he story goes:


A fledgling group of students combines populist jazz and funk samples with lackadaisical, yet competent, mic skills and accessible, stream-of-conscious, observational lyrics that feigns depth – all in all, inoffensive fun with the rare profundity concerning social ills. The trio dons the moniker Digable Planets. White critics, college kids, and jazz aficionados originally waiting for the next Tribe album as their sole hip-hop purchase of the year eat it up, leading to the commercial and critical success of Reachin’.


In order to silence the naysayers complaining about weak samples and lyrics, the follow-up, Blowout Comb, incorporates gritty live jams and takes a more afro-centric and Marxist approach to their lyrics. Needless to say, the critics previously championing them ran for shelter during their second coming, and the album flopped. While this would mark the beginning of a quick end for Digable Planets, Blowout Comb would go down as one of hip-hop’s undervalued gems.


After years of sporadic appearances and singles, Butterfly teaches himself guitar by playing along to Prince and Mayfield records, forms a neo-soul band with chops, and reinvents himself as Cherrywine. Was it worth the wait?


For those hoping that the militant political edge that marked latter day Digable Planets would be revisited here, look elsewhere. In recent interviews, Butterfly said that he’s going for more visceral and emotional responses with the Cherrywine project, and that playing the part of revolutionary would be a disservice to those actually fighting the fight. Instead, he opted for filtering the R&B side of the Soulquarian movement, Dirty Mind-era Prince, and twin towers of Stax and Motown through his own sexually-charged lyrics and social musings. Considering that tongue-twisting delivery and wordplay were never Butterfly’s strengths, the transition from MC to funk front man is an initially welcome change.


The musical backdrop works best when the group is able to find common ground between their soulful forefathers and innovative contemporaries. The juxtaposition between throwback wah-wah guitar riffs and tumbling drum programming shines on “Anchorman Blues,” but is held back by Butterfly’s incessant indictment of men who will play their women with lies and infidelity.


One of the recurring themes of the album is the condemnation of mainstream hip-hop, a familiar refuge to all hip-hop artists not on a major label. The opening track and lead-off single, “What I’m Talking”, contains lines like “You got sex appeal, mass appeal, drug appeal/Guns, guns, guns, for real/Hoes do it for the cash/You might be a good crook but your rap is trash”. Only the most vehemently anti-mainstream backpacker will herald tripe like this. “Dazzlement” acts as a parody of ghetto-diva-meets-thug-rapper duets. While marked with a sinfully sweet and slow bass backing, the lyrics pale in comparison to more poignant send-ups like Mike Ladd’s Majesticons project. It’s more than understandable why Butterfly would want to voice his opinion on this topic, considering the public’s shift to gangsta rap attributed to Digable Planets’ downfall, but at the same time it doesn’t make for enjoyable listening.


It’s when Butterfly doesn’t try so hard to live up to everyone’s expectations of being the “voice of urban social consciousness” by recycling generally tired scenarios that he’s most palatable. Hearing Butterfly ask the ladies, “Won’t you cum with me?” in any context is infinitely more entertaining than overbearing preaching. This isn’t to say he can’t pull off the introspection when pressed; “American Drip” showcases his personal struggles identifying himself as an American when not agreeing with actions the government takes in his name in the guise of a party anthem. Unfortunately, songs like “American Drip” are outnumbered by songs like “What I’m Talking.”


This debut outing shows that despite some growing pains with the new sound, Butterfly has stumbled upon a formula that could reap his greatest work. Assuming they focus more on musicianship and less on half-hearted social commentary, Cherrywine could be one of the leading voices of the neo-soul movement. Until then, stick with D’Angelo and Cee-Lo.