Like Silly Putty and insect repellent, Missoula’s Hill Con evolved as sort of happy incident. Fresh in the breakup of a youthful band known as the Elements, vocalist/songwriter Adam Nugent was spending his days placing Van Morrison music to drum devices. Convinced he was to something, Nugent got touching previous bandmates Mike Watt and Pierre Ferguson and started the procedure of noodling and experimentation which has spawned every good plan. Thought flowed using the malt liquor as well as the three of these hit in the noble idea of combining the united states music that they had developed with, using the metropolitan growl and stomp from the hip-hop beats these were presently consumed by. Enter Erik Bloodstream, an area DJ. Bloodstream brought his history in electronica and his Technics 1200s. Another pal, Swede, a glide and steel guitarist was recruited, and instantly Hill Con roared alive, a unique mixture of way-back-yonder twang and contemporary, metropolitan white sound. Their debut record, The MC Means Revolution, appears like nothing at all else. Comparisons could be designed to R.L. Burnside and Beck, and certainly will be, due to the fact maker Tom Rothrock, he of “Loser” popularity, helmed the table for the music group. But evaluations, as usual, just miss the stage. While the images from the record business lead one to anticipate some kind of political position, as well as the nude sound from the disk echoes the macho upper body thumping of gangsta rap or basic get-down boogie, the lyrics and delivery of vocalist Nugent push one to pay attention and take items seriously. That is an erudite guy having a self-deprecating mixture of laughter and pathos. Referrals to Brian Wilson are fallen, but so can be tangential nods to Walt Whitman. Upon further and nearer listening, what appears like a thumping, hissing roar is truly a cautiously meshed stew of audio. Slide acoustic guitar slams against breakbeats and examples from sources just like the Thankful Deceased and “Honky Tonk Female.” Through everything, Ferguson’s loping and sinister bass lines maintain things moving forward. That is roiling, powerful music, more comparable to Bitches Brew than anything Sublime ever considered. It isn’t frequently that one hears something totally exclusive, the type of sound that may just begin something big. This music group doesn’t match comfortable niches, despite the fact that critics possess tagged the music with a variety of smart aliases from hick-hop to strum and bass, to hill funk.