A decade ago, when Del the Funky Homosapien was still spelling his name funee, his cousin Ice Cube drafted him as point man for a mid-gangsta-age P-Funk revival and piled more George Clinton-copyrighted hooks on Del's first album than a too-goofy-for-the-'hood East Bay starchild could be expected to bear. By album number two—which failed the way a lot of hip-hop in the embarrassingly talent-rich mid '90s did, shooting bricks from a baseline of quality—Del had passed up his position as Dr. Funkenstein's crazy intern. Wandering off the grid to, like, find himself, he pursued one of rap's rockier (and more rockish) career arcs, from slacka-MC to bemusedly game J. Mascis collaborator to missing and presumed cracked-out Telegraph Avenue wastoid/record-store clerk to self-evident, self-producing genius in... More >>>