Slumberlord
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
Tech day!
First and foremost, Kempa with an amazing analysis of high-tech and low-tech vinyl playing devices, gadgets and… a guy who can identify classical music by looking at the grooves on LPs. The Japanese ELP Corporation (no apparent relation to the rapper of the same name) sells a $14,000+ no-contact turntable that can play a record literally broken into pieces and lain in a tray similar to what you see on a CD player. You can listen to a demo as well. Another Japanese device allows you to make your own analog recordings on anything from a blank CD-R to a ramen noodle package lid.
Care of Music Non-Stop, an iPod-fueled art installation with iPods playing a cross-genre selection of classic Detroit music, from Chairmen of the Board to DJ Assault. It’s interesting how Detroit has such an abundance of R&B, soul, house and techno but a relatively modest selection of hip-hop and rock (despite producing two of the most popular recent acts in the respective fields).
Via Hip-Hop Blogs, more iPod madness: a story on how to use an iPod in conjunction with several other devices to take control of other people’s FM radios within about 30 feet. I might have to finally buy one of those things so I can hunt XRT listeners on the train and bump Wilco and Norah Jones songs with jams from the new Cam'ron album.
First and foremost, Kempa with an amazing analysis of high-tech and low-tech vinyl playing devices, gadgets and… a guy who can identify classical music by looking at the grooves on LPs. The Japanese ELP Corporation (no apparent relation to the rapper of the same name) sells a $14,000+ no-contact turntable that can play a record literally broken into pieces and lain in a tray similar to what you see on a CD player. You can listen to a demo as well. Another Japanese device allows you to make your own analog recordings on anything from a blank CD-R to a ramen noodle package lid.
Care of Music Non-Stop, an iPod-fueled art installation with iPods playing a cross-genre selection of classic Detroit music, from Chairmen of the Board to DJ Assault. It’s interesting how Detroit has such an abundance of R&B, soul, house and techno but a relatively modest selection of hip-hop and rock (despite producing two of the most popular recent acts in the respective fields).
Via Hip-Hop Blogs, more iPod madness: a story on how to use an iPod in conjunction with several other devices to take control of other people’s FM radios within about 30 feet. I might have to finally buy one of those things so I can hunt XRT listeners on the train and bump Wilco and Norah Jones songs with jams from the new Cam'ron album.
Friday, June 11, 2004
“I’m from the Corpus Christi, ho!”
Three 6 Mafia, DJ Kay Slay, Lil’ Whyte, Frayser Boy – “Who Gives a Fuck Where You From?”
The most annoying refrain of the year can’t quite drown out that wonderfully creaky, watery synth warble. Lyrically, representing for your hood is a big part of commercial hip-hop, so it’s a little shocking to hear someone suggest no one is impressed that you’re repping so hard for the burgeoning rap scene in Gary, Indiana.
The verses are decent – “When it comes to beef boy, we Burger Kings” – but the important thing here is the sensible lesson in the chorus: if a guy can’t rap and has no flow, he probably shouldn’t throw it up for Oklahoma City.
Freaky Trigger reveals The Streets' plan for world domination: drop “Dry Your Eyes” as a single after England loses in the Euro 2004 tournament (which I assume is some sort of soccer competition).
There’s no national equivalent for American sports, since everything is regional, and most American sports anthems are imported from England (“We Are the Champions,” “Tubthumping,” etc.). The musical selections at the last baseball game I attended were typical with the exception of the wildly out of place Timo Maas remix of “Dooms Night.” I was disappointed that the visiting Fargo-Moorhead RedHawks resisted the urge to drop the ball and rave and instead sealed the inning with a double play.
But anyone who has watched even a few minutes of the NBA finals knows what the anthem is this year – the Black Eyed Peas chanting “Let’s get it started in here” over and over. And although they are an American group, their success is primarily English, so its almost as if they’ve been re-imported. I’m not a fan but my protests are reduced to a thin stream of lusty drool whenever Fergie gyrates across the screen.
Is there something distinctly British about sports anthems?
And of course there’s that wonderful bit about KRS-ONE trying to convince Nas to speak to NASA. It’s been on every hip-hop blog already, and here it is again, because it is awesome.
Then he picks up the phone and talks with me discussing NASA and the universe and hip hop’s role on Mars. When I asked him, “Nas I want you to speak at NASA,” he hung up the phone on me. He couldn’t take it. He called me back an hour later saying, “Yo, man. I’m sorry man. Yo, man. Yo, you just too much man. I had to take a breather.” I said, “Stop being afraid. It’s just a building. You go and you talk and you leave.” But he wants the training. He’s interested in the training and he’s not afraid. It’s just I’m a crazy guy.
Three 6 Mafia, DJ Kay Slay, Lil’ Whyte, Frayser Boy – “Who Gives a Fuck Where You From?”
The most annoying refrain of the year can’t quite drown out that wonderfully creaky, watery synth warble. Lyrically, representing for your hood is a big part of commercial hip-hop, so it’s a little shocking to hear someone suggest no one is impressed that you’re repping so hard for the burgeoning rap scene in Gary, Indiana.
The verses are decent – “When it comes to beef boy, we Burger Kings” – but the important thing here is the sensible lesson in the chorus: if a guy can’t rap and has no flow, he probably shouldn’t throw it up for Oklahoma City.
Freaky Trigger reveals The Streets' plan for world domination: drop “Dry Your Eyes” as a single after England loses in the Euro 2004 tournament (which I assume is some sort of soccer competition).
There’s no national equivalent for American sports, since everything is regional, and most American sports anthems are imported from England (“We Are the Champions,” “Tubthumping,” etc.). The musical selections at the last baseball game I attended were typical with the exception of the wildly out of place Timo Maas remix of “Dooms Night.” I was disappointed that the visiting Fargo-Moorhead RedHawks resisted the urge to drop the ball and rave and instead sealed the inning with a double play.
But anyone who has watched even a few minutes of the NBA finals knows what the anthem is this year – the Black Eyed Peas chanting “Let’s get it started in here” over and over. And although they are an American group, their success is primarily English, so its almost as if they’ve been re-imported. I’m not a fan but my protests are reduced to a thin stream of lusty drool whenever Fergie gyrates across the screen.
Is there something distinctly British about sports anthems?
And of course there’s that wonderful bit about KRS-ONE trying to convince Nas to speak to NASA. It’s been on every hip-hop blog already, and here it is again, because it is awesome.
Then he picks up the phone and talks with me discussing NASA and the universe and hip hop’s role on Mars. When I asked him, “Nas I want you to speak at NASA,” he hung up the phone on me. He couldn’t take it. He called me back an hour later saying, “Yo, man. I’m sorry man. Yo, man. Yo, you just too much man. I had to take a breather.” I said, “Stop being afraid. It’s just a building. You go and you talk and you leave.” But he wants the training. He’s interested in the training and he’s not afraid. It’s just I’m a crazy guy.
Sunday, June 06, 2004
“Fuck riding the beat nigga, I parallel park on the track”
Douglas Wolk at lacunae clues readers in to an MP3-posted indie-pop compilation from 1992 on Waaaaah!. I’ve never heard of any of these groups except for White Town and the immortally fey Field Mice, who contribute an 11-minute post-twee droner with “Other Galaxies”.
Bloggers take sides in the ongoing “no homo” debate. To whit, Matt at 1115, Oliver Wang at Pop Life, Clyde at Hip-Hop Logic, Bol at Byron Crawford, Matt #2 and Oliver #2.
For those not versed in rap-slang-turned-hipster-chatter, “no homo” is a term invented by rapper Cam’ron. Whenever he says something that could be interpreted as implying he is gay – or even references other men in the broadest manner – he tags it with the “no homo” disclaimer.
I think Wang’s points are pretty well-argued but I can’t really agree with him when he says “it's tired and asinine and only feeds into a cultural hostility towards queers.” Well, it is tired, and probably asinine, but I’m not convinced it is hostile. The whole idea of “no homo” seems so preposterous that it’s a mistake to take it seriously. Cam's construction of a ridiculously complex self-referential terminology around something like this couldn’t really be interpreted as homophobic unless there was at least an element of sincerity to it (this is the man who covers Cyndi Lauper and is working with scientists to invent a new shade of pink**).
To even say “no homo” is to suggest there was a possibility that you were gay – something a homophobe would never do. Could it be Killa Cam is even trying to deflate the pompousness of homophobia with such an irreverent disclaimer? I won’t go that far (I’m sure he just thinks “no homo” sounds funny) but it’s a nice thought.
Real homophobia - the kind bloggers should be worried about - masks itself much more effectively than this.
Broken Language says Jadakiss’ “The Champ Is Here” mixtape is the best album of the year and tells haters not to dismiss it as “rap” as opposed to “hip-hop.” Apparently some might shunt commercial/major label types like Jadakiss off on the rap side in deference to “real” hip-hop like Brother Ali and Outkast. While the argument sounds familiar enough I haven’t heard it framed as a rap vs. hip-hop issue in the past. But maybe I’m reading the wrong blogs.
The single of the same name is excellent, though – apparently the sampled titular chant is Will Smith as Ali – I knew Big Willie would find a way to make it into a good rap song.***
*At least within the blogosphere – it has yet to really settle in pop culture writ large, which would be dreadful. I hadn’t even thought of Matt 1115’s very apt comparison to the Seinfield phrase “not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
**Link via Catchdubs, Cocaine Blunts, and 1115.
***More importantly – a best-of pick that probably won’t show up on p2ps but only costs $7? Sounds like a solution to ye olde file sharing dilemma.
Douglas Wolk at lacunae clues readers in to an MP3-posted indie-pop compilation from 1992 on Waaaaah!. I’ve never heard of any of these groups except for White Town and the immortally fey Field Mice, who contribute an 11-minute post-twee droner with “Other Galaxies”.
Bloggers take sides in the ongoing “no homo” debate. To whit, Matt at 1115, Oliver Wang at Pop Life, Clyde at Hip-Hop Logic, Bol at Byron Crawford, Matt #2 and Oliver #2.
For those not versed in rap-slang-turned-hipster-chatter, “no homo” is a term invented by rapper Cam’ron. Whenever he says something that could be interpreted as implying he is gay – or even references other men in the broadest manner – he tags it with the “no homo” disclaimer.
I think Wang’s points are pretty well-argued but I can’t really agree with him when he says “it's tired and asinine and only feeds into a cultural hostility towards queers.” Well, it is tired, and probably asinine, but I’m not convinced it is hostile. The whole idea of “no homo” seems so preposterous that it’s a mistake to take it seriously. Cam's construction of a ridiculously complex self-referential terminology around something like this couldn’t really be interpreted as homophobic unless there was at least an element of sincerity to it (this is the man who covers Cyndi Lauper and is working with scientists to invent a new shade of pink**).
To even say “no homo” is to suggest there was a possibility that you were gay – something a homophobe would never do. Could it be Killa Cam is even trying to deflate the pompousness of homophobia with such an irreverent disclaimer? I won’t go that far (I’m sure he just thinks “no homo” sounds funny) but it’s a nice thought.
Real homophobia - the kind bloggers should be worried about - masks itself much more effectively than this.
Broken Language says Jadakiss’ “The Champ Is Here” mixtape is the best album of the year and tells haters not to dismiss it as “rap” as opposed to “hip-hop.” Apparently some might shunt commercial/major label types like Jadakiss off on the rap side in deference to “real” hip-hop like Brother Ali and Outkast. While the argument sounds familiar enough I haven’t heard it framed as a rap vs. hip-hop issue in the past. But maybe I’m reading the wrong blogs.
The single of the same name is excellent, though – apparently the sampled titular chant is Will Smith as Ali – I knew Big Willie would find a way to make it into a good rap song.***
*At least within the blogosphere – it has yet to really settle in pop culture writ large, which would be dreadful. I hadn’t even thought of Matt 1115’s very apt comparison to the Seinfield phrase “not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
**Link via Catchdubs, Cocaine Blunts, and 1115.
***More importantly – a best-of pick that probably won’t show up on p2ps but only costs $7? Sounds like a solution to ye olde file sharing dilemma.
Thursday, June 03, 2004
3 A.M. Eternal
...all music can only be the sum or part total of what has gone before. Every number one song ever written is only made up from bits from other songs. There is no lost chord. No changes untried. No extra notes to the scale or hidden beats to the bar. There is no point in searching for originality. In the past, most writers of songs spent months in their lonely rooms strumming their guitars or bands in rehearsals have ground their way through endless riffs before arriving at the song that takes them to the very top. Of course, most of them would be mortally upset to be told that all they were doing was leaving it to chance before they stumbled across the tried and tested. They have to believe it is through this sojourn they arrive at the grail; the great and original song that the world will be unable to resist.
So why don't all songs sound the same? Why are some artists great, write dozens of classics that move you to tears, say it like it's never been said before, make you laugh, dance, blow your mind, fall in love, take to the streets and riot? Well, it's because although the chords, notes, harmonies, beats and words have all been used before their own soul shines through; their personality demands attention. This doesn't just come via the great vocalist or virtuoso instrumentalist. The techno sound of detroit, the most totally linear programmed music ever, lacking any human musicianship in its execution reeks of sweat, sex and desire. The creators of that music just press a few buttons and out comes - a million years of pain and lust.
We await the day with relish that somebody dares to make a dance record that consists of nothing more than an electronically programmed bass drum beat that continues playing the fours monotonously for eight minutes. Then, when somebody else brings one out using exactly the same bass drum sound and at the same beats per minute (b.p.m.), we will all be able to tell which is the best, which inspires the dance floor to fill the fastest, which has the most sex and the most soul. There is no doubt, one will be better than the other. What we are basically saying is, if you have anything in you, anything unique, what others might term as originality, it will come through whatever the component parts used in your future number one are made up from.
Creators of music who desperately search originality usually end up with music that has none because no room for their spirit has been left to get through. The complete history of the blues is based on one chord structure, hundreds of thousands of songs using the same three basic chords in the same pattern. Through this seemingly rigid formula has come some of the twentieth century's greatest music. In our case we used parts from three very famous songs, Gary Glitter's "Rock 'n' Roll", "The Doctor Who Theme" and the Sweet's "Blockbuster" and pasted them together, neither of us playing a note on the record. We know that the finished record contains as much of us in it as if we had spent three months locked away somewhere trying to create our master-work. The people who bought the record and who probably do not give a blot about the inner souls of Rockman Rock or King Boy D knew they were getting a record of supreme originality.
-Jimi Cauty and Bill Drummond "The Manual" 1988
...all music can only be the sum or part total of what has gone before. Every number one song ever written is only made up from bits from other songs. There is no lost chord. No changes untried. No extra notes to the scale or hidden beats to the bar. There is no point in searching for originality. In the past, most writers of songs spent months in their lonely rooms strumming their guitars or bands in rehearsals have ground their way through endless riffs before arriving at the song that takes them to the very top. Of course, most of them would be mortally upset to be told that all they were doing was leaving it to chance before they stumbled across the tried and tested. They have to believe it is through this sojourn they arrive at the grail; the great and original song that the world will be unable to resist.
So why don't all songs sound the same? Why are some artists great, write dozens of classics that move you to tears, say it like it's never been said before, make you laugh, dance, blow your mind, fall in love, take to the streets and riot? Well, it's because although the chords, notes, harmonies, beats and words have all been used before their own soul shines through; their personality demands attention. This doesn't just come via the great vocalist or virtuoso instrumentalist. The techno sound of detroit, the most totally linear programmed music ever, lacking any human musicianship in its execution reeks of sweat, sex and desire. The creators of that music just press a few buttons and out comes - a million years of pain and lust.
We await the day with relish that somebody dares to make a dance record that consists of nothing more than an electronically programmed bass drum beat that continues playing the fours monotonously for eight minutes. Then, when somebody else brings one out using exactly the same bass drum sound and at the same beats per minute (b.p.m.), we will all be able to tell which is the best, which inspires the dance floor to fill the fastest, which has the most sex and the most soul. There is no doubt, one will be better than the other. What we are basically saying is, if you have anything in you, anything unique, what others might term as originality, it will come through whatever the component parts used in your future number one are made up from.
Creators of music who desperately search originality usually end up with music that has none because no room for their spirit has been left to get through. The complete history of the blues is based on one chord structure, hundreds of thousands of songs using the same three basic chords in the same pattern. Through this seemingly rigid formula has come some of the twentieth century's greatest music. In our case we used parts from three very famous songs, Gary Glitter's "Rock 'n' Roll", "The Doctor Who Theme" and the Sweet's "Blockbuster" and pasted them together, neither of us playing a note on the record. We know that the finished record contains as much of us in it as if we had spent three months locked away somewhere trying to create our master-work. The people who bought the record and who probably do not give a blot about the inner souls of Rockman Rock or King Boy D knew they were getting a record of supreme originality.
-Jimi Cauty and Bill Drummond "The Manual" 1988
Wednesday, June 02, 2004
London's burning down-down-down
Canadian DJ Tiga is a favored son around Blogonia but his new “Pleasure From the Bass” feels so stiff and blocky. Last year’s “Burning Down” was also more interesting in concept than execution; and naming a bunch of cities is usually a guaranteed way to make a cool song (see Electonicat – “Frisco Bay”; Magnetic Fields – “All the Umbrellas in London”; etc.). And that remix of the Scissor Sisters “Comfortably Numb” was dull.
His treatment of Linda Lamb’s “Hot Room” is the only thing I’ve heard that I enjoyed at all. But I don’t think it is possible to ruin a Linda Lamb song.
Canadian DJ Tiga is a favored son around Blogonia but his new “Pleasure From the Bass” feels so stiff and blocky. Last year’s “Burning Down” was also more interesting in concept than execution; and naming a bunch of cities is usually a guaranteed way to make a cool song (see Electonicat – “Frisco Bay”; Magnetic Fields – “All the Umbrellas in London”; etc.). And that remix of the Scissor Sisters “Comfortably Numb” was dull.
His treatment of Linda Lamb’s “Hot Room” is the only thing I’ve heard that I enjoyed at all. But I don’t think it is possible to ruin a Linda Lamb song.
Tuesday, June 01, 2004
Mixology
Chicks Dig Scars' glitchadelic “This Is Radio Thrash Pt. 2” mix includes DMX courtesy of Knifehandchop. While listening, I realized DMX’s genius is shouting really dumb, catchy things really loud, like an urban Andrew WK. Although really DMX came first, so it would be more accurate to say Andrew WK is a classically-trained beef slab soccer Viking version of DMX. They should do a track together. They could call it “Rock Rock Party (Homos Get Stabbed).”
Few mixes can claim to include criticisms of the treatment Vietnam veterans received upon returning to the United States and a bunch of people saying “ass” in different ways. Osymyso’s “Puckish Mix” can. That is only part of the reason it is awesome. Beginning with a beaten symphonic intro and ripping through a sonic range rivaled by few mixes, it largely eschews the pop hits and clumsy rapper-over-genre-x cut and paste so many mixers settle on. Instead, brilliant choices… like Prince’s “Loose!”
Mixes can mash up two songs that have lost their magic on their own to make them special again. It’s not clear why, but adding looped audience party noises and a tuff beat from a disposable Jurassic 5 song to Oasis’ “Champagne Supernova” makes it sound pretty fresh.
You can d-load this one here, but please be courteous of the bandwidth wear, particularly if you want to look at other DJ Z-Trip related items. Thanks to Ben for the link.
Chicks Dig Scars' glitchadelic “This Is Radio Thrash Pt. 2” mix includes DMX courtesy of Knifehandchop. While listening, I realized DMX’s genius is shouting really dumb, catchy things really loud, like an urban Andrew WK. Although really DMX came first, so it would be more accurate to say Andrew WK is a classically-trained beef slab soccer Viking version of DMX. They should do a track together. They could call it “Rock Rock Party (Homos Get Stabbed).”
Few mixes can claim to include criticisms of the treatment Vietnam veterans received upon returning to the United States and a bunch of people saying “ass” in different ways. Osymyso’s “Puckish Mix” can. That is only part of the reason it is awesome. Beginning with a beaten symphonic intro and ripping through a sonic range rivaled by few mixes, it largely eschews the pop hits and clumsy rapper-over-genre-x cut and paste so many mixers settle on. Instead, brilliant choices… like Prince’s “Loose!”
Mixes can mash up two songs that have lost their magic on their own to make them special again. It’s not clear why, but adding looped audience party noises and a tuff beat from a disposable Jurassic 5 song to Oasis’ “Champagne Supernova” makes it sound pretty fresh.
You can d-load this one here, but please be courteous of the bandwidth wear, particularly if you want to look at other DJ Z-Trip related items. Thanks to Ben for the link.
