Table Turns

Innercity Griots. Urban storytellers and spiritual conduits for their people. The hip-hop MCs, black folks’ CNN, as Chuck D. put it. Guru, Kool G, KRS-One, Biggie, Melle Mel. It’s a fine hip-hop tradition that’s as old as rap on wax. Commercial radio doesn’t transmit it, but the underground reverberates with the griot energy. An MC who just crackles with it is Brooklyn’s Invisible.

With the help of BT, Chocolate and Mondee, this MC has crafted a fine debut. Like Akrobatic, Invisible tells it like it is — no apologies — without all the bullshit bling. This is a rough and rugged disc that slams you in the face with a cold, hard reality that’s hard to shake. Invisible has a story to tell — like a true MC — and will not be denied nor blinded by the ghetto fabulous wet dreams splashing across your radio dial. He has an urgency and energy that captivates the listener. His positive message is not a flowery kente cloth pattern over rose-colored glasses but a struggle for self-respect and success in a bitter and tragic world. The production is tight enough for any head nodder (just check out “Virtual Reality” and “Concrete Jungle”), and his rhymes could survive any cipher. Along with labelmate Rob Swift, Invisible may one day be the cornerstone for the promising Table Turns label.

Table Turns:

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