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  • Oculus Magazine Review of Strictly Platinum

    If proud Italian-Jewish-Pennsylvanian Lower East Sider Concetta Kirschner gets as big as she deserves or wants, she could well become a real annoyance. Her vain cover photo tempted me to avoid trying this excellent album, and her whiny, superior, dismissive attitude almost kept me from not hearing it. It's real hard to sympathize with a musician who makes fun of the salsa music playing on her block yet can only tolerate her day job because she knows she'll be a superstar soon. But she peppers her raps with so many personal details, cultural references broad (Alex Trebec) and specific (John Peel Sessions), and carefully honed attitude that you know where she's coming from and hang on half the words and nuances anyway. And if her band and helpers are just juicy enough, her choice of samples (David Bowie's "Stay" creeping out of someone's window), use of abrupt segues (wait, lemme go back and catch that again), and layered steals ("Strawberry Fields" woodwinds over the beats the Beasties stole for "Shake Your Rump") make for the most thrillingly original music in a while. The fastest-paced, too - by what I hear, not what the index says, there are 18 or 19 memorable, distinct songs and freestyle raps in 40 minutes, and even some of those don't even end like they start. But rather than coming off as channel-surfing, this parade of ideas works and moves as one thing. Damn.

    — David Schweitzer

     
    Article reprinted without permission.