KEY POINTS:
Timbaland: Shock Value
Herald rating: * * *
Verdict: It's better than Pharrell's solo effort but don't get too excited
Label: Universal
Dalek: Abandoned Language
Herald rating: * * *
Verdict: Challenging, ambient hip-hop from the bowels of New Jersey
Label: Ipecac
Gym Class Heroes: As Cruel as School Children
Herald rating: * * *
*
Verdict: Tongue'n'cheek from the class clowns of hip-hop
Label: Warner
Ying Yang Twins: Chemically Imbalanced
Herald rating: *
Verdict: Enough to turn you as drunk and disorderly as them
Label: Shock
Timbaland has long been one of pop and hip-hop's best producers, cranking out distinctive, spazzy hits for Justin, Missy, Aaliyah and just about any star in need of an aural makeover.
His talent has been to turn tribal, bhangra beats into pop gold, tailoring the "Timbaland sound" to his clients, (Justin's FutureSex/Love Sounds really owed its title to Tim).
But for his own solo album Shock Value the biggest shock is his occasionally bland new direction. Doing away with the angular beats while still relying on his vocal talent and percussive-heavy foundations, the mood here is dark, introspective and boundless in terms of genre. And that's not always a good thing.
Blending rock, crunk, R & B and whatever else he feels like, his aim appears to be to break down boundaries; the result, however, sounds too cohesive for his own good.
He makes a promising start with Oh Timbaland, a sort of edgy version of Sinnerman, followed up with the instant club hit, Give It To Me with Nelly Furtado and Justin Timberlake and a Sexy Back-style track with JT in Release. There's also a decent attempt to blend Bollywood and hip-hop on Bombay (featuring Amar and Jim Beanz) and a surprisingly good pop ballad in Apologize with One Republic (although hardcore hip-hop fans will probably hate it).
Elsewhere the shock value seems left to mediocre duets with Elton John, the Hives and Fallout Boy.
Timbaland isn't the only producer worth noting. Over the course of four albums, New Jersey's Dalek (a duo in which one member is also called Dalek), pronounced "dialect" have been making hip-hop you don't have to be a hip-hop head to like.
To call them underground is an understatement - these guys practically live in the sewer-pipes. Their experimental, feedback-heavy sound has garnered comparisons with My Bloody Valentine, Pink Floyd and even Godflesh but their fourth album is slightly easier on the ears than past efforts.
Don't be fooled - it's still as dense and disturbed, embracing a claustrophobic madness that wouldn't be out of place on a Madlib album. The title track ends in a wall of mind-numbing orchestral noise, Starved for the Truth has a sax that barely sounds like a sax and Paragraph Relentless has droning bagpipes. Lynch, without any lyrics, is the music of a ghoulish space creature.
Oktopus' (the other member of the duo) production is the most alluring element. MC/producer Dalek's vocals don't particularly stand out from the fray. When they do, they're lofty statements about the occupational hazards of his job: "Never write my songs for consumers, ironic cause I write for heads with fat laces on their Pumas."
But you have to admire Dalek's vision, a world in which words are all-powerful and paint a picture of life forgotten. On Tarnished he rhymes, "Travelled under soil with Osirs, birth and death of modern world on the Tigris, ink flow from pen to raw papyrus."
Another non-conformist hip-hop outfit from the Big Apple is Gym Class Heroes (yep, they hooked up in PE class), who rely on live instruments rather than loops, samples and beats.
Some would argue they're closer to the rap-rock style of Linkin Park or the party vibe of Ozomatli. Especially now that pop tracks like Cupid's Chokehold - featuring Fall Out Boy's Patrick Stamp and borrowing elements of Supertramp's Breakfast in America - are finding the group a mainstream audience. But these guys are more the Bloodhound Gang of hip-hop.
Far from the grim street soundtracks common to their boroughs, GCH make bouncy hip-pop, laced with Latin guitars and radio-friendly choruses. They're not exactly bad boys, with frontman Travis McCoy preferring to wax lyrical on the woes of high school, bar-hopping and hot chicks.
"I'm only here for good clean fun," he raps on New Friend Request, a faux-80s pop track that calls to mind a bad radio ad. Sure, it's a little chirpy but if good clean fun is what you're after, you'll find it here.
If it's bad, dirty fun, you'll find it on the Ying Yang Twins' Chemically Imbalanced. Has it really been five albums? Atlanta's rudest crank out more boozy crunk, this time leaving the yin and yang behind for something so up the shoot it was virtually cooked up in an AA meeting.
Fans of their wild-child lyrics, synthy club beats and rhymes that sound as though they were inspired by hookers will find not much has changed. They just sound a little drunker.
Check the amusing Jigglin' for evidence of their limited verbal repertoire. Although the first half is no more than a flesh party, the twins attempt sultry R&B on Take It Slow and aim for something resembling structure on Water. But even Wyclef Jean doing his best Bob Marley impression on Dangerous can't save this from R&B and crunk mediocrity.