On Repeat The Crest

Where angsty hip-hop meets beef-fed Badger boys, you've got The Crest. One of the local rap group's logos boasts "since 1997," another drives home the questionable portmanteau "Wiscompton." Maybe 12 years of pounding the Madison pavement in The Crest's fashion would turn some rap groups into a lethargic, self-righteous mess. But when the group opened for Pigeon John at a show last November, MCs Jack Cracker and A.D. came off sharp and feisty, flowing and barking their way through the verses, getting in the crowd's faces, and, in short, making cranky-Midwestern-dude rap unexpectedly fun. Cracker, A.D., and producers DJ Skrabble and Paul Fresh carry that energy into the 16 tracks of Cheerful Robots, the Crest's 14th album, which they'll celebrate with a Saturday show at the High Noon Saloon.

There's just something optimistic about the bouncy hand percussion that opens "Battle" (the album's second track, after a brief instrumental just called "Intro") and the way Cracker and A.D.'s delivery hops all around it. The two rappers sound serious but light on their toes, as they roll with the production's rhythmic twists, from the plodding boom-bap of "Drunk And Pregnant" to the snottily swinging rock of "No More Lyrics."

"Battle" by The Crest

Cheerful Robots also boasts guest contributions from L.A.'s Pigeon John and such locals as spaced-out pianist-singer Stephanie Rearick, Michael Sienkowski of Whatfor, and Mr. Freeze of hip-hop-meets-rock band Know Boundaries. What's really cool is not just that these people are on the record, but how well they and The Crest make it all fit together, reflecting well on everyone involved. Take Sienkowski, who makes arch, well-orchestrated pop inspired by musicals and The Kinks. His grudgingly catchy drawl and acoustic guitar become part of a bass-fat beat on the hook of "Head On The Block," creating an air of dry-witted pessimism that goes well with lines in verses like "I'm not an animal lover, I'm a people-hater." Pigeon John, a man who will be fun and jolly at his own wake, is just what's needed on the dreary "Calamity Jane And The Suicide King." While the verses suggest a guy beating himself up about the end of a relationship and its aftermath, John's soft croon tells you that, yeah, it sucks right now, but there's some light around the corner.

Mr. Freeze's spot on "$36/HR" is all about cranking up The Crest's already high levels of indignation. Rearick's ghostly vocal hook sends "Steph Song" into icy, paranoid outer space like the El-P it never had, and the rappers seem willing to hang back a bit and let the ambience take effect. There's plenty in between the novel mix-ups, though: "Grave" begins with a blues hook that sounds like something men on a chain gang might sing, then adds droning low piano notes as the verses ponder death and religion. Still, it's hard not to refer back to "Battle" at the album's start: It's a burst of youthful enthusiasm that gives the listener enough hope to check out the next 14 tracks.