mixtape maestro (2.0)

Of the sort who believe that R&B is dead? Well, that’s only because you’re not getting your soul fix from the right sources…real-deal sources like the Platinum Pied Pipers, the non-R. Kelly-affiliated (you can breathe a sigh of relief, now) teaming of Detroit musician/ production duo Waajeed and Saadiq.

After raising eyebrows and catching eardrums with one-off creations like their fuzzy, slow-funk recreation of Burt Bacharach’s classic “The Look of Love”, PPP unleashed something the soul junkie crowd were desperately in search of with the 2005 full-length Triple P, a core-soothing collection of wondrously crafted aural chocolate that drew heavy praise from various corners of the globe.

Preceding their recently released (and even more acclaimed) sophomore album, Abundance, PPP gave fans a belated Christmas gift with the outtakes and remixes-adorned Abundance Mixtape (which you can download for FREE HERE), highlighted by a revised treatment of their cover of Paul Simon’s oft-re-referenced ’76 No. 1 “50 Ways To Leave Your Lover”.

Current R&B fave Raheem DeVaughn fronts this stellar new version, his eased croon applying the perfect delicate touch to the Pipers’ cool Latin-jazz soundbed. Those not moved into a snapping frenzy by this tune’s breezy hi-hat sizzle and jammy synthesizer doodling need to check their pulse immediately.

DL: “50 Ways To Leave Your Lover (Paul Simon Cover)” (alt)

Always a sucker for a great cover, Liverpool indie Hot Club De Paris earn my vote by taking us back to Graceland (and, in conjunction, reminding us how funny Chevy Chase used to be) with their spot-on rendition of the Paul Simon 1986-7 hit “You Can Call Me Al”.

Perfectly recreating that classic African-tinged bass groove, pre-”Young Folks” whistle solo and those snaky guitar melodies (we do lose the hook’s stabbing horns to passable fretwork, though), Hot Club are so faithful in their take, it’s like biting into a Twinkie for the first time all over again. Singer Paul Rafferty’s delightful consonant-omitting accent adds a punk-ish tone in place of Simon’s laidback conversational delivery, but the glowing brilliance of this twenty-year-old pop treasure is dutifully retained nonetheless. Had forgotten how cool Paul Simon could be.

Listen: “You Can Call Me Al”