Image via Dez/Instagram
Gautham Nagesh is critic at large for POW.
From the mid- ‘90s until his death in 2006, J Dilla created a body of work that changed popular music forever. With just an MPC and deep crates, the Detroit producer rapper reimagined how artists approach rhythm – simultaneously combining the steady metronome of Western percussion with the syncopated, swing feel of jazz or funk. His beats evoke a woozy, off-kilter sensation, which seemed as initially perplexing as it has become revered.
This innovation and its influence are best documented by author Dan Charnas in his meticulous Dilla Time. The combination of straight time and swing time in beats crafted by Dilla for artists such as A Tribe Called Quest, Common and Pharcyde, sparked a widespread revolution in how producers approach percussion. As Charnas notes, in the decades since Dilla’s approach to rhythm has influenced everyone from D’Angelo (Voodoo) to Kendrick Lamar (To Pimp a Butterfly) to jazz pianist Robert Glasper.
At the time, as a teenager in Michigan, I knew none of this. I was vaguely aware of J Dilla, a rapper from Slum Village. I definitely owned many of the albums he produced, but this was before the era of Low End Theory in LA and the Beat Profile at Paramita Sound in Detroit, when the producer briefly replaced the MC atop hip-hop’s totem pole. Mostly what we knew was what we eventually came to understand as the Dilla vibe: something loose, with soul, that sounded more human than what was on the radio, and always made you bob your head to the beat.
Dilla died just days after the release of his second album Donuts in 2006 due to a rare blood disease and complications from Lupus. Yet his reputation has grown immeasurably since, with celebrations and studies of his work increasingly a staple of cultural institutions globally. Dozens of compilations and records have been released featuring some of the hundreds of unreleased tracks and beats he left behind.
Among the more intriguing records are snippets of Dilla’s experimentations with a Moog synthesizer and dance music, including Dillatronic, which are somewhat unexpected despite Detroit’s status as the birthplace of techno. The Broad Museum is hosting a celebration of his influence on House music on July 19th as part of the ongoing Dilla Fest series this summer. Tickets are available here.
Dilla spent the last few years of his life in Los Angeles, living with Common and collaborating with producer Madlib. Detroit luminaries including Moodymann, Dez Andrés, Dames Brown and Mark de Clive-Lowe will take part in an ensemble performance highlighting Dilla’s legacy. The night will also feature local talents DJ Ashley Younniä and DJ Rashida and be hosted by The Yancey Boys AKA Illa J + Frank Nitt. The guests were co-curated by Mahogani Music and Fusicology.
Andrés – real name Humberto Hernandez – is a 48-year old Detroit native who spent the 80s in Southern California. He moved back to Detroit in 1989 and met Dilla in ‘92 at the home of the late great Amp Fiddler, keyboardist for Parliament-Funkadelic among other acts. The son of renowned percussionist Nengue Hernandez, Dez later served as DJ for Dilla’s rap group Slum Village at Dilla’s request. A staple in Detroit, Dez is a veteran of both the hip-hop and house music scenes, having learned to use the MPC from Amp Fiddler himself.
His hip-hop album A Piece of the Action with DJ Butter still lingers in CD changers across Southeast Michigan, and his Andres House records on Mahogani Music are grails for vinyl collectors from Oakland to Berlin. So Dez was uniquely qualified to answer a few questions via phone: (Full Disclosure: Dez played my wedding in May. Questions and answers have been edited for length and clarity.)
What was Dilla like in person?
Dez: Quiet. He was quiet. The guy who introduced me, he took me to Amp [Fiddler]’s house and we ended up being a rap group together. He was in the same crew as Dilla and Slum Village, called Ghost Town at the time. We became a short-lived group. We were in their crew, and that’s how I met Amp [and Dilla].
We recorded at Amp’s house. After our group disbanded, I continued going over there because I didn’t have any equipment. So, I’d go over there and work on the MPC. Amp would just let us mess with his equipment, once he saw we were serious. I’d take records over there, but he had his own records. Really good stuff. Jazz records.
What made Dilla such a great producer?
Dez: As a drummer and percussionist, I think his pocket was kind of unmatched. He had such a special pocket and as soon as you heard it, you immediately knew that this guy is doing something awesome with this machine. You could hear it. His pocket was crazy. He had a bounce like no one else. Probably the most imitated sounds out here next to Dr. Dre or Timbaland. People who have a single sound or single pocket at times it’s undeniable.
He wasn’t a one trick pony at all. I think he made a lot of producers step up their musicianship. I don’t think anyone else did that. From a standpoint on the drum machine…JD was the guy who made everybody step up on the drum machine. I know Dilla changed the bounce in people’s beats. He made a lot of people quantize less in their music. Because his feels so raw.
I’m highly influenced by those things. I always say we go through such a technical process to create a non-technical thing. We don’t want it to sound technical, we want it to sound like somebody is playing. That’s the natural feeling. Don’t want it to sound too on or too off. What feels more natural. Whatever that may be, to some it might be more exaggerated or a little more behind. I think that changed from what Dilla brought to the table. He made everybody rethink or regroup, and say let me tighten up on this element.
How did the rap scene and the dance music scenes intersect in Detroit in the 90s?
Dez: Dilla would go to some hip-hop stuff, but he would also be at the strip club a lot. The music influences were there. I was part of a group called Blood Garden, we were supposed to put out something of his. We put out one record, it was ghettotech, booty shake-type stuff.
A lot of people dabbled in both (dance music and hip-hop) at that time. In the late 80s, those dance beats were really poppin’. The Miami sound as well as here in Detroit. Detroit had its own history with dance music, techno and house. It wasn’t that different, except for now it’s a little more labeled and separate. Back then everybody was kinda together, the vibe was more universal.
You joined Slum Village as a DJ, touring and scratching on records on the Okayplayer tour when Fantastic, Vol. 2 came out. There were still not many Detroit hip-hop artists who were nationally known apart from Eminem and D12. What was the scene like back then?
Dez: Dopadelic. Crews like Last Ones Out. 31 Flavors. DJ crews like 12 Tech Mob, DJ Tony Tones, Slim Fast, the guys spinning with Maurice Malone. Phat Kat.
As far as my generation, we still had cats who started in the late 80s. You had the bigger names like Awesome Dres, Detroit’s Most Wanted, Chaos the Maestro. Then in my era there was Proof, and Maurice Malone with the Hip-Hop Shop. As we know with D12 and Slum Village, history was made and the snowball started.
I’m proud to say my generation made it known without a doubt that Detroit does hip-hop. It was never clear and stamped before, but after my generation there was no doubt.
Due to the politics and different reasons for a number of years, Detroit has been overlooked. Some people have the desire to keep pushing. Some of them, people have been overlooked for so long, they get tired. Some people still got gas in the tank.
Dilla himself famously felt overlooked during his lifetime despite his influence. What was the impact of his sickness and passing on Detroit’s hip-hop community?
Dez: The community of course felt it. The city, eh. They didn’t acknowledge it.
That feels strange, given how prominent his name is today on events like Dilla Day.
Dez: Once again that is something that came from the community as well. The city overall wasn’t really playing his music. I don’t think they celebrate him like that. Aside from the community that he comes from.
Why?
Dez: I think the city has always celebrated the more top 40. The bigger [stuff]. Pop music. Slum Village and J Dilla was always considered underground. None of our underground guys are really celebrated. Respect to guys who do big numbers, Tee Grizzley and Big Sean, but overall, that’s what’s been recognized, period. D12’s album went platinum. But there’s a slew of underground heroes like Phat Kat [who don’t get the recognition].
When do you think things changed with respect to Dilla?
Dez: That’s something that has happened since he passed away. Almost like Marvin Gaye. Not to be funny, but people weren’t bigging up J Dilla like that when he was alive, when he was still a threat. They weren’t. I have always championed him. When I met him, he was an alien. When I heard his stuff for the first time, I knew I was listening to something special.
What do you mean he was an alien?
Dez: He was out of this world. He was from another place. Musically, he sounded so completely different.
We recorded at Amp’s house. After our group disbanded, I continued going over there because I didn’t have any equipment. So, I’d go over there and work on the MPC. Amp would just let us mess with his equipment, once he saw we were serious. I’d take records over there, but he had his own records. Really good stuff. Jazz records.
What made Dilla such a great producer?
Dez: As a drummer and percussionist, I think his pocket was kind of unmatched. He had such a special pocket and as soon as you heard it, you immediately knew that this guy is doing something awesome with this machine. You could hear it. His pocket was crazy. He had a bounce like no one else. Probably the most imitated sounds out here next to Dr. Dre or Timbaland. People who have a single sound or single pocket at times it’s undeniable.
He wasn’t a one trick pony at all. I think he made a lot of producers step up their musicianship. I don’t think anyone else did that. From a standpoint on the drum machine…JD was the guy who made everybody step up on the drum machine. I know Dilla changed the bounce in people’s beats. He made a lot of people quantize less in their music. Because his feels so raw.
I’m highly influenced by those things. I always say we go through such a technical process to create a non-technical thing. We don’t want it to sound technical, we want it to sound like somebody is playing. That’s the natural feeling. Don’t want it to sound too on or too off. What feels more natural. Whatever that may be, to some it might be more exaggerated or a little more behind. I think that changed from what Dilla brought to the table. He made everybody rethink or regroup, and say let me tighten up on this element.
How did the rap scene and the dance music scenes intersect in Detroit in the 90s?
Dez: Dilla would go to some hip-hop stuff, but he would also be at the strip club a lot. The music influences were there. I was part of a group called Blood Garden, we were supposed to put out something of his. We put out one record, it was ghettotech, booty shake-type stuff.
A lot of people dabbled in both (dance music and hip-hop) at that time. In the late 80s, those dance beats were really poppin’. The Miami sound as well as here in Detroit. Detroit had its own history with dance music, techno and house. It wasn’t that different, except for now it’s a little more labeled and separate. Back then everybody was kinda together, the vibe was more universal.
You joined Slum Village as a DJ, touring and scratching on records on the Okayplayer tour when Fantastic, Vol. 2 came out. There were still not many Detroit hip-hop artists who were nationally known apart from Eminem and D12. What was the scene like back then?
Dez: Dopadelic. Crews like Last Ones Out. 31 Flavors. DJ crews like 12 Tech Mob, DJ Tony Tones, Slim Fast, the guys spinning with Maurice Malone. Phat Kat.
As far as my generation, we still had cats who started in the late 80s. You had the bigger names like Awesome Dres, Detroit’s Most Wanted, Chaos the Maestro. Then in my era there was Proof, and Maurice Malone with the Hip-Hop Shop. As we know with D12 and Slum Village, history was made and the snowball started.
I’m proud to say my generation made it known without a doubt that Detroit does hip-hop. It was never clear and stamped before, but after my generation there was no doubt.
Due to the politics and different reasons for a number of years, Detroit has been overlooked. Some people have the desire to keep pushing. Some of them, people have been overlooked for so long, they get tired. Some people still got gas in the tank.
Dilla himself famously felt overlooked during his lifetime despite his influence. What was the impact of his sickness and passing on Detroit’s hip-hop community?
Dez: The community of course felt it. The city, eh. They didn’t acknowledge it.
That feels strange, given how prominent his name is today on events like Dilla Day.
Dez: Once again that is something that came from the community as well. The city overall wasn’t really playing his music. I don’t think they celebrate him like that. Aside from the community that he comes from.
Why?
Dez: I think the city has always celebrated the more top 40. The bigger [stuff]. Pop music. Slum Village and J Dilla was always considered underground. None of our underground guys are really celebrated. Respect to guys who do big numbers, Tee Grizzley and Big Sean, but overall, that’s what’s been recognized, period. D12’s album went platinum. But there’s a slew of underground heroes like Phat Kat [who don’t get the recognition].
When do you think things changed with respect to Dilla?
Dez: That’s something that has happened since he passed away. Almost like Marvin Gaye. Not to be funny, but people weren’t bigging up J Dilla like that when he was alive, when he was still a threat. They weren’t. I have always championed him. When I met him, he was an alien. When I heard his stuff for the first time, I knew I was listening to something special.
What do you mean he was an alien?
Dez: He was out of this world. He was from another place. Musically, he sounded so completely different.
He wasn’t a one trick pony at all. I think he made a lot of producers step up their musicianship. I don’t think anyone else did that. From a standpoint on the drum machine…JD was the guy who made everybody step up on the drum machine. I know Dilla changed the bounce in people’s beats. He made a lot of people quantize less in their music. Because his feels so raw.
I’m highly influenced by those things. I always say we go through such a technical process to create a non-technical thing. We don’t want it to sound technical, we want it to sound like somebody is playing. That’s the natural feeling. Don’t want it to sound too on or too off. What feels more natural. Whatever that may be, to some it might be more exaggerated or a little more behind. I think that changed from what Dilla brought to the table. He made everybody rethink or regroup, and say let me tighten up on this element.
How did the rap scene and the dance music scenes intersect in Detroit in the 90s?
Dez: Dilla would go to some hip-hop stuff, but he would also be at the strip club a lot. The music influences were there. I was part of a group called Blood Garden, we were supposed to put out something of his. We put out one record, it was ghettotech, booty shake-type stuff.
A lot of people dabbled in both (dance music and hip-hop) at that time. In the late 80s, those dance beats were really poppin’. The Miami sound as well as here in Detroit. Detroit had its own history with dance music, techno and house. It wasn’t that different, except for now it’s a little more labeled and separate. Back then everybody was kinda together, the vibe was more universal.
You joined Slum Village as a DJ, touring and scratching on records on the Okayplayer tour when Fantastic, Vol. 2 came out. There were still not many Detroit hip-hop artists who were nationally known apart from Eminem and D12. What was the scene like back then?
Dez: Dopadelic. Crews like Last Ones Out. 31 Flavors. DJ crews like 12 Tech Mob, DJ Tony Tones, Slim Fast, the guys spinning with Maurice Malone. Phat Kat.
As far as my generation, we still had cats who started in the late 80s. You had the bigger names like Awesome Dres, Detroit’s Most Wanted, Chaos the Maestro. Then in my era there was Proof, and Maurice Malone with the Hip-Hop Shop. As we know with D12 and Slum Village, history was made and the snowball started.
I’m proud to say my generation made it known without a doubt that Detroit does hip-hop. It was never clear and stamped before, but after my generation there was no doubt.
Due to the politics and different reasons for a number of years, Detroit has been overlooked. Some people have the desire to keep pushing. Some of them, people have been overlooked for so long, they get tired. Some people still got gas in the tank.
Dilla himself famously felt overlooked during his lifetime despite his influence. What was the impact of his sickness and passing on Detroit’s hip-hop community?
Dez: The community of course felt it. The city, eh. They didn’t acknowledge it.
That feels strange, given how prominent his name is today on events like Dilla Day.
Dez: Once again that is something that came from the community as well. The city overall wasn’t really playing his music. I don’t think they celebrate him like that. Aside from the community that he comes from.
Why?
Dez: I think the city has always celebrated the more top 40. The bigger [stuff]. Pop music. Slum Village and J Dilla was always considered underground. None of our underground guys are really celebrated. Respect to guys who do big numbers, Tee Grizzley and Big Sean, but overall, that’s what’s been recognized, period. D12’s album went platinum. But there’s a slew of underground heroes like Phat Kat [who don’t get the recognition].
When do you think things changed with respect to Dilla?
Dez: That’s something that has happened since he passed away. Almost like Marvin Gaye. Not to be funny, but people weren’t bigging up J Dilla like that when he was alive, when he was still a threat. They weren’t. I have always championed him. When I met him, he was an alien. When I heard his stuff for the first time, I knew I was listening to something special.
What do you mean he was an alien?
Dez: He was out of this world. He was from another place. Musically, he sounded so completely different.
A lot of people dabbled in both (dance music and hip-hop) at that time. In the late 80s, those dance beats were really poppin’. The Miami sound as well as here in Detroit. Detroit had its own history with dance music, techno and house. It wasn’t that different, except for now it’s a little more labeled and separate. Back then everybody was kinda together, the vibe was more universal.
You joined Slum Village as a DJ, touring and scratching on records on the Okayplayer tour when Fantastic, Vol. 2 came out. There were still not many Detroit hip-hop artists who were nationally known apart from Eminem and D12. What was the scene like back then?
Dez: Dopadelic. Crews like Last Ones Out. 31 Flavors. DJ crews like 12 Tech Mob, DJ Tony Tones, Slim Fast, the guys spinning with Maurice Malone. Phat Kat.
As far as my generation, we still had cats who started in the late 80s. You had the bigger names like Awesome Dres, Detroit’s Most Wanted, Chaos the Maestro. Then in my era there was Proof, and Maurice Malone with the Hip-Hop Shop. As we know with D12 and Slum Village, history was made and the snowball started.
I’m proud to say my generation made it known without a doubt that Detroit does hip-hop. It was never clear and stamped before, but after my generation there was no doubt.
Due to the politics and different reasons for a number of years, Detroit has been overlooked. Some people have the desire to keep pushing. Some of them, people have been overlooked for so long, they get tired. Some people still got gas in the tank.
Dilla himself famously felt overlooked during his lifetime despite his influence. What was the impact of his sickness and passing on Detroit’s hip-hop community?
Dez: The community of course felt it. The city, eh. They didn’t acknowledge it.
That feels strange, given how prominent his name is today on events like Dilla Day.
Dez: Once again that is something that came from the community as well. The city overall wasn’t really playing his music. I don’t think they celebrate him like that. Aside from the community that he comes from.
Why?
Dez: I think the city has always celebrated the more top 40. The bigger [stuff]. Pop music. Slum Village and J Dilla was always considered underground. None of our underground guys are really celebrated. Respect to guys who do big numbers, Tee Grizzley and Big Sean, but overall, that’s what’s been recognized, period. D12’s album went platinum. But there’s a slew of underground heroes like Phat Kat [who don’t get the recognition].
When do you think things changed with respect to Dilla?
Dez: That’s something that has happened since he passed away. Almost like Marvin Gaye. Not to be funny, but people weren’t bigging up J Dilla like that when he was alive, when he was still a threat. They weren’t. I have always championed him. When I met him, he was an alien. When I heard his stuff for the first time, I knew I was listening to something special.
What do you mean he was an alien?
Dez: He was out of this world. He was from another place. Musically, he sounded so completely different.
As far as my generation, we still had cats who started in the late 80s. You had the bigger names like Awesome Dres, Detroit’s Most Wanted, Chaos the Maestro. Then in my era there was Proof, and Maurice Malone with the Hip-Hop Shop. As we know with D12 and Slum Village, history was made and the snowball started.
I’m proud to say my generation made it known without a doubt that Detroit does hip-hop. It was never clear and stamped before, but after my generation there was no doubt.
Due to the politics and different reasons for a number of years, Detroit has been overlooked. Some people have the desire to keep pushing. Some of them, people have been overlooked for so long, they get tired. Some people still got gas in the tank.
Dilla himself famously felt overlooked during his lifetime despite his influence. What was the impact of his sickness and passing on Detroit’s hip-hop community?
Dez: The community of course felt it. The city, eh. They didn’t acknowledge it.
That feels strange, given how prominent his name is today on events like Dilla Day.
Dez: Once again that is something that came from the community as well. The city overall wasn’t really playing his music. I don’t think they celebrate him like that. Aside from the community that he comes from.
Why?
Dez: I think the city has always celebrated the more top 40. The bigger [stuff]. Pop music. Slum Village and J Dilla was always considered underground. None of our underground guys are really celebrated. Respect to guys who do big numbers, Tee Grizzley and Big Sean, but overall, that’s what’s been recognized, period. D12’s album went platinum. But there’s a slew of underground heroes like Phat Kat [who don’t get the recognition].
When do you think things changed with respect to Dilla?
Dez: That’s something that has happened since he passed away. Almost like Marvin Gaye. Not to be funny, but people weren’t bigging up J Dilla like that when he was alive, when he was still a threat. They weren’t. I have always championed him. When I met him, he was an alien. When I heard his stuff for the first time, I knew I was listening to something special.
What do you mean he was an alien?
Dez: He was out of this world. He was from another place. Musically, he sounded so completely different.
That feels strange, given how prominent his name is today on events like Dilla Day.
Dez: Once again that is something that came from the community as well. The city overall wasn’t really playing his music. I don’t think they celebrate him like that. Aside from the community that he comes from.
Why?
Dez: I think the city has always celebrated the more top 40. The bigger [stuff]. Pop music. Slum Village and J Dilla was always considered underground. None of our underground guys are really celebrated. Respect to guys who do big numbers, Tee Grizzley and Big Sean, but overall, that’s what’s been recognized, period. D12’s album went platinum. But there’s a slew of underground heroes like Phat Kat [who don’t get the recognition].
When do you think things changed with respect to Dilla?
Dez: That’s something that has happened since he passed away. Almost like Marvin Gaye. Not to be funny, but people weren’t bigging up J Dilla like that when he was alive, when he was still a threat. They weren’t. I have always championed him. When I met him, he was an alien. When I heard his stuff for the first time, I knew I was listening to something special.
What do you mean he was an alien?
Dez: He was out of this world. He was from another place. Musically, he sounded so completely different.
Why?
Dez: I think the city has always celebrated the more top 40. The bigger [stuff]. Pop music. Slum Village and J Dilla was always considered underground. None of our underground guys are really celebrated. Respect to guys who do big numbers, Tee Grizzley and Big Sean, but overall, that’s what’s been recognized, period. D12’s album went platinum. But there’s a slew of underground heroes like Phat Kat [who don’t get the recognition].
When do you think things changed with respect to Dilla?
Dez: That’s something that has happened since he passed away. Almost like Marvin Gaye. Not to be funny, but people weren’t bigging up J Dilla like that when he was alive, when he was still a threat. They weren’t. I have always championed him. When I met him, he was an alien. When I heard his stuff for the first time, I knew I was listening to something special.
What do you mean he was an alien?
Dez: He was out of this world. He was from another place. Musically, he sounded so completely different.
When do you think things changed with respect to Dilla?
Dez: That’s something that has happened since he passed away. Almost like Marvin Gaye. Not to be funny, but people weren’t bigging up J Dilla like that when he was alive, when he was still a threat. They weren’t. I have always championed him. When I met him, he was an alien. When I heard his stuff for the first time, I knew I was listening to something special.
What do you mean he was an alien?
Dez: He was out of this world. He was from another place. Musically, he sounded so completely different.
What do you mean he was an alien?
Dez: He was out of this world. He was from another place. Musically, he sounded so completely different.