Reviews of new releases from Rawkus, The Evil Tambourines, and Luscious Jackson.     Luscious Jackson Electric Honey (Grand Royal) http://www.grandroyal.com/ Of related interest: The Waitresses, Roxanne Shanté, early Madonna The first time Luscious Jackson played in Portland, the crowd booed. The ladies unleashed their brand of boss-street pop, and the Rose City audience wasn't ready. When LJ came around again, in support of Natural Ingredients, the crowd danced. Portland got wise--and it's no wonder. Natural Ingredients was saturated with the kind of seductive beat-'n'-rap flow that sparks impromptu block parties. By the time Fever In Fever Out came around, this Jackson Four had officially arrived. A Gap commercial later and one band member down (keyboardist Vivian Trimble, the lone blonde, left to "pursue other projects"), LJ now gives us Electric Honey. Big-haired Gaby still drawls away with her Jersey-girl rap ("Nervous Breakthrough," "Sexy Hypnotist" and "Gypsy" are the tracks you'll put on your dance mix tape), and the album also boasts power-rocker tunes ("Fantastic Fabulous," a raucous Deborah Harry tribute complete with requisite answering-machine message outtake). We still get those slightly embarrassing ballads ("Beloved" is a trip down Lilith Fair lane), but when LJ hits Portland again this summer with the Sarah McLachlan posse, boos don't seem likely to be in the cards. Caryn B. Brooks     The Evil Tambourines Library Nation (Sub Pop) http://www.subpop.com/ Of related interest: Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, Some Velvet Sidewalk, Quintron, Money Mark Once-grunge Sub Pop tries out new beats on this scatterbrained album, as the Evil Tambourines bang away at hip-hop, indie rock, spoken word and the role of the library as a postmodern repository of knowledge. Library Nation is not a well-stirred genre-hopping cocktail but the purple goo you get when you mix too many kinds of soda. Tasty Megaman-inspired synth beats deserve better than lyrical gems like "Forget about the bad times/Forget about the sad times." The production could pass for Ninja Tune, but the vocals are strictly Archies. For 15-second spells, certain tracks recall Digable Planets B-sides or accomplished Belle and Sebastian imitators. Beatnik falsettos dominate the rest. Every few minutes, an old-school basso profundo awakes like a sleepy bear, only to grumble a few cliches before stumbling back into hibernation. I kept waiting for Fred Flintstone to grab the mic and remind me how he loved Fruity Pebbles in a major way. Hip-hop fusion works best when established, respected artists (say, Run-DMC, DJ Apollo and Killah Priest) lead the way. Those with the courage to strike out alone often end up sounding like Insane Clown Posse or the Evil Tambourines. Embarrassing. Matt Schwartz     Various Artists Rawkus Presents SoundBombing II Mixed by J-Rocc and Babu of the World Famous Beat Junkies (Rawkus) http://www.rawkus.com/ Of related interest: Brand Nubian, Black Star, Common Rawkus, a label dedicated to preserving the essence of hip-hop, strikes gold. This comp contains dirty, head-bobbing beats and raw, raw, raw MCs. Yes, Company Flow's "Patriotism" is terrible, and Eminem's Mighty Mouse-sounding turn at the mic on "Any Man" grates through the earhole, but the rest of the CD is tight like gnat booty. Sucka MCs get chopped to pieces on the High and Mighty's lively "B-Boy Document 99." Pos Plug Won drops an ill beat on "Crosstown Beef" as the Gods of Medina Green spit a tale of everyday life in the 'hood. Sir Menelik, Grand Puba and Sadat X profess Islamic principles, the spiritual foundation of hip-hop culture, over DJ Spinna's mellow party cut "7XL." Pharoahe Monch fully exercises his right to free speech on "Mayor," a scorching critique of N.Y.C.'s Rudy Giuliani. The minute-long "Brooklyn Hard Rock" rolls at a drunken pace while Thirstin Howl III rips the mic with "Don't play with a full deck/as positive as my drug urine test/my rhymes do to your brain what bullets do to flesh." Don't be stupid and miss this one. SoundBombing II is the shit, baby paw. H.V. Claytor Jr. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Willamette Week | originally published June 23, 1999