All you have to do to see how quickly hipster-hop, with all its cultural accoutrements, is crashing into the mainstream is watch TV for a bit. You might peep the Rhapsody commercial with Chicago's underground neo-retro duo The Cool Kids, or the AT&T spot featuring five real-life sneaker boutiques, or Mickey Avalon -- the Jewish glam-punk MC from L.A. -- in a Boost Mobile commercial headlined by Jermaine Dupri and Young Jeezy. The scene once known only for its "cool factor" and passing interest in the likes of Dipset and Clipse has spawned and anointed a new breed of rap artist -- one that's un-ironically invested in hip-hop and armed with an endless list of painfully cool club DJs.

Arguably the illest and least describable among them is Baltimore native and adopted son of Philadelphia, Spank Rock (real name Naeem Juwan). A bit confusing in its usage, the "Spank Rock" moniker is ascribed both individually to Juwan, the MC, and collectively to his talented and mobile crew of DJs, producers, and fellow performers. The most consistent lineup includes producers Armani XXXchange (Alex Epton), Chris Rockswell (Chris Devlin), Ronnie Darko (Ronald Rubarth), and rapper-singer Amanda Blank (Amanda Mallory).

Spank Rock's brand of music is, first and foremost, a full-tilt pastiche of heavy bass, sleazy electro beats, and decidedly unwholesome, body-conscious lyrical content. It's party rap for un-self-serious hip-hop heads, art school dropouts and girls who date guys with their own t-shirt lines. His debut album YOYOYOYOYO sounds something like a sweaty, illicit rendezvous between a laptop, an 808, Too $hort's old gold tooth, a pair of Dunks, and, like, 30 girls from the Lower East Side. Spank Rock's sound is a perfect storm of Baltimore Club music, known for its frenetic pace and tweaked-out vocal samples; Philly's electronic hip-hop and party-DJ scene (home to Diplo and his Hollertronix); old-school irreverent party rap like Schooly D and the aforementioned Short Dawg; and the 808-laced sounds of Miami Bass.

The latter of these is the acknowledged inspiration behind Spank Rock's latest EP

, a collaboration between Spank Rock (the MC) and DJ/producer Benny Blanco. It's quite actually a five-song tribute to the proud fathers (or maybe "Uncles") of Miami Bass, the original kings of raunch: 2 Live Crew. The influence shines throughout, from the straight sampling to the inclusion of such throwback slang as "hoochie mama" and "dooty hole." But, make no mistake, this is not some laptop DJ and ironic nerd rapper playing dress-up karaoke. As soon as the gong fades out and the beat drops in the opener, "Shake That," it's clear that Mr. Blanco takes this seriously. And he knows his stuff. Much more than your average Pro Tools mix-and-mash job, Blanco uses the Miami sound as a jumping-off point and proceeds to go crazy, infusing the 2 Live Crew sound with the signature electro slap of Spank Rock's previous work. Then, he throws in some New Jack Swing and some viciously spacey synth work that's equal parts European house and Memphis "buck" music -- the best example being the menacingly slowed, Jeezy-meets-trance track Bitch! .

As for MC Spank Rock, his lyrics have always been the kind that might make you blush were you not already dancing like a complete idiot. On Bangers and Cash, he turns up the booty talk to ungodly levels, channeling all the pomp, sleaze, and freakiness of Uncle Luke himself, to an unsettling degree. But this is not an impression, and it's not a joke. Spank is dope on the mic. He adds slickness, wit, and a modicum of irony; the result is irresistible to even the most prudish of prudes. (No lie, B-O-O-T-A-Y would have Tipper Gore dancing bra-less in her living room, holding Al's Oscar like a microphone, yelling, "Let me see your BOOTY drop!" with the windows open.)

As one reviewer from Impose Magazine wrote,

Bangers & Cash manages to take a formula and expand upon it, unlocking an even cruder level of vulgarity... Spank and Blanco are so skilled at the kinky nasty bass style, it feels as though all style originators are tame in comparison.

is a freaked-out, sexed-up, endless party that's been lathered with baby oil and stuffed in a five-song g-string. It's South Beach music just in time for the winter. Throw it on. Get Sweaty.