Album Review: "4 Part Nasty Men" by Center Piece
Released back in '96, 4 Part Nasty Men is one of those albums that feels like it came straight outta a dimly lit lounge where smooth vibes and funky grooves collide. Hailing from the US under Smooth Sailing Records (yeah, double-smooth), this project blends Funk, Soul, R&B, Contemporary Jazz, and even a splash of New Jack Swing into something both nostalgic and fresh. If you’re into late-night moods or just need some heat for your playlist, this might be the ticket.
The album kicks off with "Hoochie," which grabs your attention right away. It’s got that slow-burn bassline paired with sultry vocals—impossible not to vibe with. There’s an understated confidence here; no over-the-top theatrics, just pure groove. The track lays down its intentions without saying too much, leaving listeners to fill in the blanks themselves. I remember spinning this one on repeat because it feels like the kind of song made for stolen glances across the room. You know what I mean?
Then there’s "Let’s Get Freaky Tonight (Interlude)", which honestly caught me off guard at first. At barely two minutes long, it's short but packs a punch. This interlude doesn’t waste time—it dives headfirst into seductive beats and whispered promises, setting up the vibe perfectly for whatever comes next. Tracks like these are easy to overlook, but they’re essential glue in keeping the flow tight. Honestly, it’s kinda genius how subtle yet effective it is.
Other standouts include "Beautiful Of You" (a soulful ode to romance) and "Makin’ Love", which leans heavily into smooth jazz territory. These tracks remind you why Center Piece knew their audience—they weren’t afraid to mix intimacy with fun. And if dinner under candlelight sounds cliché, well, Dinner Under Candelight proves otherwise. It’s classy without trying too hard.
What makes 4 Part Nasty Men stick? Maybe it’s the way it balances sensuality with swagger, never tipping too far into either camp. Or maybe it’s the fact that even after all these years, songs like “Hoochie” still sound timeless. Whatever it is, the album has a lived-in quality, like it belongs playing softly in the background during pivotal life moments.
Here’s the kicker though—listening to this now feels almost surreal. Like finding an old Polaroid photo you forgot existed. Sure, some parts feel dated, but isn’t that part of the charm? Music like this doesn’t come around often anymore. So yeah, give it a spin. Just don’t blame me if you find yourself reminiscing about things better left unsaid.
