Holy Terror
Like the mythology of the fifth Beatle, tales of the first rapper are numerous and varied. The Last Poets, as a troupe of black power griots who spouted words over the wake-up call of African percussion as far back as 1968, get more than their share of original MC credit. The props, however, are partly misplaced: The B-boys to come would draw on dance sounds scratched from turntables, not the universal folk blues of the Poets. Besides, the Poets never really rapped, their verses just flowed like the banter heard everyday across 125th.Still, the connections are there: Reality-based and race- baited, the Last Poets prefigured every rhymer from Arrested Development to Ice-T. It's no surprise, then, that longstanding name checks from rap statesmen like Afrika Bambaata and Chuck D are cashed in onHoly Terror, the group's Bill Laswell-produced comeback featuring original Poets Umar Bin Hassan and Abiodun Oyewole. From "Invocation," where Oyewole calls on rappers to "get back on track," to "Last Rites," where he laments "the absence of a movement" and promises to "change that," the Poets are out to assume their long-vacant role as father rappers--or perhaps as the creators of what we might call adult hip-hop.DespiteHoly Terror's thematic consistency, the record plays like a mesh of two separate solo albums. Oyewole hangs closer to the original sound by framing his poems in melodic chants and Conga percussion, as in "Black Rage" and "If We Only Knew." Hassan, meanwhile, trades off with rapper Melle Mel to the P-funk grooves of Bootsy Collins and Bernie Worrell on tracks like "Homesick" and "Funk." The older style is the better, though the words and vision of both men are clearly timeless.--Roni Sarig