September 18th, 2007
Dave Longstreth, the lead singer of the The Dirty Projectors is really smart. Like smarter than me smart. Like smarter than you smart. Like smarter than a 5th grader smart. He went to Yale, dropped out, moved to Brooklyn, formed a band and proceeded to acquire himself a wardrobe that would fit right at home in a Positive K video and/or an Andrew Lloyd Webber productions that may or may not include a so-called “dreamcoat.”
He is also probably a genius of some sort. Mike Powell sums it up pretty perfectly in the first line of his Pitchfork review when he declares that “like a lot of visionaries, [he] is so full of bright ideas he can barely keep his shit together. Part of the problem is that he’s indiscriminate about what he eats: Gustav Mahler, reggaetón, Malian guitar music, Cole Porter, band members.”
On-stage, Longstreth doesn’t move much and he barely talks. Insteads, he seems permanently trapped inside a mathematical mind, rocking an over-sized black hoodie that swallows the entirety of his face, like a fully-grown hipster Kenny from South Park, one who’s really into urban dystopias and afro-pop. His music is like music critic catnip: difficult, oft-scattershot and often wildly original. It’s not the kind of music that you’d ever expect to hear from a car stereo unless an total apocalypse occurred and mysteriously spared everyone but the staffs of Internet music magazines.
For Their Next Album, The Dirty Projectors Will Re-Imagine Who Framed Roger Rabbit, Entirely From Memory
I suppose on paper, I probably shouldn’t like the Dirty Projectors. They’re purposely weird. They make music devoid of any sort of catchiness. And in-person they can come off aloof, more interested in exploring sonic possibilities than entertaining an audience. Yet taken as a whole they’re one of the most-interesting and promising bands working today. A prodiguously talented group, with a highly intelligent front-man, whose only liability is that at times he can get too smart for his own good, suffering from a million clever ideas flooding his head at all times, unsure exactly how to perfectly parse the good from the bad.
Squiggly afro-pop guitar lines, powerful quasi-math rock drums and gorgeous three-part harmonies buoyed by Longstreth’s strong Jim James-if-he-were- singing-underwater voice are following by spastic un-focused noise jams. But more often than not it works and even when it doesn’t, the Projectors’ talent is always salient, both live and on Rise Above, their recent sorta’ but not really cover album of the Black Flag record with the same title , that Longstreth claims he re-imagined entirely from memory after not having listened to it since middle school.
Like many bands with experimental leanings, the Dirty Projectors are certainly an acquired taste and I sense that they’re probably going to get a whole lot better if Longstreth can harness his creativity and focus long enough to create something a bit more seamless and cohesive. While I’m not yet sold on the band’s greatness, I don’t think they’re very far off either. Plus, I can’t wait to hear Longstreth’s next project, a re-imagining of The College Dropout. I’m relatively certain that The DP’s will do a killer version of “The New Workout Plan.”
Download:
MP3: The Dirty Projectors-”No More”
Bonus:
MP3: Kanye West-”The New Workout Plan”
Posted in Beards, Blazers, & Glasses | No Comments »
September 17th, 2007
I caught Wolf Parade at the El Rey last Thursday night. It’d been nearly a year since they last came to town and I’ll admit I’d been worried that the songs from their forthcoming record might not live up to the enormous expectations I had for them. But after watching the band absolutely kill it, I’m reasonably certain that not only will their next album be great, it’ll cement their status as one of the most important bands of this generation. Yeah, hyperbole I know. But you weren’t there and I was. As was my cousin, who pronounced it the best show he’s ever seen. Of course, he’s 19 and in the Jewish fraternity at UCSB, but hey, the kid’s kinda’ right otherwise.
As for me, it might not have been the best show I’ve ever seen (here’s looking at you, My Morning Jacket last New Year’s Eve at the Fillmore) but it was probably the best performance I’ve seen this year. I wrote about the show for Kevin Bronson’s Buzz Bands Blog, so check it out if you’re interested.
Wolf Parade Review at Buzz Bands Blog
Download:
MP3: Wolf Parade-”Disco Sheets”
MP3: Wolf Parade-”Shine a Light”
MP3: Wolf Parade-”You Are A Runner and I Am My Father’s Son”
Bonus-A very weird and very cool Wolf Parade cover from my man, Douglas “Fresh Cherries From Yakima” Martin
MP3: Fresh Cherries from Yakima-”You are a Runner and I am My Father’s Son”
Links Presented By My Other Favorite Wolf
LA Citybeat did a profile of LA’s best of the web and included The Passion, not to mention some of my other favorite local bloggers including Justin “Aquarium Drunkard” Gage, Ashley “Rock Insider” Jex, and Kevin Roderick’s LA Observed.
So Much Silence picks out his 10 least favorite lines from Graduation.
Scott McDonald, of Little Radio and formerly of Autopia has a new blog: Surfing on Steam
The Blowtorch breaks down the similarities between Kanye and Lebron James.
Ha Ha Music: Certainly nothing to laugh at.
Thankfully, Crime Notes of Cole Slaw Blog is a total liar and has made a triumphant comeback after promising that he’s retiring from the blog world.
The Philadelphyinz have a new mix up. Go get it.
Posted in LA Times | 8 Comments »
September 14th, 2007
When the Go! Team emerged in late 2004, it finally became clear what the Avalanches had been doing for the last half decade: taking gravity bong rips, staying up all night eating Lucky Charms, and watching Season 1 of “ChiPs” and “Magnum P.I.” At least, that was the impression you got from their debut, Thunder, Lightning Strike, a sugary concoction of ‘80s cop show themes, pre-Run DMC hip-hop, and the occasional Sonic Youth guitar jag. And like the concept of getting stoned, ingesting ungodly amounts of glucose, and battling sleep to find out whether Ponch and John would nab the bad-guys and get the girl, Thunder was pretty awesome, but certainly not the sort of thing you figured to be fucking with on the regular.
But the debut aged strikingly well, with repeated listens revealing a surprising emotional resonance beneath its glazed patina of pastiche. That’s because despite what the Go! Team’s fluorescent pep rally live set might imply, Thunder was really the brain-child of a former archeology documentary filmmaker named Ian Parton recording in a bedroom in Brighton with a bunch of crappy ’80s sound equipment and an Atari, sampling everything from Wild Style to Clash documentaries to the Supremes. It was the rare record that felt out of its time but very much of it, devoid of irony, sonically inventive yet philosophically anachronistic.
Thunder managed to be a minor sensation, ultimately getting Barton and his Benetton band a whole lot of critical acclaim, licensing opportunities, and a deal with Sub Pop. Even Thomas Sullivan Magnum IV, private investigator, would’ve approved. So it’s understandable that on round #2, Parton and company would follow the Room on Fire/Antics approach and drop a short sophomore effort that further refines their singular aesthetic.
Never Trust A Man With a Mustache
Of course, there are differences between the two records, most dramatically in the sequel’s use of vocals. Whereas large swaths of Thunder was devoted to moody instrumentals, Proof of Youth bears the effect of Ninja’s increasingly prominent role within the band; something that works great in the live setting, but not so much on wax, as her rhymes seem solely from the “On and On to the Break of Dawn” school of lyricism. That said, the record’s flow isn’t hampered much: her old-school raps fit perfectly with the group’s retro vibe. Besides, nearly all the record’s vocals are drowned in a whirling haze of noise, a production technique that yields perhaps the first good Chuck D song since the title track from the He Got Game soundtrack.
The record is almost relentlessly upbeat, as though fame has gotten to Parton’s head, but instead of wanting to do normal rock star things like buying $1,000 bottles of booze to go with their $1,000 hookers, all he wants to do is rent out Rockefeller Center, invite Mike Post, Kim Gordon, and a bunch of girls playing Double Dutch on the corner and have them ice skate while Terminator X DJ’s. It’s certainly a spectacle, but not much more.
Proof of Youth is a satisfying sophomore effort, but its inability to sonically expand beyond its predecessor leaves one wondering whether album #3 will be of the ho-hum First Impressions of Earth/Our Love to Admire variety. It’s sort of like eating your second consecutive bowl of Lucky Charms. Pretty good, but a little more saccharine than you remember the first go-round being, with the accompanying sugar rush a little more dizzying and a little less pleasant. He might want to switch to Frosted Flakes next time.
Download:
MP3: The Go Team-”Grip It Like a Vice”
MP3: The Go Team-”Huddle Formation” (RJD2 Remix)
Posted in Album Reviews | 2 Comments »
September 13th, 2007
Happy Rosh Hashanah. Or as I should say to my fellow Reform Jewish brethren, congratulations on getting the day off work to go to temple, and may you celebrate that achievement by eating at least three wheelbarrows full of kugel. Good times. So in honor of the Jewish New Year, what better time than to discuss the achievements of ten of the greatest musicians to ever be saddled with an unwieldy last name. Tune in tomorrow for the riveting conclusion, the Top 10 Musicians Barred from the Sedar for Life. Maybe.
10. David Lee Roth (circa 1985)
Real Name: David Lee Roth
Why You’d Want Him at Your Sedar: Why on earth wouldn’t you want Diamond David Lee Roth at your sedar. There would be few greater things on earth than the chance to see Diamond Dave in all his spandex jumpsuit hair metal glory telling his “bubbe” about his inspired re-interpretation of the Tin Pan Alley favorite, “Just a Gigolo.” He also wrote the song “Panama.” Which is cool.
Download:
MP3: Van Halen-”Panama” (Live at Castle Donnington 8.18.1984)
9. Perry Farrell (circa 1988)
Real Name: Peretz Bernstein
Why : For the opportunity to ask whether the above photo was a during his “gay matador/hooker” phase.
Download:
MP3: Jane’s Addiction-”Jane Says”
8. Randy California of Spirit
Born: Randy Craig Wolfe
Why: For being the heart and soul of one of the most over-looked bands of the 60s and for being invited to be in the Jimi Hendrix Experience at age 15, but most importantly, for actually getting people to call him Randy California with a straight face.
Download:
MP3: Spirit-”Animal Zoo”
7. Robbie Robertson of The Band
Born: Jaime Robert Robertson
Why: Who even knew that Robbie Robertson was half-Jewish? Not me. But apparently the menschs at Jewsrock.org did. In other news, who knew there was a website called jewsrock.org?
Download:
MP3: The Band-”Up on Cripple Creek”
6. Jonathan Richman of The Modern Lovers
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Born: Contrary to popular belief, Jonathan Richman was not the real name of the Modern Lovers’ lead singer. His real name was Isaac Goldberg. Richman wisely altered it to avoid anti-semitism.
Why: I’m pretty sure I went to Hebrew School once with a kid named Jonathan Richman. He was nice enough. Had curly hair, wore wool sweaters, liked the acoustic guitar. Then one day, he called me up and was like “I’m going to go to New York to sleep on Lou Reed’s couch.” I told him, Lou Reed just doesn’t let people sleep on his couch. At least with clothes on.” But he didn’t listen and the next thing I knew….
Download :
MP3: The Modern Lovers-”Pablo Picasso”
5. Joey Ramone of the Ramones
Born: Jeffrey Ross Hyman
Why: His name was Jeffrey Ross Hyman. Fuck starting punk rock. The fact that Joey Ramone made it out of Junior High Sex Ed class alive is a minor miracle.
MP3: The Ramones-” Blitzkrieg Bop”
4. Lou Reed
Born: Lewis Rabinowitz
Why: Because Lou Reed is really just a kvetching Jewish grandpa (with slightly better hair.)
MP3: The Velvet Underground-”Beginning to See the Light”
3. Marc Bolan of T. Rex
Born: Mark Feld
Why: For naming his son Rolan Bolan. Also for coming back to earth as Cam’ron.
Download:
MP3: T. Rex-”Mambo Sun”
2. Serge Gainsbourg
Born: Lucien Ginzberg
Why: Self-explanatory.
Download:
MP3: Serge Gainsbourg-”Ballade De Melody Nelson”
1. Bob Dylan
Born: Robert Allen Zimmerman
Why: Without Bob Dylan, David Lee Roth wouldn’t have known how to blow dry his hair, Serge Gainsbourg wouldn’t have known how to skeeze and Lou Reed wouldn’t know how to look like a prune. Dylan is like the Jewish Jackie Robinson. Except he’s instead of integrating major league baseball, he saved Jewish kids all across the world from having to look up to Benny Goodman.
Never Again
Download:
MP3: Bob Dylan-”Subterranean Homesick Blues”
Posted in Are You From the Lester Bangs School of Thought?, Best Of | 10 Comments »
September 12th, 2007
Madlib sounds better when you’re stoned. This is a pretty widely known fact, one that I have personally verified over several years of dedicated empiricism. Sure, there have been detours over the course of his eight years of rapping/producing/DJing. In particular, the Shades of Blue jazz record only sounded better if you were high and above the age of 72. But, for the most part, the Oxnard-raised man born Otis Jackson Jr. has built his rep on the symbiotic relationship between potheads and music that, to quote Jon Stewart in Half Baked, sounds better when you’re “on weed.”
Pot heads are a loyal bunch, united in a loose confederacy based on a mutual admiration of Slurpees and Sour Diesel. Perhaps the only other thing they can agree on is that they typically like songs that sound better when you’re high or songs about how good it is to be high. Preferably both. This is why Cypress Hill boasted a sterling 92 percent approval rating from high school-aged stoners from 1992 to 1998. Indeed, Hill scored points by benefiting from both the irresistible combination of B-Real’s lyrics about taking hits from the bong and the ingenious way in which Mugs flipped a Dusty Springfield sample into a stoner anthem that will last until the last bong melts from global warming-related heat sometime in the year 2254.
Madlib is the heir to the throne that Cypress vacated sometime around “Rap Superstar.” He’s the new master of dropping laid-back beats that strut with a hypnotic, head-nodding ease—beats that sound better and were presumably composed under the salubrious effects of strong California chronic. And if by some odd chance that Madlib isn’t higher than whoever conceived the idea for “Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader,” he’s certainly gone out of his way to convince people otherwise, titling songs “Weeded It” and “America’s Most Blunted.” Not to mention naming an entire album Blunted in the Bomb Shelter.
Blunted in the Bomb Shelter: Great Album Title or Greatest Album Title?
Of course, making great music for stoners is never the best way to get critical respect. This is probably why Madlib’s name is rarely mentioned outside of cipher circles as one of the five best producers in hip-hop. And whenever he is mentioned, it’s always in the token underground slot, and always behind the likes of guys like Just Blaze and 9th Wonder, or newbies like Polow Da Don and DJ Toomp. Whoever they are.
But in just eight short years, Madlib has assembled one of the strongest discographies of any rapper/producer ever. From his debut under the Lootpack moniker (Soundpieces: Da Antidote) to the experimental funk/jazz/hip-hop of Yesterday’s New Quintet, to Champion Sound and Madvillain, to jazz and reggae records, Madlib is perhaps the most prolific pothead in the history of potdom, standing as living and breathing proof that Nancy Reagan was completely full of shit.
In that vein, Vol. 3 in the Beat Konducta series is another banger for the blunted set, one that will fly largely under the radar, ignored in the frenzy to lavish praise or heap derision upon another much more famous rapper/producer’s album that drops next week. Like its predecessor, last year’s similarly strong Beat Konducta Vol. 1-2: Movie Scenes, Vol. 3 scores an imaginary film. Unlike the previous collection that focused on stitching together a bunch of ridiculously listenable funk and soul samples, however, this time Madlib draws his inspiration from India, crafting a seamless 29 minute mix of looped sitars and gritty dusty drums, patches of Bollywood dialogue, and Redman vocal samples. Oriental flutes and vinyl crackle. Think of it as the hip-hop version of the sub-continental soundtrack that Thora Birch gets down to in the first scene of Ghost World.
At this point in his career, Madlib has gotten it down to a science. It’s not a complicated record. It’s not trying to be anything more than an ideal soundtrack for a night when you’ve ordered Indian takeout and want to chill out and let your mind breathe while devouring a delicious plate of Lamb Curry and Cheese Naan. I’m sure people will enjoy it sober just fine. And if you don’t, perhaps you might want to follow the prescription of Madlib’s illustrious predecessors: roll it up, light it up, smoke it up, inhale, exhale.
Originally Published at Stylus
Download:
MP3: Madlib the Beat Konducta-”Indian Deli”
MP3: Madlib the Beat Konducta-”Sitar Ride”
Posted in Album Reviews | 5 Comments »
September 10th, 2007
My name is Jeff Weiss and I approve of Zilla’s message.
So last weekend I was involved in a HEATED hip hop argument (as most hip hop arguments are). and one of the main points was my contention that Jay-Z is the greatest MC of all time. Of course, that opened up an entire can of worms. What do you base “the greatest of all-time” on? Lyrical skills? Style? Influence? Discography? Battles? Hit singles? Trends set? Stability and consistency? Ability to sleep with other rappers’ babies mamas?
For my money, Jay-Z annihilates Nas and Biggie in every category and since Biggie was murdered prematurely, I’m not going to instantly give him the crown just because not a single rapper can say a verse without name dropping Chris Wallace. Sorry folks, he died after Life After Death was finished. Do the math. Two great albums to Jay-Z’s three, so he’s done. (Blame Puffy. I, along with Voletta Wallace, Lil’ Cease, The Lox, Charli Baltimore, Lane “Un Rivera,” Faith Evans, the Harlem Boys Coir, Carrot Top, Dan Akroyd and Hank Gathers already have.)
What was left was an argument between myself and a Nas fan who will eat a plate of Nas-sponsored horse shit and tell himself that it’s hot apple pie (also known as Nastradamus). These Nas fans are the worst. I myself WORSHIP at the altar of Nasir Jones, but you can’t tell me I Am is a classic, or even above average for that matter. As Nas stans are wont to do, he wasn’t having any of that crazy objectivity/logic/common sense. bullshit. No, no no; he honestly believed “Rewind” was a better song than Jay-Z’s “U Don’t Know,” a song that kickstarted Just Blaze’s career and found Jay absolutely MURDERING the biggest banger of his career thus far.
Nasty Nas To Esco to Escobar, Now He is Nastragarbage
My overriding point was that yes, Nas is amazing. Nas has 2 great albums under his belt. He’s made some ridiculously outstanding songs. But Jay-Z makes better ALBUMS. So in order to scientifically prove it to the world, I decided to devise a log of Songs I Like Per Album (SILPA). This is highly scientific method that I created, (since I am brilliant) is a list of the studio albums released by Nas (Lost Tapes and QB’s Finest don’t count) and Jay-Z (those R. Kelly and Linkin Park CD’s don’t count). I then divided the number of Songs I Like Per Album (SILPA) by the total number of songs on the album and came up with a percentage.
I’ve been buying rap albums my whole life. After 5 listens, I know what songs I don’t like. Since rap albums always have WAY too many songs on them, I usually look at a rap album to be “good” if 50% of the album is skippable. For example, if Lloyd Banks has 18 tracks on his new album and I skip 9, then it’s an “average/good” album.
The breakdown:
0-10%= A Disaster of Epic Proportions (i.e. The Macho Man Randy Savage Album)
11-20%= The Artist Should Kill Themselves (most No Limit records fall into this rating)
21-30%= Putrid (The last few Eminem releases)
31-40%= Kind Crappy But Has It’s Moments
41-50%= Average/Good (80 percent of my CD collection)
51-60%= Very Good
61-70%= This Sh*t is Bangin
71-80%= Excellent
81-100%= Classic
Be A Man….A Macho Macho Man
Here’s the intense study that took me a mind-numbing 13 minutes and literally ten’s of clicks on Wikipedia to hook up:
Nas Songs I like Per Album (NSILPA):
Illmatic
Songs I Like: 8 out of 9 (PS. Sorry “One Time 4 Your Mind”)
SILPA Raint=88% (CLASSIC)
It Was Written
Songs I Like: 11 out of 15
SILPA Rating=73% (EXCELLENT)
I Am…
Songs I Like: 8 out of 16
SILPA Rating=50% (AVERAGE/GOOD)
Nastradamus
Songs I Like: 3 out of 15
SILPA Rating=20% (THE ARTIST SHOULD KILL HIMSELF)
Stillmatic
Songs I Like: 8 out of 14
SILPA Rating=57% (VERY GOOD)
God’s Son
Songs I Like: 4 out of 14
SILPA Rating=29% (PUTRID)
Street’s Disciple
Songs I Like: Disc one: 5 out of 12=42%
Songs I Like: Disc two: 5 out of 13=38%
SILPA Rating=40% (KINDA CRAPPY BUT HAS ITS MOMENTS)
Hip Hop is Dead
Songs I Like: 8 out of 16
SILPA Rating=50% (AVERAGE/GOOD)
SILPA Results: I like 51% of Nas songs per album (VERY GOOD)
Jay-Z Songs I Like Per Album (JSILPA)
Reasonable Doubt
Songs I Like: 14 out of 15 (PS. Sorry “Coming of Age”)
SILPA Rating=93% (CLASSIC)
Vol. 1 In My Lifetime…
Songs I Like: 7 out of 14
SILPA Rating=50% (AVERAGE/GOOD)
Vol. 2 Hard Knock Life
Songs I Like: 6 out of 14
SILPA Rating=43% (AVERAGE/GOOD)
Vol. 3 Life and Times of S. Carter
Songs I Like: 6 out of 15
SILPA Rating=40% (KINDA CRAPPY BUT HAS ITS MOMENTS)
The Dynasty: Roc La Familia
Songs I Like: 11 out of 16
SILPA Rating=69% (THIS SH*T IS BANGIN’)
Blueprint
Songs I Like: 12 out of 13 (PS. Sorry “H to the Izzo”)
SILPA Rating=92% (CLASSIC)
Blueprint 2: The Gift and the Curse
Songs I Like: Disc One: 5 out of 11=45%
Songs I Like: Disc Two: 4 out of 14=29%
SILPA Rating=36% (KINDA CRAPPY BUT HAS ITS MOMENTS)
The Black Album
Songs I Like: 11 out of 14
SILPA Rating=79% (EXCELLENT)
Kingdom Come
Songs I Like: 6 out of 14
SILPA Rating=43% (AVERAGE/GOOD)
SILPA RESULTS: I like 61% of Jay-Z songs per album (THIS SH*T IS BANGIN’)
As you can clearly see from my vastly detailed and phenomenally executed experiment, Jay-Z wins with an overall SILPA Rating of 61% (This Sh*t is Bangin’) for his recording career versus Nas’ score of 51% (Very Good). The overall trend for Jay-Z is that the less number of songs on each album he released, the better their chances of me liking more songs. I like 13 of 14 cuts on Reasonable Doubt compared to 9 of 25 cuts on Blueprint 2.
With Nas, who’s been wildly inconsistent with his beat selection post-It Was Written, I’ve never liked more than 8 songs on any album made since 1996. Even Jay-Z’s most statistically pathetic album Blueprint 2 with a score of 36% (Kinda Crappy But Has Its Moments) is still more tolerable than Nastradamus’ score of 20% (The Artist Should Kill Himself). And there you have it—science steps up to the plate and easily backs my argument that Jay-Z is the GOAT. Read it and weep, bitches.
Download:
MP3: Jay-Z-”U Don’t Know”
MP3: Jay-Z-”Hey Papi”
MP3: Nas-”Take It in Blood“
MP3: Nas-”NY State of Mind”
Posted in The Beat Generation | 30 Comments »
September 10th, 2007
So this is it. The week you’ve all been kinda,’ sorta,’ waiting for: the face-off between Kanye and 50. But rather than do another “Kanye’s record is better than 50’s,” review, I’ve written a feature for the LA Weekly on the politics of both 50 Cent and Kanye West. Needless to say, 50’s the Republican and Kanye rolls with the Dems. I think it’s one of the better things I’ve written, so I hope you guys check it out.
LA Weekly-Decision 2007: Kanye Vs. 50
Download:
MP3: Kanye West-”Everything I Am ft. DJ Premier)” (left-click)
MP3: Kanye West-”Stronger” (left-click)
MP3: 50 Cent-”I Get Money”
MC Rove: An Enormous 50 Cent Fan
Blogs are for Dogs has re-upped all the tracks from Pitchfork’s Best 200 Songs of the 60s list.
Ear Farm goes goth (aerobics).
From Da Bricks analyzes Q-Tip’s unsung production technique.
The Gorilla (no Monsoon) has a track from Caribou’s tour only CD-R.
Aquarium Drunkard has MP3’s of Neil Young’s Time Fades Away, a very solid record still unreleased on CD.
Fellow Stylus writer Dan Weiss (not related), rips Justin Timberlake’s recent HBO special, makes a fellow Weiss glad.
Poisonous Paragraphs reviews the 50 and Kanye records so I don’t have to (because honestly, wild zontars couldn’t make me sit through a full listen of Curtis)
Zilla breaks down Wu-Tang Forever over at Souled On Music, thankfully forgets to discuss “Black Shampoo.”
Posted in LA Weekly | 4 Comments »
September 7th, 2007
Few have done better than the Def Jux crew in capturing the twitchy fractured neurotransmitters of the George Bush/Paris Hilton American schizophrenia of the ‘00s. Carving out a subterranean fiefdom out of odd-ball eclecticism and non-conformity, the Jukies have less in common with other rap labels than they with another chain-smoking bohemian NYC-based collective, one who emerged in response to what writer Michael McLure called the “gray, chill, militaristic silence…the intellective void…the spiritual drabness” of Eisenhower America.
By now you’re probably rolling your eyes at another tired musician-writer analogy, perhaps the most tired trope in the shallow bag of music writing. Fair enough. But there are more than a few parallels between Def Jux and the Beats. El-P, the oldest of the crew, the one that brought all these divergent personalities together, plays the role of William Burroughs, dropping a traditional but still experimental leaning debut (Junkie, Funcrusher Plus), before evolving into a master of the cut-up, ginsu’ing voices and words into an avant-garde masterpiece that will probably be in the canon for the next half-century (Naked Lunch, I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead).
Cannibal Ox play the role of Kerouac, dropping a solitary classic (Cold Vein, On the Road) and subsequently squandering any and all opportunities before fading into drunken/stoned anonymity (though to be fair, I’ll take Big Sur and Dharma Bums any day over Vordul and Vast Aire’s solo jaunts). Cage plays the role of Gregory Corso right down to the salad bowl haircut, sordid background, unfiltered honesty, and late arrival to the crew. Mr. Lif is Amiri Baraka right down to the last bit of sulfurous Marxism.
And The Beats Go On
Then there’s Aesop Rock, recently re-located to San Francisco after a long stint in New York, and the toughest to pigeonhole. Many hip-hop heads wrongly dismiss him as too nerdy (read: white), but even the most staunch haters can’t deny his strong voice, a husky growl stained with the tar of a million Marlboros, or his skills, honed in the live chaos of New York City ciphers. Inevitably, the beef comes down to his lyrics, a Gordian knot of surrealist images that jag with the ordered chaos of an Allen Ginsberg poem, one transmitted through a filter of Wild Style, Run DMC, and Ghostface. In his eight years rapping, Rock has sketched everything from dystopian satires invoking “30-foot Bob Barker’s come to incinerate New York” to neighborhood snapshots of what Ginsberg called the “sun and moon and tree vibrations in the roaring winter dusks of Brooklyn.”
Bursting into the collective consciousness of the underground circa 2001, Rock’s “Howl” was “Daylight,” a flawless mission statement, one that both men were wise enough to know could never be re-created. Similar in spirit, both works became de-facto anthems for a generation of alienated teenagers and young adults who really, really didn’t want to work. But just like you can’t blame Ginsberg for inadvertently spawning the beatniks, who spawned the hipsters, who continue to clog up coffeehouses with bad poetry to this very day; you can’t blame Aesop Rock for having a fan-base described by Evan McGarvey as “gobs of white kids…fans of Mastodon and the Rx Bandits…for whom Aesop is one of their only hip-hop-centered item of interest.”
But None Shall Pass is nothing like the song set that won him the heart of your local bong-toting metal-head. None Shall Pass isn’t a brilliantly composed complaint like Labor Days. It’s a more mature reflective work, one from an artist just north of 30 looking back on his past, penning 14 coherent cryptograms with a clear-eyed sobriety.
Aesop Rock during his short-lived “Crossing Guard” Phase
On “Catacomb Kids,” Aesop reflects on his Long Island childhood as a “dark dumb” student getting stressed by the cops for a couple of “spray cans and some litter.” “Fumes” harrowingly details a relationship crumpling under the weight of a shared drug habit that spirals into suicide. “39 Thieves” manages to put a fresh spin on the capitalistic rat-race, by purposely staying obtuse and veering away from the simplistic “money = really really bad” or “money = really, really good” dichotomy that usually divides the underground and mainstream.
After handling most of Bazooka Tooth himself, Rock has wisely re-enlisted Blockhead, perhaps the most underrated producer in underground hip-hop, for seven beats, each of is which is a stunner. In particular, two stand out as among the best of his career: “No City,’ with its swooning strings, bursts of frazzled guitar, and jazzy keys sounds like a lost RZA beat from 1995; while “None Shall Pass” is a dizzying blur of ping-pong video game beats that sound like what you’d expect nu-rave to sound like if it was actually good.
Producing five beats himself, Aesop’s production has improved from his earliest attempts behind the boards. He’s settled nicely into his own sound, somewhere between Blockhead’s neo-boom bap and El-P’s futuristic robot funk. Sonically, the record feels the loosest of Aesop’s career, as though San Francisco’s mellow West Coast vibe has seeped into his music and cadences. None Shall Pass may or may not be the best album in Aesop Rock’s discography, but it might be the most fun to listen to. Call it his San Francisco Renaissance.
Originally Published at Stylus
Download:
MP3: Aesop Rock-”None Shall Pass” (right-click)
MP3: Aesop Rock-”Citronella” (right-click)
Posted in Album Reviews | 9 Comments »
September 6th, 2007
Before I get besieged with the “why aren’t Slick Rick, Rakim, Kool G Rap, Nas, Ghostface, Pharoahe, etc. on your list” e-mails, remember this is a list of the most UNDERRATED rappers, not the best. As the title of the post states, this is highly subjective and very little scientific research has been done. In fact, no scientific research has been done. It’s only intent is to spark discussion about some slept-on rappers and hopefully entertain for a moment as we continue to slug through the post-Labor Day malaise.
10. Chali 2na of J5
Remove Chali 2na from J5 and they’d have just been four slightly above-average MC’ rappers who really really liked The Cold Crush Brothers and really really hated “sucka MCs” . With 2na, J5 was arguably the best underground act to bubble up at out of the West Coast in the late 90s. Chalk it up to his commanding baritone and quicksilver delivery that made you instantly snap to attention. With a resounding preacher’s cadence, 2na played with syllables like a yo-yo, draping a nimble and graceful flow across a beat before snapping off an anvil-hard coda at the end of every 16 bars. Forget the Dave Matthews-collaborations of the end of J5’s run. Think back to the first time you ever heard “Concrete Schoolyard,” and don’t even try to pretend that you weren’t impressed.
Download:
MP3: Jurassic 5-”Concrete Schoolyard”
9. Treach of Naughty By Nature
Dig that old tape of Naughty by Nature’s eponymous debut out of the closet. Listen to the first five tracks and remember exactly how good Treach was in his prime. Straight from the Bricks, oozing with vicious swagger and rage, Treach rhymes circles around Kay Gee’s homicidal piano keys and sinister drums like DMX minus the the pit-bull rapper gimmick and the creepy homoeroticism. Few rappers could flip slice-of-ghetto-life tales as tragically resonant as “Everything’s Gonna’ Be Alright” and then in the next breathe drop one the 10 best party songs of all-time. Don’t believe me? Pay attention to the next time you’re at a party and “O.P.P.” comes on.
Download:
MP3: Naughty By Nature-”O.P.P.”
8. Sticky Fingaz of Onyx
There are few things lamer than the thought of a roomful of 11-year old Jewish kids slam-dancing at a junior high school dance. But it was not our fault. Onyx were that good. “Slam” was punk rock for hip-hop heads, hardcore years before M.O.P. But what sets Sticky Fingaz apart from the pack was his criminally slept-on, 2001, solo debut, Blacktrash: The Autobiography of Kirk Jones. An ambitious and frequently brilliant concept record about a felon recently released from prison and struggling to cope with terms with life on the outside, Sticky Fingaz dropped an unlikely classic.
Download:
MP3: Sticky Fingaz-”What Chu Want”
7. Royce Da’ 5′9″
If only there was some alternate 1985 where I’d never heard the names 50 Cent, D-12, Prob Stat (or whatever his name is) and the rest of the no-talents at Shady records. I stead, Eminem focused his attention on Royce Da’ 5′9, the only dude he ever rolled with that was any good. From “Bad Meets Evil” to “Boom,” to his ghost-writing a large chunk of Chronic 2001, Royce has had his share of great moments. This year’s slept-on and remarkably consistent, The Bar Exam, is probably the years best mixtape. Despite all the label drama and incarceration, Royce is still just 30 (no latte rap) and if he ever does make that album with Premier, he still has a good shot at dropping the classic he’s capable of.
Download:
MP3: Royce Da’ 5′9-”Who Want It”
6. Dres of Black Sheep
While his other contemporaries in the Native Tongues went on to become legends, Dres of Black Sheep became something of an after-thought. Sure, A Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing occasionally pops up on lists of the greatest albums of all-time, but little attention is paid to exactly how good Dres actually was. From the pinpoint gangsta-rap satire of “U Mean I’m Not” to the life lessons imparted in “Strobelite Honey” to the to train car rumble of “The Choice is Yours Revisited,’ Dres was not only one of the funniest rappers of all-time, he was also one of the few capable of straddling the line between the underground and the mainstream. I like Rhymefest well enough, but let’s be real, Dres was everything he wishes he could be.
Download:
MP3: Black Sheep-”The Choice is Yours Revisited”
5. Bizzy Bone
Name any other rapper outside of Bizzy Bone (and the rest of Bone Thugs), who could’ve turned a song about welfare check into an anthem. If Bizzy had been born 20 years earlier, he’d probably have been a weird but brilliant soul singer. Instead, he took his light-speed alto chirp and emerged as the star of the one of the 90’s most popular and yet somehow critically unsung groups. His solo career might never have gotten off the ground, but “Money,” the Twista-featured lead single off A Song For You, his solo jaunt set to drop in October is better than anything off that last tepid Bone Thugs record and proves once again that nobody beats the Biz.
Download:
MP3:Bone Thugs-”First of Tha Month”
4. Sonny Cheeba of Camp Lo
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The hip-hop equivalent of Knicks legend, Walt “Clyde” Frazier, few rappers have ever sounded as slick and stylish as Sonny Cheeba. All tilted brims, fur coats, sly winks and swagger, Cheeba doesn’t attack beats, he saunters confidently across them, toying with Ski’s slinky 70s instrumentals like cats with yarn, kicking slanged-out fables about satin nights and diamond heists. Always too weird and anachronistic to fit into the mainstream, Cheeba was destined to be underrated from day one. But if you spend the time to unravel his cryptic code, Cheeba’s stories are as blindingly bright as the diamonds he raps about.
Download:
MP3: Camp Lo-”My Posse from the Bronx”
3. Edan
I’m just gonna’ come out and say it: if Edan was black, he would be widely considered him one of the best rappers working today. But Edan is not black. He is white. And not Eminem-white. We’re talking Jewish kid who went to the Berklee School of Music white. We’re talking like me and Edan have the same hair style white. Which is fine for bloggers but frowned upon for rappers. Consequently, you get asinine reviews like this one.
But don’t believe what you read. When I caught Edan last year at Spaceland, it was one of the most transcendent hip-hop performances I’ve ever seen. Usually when you go to a hip-hop show, it’s considered a miracle if the rappers play the best songs from the album and manage to leave their weed carriers at home. But Edan puts on a Show. Controlling the crowd, scratching turntables, freestyling and even playing the guitar and the kazoo, Edan’s live set bursts with a sense of unbridled creativity rarely seen in hip-hop. Though he’s only released two records total, 2005’s Beauty and the Beat, with its wildly original merging of psychedelia with golden-age boom-bap, established Edan as perhaps the most talented rapper to emerge from the underground in the last half-decade.
Download:
MP3: Edan-”Beauty”
2. Big Boi
It’s a little strange to include 1/2 of the most popular rap group of all-time on a list of the most underrated rappers of all-time But despite selling nearly 20 million records over the course of his career, everybody from the mainstream media to the your local neighborhood blog to your 87-year old grandmother, Esther, ignores Big Boi in favor of his more colorful, better dressed half.
No disrespect to Andre 3000, who’d probably make anyone’s Top 20 All-Time Rappers List, but the skill difference between the two is negligible. Disagree? Listen to The Love Below and then compare it to Big Boi’s far superior, Speakerboxx. Big Boi might not be flamboyant. He might not be flashy. But he remains a great rapper, one who might not be as readily marketable as Andre, but is no less responsible for Outkast’s success.
Download:
MP3: Big Boi-”War”
1. Masta Ace
I never thought much about Ace until earlier this year when Joey and I were compiling our Top 25 Best Hip-Hop albums list. In particular, I took note when one of my favorite bloggers, Travis of Wake Your Daughter Up named Slaughtahouse his all-time favorite and included Long Hot Summer and Disposable Arts in his top 30. Since Travis has forgotten more about hip-hop than I could ever know, I figured I needed to dig deeper into Ace’s discography.
I’d always liked Ace well enough, but hadn’t really gone much past his verse on “The Symphony” and his singles (”Born to Roll” in particular was the soundtrack to my 6th grade year, despite the fact that not only did I not even have a car, I didn’t even have a bike). But it wasn’t until I fully absorbed all of Ace’s records from Take a Look Around, his Marley Marl/Mista Cee-produced debut to his 2004’s brilliant, A Long Hot Summer, that I arrived at the conclusion that Ace might be the most underrated rapper of all-time.
Ace sort of reminds me of Rafael Palmeiro (minus the steroids and the Viagra.) He’s neither flashy nor outspoken, just a hard-working veteran who you don’t really notice until one day when you check their career stats and realize that he’s one of only four players to ever knock 500 home runs and 3,000 hits.
Every one of Ace’s five records are fully realized concepts, narrated with a cinematic eye to detail and a relatable everyman persona . In a rap world dominated by larger-than-life personalities, Ace was understandably overshadowed by other Juice Crew legends like Big Daddy Kane and Kool G Rap. But while Kane and G Rap’s skills and legacies are un-impeachable, I’d argue that in his 20 years on the mic, Ace has left behind a catalogue as impressive as any of his peers.
Download:
Masta Ace-“Born to Roll”
Posted in Are You From the Lester Bangs School of Thought?, Best Of | 17 Comments »
September 6th, 2007
As you may have noticed, I’ve finally made the switch from blogger to wordpress in an attempt to no longer look hackey and amateurish. Don’t worry though. Despite my new fancy digs, I promise you that the writing itself will remain as hackey and amateurish as always. Please update your bookmarks and blogrolls when you have a moment. I hope you all like the new design.
Thanks.
Posted in Miscellany | 4 Comments »
