I’m a sucker for grimy, heady funk and psychedelic soul, and Monophonics, from San Francisco, cracked my brain open like an egg when I discovered their Stax-nasty jams—thick or crunchy or fuzzy bass textures, funky wailing organ, wet wah-wah guitar and trippy rock riffs, a lead singer whose soulful howls get you on board from the get-go, a Morricone-channeling cinematic drama—about seven years ago. Live, the music embraces and engulfs, spurring an immediate stank-face get-down. And by that, I mean, you can’t help but move your ass. RIYL: Adrian Younge, Sly & the Family Stone. by Leilani Polk