The six (more or less) members of Atman Roots may all hail from New Orleans,
or at least have the stamp of native you get when you let this city drunkenly
caress you a little too long. But as this half-live, half-debut disc makes
clear, these guys have the soul of Southern Californians—politically progressive,
lyrically positive, steeped equally in jazz, afro-beat, reggae, funk, and hip-hop,
and determined to make it all blend just right. Despite their impressive instrumental
skills, however, which make them a virtual mainstay at the Hookah Café,
you can still hear the parts more than the whole.

Not that there’s much wrong with the parts. With two percussionists and
three revolving bass players, the groove is tight; singer/guitarist/songwriter
Billy Franklin knows his way around the complex half-sung stoner toasting popularized
by groups like Sublime and 311, and these guys have good enough jazz chops to
indulge in extended jams like “Progression” and the aptly-named “Chloe’s
Clave.” But their influences sit uneasily next to one another, like when
the aforementioned “Progression,” a moody reflection that’s
almost edged into smooth-jazz territory by Robin Boudreaux’s sax, suddenly
lurches into the rapid-fire rap of “Interlude I.” Vocals are this
band’s weak point, in fact: rapper Koan’s got the verbal gift, but
his delivery is a little forced, while Franklin’s vocals fall flat on more
than one occasion, as if being sincere were somehow enough. It’s a mistake
to judge a self-produced CD too harshly, of course, and with a little focus
and cohesion, this sextet could be a force to reckon with. As of now, though,
most
of their struggle is internal.