Music fans should be used to the fact that we’re on track to have every band from the ’90s reunited, from the cult bands to the stadium-packers. It seems inevitable that the 20-year nostalgia bubble will soon make everything old, new again. The latest up to the plate, after a 14-year hiatus, is Luscious Jackson. After reconvening to record a children’s album a few years ago, the band decided to turn their focus to a proper follow-up to their last record. The result is the self-released Magic Hour.

As the first band signed to the Beastie Boys’ Grand Royal, label, the band debuted to a large and curious audience.  But while the Beasties were a brash mix of hip-hop, punk, and jazzy downtempo grooves at that point, Luscious Jackson lived in a world built on dusty lo-fi samples and loops that, while sharing some DNA with hip-hop, seemed to exist in another universe. Add to that the deadpan vocals and guitar playing of Gabby Glaser, the more melodic vocals of bassist Jill Cunniff, and the in-the-pocket backbeat of Kate Schellenback and Search of Manny, their EP debut, was a weird mix of familiar and brand new. Soon after they added keyboardist Vivian Trimble, and it was off to the races with two more records as a four-piece before Trimble left the fold and the core trio exited with 1999’s swansong, Electric Honey.

The one thread that runs through all of the Luscious Jackson catalog—even as the production became cleaner and the songcraft more refined—has always been the groove. Hence, it’s no surprise that even so many years later, Magic Hour sounds unapologetically like a Luscious Jackson record. It could be slotted either right before or right after the first full-length, Natural Ingredients. It’s not as polished as they have been, but it’s not a 4-track throwback. Or to put it another way, it’s not “Naked Eye” or “Ladyfingers,” but it’s also not “Daughters Of Kaos.”  It’s a warm record that showcases what made the group enjoyable. While they don’t delve deep into the ESG-influenced groove of their past (most songs hover around the three-minute mark), there’s plenty of dancefloor fodder. Lyrically, Cunniff and Glaser keep things pretty light and party-oriented, but they do take a moment to pen a tribute to their friendship (“You And Me”) and their late friend Adam “MCA” Yauch (“We Go Back”). There’s no world-beating radio hit, but as a reunion album goes, Magic Hour is an enjoyable, unembarrassed ride.