Monday, Aug. 17, 1992

Rapping Righteously

By GIL GRIFFIN

PERFORMER: ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT

ALBUM: 3 YEARS, 5 MONTHS AND 2 DAYS IN THE LIFE OF . . .

LABEL: EMI/CHRYSALIS

THE BOTTOM LINE: A new Southern rap group urges a revolution of consciousness stressing the positive side.

Rappers expressing their passion for justice and black empowerment are hardly uncommon. Rhyming over experimental jazz, funk, blues and reggae samples is no longer unorthodox. But the Atlanta-based group Arrested Development does both in a way that strikes a novel note. For one thing, consider its makeup. There are four men and two women (itself unusual, since rap groups nearly always divide strictly along gender lines): a lead rapper- singer named Speech, a deejay, another singer, a traditional African dancer and -- get this -- a 60-year-old spiritual adviser, who doesn't appear onstage with the group but draws on the lore of precolonial African societies to instruct them on maintaining their familial structure.

; Even more unusual is the group's tone. In contrast to the rage, misogyny and combativeness of many rappers, Arrested Development is generally positive and hopeful, though often frustrated (the name reflects the stagnation the performers see stunting African-Americans' progress). In their debut album, 3 Years, 5 Months and 2 Days in the Life of , they embrace values that by current standards seem downright radical, exhorting blacks to achieve reform by loving and respecting one another, being more responsible as parents and developing a greater reverence for nature and for God.

Arrested Development has an angry, urgent side too, as in the funky, up- tempo cut Fishin' 4 Religion, an attack on black religious leaders. Baptist churches, Speech complains, "don't do a damn thing to try to nurture,/ Brothers and sisters in the revolution./ Baptist teachers dying is the only solution./ Passiveness causes others to pass us by." The group goes further on Give a Man a Fish, a tune whose chorus rings with down-home gospel fervor. "Brothers wit their A.K.s and their 9-mms," Speech raps, "Need to learn how to correctly shoot them./ Save those rounds for a revolution./ Poor whites and blacks, bumrushing the system." Whether literally calling for violence or using a metaphor to express a desire for social upheaval, Speech and Arrested Development clearly believe their revolution is righteous.

But perhaps more characteristic is the fervor in the group's hit single, Tennessee. Here, Speech mourns the loss of two relatives and describes his pilgrimage to his ancestral home in Ripley, Tenn. He revels in his family history and the beauty of the rural surroundings: "((I)) walk the roads my forefathers walked,/ Climb the trees my forefathers hung from./ Ask those trees for all their wisdom,/ . . . He guided me to Tennessee . . . home."

The talented Speech is no metaphysician, nor a messiah. But the ideas he and Arrested Development present, borne on soulful rhythms and profanity-free lyrics, are refreshing and intriguing.