Chocolate Industries is a Chicago 'undie' label whose releases run from low-key hip-hop to producer-oriented instrumental records, and this Urban Renewal Project compilation is one of many fine steps in their rise toward national status. It's also something of a big love-in with Def Jux artists and Scott Herren's Prefuse 73, whose sonic fingerprints are all over everything. Which is great, really, not only because Herren is the shit but also because he does a good job of tailoring his own sound so that it's flattering to other people's-- and because a lot of these guys could do a lot worse than to use his style as a jumping-off point for undie production in general.

To wit: Urban Renewal Project even starts with a reworking of the Prefuse record's lead track-- only this time the radio chatter being cut up has local DJs talking about this very record. There's your premise: a manifesto for an implied groundswell, a myth being built of some perfect backpacker radioland of dope subway beats and bespectacled hip in gloriously unawkward harmony. Verdict forthcoming.

We'll start with the MCs: feel free to scroll down if you only want to know about the Tortoise track. (Go on, I'll put it in bold so you won't miss it.) The 'dope subway beats' are courtesy of the Def Jux contributors, obviously: first up is Aesop Rock, once again doing the sarcastic tough-talk parody he does so bitingly. I'm in love with Aesop Rock, a fan-boy sentiment I hope makes it past our editor. Unfortunately, Aesop has Def Jux honcho El-P producing, and while I'll walk admiringly beside that guy's bandwagon, I can only listen to so many scrubbed-out, jacked-up beats a week: Aesop needs to stick with Blockhead, notwithstanding El-P's production on his own "Deadlight" being a highlight here.

Chicago's own hip-hop, on the other hand, is less gritty and more vibey, all smoothed-out soul samples and sleepy flows. The notable Chicago MC on here is Diverse, last seen by this reviewer trying, unsuccessfully, to convince a crowd of indie kids to put their hands in the air. "Wylin Out", Chocolate Industries' bank-account single, teams him with Mos Def (as in the Mos Def who gets full-page photos of himself in The New Yorker) and Herren (who leans straightforward with his beats to accommodate)-- but for a marquee single it's actually a bit tepid. He also shows up solo, with the Chicago sound in full effect-- only there he's swallowing his words and getting disappointingly messy.

I have no idea why I like Mr. Lif: he's stiff and hokey like an overenthusiastic Roman Civ lecture, and it takes a better beat than the one on "Wanted" to distract me from his over-literal and not-as-philosophical-as-he-thinks rhyme clunkers. I also have no idea why I'm not digging Souls of Mischief, who sound good here with RJD2 beats-- beats like little tread-wheeled robots in turtlenecks and berets-- but suddenly they sound weirdly forced about their Tribe-style mic-passing.

But on to the non-MC tracks, the best of which has Miho Hatori from Cibo Matto gloriously transforming herself into the Ashanti of the Chocolate Industries world. Herren's producing once again, casting a sprawled-out soul spell like you wouldn't believe. And it sounds great-- it has a vibe, a sunny-stoop East Village feel that somehow manages to pull this entire comp together around it.

It also acts as the perfect segue into the comp's other indie contribution, this one from Tortoise, as part of their surprisingly successful efforts to break around the prevailing mood of "pfft, post-rock" and stay fresh. It's not hip-hop, obviously, but their "CTA" fits the aforementioned 'vibe': John McEntire drums behind some sunny electro-tone programming, the bass comes in all sprightly, and something new emerges from the bubbly fusion bath of Standards-less dramatic groove (more shuffle and slice), and only Jeff Parker's guitar seems to have missed the memo detailing this plan.

The remaining contributors face the unenviable task of competing with Prefuse in the production game, to varying levels of success. That statement excludes RJD2, who turns in the most surprising track here: a big, rocky, storm-summoning gallop with string punctuation and guitar tomfoolery. It does, however, include While, who loses, and DJ Food, whose abstracted, graffiti-themed instrumental-- something like Squarepusher in a crate-digging mood-- is engaging enough to keep one's mind off of that version of "Radio Attack" at the start. Caural's "Our Solstice Walk" is a mixed victory: sighing flutes, warm organs, and more of the rainy-day, blissed-out head-nodding that this comp is, in the end, all about. The beat bulks up into a hand-clapping shuffle even as the samples stay downtempo, and it's a beautiful groove even when it feels a bit too much like shopping in a designer boutique.

The record runs out with a ten-minute appearance for that most deliberately 'progressive' undie axis, the Anticon crew: Jel and Dose-One, as Themselves, start off with signature blues-slide languor, lay in a lengthy sound experiment of rising hum and chatter, then break out into what's possibly the prettiest and most soulful thing on this comp. Which also means that it doesn't quite fit properly-- its opaque, babbling murkiness is an odd choice to close out the clean, sparkling precision of Chocolate Industries.

And what such label sampler has ever been anything but a mixed bag? What amazes me here is that I'm even thinking about this as a unified record, a sturdy and potentially even important one: the Industries seem like they're trying to make a case for themselves, and they also seem to be succeeding remarkably. I can think of a lot worse things to be nodding one's head to while skimming along on Chicago trains, and so far this week I haven't remembered much I own that's significantly better for it.

-Nitsuh Abebe, September 13th, 2002