MUSIC REVIEW:

GFE: “Bigger” Grows on You

On stage at Iron Horse

Bigger, just one of a slew of independent releases from GFE’s nine-member ensemble, relies primarily on funk and rap but incorporates snippets of spacey jam-band rock, Latin guitar, and the Sixties acid-drenched sounds of Cream. For the most part Bigger is reminiscent of an earlier 311, stripped of the reggae vibe and vocal harmonies. The rap styles interspersed in the album show influences that range from the skate-core vocals of Shelter, to Snoop Dogg and Eminem, to the sing-songy flightiness of Del tha Funky Homosapien.

The cover art--a conglomerate of rainbow-colored geometric shapes and graffiti eyeballs, plus a gratuitous marijuana bud on the CD itself--leads one to expect ten-minute long psychedelic grooves. On the contrary, the album seems more like a combination of three totally separate EPs.

The first half of the album leans heavily on funk/rap fusion, but it’s really the infectious beats that drive these tracks. The lyrics flow with quickness and spontaneity and the rhymes are intelligent but lack wit. We even get a spitfire round of Bush-bashing as well as a stab at war-supportive jingoism on “Pure Light”: “Nationalism on the rise/ it’s American pride/ all disbelievers die... It all starts with a short look at George Bush/ unelected president from a line of born crooks.”

But GFE remain smart, developing the song by factually rapping the connection between the Bush fortune and Arab oil interests. These guys aren't just whiners: they've actually done their current events homework.

The introduction to “Children of the City” incorporates bleating car horns and shouting that recall the sounds Stevie Wonder used on “Living for the City” back in 1973 on Innervisions. “Children” then progresses from an easy bongo groove grounded by a tight snare and menacing baseline to a set of gritty Black Sabbath-like chords.

Still, Bigger doesn't convey the “for-the-sake-of-a-good-time” spirit of funk until the eternally rainbow-haired George Clinton arrives midway through the album for a smoking little tribute to marijuana on “Everybody Get High”. The cluster of seven songs that follow are really what makes this album worth listening to. Most notable is “Lamp Oil”, a trippy psychedelic tune with vocals reminiscent of David Byrne. It’s a happy break from the rest of the album’s sound, proving that GFE is about enjoying music more than staking out a place in a restrictive genre.

Granola Funk Express

The album closes with a pair of stoner rock jams that are clearly out of place, though they serve as vessels for a set of inspired guitar solos and a brief interlude of sonic experimentation. And don't forget the nowadays-obligatory hidden track, which finally ties in to some reggae roots and showcases a bit more of the rattling percussion that might have been better welcomed in earlier tracks.

The songs here are crafted for live sound. While the album is relatively easy on the ears, it doesn't seem as poignant without the ambience of a smoke-filled club where the vibrations of the bass notes are sure to induce a wave of spontaneous shoulder-rolling and bouncing knees. It’s likely that GFE felt restrained in the confines of the studio without being able to feed off the reactions of the crowd. After all, funk depends on a symbiosis between band and audience.

Catch the act unrestrained tonight at the Funk Box at 9pm.