From the jump, Slum Village have always been centered around three things: ill beats, boastful raps, and love songs more horny and cavalier than an army of porn bots. The tuneful intricacies of producer and founding member J Dilla’s music had such a gravitational pull at the Detroit group’s peak, they often overshadowed just how erotic the music could be. On Fan-Tas-Tic Vol. 1’s “The Look of Love, Pt. 1,” pattering drums and serene guitar strums cushion rappers and co-founders Baatin and T3’s thirst (“Your fragrance got me losing consciousness/Your stance got me unbuckling my fucking pants”). T3’s verse on the 2015 cut “Love Is” gets even more direct; it opens with a bluster about being inspired to write after getting some good head. Even after several lineup changes and the deaths of Dilla in 2006 and Baatin in 2009, the SV ethos never faltered. With T3 still at the helm, the group remains committed to the groove: They continue to be occasionally thoughtful, often rock-the-mic competitive, and always willing to bet on a piece of strange.
F.U.N., SV’s tenth studio album and their first since 2015’s Yes!, stays true to that bold player spirit while still being something of a pivot for the group, now a duo made up of T3 and the rapper-producer Young RJ. It started out as a more “traditional” SV album with sample-based beats, but in a press release, RJ said the pair “felt like that was boring.” Instead, RJ—who has production credits on every song—leaned toward disco and funk, incorporating live instruments and presets to create a sound that pays tribute to their past, mixing the lush exuberance of the Gap Band with the dirty swing of Synth or Soul-era Black Milk. That sounds like a moonshot on paper, but SV keeps things as loose as they always have, while bringing new voices and ideas into the fold. The group transitioned from young bachelors on the prowl to frisky, sauced uncles in silk shirts and slides at the kickback some time ago, but F.U.N. slathers a funky coat of paint onto their aesthetic.
Groove is an essential part of the SV sound, and while they’ve always been versatile with gritty and soulful music, F.U.N. pops with a colorful energy that didn’t exist even back in their scrappier days. “All Live” gives their patented club-hopping a new context, with vibrant horns and luscious bass and synths flashing like tri-color flood lights. T3 and RJ are energetic, even peppy, as they drop references to Mase and Rubi Rose over the satin production. “All Live Pt. 2.” brings in harder drums and piano stabs for longtime collaborator Phat Kat to warn rappers that he’ll abort them like Roe v. Wade. This two-song suite, like the rest of the album, reframes the spit-kicking and dirty-macking sides of SV without making them look like bland revivalists or clueless trend chasers.
Not much has changed lyrically, but the fullness of RJ’s beats reanimates the group here. There’s an even mix of homages to disco and funk and the vintage head knockers they made their name on, but it’s so well-curated that it can be easy not to notice. Take the way that “To the Disco” and “Request,” both featuring contributions from British band Abstract Orchestra, flow directly into each other without harshing the transition into the jittery, Karriem Riggins-assisted “Yeah Yeah.” Or consider how the title track and “Keep Dreaming” maintain an early 2000s boom-bap aura without devolving into boring retreads. They’ve found a slightly different lane, and they seem grateful to be cruising in it.
Part of that newfound zeal also stems from the album’s features, which venture outside of their usual suspects in ways we haven’t seen since 2004’s Detroit Deli (A Taste of Detroit). Some of the guest features make sense on first glance, like Bruiser Brigade member Fat Ray barreling through “Keep Dreaming,” or genre-hopping rap emissaries like Eric Roberson (“Factor”) and Robert Glasper (“Since 92”). But many of the album’s best moments are blindsiding. Chicago rapper Brittney Carter sets the tone for the whole LP on “Welcome,” arriving with the kind of fiery verse that only comes from being summoned by industry veterans. Sango brings his breezy sensibilities to Phat Kat’s spirited verse on “All Live Pt. 2,” while Larry June offers his chill, Bay Area elegance to the dancefloor chic of “Just Like You.” SV have done their homework, recruiting the right voices to freshen up the vibes; even a so-so verse from puppy-dog rap star Cordae on “So Superb” doesn’t drag things down.
It’s been almost a decade since the last proper Slum Village album, so the fact that F.U.N. works as well as it does is a relief. Seasoned MCs take time off and often come back bitter and/or rusty, especially in rap. But while F.U.N. isn’t a genre-rocking comeback effort in the vein of A Tribe Called Quest’s We got it from Here…Thank You 4 Your service or Little Brother’s May the Lord Watch, it’s still fun to see everyone’s favorite Detroit players find their place in the present moment. Lascivious lovers like Brent Faiyaz and Cash Cobain have the hot hand in the streets and on the charts, so it’s only right that the OGs step back in the ring to remind everyone how it’s done.
