Pitchfork

De La Soul, hip-hop's perennial ugly ducklings, have often forsaken the genre's style du jour in favor of musical contrarianism. When N.W.A. and West Coast gangster nihilism hit the charts, the trio battled E and Cube's thuggery with flowers and hi-top fades. When Bad Boy had a chokehold on the industry, De La Soul countered with their Stakes Is High manifesto. Now, with bear-knit sweaters and white tees on fire-- and after Tommy Boy dropped the trio's Spitkickin' asses for lacking a thirst for commercialism-- Posdnuos, Trugoy, and Maceo explore The Grind Date.

After 15 years, many observers wondered when their DiMaggio-like fresh streak would die. The triumvirate averages three years between albums-- stemming and refitting their dark horse costumes is hardly an overnight project-- but the results are frequently worth the wait, and The Grind Date is the group's best payoff in ages.

Let's be honest: Anything Matthew Knowles (responsible for his booty-hopping progeny Beyonce and owner of De La's new home Sanctuary Union) touches, is vinyl dynamite. Moreover, any album that kicks off with Jermaine Jackson's handiwork has genius written all over it. But frequent De La collaborator Supa Dave West's opening volley only serves as the jumpoff for a producer home run derby, and De La Soul wisely allow their all-county beatmaking team (Madlib, 9th Wonder, Jay Dee, and the aforementioned Supa Dave, among others) to craft a vehicle on which the trio can again revamp their style.

The third installment of the Art Official Intelligence series was envisioned as a DJ album before Tommy Boy canned it. The Grind Date inherits that project's propensity for organic production, as De La often wisely let the beats steep. On "Verbal Clap", Jay Dee pushes a sparse, apocalyptic swirl that lacks his trademark sound but buzzes with intensity. The ghostly keys and muted snare so effectively captivate the listener that Pos, Maceo, and Dave are willingly obscured. Even Ghostface displays a moment of weakness when he struggles to match the triumphant brass on Supa Dave West's "He Comes" (although Tony Sparks does manage to reclaim his stature with shoutouts to Uday and Qusay).

Of course, De La delivers their lyrical goods via FreshDirect with the comfort and ease of well-seasoned veterans. The title track serves as the album's centerpiece as Pos and Dave command the mic with authority and finesse. Dave spits, "Meat grind, street grind, whatever the beast/ I'ma take it at the horns til the pinky toe calls." Pos and Maceo's flexibility is uncanny as they retrofit their cadences to swing tracks into coalescence. Madlib's disjointed vibes and tinkling glass on "Shopping Bags" blend seamlessly with Pos' stuttering memo re: the perils of gold-diggers: "She say jump/ You scream, 'Okay, I'm reloaded!'/ Nigga, you shooting blanks." They even manage to draw the otherwise irrelevant Carl Thomas into the den of smoothness.

As Yummy croons "I never can say goodbye" on "No", De La Soul echoes the sentiment. The Grind Date brings together an unimaginable team of the underground's hottest producers and meshes their idiosyncrasies without dissidence. But more importantly, if this turns out to be the trio's final record, they'll have gone out proud, with unshakeable confidence and determination.