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Elam McKnight's Supa Dupa Good is filled and singin', fat flat foot stompin' and leering dirty preachin'grooves that roll and tumble and crawl their way thru fifty-some years of red dirt, swampy, back porch blues, basement funque, rattle trunk hip-hop haze, deep woods hunch, small town 'tonk n' juke and big city rock and swagger. Mr. Mcknight filters it through well worn rough cotton sugar and grit sacks and tennesee sun and sweat to deliver up a sound that's both familiar, full bodied, refreshing and fine.
It's good time any night party music as well as sitting home drinkin' and thinkin' music. Even when Mr. Mcknight gets all goofy and lecherous as on his ode to Pam Grier you'll still raise your cell phone (the new lighter) and rocks glass in agreement and respect. You'll do the same for his tributes to Junior Kimbrough,R.L. Burnside,Othar Turner, and other important mighty men. Mr. Mcknight's thing just gets bigger, hotter, deeper and heavier with each album and this release is far better than the title suggests. Is it perfect? Hell No. Note to Mr. McKnight: The Rap game might not be your forte. But who'd want to listen to perfect anyway? Not me. At 16 tracks it's a full grown-ass big man hungry dinner plate with some lumps in the taters, some burned edges on the meats (but plenty of bacon and salt in the greens!), and xtra greasy gravy plus dessert,baby. Get yrself some extra napkins buddy. It's gonna get on y'all.
Disclosure: Mr. Mcknight gives me a shout out alongside many others on the last track Big Daddy's Lament. I had no idea of this until I heard the album but in no way does that colour my opinion. If it sucked I gar-on-tee you would not be readin' this on account of I do not write about suck.