A finger on the steam reader has submitted this hip hop sample, and it is too sweet to pass up.
Without the usual historiography and anecdotes, let's just present the two tracks:
The Blues Project - "Flute Thing", 1966
Beastie Boys - "Flute Loop", 1994
Showing posts with label rap. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rap. Show all posts
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Sunday, November 7, 2010
From infinity and beyond: rap production and the mighty Souls of Mischief
A few years ago, I received an awesome gift for my birthday from a dear friend -- a plain blue t-shirt emblazoned with only the following:
Ordered from this hilarious website that takes famous rap lyrics and turns them into mathematical diagrams, the shirt was a fitting gift, given it is an ode to my favourite hip hop song of all time: "'93 'til Infinity" by the Souls of Mischief.
To my mind, there are a wealth of reasons for this song to be considered in the very upper echelon of the best hip hop recordings of all time. Emcees Opio, A-Plus, Tajai, and Phesto each get three verses on the track, keeping all three and half minutes constantly fresh as the lyrical flows change every handful of bars. But instead of each member stepping on the verse behind him in a stage-stealing bid, the trade-offs here are like telepathic baton passes in the chillin'est relay ever run.
Produced by a group of 18 year old kids from Oakland, California, "'93 'til Infinity" redefined the art of lyrical technique for the West Coast. Full of youthful exuberance, the four brash MCs deliver story raps with wry wit and clever asides, that escape the typical violent melodramas of their G-Funk counterparts like Ice Cube and Snoop, and recall the effortless fluidity of jazz rappers A Tribe Called Quest. The easy breezy vibe of the track is amplified by the exceptional video, where the Souls are found miles from the grimy streets of Oakland, dropped into pristine dioramas of rivers, boulders and beaches as Tajai informs you that "sometimes it gets a little hectic out there. But right now, y'know, we gunna up you on how we just chill."
While the efforts of the MCs go a long way in supporting a bid for this track's immortality, it is the warm and ethereal backing beat that puts it over the top. Twinkling piano keys, passing horn bellows, and the potato chip pop of a rhythmic snare drum invite the listener along to break out one of those icy beers and kick back. And it's here that I really fall in love with this song, and with all quality hip hop. As true masters of reinvention, the best rap producers draw inspiration from unlikely sources and present old material in unforeseen ways. For "'93 'til Infinity", A-Plus took a small snippet of "Heather", a nine minute glacial jazz melody created by Billy Cobham in the mid-1970s, and re-cut it into a rap classic. Fast forward to the two minute mark of Cobham's recording and try to figure out how A-Plus would've heard hip hop gold waiting in the middle of that floating cloudscape of a song. For me, its feats like that performed by A-Plus which elevate catchy tunes into something entirely more engrossing.
Where the similarity between "'93 'til Infinity" and Cobham's "Heather" can be difficult to discern at first blush, rap production is often more obvious in revealing from where it has plucked its samples. For instance, on another one of my personal favourites from the Souls of Mischief, "Cab Fare", you can recognize the theme song from the 1970s sit-com Taxi within the opening bars.
However, there is often more than meets the ear in any hip hop beat, and "Cab Fare" is no different. To give "Cab Fare" the pacing and energy required, the Souls of Mischief dropped the drum beat from the Taxi theme song, and spliced the left overs with this killer back beat from "Zimba Ku" by 1970s funk band Black Heat.
For what it's worth, there's something charming about the notion that your favourite rap beats are cobbled together from bits of found treasure buried in the vinyl grooves of old and obscure records. So the next time you sit down with your cherished hip hop hooks, think about whether they are more than just a collection of bass plucks and drum pops, and that maybe they've come from somewhere special.
Ordered from this hilarious website that takes famous rap lyrics and turns them into mathematical diagrams, the shirt was a fitting gift, given it is an ode to my favourite hip hop song of all time: "'93 'til Infinity" by the Souls of Mischief.
To my mind, there are a wealth of reasons for this song to be considered in the very upper echelon of the best hip hop recordings of all time. Emcees Opio, A-Plus, Tajai, and Phesto each get three verses on the track, keeping all three and half minutes constantly fresh as the lyrical flows change every handful of bars. But instead of each member stepping on the verse behind him in a stage-stealing bid, the trade-offs here are like telepathic baton passes in the chillin'est relay ever run.
Produced by a group of 18 year old kids from Oakland, California, "'93 'til Infinity" redefined the art of lyrical technique for the West Coast. Full of youthful exuberance, the four brash MCs deliver story raps with wry wit and clever asides, that escape the typical violent melodramas of their G-Funk counterparts like Ice Cube and Snoop, and recall the effortless fluidity of jazz rappers A Tribe Called Quest. The easy breezy vibe of the track is amplified by the exceptional video, where the Souls are found miles from the grimy streets of Oakland, dropped into pristine dioramas of rivers, boulders and beaches as Tajai informs you that "sometimes it gets a little hectic out there. But right now, y'know, we gunna up you on how we just chill."
While the efforts of the MCs go a long way in supporting a bid for this track's immortality, it is the warm and ethereal backing beat that puts it over the top. Twinkling piano keys, passing horn bellows, and the potato chip pop of a rhythmic snare drum invite the listener along to break out one of those icy beers and kick back. And it's here that I really fall in love with this song, and with all quality hip hop. As true masters of reinvention, the best rap producers draw inspiration from unlikely sources and present old material in unforeseen ways. For "'93 'til Infinity", A-Plus took a small snippet of "Heather", a nine minute glacial jazz melody created by Billy Cobham in the mid-1970s, and re-cut it into a rap classic. Fast forward to the two minute mark of Cobham's recording and try to figure out how A-Plus would've heard hip hop gold waiting in the middle of that floating cloudscape of a song. For me, its feats like that performed by A-Plus which elevate catchy tunes into something entirely more engrossing.
Where the similarity between "'93 'til Infinity" and Cobham's "Heather" can be difficult to discern at first blush, rap production is often more obvious in revealing from where it has plucked its samples. For instance, on another one of my personal favourites from the Souls of Mischief, "Cab Fare", you can recognize the theme song from the 1970s sit-com Taxi within the opening bars.
However, there is often more than meets the ear in any hip hop beat, and "Cab Fare" is no different. To give "Cab Fare" the pacing and energy required, the Souls of Mischief dropped the drum beat from the Taxi theme song, and spliced the left overs with this killer back beat from "Zimba Ku" by 1970s funk band Black Heat.
For what it's worth, there's something charming about the notion that your favourite rap beats are cobbled together from bits of found treasure buried in the vinyl grooves of old and obscure records. So the next time you sit down with your cherished hip hop hooks, think about whether they are more than just a collection of bass plucks and drum pops, and that maybe they've come from somewhere special.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
"Take a sniff, pull it out....
...the taste is gonna move ya when you put it in your mouth!"
As I chewed mercilessly on the out-sized tuna sub that would sit like a rock deep in my stomach for the rest of the hike, Schizz rhymed in his best pudding-mouth impersonation those iconic opening lines: "It was all a dream/ I used to read Word Up! magazine..." I don't remember how we got on the topic of Biggie Smalls. Maybe it was just a convenient distraction for Schizz's mind as we readied ourselves for the last third of the trek up the bony volcanic plugs of basalt rock. There was something comforting, almost escapist, in the juxtaposition of running up a mountain-side and looking out over the expansive vista of the Lower Mainland as we parroted those lyrics from a very different time and place: "We used to fuss when the landlord dissed us/ No heat, wonder why Christmas missed us." Powder and Micah just smirked and adroitly led the way over the troubling terrain, but I couldn't help myself; Schizz and I nattered on between huffs and puffs about the amazingness of that song and all its mythic history for the better part of half an hour. In the midst of our childish excitement, Schizz enthusiastically prompted me to commit some of our random and fantastic nuggets of musical lore to writing. And with that, it seems fitting that the opening entry on this blog belongs to the Notorious B.I.G.'s "Juicy."
In 1994, Notorious B.I.G. released Ready to Die on Sean "Puff Daddy" Combs' Bad Boy Records, with "Juicy" as the lead-off single. In what is critically and popularly considered one of the all-time classic hip-hop tracks, Biggie provides a startling history lesson in three verses about the ascendancy of rap. There are no guest appearances, no promos or shout outs for label-mates pushing their own albums, and no interspersed dramatic sketches. There is just that short of breath, butter-filled voice that could make German sound as smooth and round as Italian.
While the song would reach only as high as number 27 on the Billboard Hot 100, it proved to be a crossover hit that would act as a touchstone--a Rosetta stone, even--for the hip hop culture that had blossomed in the boroughs of New York since the closing days of the 1970s. Every fibre of the song is a positive and reverent look back: from the clemency Notorious grants to those who doubted he'd amount to anything; to the autobiographical footnotes for those rap heroes from hip-hop's Golden Age; to the very name and beat of the song itself. Puff Daddy either deeply mined his record crate or, as legendary producer Pete Rock insists, blatantly thieved from his friends to come up with the bombastic back beat and sensual chorus hook that would bring Biggie to non-traditional rap audiences. Other than re-recording the female vocals and slightly re-cutting the synthesizer flourishes, Puffy borrowed the beat whole hog from James Mtume's 1983 R&B dance floor hit "Juicy Fruit."
The original chorus goes like this:
"You know very well, what you are/ You're my sugar thang, my chocolate star/ I've had a few, but not that many/ But you're the only one, that gives me good and plenty"
And the remixed version by Bad Boy Records' girl group Total:
"You know very well, who you are/ Don't let 'em hold you down, reach for the stars/ You had a goal, but not that many/ 'Cause you're the only one, I'll give you good and plenty"
Mtume's funky ode to licentious intercourse has since been sampled by over 20 artists, including R. Kelly, Common, Jennifer Lopez and Snoop Dogg. But while the catchy beat brought hip hop to those previously unfamiliar, the real legacy of Biggie's "Juicy" is that in a few short verses he was able to connect with a whole new audience and educate them on the origins of rap. From the African-American bubblegum rag Word Up! to the seminal radio show "Rap Attack" with famed disc jockey's Mr. Magic and Marley Marl, Notorious taught you about where he and all the people that grew up in his neighbourhood came from. But at the same time, Biggie let you know he wasn't that different from you. His rags-to-riches tale is about the universal themes of making something of yourself, disproving doubters, playing video games, partying, and sharing the wealth with your friends. Heck, he even throws in Love Bug and Starsky and Hutch references just to remind you he likes crappy television, too. Hundreds of rap songs have chronicled the history of hip hop, but none had ever done so this accessibly. And like the man said; If you don't know, now you know.
For instance, one of the strangest references Biggie makes is to the 1984 novelty recording "Rappin' Duke," by Shawn Brown, where Brown raps in character as iconic cowboy badass John Wayne. Brown parodies the battle rap style popular in the mid-80s where MCs boasted about their lyrical skills by dropping gems like: "When you were in diapers and wetting the sheets/ I was at the Ponderosa rapping to the beat." This is, of course, followed by the eerie laughing "Da hah, Da haahh" hook Biggie alludes to in "Juicy." [Note: Every song I've mentioned in this post is available for your listening pleasure in the playlist in the mini-player above. I will continue this practice in all further posts on this blog, so please "listen along," if you will.]
The more serious influences Notorious notes loom large in the canon of rap. Marley Marl has produced beats for everyone from Fat Joe to KRS-ONE to LL Cool J, but he is likely most fondly remembered for his time with the trail blazing group the Juice Crew, which introduced the likes of Kool G Rap, Biz Markie, and Big Daddy Kane to the world. It is a testament to how influential Marley Marl has been on the evolution of rap production that he was actually the first producer to sample a beat and reprogram it, as evidenced in the family soul groove "Impeach the President" by the Honey Drippers. Other major players counted by Biggie include Kid Capri, a scratch DJ that became mythic for his live party sets where he beat-matched records spanning eccentric genres. For your enjoyment, I've added a classic track to the playlist by Big L (who will undoubtedly be the subject of some later post) featuring Kid Capri as the resident DJ and hype man.
While "Juicy" made Notorious B.I.G. a household name, and Ready to Die became a platinum record, it would sadly be the only album Notorious would see released in his lifetime. Just days before the release of his second album, 1997's Life After Death, Biggie was shot and killed by an as-of-yet unknown gunman during the very height of the East Coast vs. West Coast rap rivalry. There are many conspiracy theories well-documented in books and on film regarding the circumstances of Biggie's murder, and even more materials published on the feud between the East Coast and the West Coast rap worlds. For our purposes, we need only take note that Suge Knight, the head of West Coast rap label Death Row Records, is almost invariably in the middle of any discussion relating to Biggie's death. The reasons for Suge Knight's infamy are lengthy, but "Juicy" acts as an illustrative gateway into Mr. Knight's malevolent connection to Biggie. If you put on a decent set of headphones or have some speakers that pop a bit louder than your laptop built-ins, you will become aware (to the point of irritation, then madness, then nausea) of the fact that Puff Daddy himself yawns and drawls and coos throughout the entire recording: "It's allllll gooodd. Sup. Yeaahh. Thaatt's riiightt." Well, it seems you wouldn't be alone in this feeling, as Suge Knight was equally annoyed. Or, at least, he saw opportunity in it. As evidenced by the short clip below, after accepting an award at the 1995 Source Magazine Awards, Suge called out Puffy for his parasitic self-aggrandizing and asked the artists in the room to switch from Bad Boy to Death Row; from East to West. This was in the middle of Madison Square Garden at a hip hop industry awards show. I need say no more of the bedlam it fuelled. Snoop Dogg and his bat didn't help things much either.
For all his silly arms-to-heaven dancing in the background of videos, to his constant idiotic name changes, you have to give props to Puffy for how he handled things when it was his turn to take the stage. Oh no he diddyn't...
As I chewed mercilessly on the out-sized tuna sub that would sit like a rock deep in my stomach for the rest of the hike, Schizz rhymed in his best pudding-mouth impersonation those iconic opening lines: "It was all a dream/ I used to read Word Up! magazine..." I don't remember how we got on the topic of Biggie Smalls. Maybe it was just a convenient distraction for Schizz's mind as we readied ourselves for the last third of the trek up the bony volcanic plugs of basalt rock. There was something comforting, almost escapist, in the juxtaposition of running up a mountain-side and looking out over the expansive vista of the Lower Mainland as we parroted those lyrics from a very different time and place: "We used to fuss when the landlord dissed us/ No heat, wonder why Christmas missed us." Powder and Micah just smirked and adroitly led the way over the troubling terrain, but I couldn't help myself; Schizz and I nattered on between huffs and puffs about the amazingness of that song and all its mythic history for the better part of half an hour. In the midst of our childish excitement, Schizz enthusiastically prompted me to commit some of our random and fantastic nuggets of musical lore to writing. And with that, it seems fitting that the opening entry on this blog belongs to the Notorious B.I.G.'s "Juicy."
In 1994, Notorious B.I.G. released Ready to Die on Sean "Puff Daddy" Combs' Bad Boy Records, with "Juicy" as the lead-off single. In what is critically and popularly considered one of the all-time classic hip-hop tracks, Biggie provides a startling history lesson in three verses about the ascendancy of rap. There are no guest appearances, no promos or shout outs for label-mates pushing their own albums, and no interspersed dramatic sketches. There is just that short of breath, butter-filled voice that could make German sound as smooth and round as Italian.
While the song would reach only as high as number 27 on the Billboard Hot 100, it proved to be a crossover hit that would act as a touchstone--a Rosetta stone, even--for the hip hop culture that had blossomed in the boroughs of New York since the closing days of the 1970s. Every fibre of the song is a positive and reverent look back: from the clemency Notorious grants to those who doubted he'd amount to anything; to the autobiographical footnotes for those rap heroes from hip-hop's Golden Age; to the very name and beat of the song itself. Puff Daddy either deeply mined his record crate or, as legendary producer Pete Rock insists, blatantly thieved from his friends to come up with the bombastic back beat and sensual chorus hook that would bring Biggie to non-traditional rap audiences. Other than re-recording the female vocals and slightly re-cutting the synthesizer flourishes, Puffy borrowed the beat whole hog from James Mtume's 1983 R&B dance floor hit "Juicy Fruit."
The original chorus goes like this:
And the remixed version by Bad Boy Records' girl group Total:
Mtume's funky ode to licentious intercourse has since been sampled by over 20 artists, including R. Kelly, Common, Jennifer Lopez and Snoop Dogg. But while the catchy beat brought hip hop to those previously unfamiliar, the real legacy of Biggie's "Juicy" is that in a few short verses he was able to connect with a whole new audience and educate them on the origins of rap. From the African-American bubblegum rag Word Up! to the seminal radio show "Rap Attack" with famed disc jockey's Mr. Magic and Marley Marl, Notorious taught you about where he and all the people that grew up in his neighbourhood came from. But at the same time, Biggie let you know he wasn't that different from you. His rags-to-riches tale is about the universal themes of making something of yourself, disproving doubters, playing video games, partying, and sharing the wealth with your friends. Heck, he even throws in Love Bug and Starsky and Hutch references just to remind you he likes crappy television, too. Hundreds of rap songs have chronicled the history of hip hop, but none had ever done so this accessibly. And like the man said; If you don't know, now you know.
For instance, one of the strangest references Biggie makes is to the 1984 novelty recording "Rappin' Duke," by Shawn Brown, where Brown raps in character as iconic cowboy badass John Wayne. Brown parodies the battle rap style popular in the mid-80s where MCs boasted about their lyrical skills by dropping gems like: "When you were in diapers and wetting the sheets/ I was at the Ponderosa rapping to the beat." This is, of course, followed by the eerie laughing "Da hah, Da haahh" hook Biggie alludes to in "Juicy." [Note: Every song I've mentioned in this post is available for your listening pleasure in the playlist in the mini-player above. I will continue this practice in all further posts on this blog, so please "listen along," if you will.]
The more serious influences Notorious notes loom large in the canon of rap. Marley Marl has produced beats for everyone from Fat Joe to KRS-ONE to LL Cool J, but he is likely most fondly remembered for his time with the trail blazing group the Juice Crew, which introduced the likes of Kool G Rap, Biz Markie, and Big Daddy Kane to the world. It is a testament to how influential Marley Marl has been on the evolution of rap production that he was actually the first producer to sample a beat and reprogram it, as evidenced in the family soul groove "Impeach the President" by the Honey Drippers. Other major players counted by Biggie include Kid Capri, a scratch DJ that became mythic for his live party sets where he beat-matched records spanning eccentric genres. For your enjoyment, I've added a classic track to the playlist by Big L (who will undoubtedly be the subject of some later post) featuring Kid Capri as the resident DJ and hype man.
While "Juicy" made Notorious B.I.G. a household name, and Ready to Die became a platinum record, it would sadly be the only album Notorious would see released in his lifetime. Just days before the release of his second album, 1997's Life After Death, Biggie was shot and killed by an as-of-yet unknown gunman during the very height of the East Coast vs. West Coast rap rivalry. There are many conspiracy theories well-documented in books and on film regarding the circumstances of Biggie's murder, and even more materials published on the feud between the East Coast and the West Coast rap worlds. For our purposes, we need only take note that Suge Knight, the head of West Coast rap label Death Row Records, is almost invariably in the middle of any discussion relating to Biggie's death. The reasons for Suge Knight's infamy are lengthy, but "Juicy" acts as an illustrative gateway into Mr. Knight's malevolent connection to Biggie. If you put on a decent set of headphones or have some speakers that pop a bit louder than your laptop built-ins, you will become aware (to the point of irritation, then madness, then nausea) of the fact that Puff Daddy himself yawns and drawls and coos throughout the entire recording: "It's allllll gooodd. Sup. Yeaahh. Thaatt's riiightt." Well, it seems you wouldn't be alone in this feeling, as Suge Knight was equally annoyed. Or, at least, he saw opportunity in it. As evidenced by the short clip below, after accepting an award at the 1995 Source Magazine Awards, Suge called out Puffy for his parasitic self-aggrandizing and asked the artists in the room to switch from Bad Boy to Death Row; from East to West. This was in the middle of Madison Square Garden at a hip hop industry awards show. I need say no more of the bedlam it fuelled. Snoop Dogg and his bat didn't help things much either.
For all his silly arms-to-heaven dancing in the background of videos, to his constant idiotic name changes, you have to give props to Puffy for how he handled things when it was his turn to take the stage. Oh no he diddyn't...
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