Category Archives: hip-hop

Nicolay feat. Black Spade: “I Am the Man”

I’m on a bit of a singles kick of late, and, thanks to HBO, my wife has been a bit of a Singles kick. Big difference. Anyway, in Arizona, when the weather cools down and you can drive with windows down without scorching your skin, I want to listen to hip-hop. Cool breeze, heavy beats. It’s the best.

This track, by Dutch producer Nicolay, is exactly the kind of song I want, with its mesmerizing keyboard loop that rides lovely on that steady beat. It comes off his full-length debut, Here, which you can stream, um, here. His production feels textured and far from exclusionary, as Here jumps between hip-hop and R&B without being offensive to either.

Nicolay feat. Black Spade | I Am the Man (via World’s Fair)


Thanks to Gorilla vs. Bear for stalking RJD2’s MySpace page and letting us know that RJ is streaming his new single, You Never Had it So Good, from his forthcoming album, The Third Hand (due out March 6 on XL).

DJ Shadow “The Outsider” extras

I haven’t listened to DJ Shadow’s The Outsider enough to form any sort of opinion on it. It’s not that I don’t own it, because I do. It’s sitting here, kinda staring at me. If I’m honest with myself, I’d say some of the lukewarm reviews have me a little tentative to dig in. There seem to be two distinct camps of Shadow fans: those pining for another Endtroducing and those embracing his exploration of the Bay’s hyphy scene. I’m somewhere in the middle. For now.

Regardless, the ever-resourceful Sole Sides let us know recently that a few different versions of The Outsider exist, and there are some tracks that aren’t on every album. Not to worry, because they’ve provided three of ’em for download. I especially like Triplicate Part 3, a cut soaked in classic Shadow style, meandering in piano and horn loops. It’s easy to picture this track as part of a score to a motion picture.

DJ Shadow | Triplicate Part 3
DJ Shadow feat. The Team | Purple Grapes
DJ Shadow feat. The Heliocentrics | Skullfuckery

I Used to Love H.E.R.: The Gray Kid

The fifth installment of I Used to Love H.E.R., a series in which artists/bloggers/writers discuss their most essential hip-hop albums (read intro), is a thought-provoking and entertaining piece from The Gray Kid, who released what’s shaping up to be one of my favorite albums this year, … 5, 6, 7, 8. He dissects Black Moon’s bangin’ debut Enta Da Stage with his typical gusto and well of knowledge that goes deep beyond the surface.

[mp3] The Gray Kid | Lonely Love (see also, The Gray Kid’s PaxilBack spoof.)

Black Moon
Enta Da Stage (Nervous Records, 1993)

“Mount Up: Enta Da Stage = Enter the Posse”

“I bought my first cassette copy of Black Moon’s Enta Da Stage in 1993 on the strength of a song that wasn’t even on the album, the irreplaceable “I Got Cha Opin (Remix).” The song had exploded at radio following the first proper single from EDS, 1992’s “Who Got the Props?,” and had immediate appeal to a 13-year-old boy who was still hiding the bulk of his RapLove from his parents. I wore out the unmistakable horn sample from Barry White’s “Playing Your Game Baby.” The defenseless cardboard sleeve where Buckshot donned a bright yellow poncho and trademark Timz didn’t stand a chance either, its black ink ceding from soon-rounded corners. It only took a few complete listens, though, for Enta Da Stage to enter my Top 5 for good, hit remix or not.

“In an era that was made up of more rap groups than we’ll ever see again (*Star* culture can’t afford to spread the love like that), Black Moon was wedged in between A Tribe Called Quest and Onyx: a veritable rock – ATCQ was on top, releasing Midnight Marauders in ’93 to critical acclaim – and a hard place – Onyx was set to redefine what a fear-instilling rap squadron was supposed to look like. Good thing “Who Got the Props” was, without question, a party song at the same time as being the tune which established Buckshot as the hard-ass Brooklyn MC not to be fucked with. EDS, on the whole, was a violent record. It was unforgiving in its content, from the song titles (“Buck em Down,” “Niguz Talk Shit,” “Black Smif-n-Wessun”) to the Beatminerz filthy and often-mangled sonics (particularly on “Slave,” my favorite track). Yet, EDS succeeded largely because it was intensely groovy, comprised of clear and memorable samples (“How Many MCs…”) that let Buckshot shine for the lyric-obsessed just the same.

“What was so fresh and visceral about Black Moon, though, and what really had such a broad impact on the surging New York hip-hop scene, was their relentless posse nature. Remember, this is the group that ushered in the Boot Camp Click, the crew that, for my money, was the most accomplished in the ’90s, releasing multiple records from their sprawling team to consistent musical and cultural acclaim (“Lefleur Leflah Eshkoshka” was FUCKING WEIRD – these guys had their own ideas).

“The way the posse functioned for Black Moon, however, was even more psychologically disarming. Buckshot was not afraid to remind you of his physical stature (“yo who’s the shortie?”) with the same breath he used to remind you of the physical harm you’d subject yourself to if you crossed his path (“I’m bustin’ niguz with my six-shooter“). He was the littlest guy you didn’t want to fuck with the most. His occasional partner-in-rhyme was another 5-footer, and the rest of the squad at the time (Smif-N-Wessun and the young Mobb Deep) were hardly Ruck and Rock (who came a couple years later).

“In retrospect this seems anomalous, but upon re-listening to Enta Da Stage everything makes perfect sense. Of the album’s 14 cuts, 10 contain legit posse choruses made up of emphatic multi-dude overdubbing, one (“Powerful Impak”) contains a sample of 4 screaming Busta Rhymeses, one (“Shit iz Real”) contains loosely recorded chilling 10-deep in the studio, and the rest (the KRS-One sampled “How Many MCs” and the ahead-of-its-time for being psycho-maniacal “Slave”) are just plain fire. This shit is terrifying if you think about it in musical terms: the hooks as close to horror as you’d want them to come whilst remaining musical, engaging, and ultimately hip-hop. Mad dudes are yelling at you. The MC is threatening you 80 percent of the time. He knew he could truly spit with anybody, and he knew his click could throw down just as well. It was more like enta da stage, at your own risk.”

[mp3] Black Moon | Who Got Da Props?

Previously on I Used to Love H.E.R.:
Sarah Daly of Scanners (Run-DMC – Tougher Than Leather)
Pigeon John (De La Soul – De La Soul is Dead)
Joel Hatstat of Cinemechanica (Digital Underground – Sex Packets)
G. Love (Eric B. & Rakim – Paid In Full)
An introduction

Drunken Immortals: “Hot Concrete”

Given the sometimes-finicky attitude of fans toward local music in the Phoenix/Tempe area, it’s an accomplishment in itself that Drunken Immortals have hung around for almost 10 years. Well, they’ve done more than hung around, actually. They’ve thrived in a city that isn’t exactly at the top of anyone’s list when it comes to hotbeds of hip-hop.

And that longevity is a credit to the group’s proactive approach, rather than surviving by attrition. They helped create a label, Universatile Music, and helped form the Blowup Co-Op, a loose-knit collaboration of hip-hop musicians, artists, activists and such.

They just released their third LP, Hot Concrete, a title that pretty much says it all when it comes to the group’s loyalty to Arizona; if you’ve ever been to Arizona in August and tried to walk barefoot on the sidewalk, you know what that means. The album features guests Dres from Black Sheep and Abstract Rude of Project Blowed. With seven members and live instrumentation, Drunken Immortals are versatile enough to adapt and keep a step ahead of stagnant hip-hop machismo. Real Life, with Ab Rude, is DI in peak form: Latin-influenced guitars and percussion, turntables and emcees all mixed seamlessly into a fluid groove.

These guys were on the local circuit quite a bit when I was going to school at Arizona State, so it’s nice to see them keep stretching out but still reppin’ their hometown. That’s the 602 and the 480 (and sometimes the 623), for those not in the know.

Drunken Immortals | Hot Concrete
Drunken Immortals (feat. Abstract Rude) | Real Life

Black Sheep: “Whodat?”

When I heard A Tribe Called Quest was reuniting for a tour this fall, I had to temper my excitement with the harshness of reality. For one, it was a tour sponsored by a video game ($) and any Tribe fan can pretty much agree that the group’s farewell, The Love Movement, was spotty at best. Now, Tribe hovers at the top of my list of favorite groups … hence the problem: When should we just let go?

Because here comes another Native Tongues comeback with Black Sheep, the duo of Dres and Mista Lawnge, who last left us with 1994’s Non-Fiction. They’ll be best known for The Choice Is Yours (revisited version, of course), though that debut album in full, A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing, stands alongside any of those “golden era” albums – Low End Theory and 3 Feet High and Rising included.

And the way we (or, um, I) hold these albums in such high regard is going to make it difficult to believe that anything they do now will ever measure up. It’s sorta weird to even think that I’m discussing this: favorite artists of mine growing up are coming back around the block. But now I’m older and so are they. Maybe we’re more inclined to give these favorites a free pass the second time around. Or not.

It reminds me a little of when I cornered Diplo at the Pitchfork Music Festival this summer to ask him about his favorite hip-hop album (for a future installment of I Used to Love H.E.R.). His first answer was Black Sheep’s A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing. He went on to state all his reasons for liking the album as a teenager (which I can’t recall off hand). But then he said he listened to it recently and actually thought it was kind of mediocre. So what changes? Our age? Our taste? Our ability to detach our sentimental feelings once and for all?

I’m not saying I won’t listen to the forthcoming Black Sheep album, 8WM/Novakane. I enjoy the first single, Whodat?, a heavy hitter with thick horns produced by Seattle’s Vitamin D of Rhymesayers. But I’ll probably be lacking the same innocent enthusiasm I had back in the day, if only because I fear that if I don’t like it, it will somehow spoil my original memories – like watching an aging athlete. Who wants to remember Michael Jordan for his numerous comebacks or his ill-fated attempt at baseball? Maybe I’m too nostalgic. I really hope Black Sheep proves me wrong.

Black Sheep | Whodat?

CLEANING HOUSE: You may notice some sketchiness with EZarchive, every blogger’s favorite file-hosting solution. Apparently, they are upgrading and existing files will have to be moved over to the new and improved series of tubes where these types of things are held. It also means new Web links will be needed for files. So, I’m doing something I do sort of regularly: delete old mp3s. I’ll be keeping the mp3s on a few of the more popular posts active; throughout the week, I’ll re-introduce those posts if you missed them the first time around and don’t feel like digging through the archives. Hopefully I can do it without seeming like a self-aggrandizing jackass.

Just call me D-Nice

I’ll be coming with a proper recap of Cold War Kids/Foreign Born (great show) by tomorrow. Until then, I have to say how stoked I am to have discovered that this site is being linked now by the great D-Nice, former Boogie Down Productions DJ and now photographer extraordinaire.

I used to rock my cassette of D-Nice’s debut, Call Me D-Nice, non-stop back in, ooooh, the eighth grade. That is, until some chump stole it and my copy of Public Enemy’s It Takes a Nation of Millions … that I brought to one of those “parties” that eighth graders were prone to have. I’m gonna hunt that kid down.

D-Nice | Call Me D-Nice

Coincidentally, the great Soul Sides posted the video for this track yesterday.

Related: The Stop the Violence Movement: Self-Destruction.

I Used to Love H.E.R.: Sarah Daly of Scanners

I’m really excited about the fourth installment of I Used to Love H.E.R., a series in which artists/bloggers/writers discuss their most essential hip-hop albums (read intro). That’s because singer Sarah Daly of the London-based Scanners discusses in a quick Q&A an album that is one of my top three favorite hip-hop records. That only made me appreciate the group’s new LP Violence Is Golden (Dim Mak) all the more. Visit Scanners Web site or MySpace. Below is the mp3 for the single Lowlife.

MP3: Scanners | Lowlife

Run-DMC
Tougher Than Leather (Priority Records, 1988)
Note: Deluxe editions, with previously unreleased songs and expanded liner notes, of Run-DMC’s first four albums, including Tougher Than Leather, were released last year by Arista. More information.

What’s your favorite hip-hop album?
“Tougher Than Leather by Run-DMC.”

How did you discover it?
“In a bargin bin in a record store.”

Why would you consider it your favorite?
“I just love all the tracks on it. It’s quite eclectic musically and the lyrics have a sense of humour.”

Did that album open you up to any more hip-hop?
“Well, more Run-DMC.”

What type of role (if any) has hip-hop played in your own music?
“It’s so all pervasive. It’s everywhere. you can’t help but be influenced
somehow.”

Probably most people would consider Raising Hell as Run-DMC’s seminal album or the one they’d most associate with the group. What’s different or more appealing about Tougher Than Leather (which happens to be my favorite as well)?
“It’s true that Raising Hell has all the hits that I associate with Run-DMC. In fact until Walk This Way I hadn’t heard of either Run-DMC or Aerosmith. I don’t think Tougher Than Leather production sounds that different to Raising Hell. I just came across it by accident. I love it maybe for no other reason than it was in my Walkman on the way to school. And I have some nostalgic attachment to it as a whole.”

Hip-hop has obviously evolved quite a bit since 1988, when Tougher Than Leather came out. What do you think accounts for its longevity and staying power?
“Hip Hop is now so utterly the mainstream. You hear it in the shopping malls and fast food restaurants across the world. But you can easily trace the influence of Run-DMC to platinum artists such as Kanye West and OutKast. I think that any music style that finds its place rooted so deeply into society will have longevity.”

Lastly, favorite track on the album … and why?
“Well I love Ragtime. It’s catchy and we all sing along to it in the car.”

Run-DMC | Ragtime

Previously on I Used to Love H.E.R.:
Pigeon John (De La Soul – De La Soul is Dead)
Joel Hatstat of Cinemechanica (Digital Underground – Sex Packets)
G. Love (Eric B. & Rakim – Paid In Full)
An introduction

Mat Weddle covers OutKast’s “Hey Ya”

A story in Monday’s edition of The Arizona Republic featured local musician Mat Weddle (of local group Obadiah Parker; he’s on the left in the photo), who concocted an acoustic cover of OutKast’s Hey Ya. A performance of the song was videotaped at an open-mic night at a coffeehouse (*cringe*). It found its way to YouTube, and now it’s a smashing success, or so we’re told. Weddle told Spin.com, “It’s all been a big accident.”

This bothers me a little bit, though not as much as the Republic writer calling the original Hey Ya “little more than get-out-of-your-seat melodic fluff” (more on that in a sec). I don’t want to be too much of a naysayer here because Weddle’s version is pretty nice and the video – edited to mix the original video and Weddle’s performance – is clever and fun. (The original video apparently was slowed to 80 percent of normal speed to match Weddle’s tempo.) Hell, this is the first time I – and possibly a lot of other people – have heard of Obadiah Parker, which I’m guessing might be a small part of the motivation to do this cover. If we’ve learned anything from OK Go’s treadmill stunt, it’s that gimmicks bring publicity.

I’m mostly annoyed by the perpetuation of this trend of indie/folk rockers covering hip-hop songs, which, next to trucker hats, is just the pinnacle of irony. Off the top of my head, I can think of Ben Folds’ cover of Dr. Dre’s Bitches Ain’t Shit, Nina Gordon’s cover of N.W.A.’s Straight Outta Compton (mp3) and Dynamite Hack’s cover of Eazy-E’s Boyz-N-The-Hood.

I admit: That Ben Folds cover is pretty funny. But even my own reaction is part of the problem. Hip-hop songs that were conceptual and meant something in their original form are taken out of that context and reduced to parody because, hey, it’s funny to hear a square white dude say “bitch” or an adult-pop songstress sing “crazy motherfucker.”

Back to the Republic article, written by a guy I know who is in his mid-40s and white, which, sorry, has to be a little relevant to this conversation. He says of Weddle’s take on Hey Ya: ” … his graceful voice adding measure to a song that was little more than get-out-of-your-seat melodic fluff.” Just a tad patronizing to a song that was voted best single for 2003 by the Village Voice Pazz & Jop poll, no? You can’t tell me that Weddle’s voice is what unearths the greatness of Hey Ya. I’m really disturbed by the comments on the video at YouTube, including this one: “oh man!… such a better version of that song!!!” … or this one: “I love this! No offense to anyone but the original is crap compared to this” … or this one: “…You made Hey Ya bearable to listen.” … or this one: “Go white boy!”


I suppose this conversation could head in different directions: talk of appropriation by white artists (“Go white boy!”) or maybe a discussion of what makes a good cover. Regardless, this whole concept seems to mock the originals and maybe, by extension, hip-hop culture as a whole. Do these covers exist to promote the art of rap and hip-hop or to prey on the convenience of irony (and publicity)?Mat Weddle | Hey Ya (OutKast cover)

Video on YouTube.

UPDATE: I was sent another acoustic version of Hey Ya, this one by an artist from Iceland who goes by the name My Summer as a Salvation Soldier. I’m posting, if only to help prove my point that these covers are becoming a) unoriginal and b) tired.

My Summer as a Salvation Soldier | Hey Ya (OutKast cover)

¡Mayday! feat. Cee-Lo: “Groundhog Day”

Ah, the monotony of work. Sitting in a cubicle right now? This track, by Miami-based duo ¡Mayday!, is for you.

I couldn’t have found this track at a better time, as I’m about to embark on eight straight days of work until my next day off. It’s not that I dislike my actual job (newspaper copy editor); it’s that I dislike the routine – shower at the same time, drive the same route, deal with the same people, walk to the same sub shop for dinner. After awhile, you question the point of it all.

Clearly influenced by the genius of Office Space – ¡Mayday! even drops the phrase “TPS reports” in there – Groundhog Day asks: Just what the hell are we doing in these sterile offices anyway? Cee-Lo (of that one group you might have heard of) drops the verse:

“It’s just the same shit, different day /
We pretend to work /
While they pretend to pay”

I like to know that, even though Cee-Lo isn’t anywhere near a desk, someone is empathizing with us out there. “Mmmmmm, yeeeeeeah.”

¡Mayday! feat. Cee-Lo | Groundhog Day

Video: Groundhog Day

(If you were wondering: option+1 on a Mac for the upside down exclamation point.)

Backyard Bangers: “New Math”

For the past four years, the hottest hip-hop night in the Valley apparently has been at the Blunt Club (hosted by Hollywood Alley in Mesa). I say “apparently” because I’ve yet to drag my sorry butt down there. That’s gonna change soon (I swear), especially if they keep lining up great indie hip-hop artists; Jeru the Damaja, Crown City Rockers, Abstract Rude and Souls of Mischief are just a few of the guests to come through.

I’m really regretting missing last night’s set, which featured Troublemaker, one-half of the hip-hop/electronic production team (along with E. Moss) known as Backyard Bangers. The term “turntablism” – probably passe, anyway – doesn’t do justice to the duo’s debut LP, New Math (on their self-created Hollyrock label). Drum-heavy rhythms and skewed time signatures suggest DJ Shadow’s Endtroducing might have been an influence, and the carefully crafted samples surrounding them means someone spent lots of long hours splicing and dicing digital waveforms.

It probably sounds as if I’m contradicting myself, if you paid any attention to my review of the Ratatat live show. But in terms of instrumental composition, I’m always drawn to drums. Ratatat’s focus – both live and on record – seems scattered and unkempt. On an album like New Math, drums ground everything; the beats are the common denominator among all songs, the baseline. It never strays from the drums, and that’s enough to keep my attention.

And, oh yeah, Backyard Bangers have toured and recorded with DJ Z-Trip, always a plus in my book.

The guys keep a generous catalog of mp3s available for download, including remixes for the Flaming Lips, Beastie Boys and Super Furry Animals.

Backyard Bangers | Perception (from New Math)
Backyard Bangers | Fight Test remix (the Flaming Lips)

Buy New Math through Backyard Bangers’ MySpace page.