Pitchfork

No matter how far underground a hip-hop crew goes, people'll notice if they flat-out disappear. The Juggaknots-- a duo comprised of brothers Kevin and Paul Smith (aka Buddy Slim and Breezly Brewin')-- released the super-scarce vinyl-only Clear Blue Skies on Bobbito Garcia's micropress label Fondle 'Em in 1996, cut some collaborations with Company Flow and J-Treds as indie-rap supergroup Indelible MC's, and looked primed for a breakthrough when Breeze held it down as the focal point of Prince Paul's classic narrative concept record A Prince Among Thieves in 1999. But day jobs and personal lives led to a productivity decline in the early 00s, their output dwindling to a few singles and guest spots while their sole full-length lapsed out of print and vanished into the off-market world of filesharing and bootleggers. That absence necessitated a couple of measures to keep their presence felt: First, a 2003 reissue of Clear Blue Skies, dubbed Re:Release and crammed with almost a dozen unreleased tracks, and then an actual second album.

Funny thing is, indie rap's changed a bit since 96. Back when El-P was just an EP and the Stones Throw catalog could be counted on one hand, the Juggaknots were the epitome of unorthodox hip-hop, and Breeze's conscious but raw style and Buddy Slim's decayed-groove production were almost impenetrable to the uninitiated. Use Your Confusion, though, was one of the most immediate and accessible indie rap records of 2006-- partially due to the current underground scene's tendency toward the obtuse. There's few high-concept ideas on the album; cuts like "Smile" and "Liar, Liar" and "Strip Joint" are simple themes that rarely stray from what the title promises. But Breeze and new member (and Smith sister) Queen Herawin eke out some clever observations and relatable scenarios in the process: Breeze's quip that "some will say 'cheese' and the picture is something lovely/ Others say 'cheese' and I'm thinkin' government subsidy"; Herawin's reprimand of an evasive player; cracks about thong-strapped dollars helping strippers pay their cable bills. There's so few $10 words that adding 'em all up couldn't buy you a copy of the CD, and this directness gives the lyrics room to breathe and flow like an astute take on everyday thought.

Their voices are direct, too-- Breeze's cool monotone still remains intact from the days when Guru and Grand Puba were the MCs to look up to, and Herawin's poised flow sounds a bit like Jean Grae with a bit less seethe to it. (Her solo showcase, the reminiscing "Daddy's Little Girl", also succeeds as the most touching track on the record). They're augmented by a few notable guests: Slick Rick is brilliantly suave on "Vows", Nine (of "Whutcha Want?" distinction) lets his rasp rough up "Never", and Sadat X plays the bitter vet to sharp, cantankerous perfection on the reflective "30 Something" (a track more pragmatic than the concurrently-leaked Jay-Z track of the same name). The funk-gone-crooked beats-- with production duties now split between Breeze and Slim-- are modern industry standard if diverse, though the title track's "The Whole World"/"Akshon (Yeah!)" shuffle beat's an interesting departure and the guest producers (Oh No, J-Zone, B-Money, and DJ Eli) keep things moving in unpredictable directions. When it takes a decade, just coming into existence might be enough to keep a follow-up from falling into the sophomore slump, but Use Your Confusion is more than just a shot at closure-- it's a strong reestablishment of a group too good to be forgotten.