There’s the long-lasting ‘debate about aura’, writes Louise Gray in the brief but insightful No Nonsense Guide to World Music: ‘Each sound, each idea, they all have porous boundaries’…Insist[ing] on the very existence of the authentic experience becomes an exercise in pursuit of a dubious purity’.
Paul White’s love for all musical forms and his enthusiasm to include just about anything and everything that takes his fancy has seen his star rise. This inclusive nature has seen him to mixing classical symphonies under dialogue from a kitchen sink drama.
Achievements include: Paul White & The Purple Brain, a record based around the work of Swedish psych-rock musician S.T. Mikael. The Strange Dreams of Paul White, another kaleidoscopic venture which makes use of the fast and bulbous segment from Captain Beefheart’s Trout Mask Replica. But it was probably 2011’s Rapping With Paul White which saw a notable increase in interest in the South Londoner’s sound collages. White procured a vast selection of tongue in cheek skits, obscure samples and got Danny Brown, Jehst and Stone’s Throw’s Guilty Simpson and Homeboy Sandman to sprinkle some of their own magic over the top.
We discussed his beginnings and his approach to putting tracks together, an approach which he’s at pains to point out is very much based on intuition. Knitting together the aural and visual aspects of music, his dreamy cuts should activate most of your senses. If you’re not swimming under water in space whilst listening to his Clean Dub version of Tranquil’s Payroll then you’re probably not listening hard enough.
Much is being done at the moment to bridge the gap between mainstream hip hop and pop and underground experimental electronic music and Lunice is a master of producing tracks of this description. Like some sort of musical Clark Kent/ superman transformation, the geek chic, gameboy jingles and arcade samples swell and eventually morph into beefed up gangster anthems.
The perfect Stacker Upper EP was always going to be a hard one to follow and despite some similarities (well the artwork is sort of familiar) One Hunned sees him gravitate more towards his inner nerd than his ubermensch alter ego.
This release gets the Glaswegian based LuckyMe seal of approval and includes Girl unit and label mates, The Blessings, remixes of I See You. The original stalks along like an eerie grime track with kick drum and jittering arpeggiator lifting the deep oscillating synth that slithers over the top.
The mutual influence ’twixt Hud Mo’s latest Satin Panthers EP and One Hunned are clear and I quite like the idea of the two EPs being twinned together in blissful glitch hop matrimony. The percussion on Glow definitely sounds like something from Hud Mo’s Butter and Juice for one appears to make use of the horns at the beginning of Thunderbay. With Juice Lunice takes The Knife’s Silent Shout, rolls it out a little and sprinkles sharp snare effects on top; sending it away with a with a much smoother stride compared to the mechanical, robotic march of the aforementioned Swedish siblings number.
Bricks reminds me a bit of Fancy Forty from Stacker Upper (sorry can’t help but refer to it) with all the ethereal, shimmer of Teeb’s production. A particular highlight is the wistful And She Said which samples DeBarge’s nice ‘n’ sleazy pop ballad Love Me In a Special Way, providing the 80’s jehri curled pop and the accustomed new jack swing inflections that every LuckyMe release tends to possess.
One Hunned contains less of the dense bass that fogged uphis first release and more off kilter rainbow computer game trips. There are less straight forward hip hop tunes and nothing quite packs the instant punch that Hitmanes Anthem or Hip Pop pull, but then again this is not Stacker Upper. Must.get.that.into.tiny.little.head.
What with Diplo inciting jealousy from those unable to catch the wunderkind, by putting him on the bill at the two impenetrable events (the exclusive Redbull Nottinghill Carnival party and the ridiculous FREE Mad Decent block party in New York) it’s a good thing that Lunice will be making an appearance in this fair city at No Uniform at The Harley on 28th September. It’s probably worth going just to see the former B-boy pull some shapes- particularly his renowned flipping pancake dance. Seeing is believing.
Every year we have the predictable furore surrounding the purpose of the MOBOs, that’s the music of black origin awards to those who don’t take too kindly to acronyms. Rather than merely playing into the hands of the powers that be, those who decide what is considered ‘urban’ or ‘black culture’, the whole point of the awards is being called into question as the complexion of most of those nominated slides towards the paler end of the spectrum and more of the music gets the club/pop overhaul courtesy of Calvin Harris, David Guetta and fellow audio prostitute Pitbull. I’m not averse to a bit of latino reggaeton and some Daddy Yankee but this euro club chart invasion has got to stop somewhere. I digress.
Far be it for anyone to complain about the purity of ‘black culture’ and music or the supposed evolution of music of black origin as opposed to the dilution of it. Does the term really have any relevance at all if the folks currently making this music are all the colours of the rainbow? Again, I digress.
The very same could be said for the Brits, another irrelevant musical institution that is suppose to act as a leg up and exhibit the best that we’ve got to offer yet fails to do that on the most monumental scale imaginable. Having seen the South African Music awards it’s probably safe to say it’s the same for most countries. I digress.
So, the review: Rodney Smith’s latest gift for the world is a mish-mash of electro, ‘wonky reggae’, garage, hip hop and funk that despite that description doesn’t really slot into what one’s neatly formed preconceptions of black and British music might be.
Having confessed to being more about the subtleties in his music these days, his Witness the Fitness on this album comes in the guise of a none too very subtle dancefloor number. Those who haven’t heard the radio edit of Toddla T collab Watch Me Dance have obviously been living under a very accommodating rock this summer. Working some 80’s synths and syncopated claps, the track fits well with Smiths’s off key and (purposefully) lazy delivery. The accompanying music video also reminded me of watching the Pet Shop Boys live show at a Belgian festival.
Skid Valley is the antithesis of Watch Me Dance- the Ghost Town to Watch Me Dance’s version of Bowie’s Let’s Dance. Bleak, overcast broken Britain, ‘birth place of the gentleman- who aint gentle when- he wants to gentrify’, is dissected as Smith discusses the perils of gastric bands and the irony of immigration- ‘Get off the boat and chase the dream’. The climatic, string accompanied chorus is provided by…Skin from angsty 90’s Britpop/rock band Skunk Anansie who I think once won a Kerrang award.
Wha Mek is a slightly more sombre ballad about the frustration of not living up to the expectations of others. The upbeat, distorted steel drum effects offset Ricki Rankin’s evangelical warblings quite nicely actually.
My personal fave Here We Go Again features a pulsating, ominous bassline that gives a nod in the direction of George Clinton’s Atomic Dog and remains on the right side of wob wob, without a drop. Phew.
Smith’s deep and, for want of a better word, creamy tones provide a distinctive stamp on his own and other’s releases without any sign of waning or irritating. In terms of cameo vocals, Banana Klan member Ricki Rankin can be heard all over the shop whilst The Path features youthful Gamelan mistress and fellow Big Dadaist Elan Tamara.
The album plays host to a number of disparate elements in terms of both guest appearances and influences, all of which come together to create a very bri-ish commonwealth dish, one that is itself deep and creamy. I digress. Just give him the Mercury music prize or something.
Long gone are the days of busking on London’s South Bank. Ever Present are the days of re-releasing ‘deluxe’ versions of an album made less than five years ago. Originally released in ’07, the 2008 Mercury Music Prize nominated breakthrough album from the foursome saw them take on the role of token teeny tiny little upcoming band within the awards and as you might have guessed they’ve benefited nicely from the publicity. And well deserved publicity it is too.
Naturally comparisons have been made to the orchestra’s Cinematic and Souljazz, bands that display musicianship you’d be hard pressed to find in many other genres.
Too much distortion and drone sometimes makes you suspect that artists are compensating for their lack of musical talent by smudging it into oblivion, as much as the hypnagogic pop thang compels, the crisp sound and huge range demonstrated by artists such as the quartet demands respect and a keen ear to pick out those details.
On the album flourishes of styles are played on conventional jazz instruments but not played in a traditional jazzy way. And by traditional instruments I mean sax, drums, double bass, hang…come on, don’t tell me you don’t know what a Hang is- it is of the aural twin sister of the steel drums but slightly more attractive and played with the fingers. The fascinating instrument gives each track a melodic density- offset by the dynamic but not overpowering drums. But whatever you do, never confuse the Hang for a drum as specialists PANArt carefully advise: “Treating it as a drum and promoting the name Hang Drum … has created a ripple effect of misinformation that leads to damaged Hang, physical injury, and mental and emotional turbulence.” Just don’t do it OK!
For those who haven’t yet stumbled across the quartet or the Hang- this is the package for you. Additional live tracks include versions of the title track and Steps in the Wrong Direction recorded at Copenhagen Jazz festival. Along with a live version of the previously unreleased ‘All the Pieces Matter’, recorded at Maida Vale for Gilles Peterson, all of which fit seamlessly into the pre-recorded and tweaked jigsaw, the only things betraying them is the noise of the live audience.
Embarking on a series of tour dates throughout February, I have it on good authority that their live performances are wondrous.
What I particularly like about reviews like this is the press release explaining the concept behind the ambitious record produced. Delving into the dark corners of sound, that little piece of paper sheds a glorious beam of light onto the mystifying sources of the cacophonous noises produced by the enigmatic performers. One of the not so enigmatic performers on the album is Hans Joachim Irmler from seminal krautrockers Faust and the album is released on Klangbad (English translation: sound bath), Irmler’s music label. Unfortunately I’ll not be able to regurgitate any of the well selected blurb here as I lost it so you’ll have to make do with my stunted interpretation without interference from promotional material.
Remoulding our idea of instrumentation in terms of the blueprint they choose to follow and the tools they use to follow it, Rutman and co possess a taste for DIY instruments and having seen a documentary featuring Faust in which they put a microphone inside a cement mixer, plus videos of Rutman’s ensemble playing makeshift instruments it’s clear that this album is a collaboration between various stalwarts of truly experimental German music.
Dynamic drum fills with an impenetrable wall of noise hovering over the top and the odd moog effect here and there make the record listenable and surprisingly accessible. Empathie makes use of chip tune sampling, a la Ayo (Technology) and Crystal Castles…for about five seconds and that’s the only mention of Fifty Cent you’re likely to get when it comes to discussing a Klangbad release. It’s not that accessible.
Particularly enjoyable is the throaty, meditative Tibetan chants on Oyo which are unfortunately few and far between. Borrowing from the Buddhist chanting tradition, each song melts into one another so if you’re predisposed to Jodorowsky’s Holy Mountain soundtrack or particularly enjoy the output of L.A based label Not Not Fun then it’s likely that you’ll enjoy this. If not then it’s highly unlikely that you’ll enjoy this.
Ras G aka Gregory Shorter, Jr, is one of the many fruits to grow on the ever bountiful Brainfeeder bush. His afro futurist influences and a natural love of dub and heavy bass music all contribute into his extra terrestrial take on the american deep jazz tradition, with the odd airhorn punctuating each track, naturally. Think the BBC radiophonic workshop playing over a rather destructive bassline.
We enquired about the influences behind his Afrikan Space program moniker during which a lot of his personal take on black consciousness seeps into conversation, can you tell?
Co.fee is the wily pseudonym of 26 year old Kofi Sefa-Boakye, member of California based collective My Hollow Drum along with Brainfeeder’s Teebs (who’s beautiful audio weavings are now featured on an Air France playlist!) Bah wee, Yuk and more.
His remixes of the likes of Timbaland, Wu Tang, and a particularly impressive mix of Erykah Badu’s Soldier exhibit his penchant for seamlessly combining vinyl crate-digging booty with chart topping monsters (see his favourite remix answer- there’s no elitism going on here). In a similar vein to BF’s Gaslamp Killer he’s renown for his exceptional live sets, which induce more than just a slight nod of the head and have garnered him enough respect to get him playing LA’s beat scene hive, Low End Theory on a regular basis.
His EP Easy Listening was released in April on Alpha Pup records and apparently had nothing to do with Burt Bacharach.
