The Macrotones' imperial afrofunk assault aims to slay. While rooted in groove-fertile afrobeat, the 10-strong militia's heart pounds with a more sinister urgency. Their commanding horns, drilling percussion section and puzzle-piece precise ideal of songcraft propels minds and dancing feet alike. Placed on bills with reggae, hip-hop and math-rock defenders, the Macrotones have found common ground among devotees of all jams.

Respectful of the Fela Kuti legacy, the Boston collective erupted out of a traditional afrobeat ensemble in 2007 knowing there were new, heavier directions to push toward. They maintained a focus on head-nodding simplicity, but added a face-slapping sting to the style. “Put these guys in tuxedos and they could rock a black wedding to the bone; keep them grimy and they'll continue smacking Boston's underground silly,” wrote the Boston Phoenix. With a low and chunky bari-tenor-trombone horn section up front, a slinky tectonic deep end behind, and grinding organ and edgy guitar popping off all around, the band’s sonic layering serves as a musical tactician’s manual.

Solidly entrenched in Boston, the Macrotones have inspired crowds throughout the rest of New England and New York. Their first record, Wayne Manor – self-recorded, self-produced and self-released in 2008 – provides a snapshot of the crew’s genesis. Described by one critic as “funk as modern as Wu-Tang Clan and as jazzy as old Chicago and Blood, Sweat, and Tears,” the Macrotones are now pushing into darker territory. New tracks currently being recorded for the follow-up have been referred in blogs as “urban adventure soundtrack material” or simply “music for spies.”