“Shaolin Monk Motherfunk” sees a smooth jazz groove yield to scat singing and chunky synths. Nai, however, has a remarkable ability to tie everything together, and the various tones and nuances she projects become a focal point, with her quirky lyrics often falling in the peripheral. To be fair, it is, somewhat with song titles like “Shaolin Monk Motherfunk” and “Only All the Time: Making Friends with Studio Owl”, we aren’t expecting straightforwardness. With an album as stylistically all over the place, channeling jazz fusion, soul, R&B, and prog, one might expect an elaborate concept to match. If the comically menacing cover bodes true, one can expect playful nostalgia, a myriad of flavours, and bizarre, worldly flair. It’s this magical quality that makes Weapon difficult to justify to others on an emotional level, as what’s conveyed is often too good for clinical decoding, and its maze-like rejoicing is worth staying lost in for its seventy-minute runtime. Vocalist/guitarist Nai Palm’s delivery is both mystical and approachable - often confusing, but easily relatable in a visceral sense. Perhaps the most exciting recent act to reinvigorate elements of soul music, they duly pay respects while striving to push it skyward, collecting many postcards along the way from God-knows-where. Australian quartet Hiatus Kaiyote take its title to heart, cycling through their arsenal, unfettered by conventions. Review Summary: Multi-dimensional, polyrhythmic food for the soul.Ĭhoose Your Weapon is boundless.
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