The greatest thing about a regional musical scene is the grand diversity bubbling beneath the pomp and circumstance of its mainstream acts. Garish flow here. Gritty snarl there. Daring introspect every so often’if we are so lucky (we are). As it stands, Los Angeles’ local rap scene is no different. And without sounding redundant, because it can only be said in so many ways: a rap renaissance is coalescing across the land. To date, L.A.’s independent rap acts have had a stellar’stellar!‘year (and, quite honestly, to pigeonhole these flourishing artists as just ‘rap’ acts would do them a disservice: the music soars beyond category at times). Pick from the bunch: Pac Div, El Prez, Blu, Tiron, H.O.P.E., Diz Gibran, U-N-I, J*Davey. The list goes on and on’and on. This is where FutureStreet/ DrugSounds comes in.

Kennedy bullied his way onto the independent hip-hop scene in Mar 2008 with The 25th Hour mixtape. It was a solid effort, tepid rhymes backed by breezy production. We welcomed his diversity’both sonically and thematically’and soon moved on. But now, a little over a year later, he resurfaces stronger and hungrier, recalling, often, the lyrical prowess of a young O’Shea Jackson. Kennedy sounds just like Cube, not in terms of topic or lyrical grandeur, but the delivery is spot on. Every word counts. He also channels the old school rapper aesthetic on DrugSounds: relaxed rhymes over idyllic beats. But this is the same Dom Kennedy from before. So what’s changed? Besides nearly flawless production from Chuck Inglish (of The Cool Kids), Ski Team, LAUSD, and Brandun Deshay, among others, nothing really. This time, however, the chemistry is noticeable. Kennedy’s unhurried delivery works well over the scenic soundscapes (see ‘Showtime!’ and ‘It Was Beautiful’).

As for the music? ‘Intro/ Hard Work’ and ‘Menace Beach’ rattle with an N.W.A-like intensity and ‘Where I Belong’ is easily the standout track (it will grow on you like a fine wine). The album roars with earnestness and the only speed bump is ‘I Apologize.’ It’s an amateurish effort’more DJ Mbenga than Kobe Bryant. In the end, Kennedy is careful not to offer excess. At only eleven tracks he makes a bold statement to his peers: quality usurps quantity every time.

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