by Dave Segal

DIZZEE RASCAL: Boy in da Corner (XL/Matador; www.xl-recordings.com)

Dizzee Rascal is the greatest thing to happen to music since the microphone. Or so you'd think after perusing the critical fellatio administered to this 18-year-old Brit's debut disc, which won Britain's 2003 Mercury Music Prize. But Boy in da Corner has too many flaws to merit such hype. First, Diz's voice sounds like a chicken (one often on the verge of tears) clucking with a mouthful of mashed potatoes. Yes, it's a unique voice, but it gets annoying after, say, 30 minutes. Second, Boy is funk-deficient; ironically, the funkiest, catchiest track, "Fix Up, Look Sharp," relies on a sample of hard-rock has-been Billy Squier's "Big Beat." Still, lyrically, at least half of Boy cuts to the bone: Diz has done a lot of living in his brief life. His verses boast more pathos and depth than the Streets, and Diz (with help from Wiley, Taz, and others) also delivers some truly strange beats and textures that personify the dynamics and paranoia of East London thug life. A filthy, dread-saturated mutation of UK garage, Boy bursts with unique flows, distinctive (though often leaden) rhythms, and mock-Oriental xylophone motifs; respect to Dizzee for exploding outta da box with such original flavor--even if that flavor tastes dodgy some of the time. Still, I eagerly await his next move.

LCD SOUNDSYSTEM: Yeah EP (DFA; www.dfarecords.com)

With Yeah, LCD Soundsystem (led by James Murphy) top the universally loved "Losing My Edge," the peak of "disco-punk." "Yeah (Crass Version)" is loose-limbed, Liquid Liquid-like funk that gradually accelerates into an acid-squelch/analog-bleepin'/conga-poundin' jam that's as euphoric as the Jetsons theme song. "Yeah (Pretentious Version)" cruises out of the gate like a blaxploitation version of Neu!'s "Hallogallo" (a funky motorik rhythm you want to last forever). LCD stretch out like session pros on a mellow high, vamping on a pothole-free groove embroidered with droning Irmin Schmidt organ, chicken-scratch-wah guitar, a purring bass line, and, later, clattering percussion, Herbie Hancock ca. 1972 keyboards, and more burning-elastic twang from the 303 (a lot happens during the song's 11 minutes). Listening to this, you imagine yourself zipping down the autobahn in a canary-yellow Benz, feeling like a million deutsche marks. I plan to use Yeah as a performance-enhancing drug throughout 2004.