Javelin: No Mas

posted by dpm on 09/01/2010


            Growing up beneath the tall shadows of Philly skyscrapers, and cutting my punk teeth skateboarding on the concrete curves of Love Park whenever I had the cajones to do so, I often get nostalgic whenever I head home to visit the folks and happen upon my old haunts. You know that head space you get it where everything around you slows to the speed of the camera eye, while lilting beats resonate in the air around you?—Well, freaks of the industry, Javelin, with their shaken-not-stirred blend of musical hallucinations, has returned us to those riot time daydreams once again.
No Mas, released in April of 2010, has surfaced as an albums that critics and recreational listeners alike agree is going to place Javelin as one of hip-hop’s vanguard elite. Their approach to re-creating a plateful o’ heaven is genius—They’ve heisted the best parts of disco-era dance music, slathered on a thick layer of dirty funk and kaledescopic eloquence, and BLAM-O!, you’ve got the bedrock for their tasty boombox recipe. Songs like the buttery intro “Vibrationz”, the tic-tac R&B vocals of “Mossy Woodland” and the Motown masterpeice “Intervale Themes” and “Susie Cues” place the bar quite high on this album, while the gaps between are over-flowing with several standout tracks. 
            When I first heard the Brooklyn-by-way-of-Providence-based duo, Javelin, I immediately thought of two climbing scenarios where their music would serve as the perfect backdrop. The first was this: A gaggle of pedestrians gawking at a couple of greased up Joey Bagadonuts buildering lengthwise on an city bank somewhere in one of the five burroughs of NYC. The other: You’re enjoying a brilliant day of sending at [insert your favorite international beachside crag], while smokin’ hot units of the opposite gender lay about, half-naked, at the base of the crag. Whether climbing in the urban playground or rope-wrangling in a rural stadium, Javelin’s No Mas is THE choice soundtrack for hot weather grappling of the vertical kind. Download your copy for a mere $7.99.