From crunk's ringtone squeals to Cee-Lo's twangy Atlanta accent, urban music's centre of gravity has migrated south of the Mason-Dixon line. Hailing from the same Georgia town as Ray Charles, rappers Smoke and Shawn J are the latest contenders. On their first album under the wing of Ludacris, there's too much pandering to the gallery - a listless slow jam here, some off-the-peg crunk there - but their more eccentric material is funny and endearing.
My Wheels is surely the first time a rapper has bragged about his car with the aid of parent-bothering nursery rhyme The Wheels on the Bus, and Blacker the Berry eloquently opens a window on racial tension between light- and dark-skinned African-Americans. Unable to keep a straight face even here, Smoke can't resist a quip: "Venus and Serena, they beat more white girls than OJ and Rick James put together."
