Pack full of pounding punk, agile hip-hop

A double shot of hip-hop and some seriously envenomed punk rock highlight the latest roundup of Vegas music releases:

RHYME N RHYTHM, "Unsolicited Material" (rnr702.com): Vegas hip-hop is fossorial: It lives underground.

The seven-member Rhyme N Rhythm have worked hard dragging it out into the daylight, though, performing in front of rock crowds and other nontraditional rap audiences.

RNR can pull it off because they're one of Vegas' best live acts regardless of genre, with four MCs backed by a rhythm section tight as a clenched fist.

The group's latest release, a six-song EP, sees them continuing to confront the challenge of capturing their onstage charisma and distilling it into a recording evocative of their standout gigs.

Here, they reverse stream, in a way, coming with some deep, laid-back grooves and hypnotic keys on tracks such as "The First 48" and "The Second 48."

Things pick up for the finale, "This Track Right Here," with its sing-along chorus and dive-bombing synth lines.

It's a high-energy tune, with this blue-collar bunch cutting loose and having fun, all their work countered with a little play.

SLYKAT, "Diamond in a Jewel Case" (facebook.com/iamslykat): This Miami transplant seemingly aims to be the hip-hop equivalent of a five-tool ballplayer by displaying a chameleonic skill set here.

In a three track sweep early on "Diamond," he drifts from a full-on club anthem with chirpy female vocals ("I'm So Lucky") to gritty, hard-eyed trap music ("Kount My $") to smoked out old school soul ("Jailhouse Rap").

Slykat samples all styles convincingly, with a commanding, cocksure presence on the mic.

He may lack a clear identity at this point, but he doesn't lack game.

S.F.T., "S.F.T." (reverbnation.com/shitfacedtattoos): S.F.T.'s speed-of-light street punk is the sound of frontman Brian Jones trying to expel his lungs from his body like an angry landlord evicting some deadbeat tenants.

Dude punishes his vocal cords and listeners' sense of calm in one tortured outburst after the next as this bunch serves up 60-second blasts of antagonism and adrenaline.

Raw deals, DUIs and tough luck form the grist of the band's assaultive, no-frills debut, which somehow manages to be as hooky as it is overheated.

You can sing along, or, perhaps more wisely, try and stem the bleeding.

Contact reporter Jason Bracelin at jbracelin@reviewjournal.com
or 702-383-0476.