In a significant departure from Kinky's self-titled 2001 electro pop en español debut, the latest release from the Mexico natives marks a return to their rock roots. Rather than rely on polished loops and the guidance of producer Chris Allison, the band isolated themselves in the Yucatán jungle to record Atlas. The product is distilled pop and – in what may be construed as a crossover attempt – the lyrics are predominantly in English. Yet because their self-titled debut was so commercially successful, the narrative change can more likely be explained by the incessant U.K. and U.S. touring they've undertaken since being signed by London-based Sonic 360.

With an addictive guitar hook and mild electronic accents, "Salta-Lenin-El-Atlas" seems irreverently nostalgic for Kinky. The latter third of the recording delves fashionably into new wave and synth pop, culminating in the Devo-esque "My God Is So Quiet." Freed from the restraints of loops, Omar Gongora's percussion really shines, and overall the album has an organic sound that approximates an intimate live performance. With Atlas, Kinky are sure to garner positive attention from those predisposed to dislike electronic outfits, and existing fans may be surprised to find themselves actively listening rather than feverishly tearing up the dance floor. Kinky play Thurs/18, Great American Music Hall, S.F. (415) 885-0750. (Mirissa Neff)

Chumbawamba
Readymades and Then Some (Koch)

Chumbawamba get knocked down, but they get up again. How else to explain the long-in-the-tooth Brit collective continuing on, in the wake of an underground backlash surrounding 1997's fluke über-hit "Tubthumping," to make the best music of their two-decade career? One-hit-wonder and sellout accusations certainly fall flat when it comes to 2000's excellent WYSIWYG and especially the band's 11th studio disc, Readymades and Then Some. As one of the more refreshing recordings to surface in this Bushwhacked world, the latter album smartly updates traditional folk music with beats, samples, and impassioned commentary on today's abysmal political climate. "Sooner or later we'll dig up your cellar and try you for murder," they promise our prez on "Jacob's Ladder (Not in My Name)."

In other words, don't expect Readymades to include more of the same drunken revelry found on "Tubthumping." As if to emphasize that point, the bonus DVD includes that hit remixed into an excellent if nearly unrecognizable lament by the Flaming Lips and Dave Fridmann. Slowed down and plaintive, the transformed song is more indicative of the group's overall tone on this album: somber, meditative, and pissed off by all the injustice in the world. But if the discussion is unflinchingly grave, the Chums incorporate warm, hummable hooks to keep the music from feeling as joyless as the topics tackled (sweatshop labor, blood for oil). The result is an album that probably won't scale the charts, but that's OK, 'cause Chumbawamba are thinking bigger than that anyway. (Jimmy Draper)

Poncho Sanchez
Out of Sight! (Concord Picante)

The trajectories of jazz, R&B, and Afro-Cuban intersected perhaps no more profoundly than in 1961, when Ray Charles transformed the Clovers' 1952 R&B hit "One Mint Julep" into an organ jazz instrumental using an arrangement inspired by Cuban bandleader Perez Prado. Prado, who regularly toured the West Coast during the 1950s from his base in Mexico City, also left a strong impression on Mexican American musicians in California, such as conguero Poncho Sanchez. It's fitting, then, that the SoCal Latin-jazz kingpin reprises "One Mint Julep" as a funky cha-cha with help from Charles himself. Curiously, onetime Charles sideman Billy Preston is the organist this time around, and Charles is limited to recapping his Prado-like grunts from the oldie. The Genius of Soul actually sings on a guajira-flavored remake of his 1955 composition "Mary Ann," displaying a type of deep soulfulness than hasn't been heard on any of his own recordings in well over a decade. Also bringing the heavy R&B credentials to Sanchez's rhythm-charged trip into boogaloo territory are vocalist Sam Moore (of Sam and Dave) and former James Brown horn men Fred Wesley and Pee Wee Ellis. Sanchez himself emerges as a rather nice singer on three selections. Poncho Sanchez performs Fri/26-Wed/31, Yoshi's, Oakl. (510) 238-9200. (Lee Hildebrand)

Asheru and Blue Black of the Unspoken Heard
48 Months (Seven Heads)

In the religion known as hip-hop, fundamentalism is actually a good thing. Asheru and Blue Black are the latest poor righteous preachers of the hip-hop gospel, refocusing the faith back on the originality, intelligence, and soul that marked the best of the Native Tongues-style sound. Released by Brooklyn's consistently slick Seven Heads, their sophomore effort is a steady dose of clever cool and classic feel, equally functional in headphones or on the dance floor.

With laid-back delivery and tongue-twisting diction, Asheru brings to mind Posdnuos at his most playful; counterpart Blue Black runs deep like Common, minus the egotism. The two throw conscious verse back and forth with tight, easy flow and come out sounding fresh and genuine, without waving an obvious "back in the day" banner overhead.

"Mid Atlantic" mellows any bicoastal beef with moody vibraphone and sax samples. Blue Black rhymes, "All these childish territory semantics / Schemes supreme seem to sink like the Titanic / Your throne is overthrown / Yo money, don't panic / It's different, isn't it, it's from the Mid Atlantic." The a cappella pass-the-mic freestyle "How Ya' Livin' " showcases the duo's remarkable raw talent; "Smiley (The Woh, Woh, Song)" is an infectious soul-hop jam laced with sunny piano and flute and a chorus that sticks like honey; the upbeat "Jamboree" is aptly named, a ragtime-esque hand-clapper featuring Asheru and Blue Black rapping over juke jazz piano and snappy horn samples.