As if the man's overtly-natty nomenclature doesn't tip you off by making a note to include the words Fat and Soul in his sig, instrumentalist hip-hop head Fat Jon the Ample Soul Physician makes the kind of cruisy, smoothy, smoochy stoned-out seductivism that ruffles no feathers as it lazes and lingers lovingly and lasciviously across a stylistic bed of thrown feather-throw-cushions. Fat Jon knows the purpose to producing beautiful soul music, and across Wave Motion he keeps his American-made instrumental hip-hop as cool as the other side of the pillow, rarely raising his pulse as the set keeps a suitably groovy groove. Even when the tempo gets dangerously close to rousing the album from its slumberous state - like on "Watch Out" and "Wet Secrets" - and our weight-challenged hero lays on liberal doses of sugary instrumentation, he makes sure never to let the album slip out of its opiate mode; with the thick and syrupy soporific tone kept warm and gooey and amorously analogue. This assiduous analogous application is on hand to manifest a fantastic notion of a golden, glowing funk/soul yore, with the Sun Ra-styled nascent-African American artwork supporting such thoughts. Such an applied exercise shows Fat Jon to be true to the truth told by hip-hop's truth tellers, be they lyricist or turntablist: that hip-hop's collagist basis can be a cosmic process which can birth the most utopian macrocosm, and that hip-hop fantasy need never be limited to the ghetto fantasies of money and pussy and power. - Gravity Girl |