Album Review: Kora - Light Years

Kiwi funksters Kora have turned up the dials on their second album, and its evident that the five-piece have taken stock, after a lengthy break following the 2007 release of their laidback reggae-infused self-titled debut. The often relegated soundscapes of soul and funk have shifted underfoot and been made more accessible thanks to increasing multi-genre dabbling with dubstep. Their sound gets a reworking for the better on Light Years, straying into a strange but refreshingly original world of progressive melodies and crisp beats.

The brothers Kora and compatriot Dan McGruer make the most of their otherworldly vocal harmonies, leading man Laughton channelling a bit of the soulful crackle of Bobby Womack throughout but most effectively on opening track, Little Star. Warped vocals, crunchy textures and subtly buried melodic lines run rampant throughout the album as a whole, making their choice to trade in live instruments for synths all the more validated. But with a nod of respect to the past they stick to what they know, delving back into the RnB territory that launched them onto the scene. Last Generation nabs most of the kudos there, riddling the sonically sparse downbeat track with a chugging studio beat. Hit The Wall is a bit more lyric-driven, flipping the reggae sass on its head with intermittent dub noise, and Drop Dead Killer reiterates with its polished '90s boy band vocal but swiftly transforms into something more interesting with a scatty, bluesy chorus.

The middle section seems to lack the same punch offered at the start but fortunately Bad Thing checks in towards the end for its bombastic but creepy horns and live kit under Francis Kora's vocal gymnastics. Pretty interesting stuff.