[MCDE]

I don’t have strong feelings either way about Motor City Drum Ensemble’s “main line” releases for Four Roses or, most recently, 20:20 Vision. But I can’t help but adore his off-the-cuff “Raw Cuts” records. Hastily produced by design, Danilo Plessow tries not to over think the music. His goal is to take just two hours to assemble a track from samples of soul, funk, and disco and his own custom beats, slam down the hood, and put them on the road. If it’s just mucking about in the shop for Plessow, though, last month’s Resident Advisor charts indicate DJs are all too happy to field test the results. And it’s easy to see why — these deep, soulful tracks are hugely infectious, backing uptempo immediacy with what seems (at least so far) to be a lasting shine. Though the “Motor City” of his chosen moniker also refers to the German auto mecca Plessow calls home (that’s Stuttgart), there’s no denying a certain Detroit classicism on these records. From the well-insulated thump of the kick drum to the velvety organ chords, Plessow certainly isn’t hiding his Moodymann CDs in the glove box.

“#3/#4” may still be the record to beat, but the third “Raw Cuts” package shouldn’t disappoint anyone who enjoyed its predecessors. A baseball stadium-sized organ dominates “#5,” switching between firm jabs and slow exhalations of melody. Echoing handclaps create a rallying, good times sway. Mood and groove, meanwhile, come on loan from vintage soul records, which Plessow cuts and splices with a nod to his formative years listening to hip-hop (and there’s plenty here that reminds me of Pete Rock). The vocal samples play out for longer, less restricted stretches than we’ve heard on previous “Raw Cuts” installments. Of course, when you’re working with extracts from a stone cold classic like Barbara Lynn’s “I’m A Good Woman,” that’s bound to happen. As with the earlier records, the vocals are crucial to the stylish, sultry magic. Plessow should avoid over-seasoning, though — the canned audience noise is perhaps a little too on the nose, citing a vibe and setting that the sassy rhythm guitar conjures on its own. On the back, “#6” works a more twilit atmosphere. A stern, low kick keeps time over a continuous ribbon of throbbing, deep bass and a murmur of ghostly moans. It’s the high end, though, that entrances me, with twinkling — even luminescent — electric keys of the kind I’m used to hearing alongside Minnie Riperton’s voice. A looping diva sample and some buoyant hand percussion give this gentle track some boost, but the music box-like melody of those keys lets the track drift off into soft-focus daydream territory, making “#6” an irresistibly alluring pillow of a track. Does any of this break new ground in the genre? Perhaps not, but to be honest, when these records are playing, it’s not formal innovation I’m looking for, but the volume control.