Atlanta soul retrolutionaries Joi and Dionne Farris do things the old fashioned way: raw, full of ardor, completely from the heart. Their debut albums reject the synthetic, straightening-comb funk that has cheapened R&B, blowing the genre out to its heartfelt origins. These two sistas with voices are fully aware that spontaneity takes place in the present tense.

Joi is a smoldering seductress with a dynamic range: As she describes herself in "Narcissa Cutie Pie," "I tantalize, I mesmerize, I can do whatever I want to." One moment she comes rugged with a rip-roaring wail reminiscent of Patti LaBelle and the next with a breezy high pitch à la Minnie Riperton. Thus, The Pendulum Vibe is an alluring, shifting cybersexual listening experience. Whether panning Joi's screeching voice through an amplifier on "Freedom," laying a pulsating rhythm under "Sunshine and the Rain" or weaving Stax horn lines through "Memories," producer Dallas Austin finds potent musical counterpoints to Joi's voice. Still, some songs aren't as fully realized as others, and it's readily apparent that Joi's best work, despite this solid debut, is yet to come.

Dionne Farris, formerly of Arrested Development, is an older soul. Her voice speaks of rivers and barefoot walks down dirt roads. If Joi is electricity, Dionne is a flickering flame, her sound organic, elemental and radiant. Farris favors a live band as her accompaniment, and Wild Seed – Wild Flower crafts a soul-stirring tapestry of gospel, juke-joint blues, Take 6-style a cappellas, hip-hop scratching and blissful funkadelic metal. The album covers a wide thematic range, from heavy topics like sexual violation ("Don't Ever Touch Me [Again]") and crack addiction ("Stop to Think") to the undying power of love ("Passion") and starting over ("11th Hour"). The best moments come on songs like "Food for Thought" and "Blackbird," where the instrumentation is reduced to a minimum, leaving Farris' voice naked and up front.

Many black folks kicked artists like Tracy Chapman, Joan Armatrading, Living Colour and, earlier, Jimi Hendrix to the curb because they were "different." With a record-buying public completely seduced by the gin 'n' juicy sounds of the G-funk era, it will be a miracle if Joi and Farris break through the walls of stylistic resistance. No matter. In a genre plagued by lackluster, sound-alike riffs, it's a wonderful thing that there are still rare souls who care about making cohesive albums with lasting power. (RS 700)

CHEO H. COKER