The English jazz-meets-hip-hop band’s eighth album, and their first not on the groundbreaking Ninja Tune label, is something of a paradox – a bold foot forward for a band in the business for so long, and yet a work of complete safety. Their traditional trip-hop meets jazz electronic tinkering is now strutted all over by an organic (or at the very least, organic-sounding) band-based, structured, and ultimately, derivative new approach. It is an album to reignite the debate regarding whether we place too much emphasis on originality as a prerequisite for quality. There isn’t a drop of anything not readily available in your Stax and Volt collections to be found on Same As It Never Was (bar the rap cameos and occasional turn-table scrapes), yet it would be mightily unfair to deem it a bad album. It would be unfair indeed, not to mark it really as an album. Perhaps it is the fresh-faced vigour with which the songs are executed which makes The Herb’s latest foray a worthy listen. As an opening song the title track is as perfect an indicator of the album to come as you’ll find. A party-funk atmosphere is immediately conjured up with triumphant trumpets, tinkling organs, a busy bassline and turntablist wika-wika scratches like they’d never gone out of fashion. The album continues in the big-sounding band vein, with Sharon Jones-alike Jessica Darling rasping over the highlights On Your Knees and You’re Not All That. The more rap based cameos, courtesy of More Or Les and Jean Grae seem slightly at odds with the retro funk vibe. More Or Les’ turn on Game Set & Match recalls Def Jux spitters El-P and Aesop Rock, and Street Karma’s dark jazz shuffle is complimented by Jean Grae’s lazy delivery, making them compelling tracks in the classic Herbaliser tradition. It is these reminders of Herbaliser’s roots that offer continuity for longtime fans. Yet it is the more polished funk sound that the band seem more comfortable inhabiting. A bold foot forward indeed, for such a backward-looking album.
