Born in Montreal 46 years ago to parents originally from Haiti, poly-instrumentalist Jowee Omicil made a name for himself in France in the mid-2010s by masterfully incarnating the “Poetics of Relation”, through a series of hybrid and proudly multiculturalist projects, that, according to poet Édouard Glissant of Martinique, fuel the motor of creole thought and its syncretic aesthetic. Now Omicil creates a true masterpiece, in the form of SpirituaL HeaLinG: Bwa KayiMan FreedoM Suite, an album inspired by the legendary Bois Caïman ceremony that inaugurated Haiti’s first large-scale collective uprising against slavery on August 14, 1791. It’s a political and poetic manifesto, synthesising as if by magic the art of recycling, of collage, and of overall blending that has characterised and underpinned his artistic expression since the very beginning. Surrounded by musicians who belong, in differing degrees, to the Caribbean diaspora (Randy Kerber and Jonathan Jurion on piano and keyboard, Jendah Manga on electric bass, Arnaud Dolmen and Yoann Danier on drums and percussion), Jowee Omicil, going effortlessly from alto sax to bass clarinet, from horn to flute, sets out on a long and passionate collective improvisation, split apart post-recording into 21 tracks, and presented as the many facets and lines of flight of a single ritual ceremony. Dramatically extending his territory by multiplying shifting zones of exchange and friction at its borders, where styles and genres penetrate one another in unprecedented hybridizations (one hears not only the ghosts of Don Cherry, Miles Davis, Rashaan Roland Kirk, and John Coltrane, but also the distorted echoes of creole music past and present), this bewitching suite ends up brilliantly reaffirming the simultaneously composite and syncretic beauty of our globalised humanity. © Stéphane Ollivier/Qobuz      

A real one-in-a-million from a little lost town in North Carolina, Jermaine Cole has become a big beast of world hip hop with an ascetic, old-timey, demanding, solitary musical output. Over time, J. Cole has become the standard bearer for a lost authenticity, for unflagging longevity and an intriguing attention to detail set against the merry-go-round of amnesiac instant entertainment. After a more introspective 4 Your Eyez Only which was almost chamber music, the rapper is offering up KOD, a work with more contemporary ambitions.In his unceasing quest for consciousness, J.Cole has set himself up as a beacon in the night for new generations. At the base of KOD is the lifeblood of addiction: drugs, money, social media, celebrity, violence, sex, infidelity... The rapper sweeps away all of our society's compulsions, making something of a self-criticism along the way. Everyone gets hauled over the coals and brought down a peg.More modern than it sounds, J. Cole's music has come out of his comfort zone to relay his message. But the resolutely jazz, intimate moments are the most successful. Among these, the ironic Kevin's Heart deals with the media frenzy over Kevin Hart's infidelities, which fell between voyeurism and identification. This approach, full of contrast, is also found on the striking Window Pain, which deals with gun culture in a mood of anger and revenge. Always marked by spirituality, J. Cole proves that he's more than just the Jiminy Cricket of the moment by renewing his formula. The authentic artisan of deep attention has got some great days ahead of him. © Aurélien Chapuis/Qobuz

A real one-in-a-million from a little lost town in North Carolina, Jermaine Cole has become a big beast of world hip hop with an ascetic, old-timey, demanding, solitary musical output. Over time, J. Cole has become the standard bearer for a lost authenticity, for unflagging longevity and an intriguing attention to detail set against the merry-go-round of amnesiac instant entertainment. After a more introspective 4 Your Eyez Only which was almost chamber music, the rapper is offering up KOD, a work with more contemporary ambitions.In his unceasing quest for consciousness, J.Cole has set himself up as a beacon in the night for new generations. At the base of KOD is the lifeblood of addiction: drugs, money, social media, celebrity, violence, sex, infidelity... The rapper sweeps away all of our society's compulsions, making something of a self-criticism along the way. Everyone gets hauled over the coals and brought down a peg.More modern than it sounds, J. Cole's music has come out of his comfort zone to relay his message. But the resolutely jazz, intimate moments are the most successful. Among these, the ironic Kevin's Heart deals with the media frenzy over Kevin Hart's infidelities, which fell between voyeurism and identification. This approach, full of contrast, is also found on the striking Window Pain, which deals with gun culture in a mood of anger and revenge. Always marked by spirituality, J. Cole proves that he's more than just the Jiminy Cricket of the moment by renewing his formula. The authentic artisan of deep attention has got some great days ahead of him. © Aurélien Chapuis/Qobuz

A just and proper introduction to Kitchens of Distinction would take up enough room to fill out, oh, about four CDs. This is because, in the end, a convincing argument could be made for each album's status as the band's true best. This disc, Capsule: The Best of KOD 1988-94 -- no doubt a hair-splitting one to piece together -- does make for the second-best place to start, even though it makes the grave mistake of omitting "4 Men," a single that wrapped up all the group's strengths, and all the pain that desire can inflict, in one feverish shot. Rightfully so, the compilation touches upon each of the albums without heavily tilting the favor toward any one in particular -- three songs apiece appear from the first two albums, and five apiece are included from the last two. Excepting the popular success that was so deserved, this trio had everything: a sorcerer of a guitarist who could propel you over the clouds and then, seconds later, dunk you leagues deep into the ocean; a lively rhythm section that could emit a graceful force as well as whip up a thick, dubby underbelly; and a songwriter whose lyrics were, and still are, fit to be bound and gilded. While it's true that the Kitchens had numerous peers and a few antecedents, none of them quite approached their mix of compelling songcraft and dazzling atmospheric effects, which were never accentuated to hide instrumental shortcomings. The first 2500 copies of the set came with a second disc of B-sides and radio-session versions, several of which wouldn't be undeserving of first-disc placement -- see the alternately dreary and blissful storms of "Glittery Dust," and the anti-Thatcher "Margaret's Injection," in particular, along with the 12" (albeit inferior) version of "4 Men." In fact, you might as well see everything else while you're at it.© Andy Kellman /TiVo

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Remarkably, Tech N9ne's second release of 2009 is as driven, ambitious, and satisfying as his first, the collaboration filled Sickology 101. The big difference here is that K.O.D. is a concept album at its core, telling the story of Tech was the "King of Darkness" and dividing it into three acts: Anger, Madness, and The Hole. Coming before the official intro, the opening "Show Me a God" is one giant highlight of a prelude as Tech deals with his mother's failing health and offers a more humble examination of despair than the heavy-handed epic that follows. Guests Three 6 Mafia prove a perfect choice to set the tone with their eerie work on "Demons," while the fantastic foursome of Big Scoob, Kutt Calhoun, Skatterman, and Bumpy Knuckles are just as welcome on Tech's version of guys night out, "B. Boy." It gets shockingly dark from here, with victims being thrown "In the Trunk," while past acquaintances are addressed in "Killing You," but you don't come to a Tech N9ne album for sunshine and light. Fans who feed on the rapper's Eminem-meets-Freddy Krueger style are going to find that Tech is communicating his inner demons as vividly as ever, and that the dark carnival music still holds strong with returning favorites Ruben Armstrong, YoungFyre, and Robert Rebeck handling most of the production.© David Jeffries /TiVo

A real one-in-a-million from a little lost town in North Carolina, Jermaine Cole has become a big beast of world hip hop with an ascetic, old-timey, demanding, solitary musical output. Over time, J. Cole has become the standard bearer for a lost authenticity, for unflagging longevity and an intriguing attention to detail set against the merry-go-round of amnesiac instant entertainment. After a more introspective 4 Your Eyez Only which was almost chamber music, the rapper is offering up KOD, a work with more contemporary ambitions.In his unceasing quest for consciousness, J.Cole has set himself up as a beacon in the night for new generations. At the base of KOD is the lifeblood of addiction: drugs, money, social media, celebrity, violence, sex, infidelity... The rapper sweeps away all of our society's compulsions, making something of a self-criticism along the way. Everyone gets hauled over the coals and brought down a peg.More modern than it sounds, J. Cole's music has come out of his comfort zone to relay his message. But the resolutely jazz, intimate moments are the most successful. Among these, the ironic Kevin's Heart deals with the media frenzy over Kevin Hart's infidelities, which fell between voyeurism and identification. This approach, full of contrast, is also found on the striking Window Pain, which deals with gun culture in a mood of anger and revenge. Always marked by spirituality, J. Cole proves that he's more than just the Jiminy Cricket of the moment by renewing his formula. The authentic artisan of deep attention has got some great days ahead of him. © Aurélien Chapuis/Qobuz

If the cover of 4 Your Eyez Only didn't send a clear enough signal regarding J. Cole's disinterest in supplying listeners with an entertaining diversion, the dystopian cereal-box-look of the follow-up, replete with an obvious disclaimer, should get the point across. Moreover, the acronymic title of the rapper/producer's fifth album stands for Kids on Drugs, King Overdosed, and Kill Our Demons. Unremittingly joyless, the set is nonetheless commendable for an absence of creative compromise and reflects the time as accurately as any other contemporaneous release. It's related exclusively by an alternately cold-blooded and nearly desensitized Cole, twice present in pitched-down form as a hollowed-out addict named kiLL edward. Only one track is neither produced nor co-produced by Cole. The beats are often listless and skeletal, accessorized with bleary keyboards, fitting no one's conception of ear candy, though they complement the lyrical content. The primary theme indeed is addiction -- not only to chemicals, but to technology and consumerism as well -- with contextual allusions to its causes and bleak illustrations of its effects. Most compelling of all is "Once an Addict," a regretful reflection on struggling as a child and young man to cope with the toll heartbreak and alcohol took on his mother. Cole's few departures from the narrative method are sometimes for the worse, such as the point on "KOD" where he gets combative about the lack of guests on his records and deflates boastful rationale with some of his weakest wordplay. Two other instances conversely make for highlights. "Brackets" sharply turns from a millionaire bleating about paying taxes to a detailed treatise on who does and doesn't benefit from the process. Finale "1985 (Intro to 'The Fall Off')" is straight talk directed at a certain sect of younger commercial rappers, mixing sharp cultural commentary with condescension and guidance: "These white kids love that you don't give a fuck/'Cause that's exactly what's expected when your skin black." As the value of Cole's witticisms, and the intellect required to decrypt full meaning of his verses, continues to be debated, the increased strength in his clear-cut writing evinces promise of greater work ahead.© Andy Kellman /TiVo

An in-between EP, The Lost Scripts of K.O.D. kicks off with a remix of Tech N9ne’s highly desirable “Even though I’m still alive/Play my records like I died”-anthem, “Like I Died.” This hard-to-find cut originally appeared on the Strange Music Sampler 09, but from here on out, it's all new tracks recorded after the K.O.D. album was finished, even though they are definitely in the conceptual spirit of that parent release. Fans can even consider this an epilogue and follow the demonic K.O.D. character as he searches for “Stress Relief” on the most dramatic of tracks, goes electro on the great “00n9na,” and then looks to “go into the light” on the slow, soul-searching number “Last Sad Song.” It’s that closing number that fans will really cherish, not just for the Krizz Kaliko guest shot, but also for Tech’s willingness to try something new, which in this case, is love and happiness. © David Jeffries /TiVo