Mr. Fiddler

This band of ne'er-do-wells from the Motor City drops some stanky, sneaky, nasty toejam funk for all the freakz in the house. The bass squirms, wiggles, and throbs as the keyboards drop dark, ominous licks behind splashy wah-wah guitar stabs. The choruses are tightly arranged group affairs, while solo, the Fiddlers sing in sour but sultry tones that speak of naughty activities in seamy crash pads. And they ain't too proud to beg, neither. Unlike most ultra-smooth contemporary R&B artists, Mr. Fiddler have learned a thing or two from the Funk Mob.