Blakroc - 'Blakroc' (V2/Cooperative) Released 07/12/09

Combining rappers with rock ‘n’ roll has been a byword for abysmal ear abuse ever since the dawn of rap-metal. For every success ala Aerosmith teaming up with Run DMC for better-than-original ‘Walk This Way’, there’s a dozen Limp Bizkits. To outweigh the fearsome drive of Public Enemy’s Slayer-sampling ‘She Watch Channel Zero’, there’s the same posse allowing Anthrax to remove every ounce of compelling menace from the seminal ‘Bring the Noise’. The summary? Chuck an MC in the vocal booth whilst a band’s churning away in the background, and prepare to cover your ears, for this ill-starred union is bound to bring out the worst in both genres.

‘Blakroc’, however, manages the get the tricky rap/rock crossover just right. That the band crafting live beats for the high-profile roster of MCs here is the Black Keys makes the project’s impressive strike-rate all the more surprising. Now that there’s anything wrong with the Akron, Ohio duo, on the contrary. But the fact that Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney have managed to venture this far from their proud roots as a single-issue movement dedicated exclusively to authentically primal gristle-blues without putting a foot wrong is a rare feat, showcasing a penchant for risk-taking and adventurousness music – regardless of genre – could do with a whole lot more of.

Then again, perhaps the Black Keys are an ideal dynamo for a platter combining hip hop and rock. If hip hop can be seen as a contemporary equivalent of the urban commentary founded on hardship and struggle that propels classic blues sides, then surely it’s logical that the one modern outfit capable of reaching the raw power of vintage blues without ever whiffing of fake mimicry is entrusted with the job of building bridges between two hitherto incompatible companions.

Theories aside, the organic, entirely sample-free (there’s only live instruments and vocals here) album’s first half is particularly powerful, with Ludacris and the late Ol’ Dirty Bastard bragging their way through the suitably slimy groove of ‘Coochie’, Mos Def taking over for the dreamy soul-funk of ‘On the Vista’ and Pharoahe Monch and Wu Tang Clan architect RZA firing on all cylinders on the bluesy (that word again) funk of ‘Dollaz & Sense’. Although the album takes a few detours to monotony towards the end, the highpoints – particularly the thrilling contrast between the melancholy psych-tinged flourishes and Wu Tang legend Raekwon’s ferocious delivery on ‘Stay Off The F***in’ Flowers’ – compensate for odd spot of idling. Give the job to the right people, and it’s clear that hip hop and rock can get along famously.