerosmith
(Columbia)
Listen to any Aerosmith song and the influence of the blues hits you so hard that it rings in your ears.
Now the band is dropping its rock pretenses with "Honkin' on Bobo," an album made up almost entirely of blues classics.
But make no mistake, this is not "Aerosmith Sings The Blues." This is one of the world's most successful rock bands making the blues explosive.
Most of the songs are re-imagined Aerosmith style, with Steven Tyler's wailing, howling vocals and Joe Perry's screaming guitar slides.
On Bo Diddley's "Road Runner," for example, Perry kicks it up a notch with a wicked, in-your-face effort that nearly makes his guitar sound like it's singing.
Tyler's rocked-out vocals nicely update Sonny Boy Williamson's "Eyesight To The Blind" and Willie Dixon's "I'm Ready."
Perhaps the band's best effort is showcased on Big Joe Williams' "Baby, Please Don't Go," which is elevated from its typical head-nodding pace to frenetic romp.
The 12 tracks feature only one new Aerosmith song, "The Grind," which is perhaps the only downside of the album. When you're writing to compete with the likes of Fred McDowell, who penned "Back Back Train" and "You Gotta Move" -- songs also featured on the album -- you have to be more than good, you have to be great. And "The Grind" simply isn't great.
With so many musical acts trying to be artsy these days (think Godsmack's unplugged album and Rod Stewart singing standards), Aerosmith managed to remember the music that inspired them and then make it their own.
"HOOD HOP"
J-Kwon
(So So Def/Arista)
Punishing beats, a strong hook and a voice with some serious street savvy have given 17-year-old J-Kwon a rap and pop hit with the white-hot single "Tipsy." So is the rest of his debut album, "Hood Hop," worth a double-take? Oh yeah.
J-Kwon says he's bent on introducing the "'hood" to "pop," and he's like Nelly with a mean streak when he raps on "Parking Lot." "I don't like to talk a lot, I got two words for you -- parking lot." Evidently that's where scores got settled during J-Kwon's admittedly rough St. Louis upbringing, which he brings to life vividly throughout the album.
There's a clean crushing bass that provides the backbone for the tracks on "Hood Hop." And there's still something a little raw about J-Kwon -- a bit unpolished -- that demands your attention. Perhaps youth, like LL Cool J back in the day, is J-Kwon's best calling card. It convinced superproducer Jermaine Dupri to cultivate J-Kwon and stick him on his So So Def label, so who's to argue?
The album is good, but "Tipsy" is hands-down the thickest rap song of this young year, as he smoothly whips together lyrics about being confident in a nightclub and swigging courtesy of a fake ID.
Amid sex themes and gunplay, it's not exactly the stuff you'll want your high school sons and daughters listening to, but try and stop 'em.
For fans of car-door rattling rap, J-Kwon's a winner.
"GOOD SIDE/BAD SIDE"
Master P
(Koch)
His musical skills may be suspect, but Master P provides excellent customer service as a businessman. Who else would give overworked critics a double album that's already reviewed itself? But the fact that P has managed to create a collection that's even half-good is astonishing. Since his career peaked in 1997 with "Ghetto Postage," he's been perpetually preoccupied -- with everything from a failed tryout for the NBA to his Percy Miller clothing line to overseeing his son Lil Romeo's career -- and his own shoddy Southern bounce tracks have reflected his disinterest.
Of course, "good" is a relative term here; Master P is still a limited rapper in both range and style. Yet he's always come up with great singles. "Them Jeans," with its hollered hook, is another winner from crunkmaster Lil Jon's seemingly bottomless bag of hits. And while neither disc is what you'd call consistent, P's Bad Side turns out to be his best, spinning off two potential hip-pop hits with singer Theresa Escolvon: "Ride For You," an atmospheric ode to thug friendship; and "Com.4," a little sing-along that's supposed to be a joke but is actually a pretty compelling vehicle for P's Louisiana drawl.
MAGIC AND MEDICINE
The Coral
(Columbia)
With its latest album, "Magic and Medicine," the Coral gets its hands on grooves left over from the British Invasion and tweaks them for modern audiences. The fluorescent "Laugh-In" style sensibilities of the '60s are swapped for more pensive, earth-toned moods, like the first song. "In the Forest." It's an unhappy update on the Turtles' "So Happy Together," except there's a doomed female character prone to sitting in cemeteries awaiting her own death.
Although the rest of the album isn't quite as dark, the subject matter is decidedly less chipper in spots than the tunes and instrumentation suggest. "Don't Think You're the First" sounds like the Zombies in their prime, but the lyric seems intent on crushing the excitement of new love with world-wearied cynicism: "Do I love you?/Yes I love you/Or I wouldn't tell you so/Don't think you're the first."
During lighter moments, like "Eskimo Lament," the album is satisfying but ultimately too conscious of its influences. Attempting to re-spin "Revolver" or add new bounce to "Rubber Soul" is a tricky proposition. Not for lack of skill or effort, the Coral's magical medicine tastes a little flat.
"FINALLY WOKEN"
Jem
(ATO)
Until recently, there was an open slot on the pop spectrum, somewhere between Dido and Liz Phair, for a female singer-songwriter with sharp hook instincts, an ear for looped rhythm programming and a slightly optimistic outlook.
With the engrossing, low-key "Finally Woken," emerging British talent Jem pretty much fills that vacancy.
The best tracks are cool collages that work on several levels. The opener, "They," starts with an almost comical '50s easy-listening chorale, and when Jem wanders through, pondering questions about "who makes the rules," the contrast is jarring and effective.
The basic message of the title track echoes the buoyant horizons of the Studio One '60s -- "Today is the first day of the rest of your life" repeats several times -- but the musical embellishments include lugubrious bass clarinet and a snapping beat borrowed from acid-jazz.
Jem doesn't live on Melancholy Lane all the time. She's got a breezy way of singing that works whether she's dissecting heartbreak or advocating, on the pop gem "Just a Ride," lightening up as a life strategy.