Inna City Pressure
Derivative. Pretentious. Just as full of itself as it can be. Funky chicken ghetto waltzes, as sung by somebody who takes himself far FAR too seriously and fancies himself quite the religio/politico/philosophic font of wisdom. The really sad part is that the backing music isn't half bad, and if the good Doctor would just shut the fuck up, it might qualify as party music for stoned teenagers. Somewhere, people are hanging on this guy's every word.
Mutant Sound System, 67 Irving Place, 3rd Floor, New York, NY 10033; http://www.mutantbeat.com