Ghetto Blaster Magazine

Jonny Sonic (aka Rick Kowal) has stepped from behind the beats of the dense, experimental utterly unclassifiable, FULL, in order to flex his formidable funk credentials. It's not that he hasn't already proven himself with his Seattle band mates; listening to FULL records you immediately notice his fitful skeletons, the nervous rhythm undertow that moves their dense compositions forward. On Coop Resident, Kowal switches gears, dropping an album that pure party through and through. This shit will make you moist "down there".

Jonny [sic] sings with a dirty tease of a velvet tongue, at times bringing the orgasmic mouth play of Prince and others coming in with a pimped Larry Blackmon growl. Holy fuck, those horns, those horns! On "Pesos Y Euros", Sonic [sic] does a seizured talksing over a horn section that's as slick as oiled, shaved biceps. These funk nods, equal parts Madness and Parliament, show an artist unafraid to tackle the sacrosanct and own it. Coop Resident straddles these two halves, an electronic artist that understands that it took Curtis Mayfield to make Kraftwerk. Jonny Sonic [sic] is an itchy composer; he won't let you settle in before long, before he's whisked away the song's bottom, with the dishes still on the table. "Dumb Day" displays his skills with electronic splices; it begins with a Peter Murphy low-rolled mantra, reclining against beats that scurry critical mass fast.

What's amazing about Jonny's [sic] breadth as a performer is the lines he draws from old school orchestral funk to the Red Hot Chili Peppers to Aphex Twin. This is the album that Terrence Howard should have been working on in Hustle & Flow: A gritty, sprawling work with all the frantic flow of the city and sexy ass bravado to spare.

Terry SawyerGhetto Blaster Magazine