Elzhi and Yuck try to recreate the 90s

(originally appeared at HipsterJew)

I’m not old enough to have real nostalgia for the 1990s–the oldest music I heard as a kid that I still listen to has to be the singles off Speakerboxx/The Love Below. But I’ve heard more than enough about it—bands were ethically purer, less willing to sell out, hip hop wasn’t commercialized, the Simpsons was still funny. Maybe people just miss Bill Clinton. I really don’t know.

For hip hop, the early 1990s were a crucial time. Especially in New York, where in one year, Biggie Smalls’ Ready to Die and Nas’ Illmatic dropped (Illmatic came first—Ready to Die copied the album cover). Illmatic’s cast a long shadow on many rappers, most of all Nas, who unlike the narrator of Illmatic, had to age and fall off. But everthing about it’s been incredibly influential–Memory Lane begot 50 Cent’s Hate it or Love It, Cam’ron’s Killa Cam, and every other New York rapper’s autobiographical “this is where I get deep” song. It Ain’t Hard To Tell basically invented the enigmatic “lyricism” of underground rap. Even to this day, people want another Illmatic.

So this Detroit rapper Elzhi gave it to them. Elmatic, which dropped for free on May 10th, is literally a track-for-track recreation of 1994′s Illmatic (shades of Borges). Producer Will Sessions used a live band in the studio to make live versions of every beat on Illmatic. The Ahmad Jamal piano of “The World is Yours” sounds fuller interpolated on Elmatic than it did when Pete Rock sampled it. In fact, it sounds thicker than it did on “I Love Music”. When Elzhi begins a verse “to my man J Dilla, god bless your life”, he is simultaneously referencing Nas’ tribute to his dead homie Ill Will, and recontextualizing it in a modern, Detroit-focused context. Throughout Elmatic, Elzhi rephrases old lines Nas used, or echoes their rhythmic cadence, resulting in a fascinating text that clearly aches for the sounds of 90s rap. You can read this as a commentary on the fundamental conservatism epidemic to hip hop, a commentary on the end to New York’s commercial and critical dominance in the music, or as personal expression. Elzhi sounds a lot like Nas vocally, and while he isn’t quite the lyricist the street’s disciple was back in the day, he can drop a dope line. And the beats are invariably dope—at a good price too.

London indie rock band Yuck approach the 90s from a more guitar based context. Singers/guitarists/songwriters Max Bloom and Daniel Blumberg (yes, they’re Jewish) write music that sounds like an amalgamation of all the big sounds of 90s indie—Pavement, Dinosaur Jr, and all those British shoegaze groups which were too ethereal for me to tell apart. Their self titled album dropped February 15. Unlike Elmatic, it isn’t free, but you can’t hate on a band for trying to eat.

For me, it was a mixed bag. But like I said, I’m not old enough for 90s nostalgia. I was disappointed when the lyrics to “Shook Down” turned out to be “You can be my destiny/you can mean that much to me” instead of “you can be my lunch for me”. What I’d heard as a Positively 4th St-esque putdown/come-on was actually just regular indie lyrics. And while I felt the simple, 4 bar figure of “The Wall” for a while, I don’t know if it sustains itself for four minutes. But the last two tracks of the album are both brilliant, easily ipod status. “Rose Gives a Lily” is a melancholy instrumental that suggests so much without explicitly saying it, and the guitar lines stick in your head long after the song is over. “Rubber” is a long noise rock number, all droning guitars and cooing vocals that changes mood and texture several times. You can listen to it closely or have it on in the background, and it sounds tight either way. But a lot of the album was forgettable, especially the cliched rhyming (fire/desire and dreaming/believing were two of the worst offenders). If Yuck always had great songwriting behind the 90s haze, they’d be a force. As of now, they’re interesting, but more like a civil war re-enactment. They have potential though.

“Muted emotion/Pitch corrected” — Frank Ocean’s Nostalgia, Ultra

(Originally appeared at HipsterJew)

 

So I heard the hipster backlash against Odd Future is in effect. We’ve been sick of them over in Boston. DJs need to learn that playing “Yonkers” doesn’t give you cred, hip hop or hipster. My boy who went to the Odd Future show said it really turned him off them forever—hearing people shout along with the rape lyrics, and hearing white kids shouting the n-word and OFWGKTA not caring about that changed what he thought of them. I was never a fan of Tyler to begin with, not that I’m hating. But Frank Ocean isn’t like that. Frank Ocean is dope.

I’ve been listening to Nostalgia, Ultra again lately, it’s deeper than I thought on first listen. I don’t even skip the Coldplay cover anymore. If anything, I respect that the dude opened what’s supposed to be a hipster-friendly mixtape with a Coldplay song. It’s like he’s daring supermarkets to play it. Even so, I like what he does with “Strawberry Swing”. Frank Ocean’s voice is heavily, heavily autotuned, not 808s level, but definitely impossible to ignore. So he’s an r’n'b singer who’s autotuned, and he’s opening with a cover of the most wonderbread band ever. That’s chutzpah.

It’s after “Strawberry Swing” that this joint gets dope though. You’ve probably heard “Novacane”. That’s the one that’s on the radio, the one that’s going to be the first single when this gets a real release. You know, the one where he’s at Coachella with the porn chick and the ice cold lawn/ice blue bong rhyme? The line that sticks with me there is “can’t feel nothing/superhuman/even when I’m fucking viagra popping/every single record autotuning/zero emotion/muted emotion/pitch corrected/computer emotion”. Dude has lyrics. And he described the record for me. Autotuned, muted emotion pretty much says it all. “Novacane” has ridiculously compressed drums and distant keys—it feels flat, narcotic. This isn’t a sex jam like most would make. This is recreational antidepressant use in musical form.

Ocean turns up the feeling for “We All Try”. Over similarly subdued production (a motif on the album), he sings about “marriage….between love and love….not between a man and woman” (told you this wasn’t like the rest of Odd Future) and a dissipating relationship between him and a nameless girl. The echoey guitar and laconic give this a cinematic feel, and the autotuned crooning is amazing—it means there’s always a layer of distance between Ocean and the emotions he’s allegedly singing about. I feel this cut.

“Songs For Women” is almost a deconstruction of the R’n'B singer. Ocean talks about how he sings to get girls, then feels emasculated when his girl plays Drake and Trey Songs in the car and doesn’t listen to his own joints. It’s sad and funny, and really doesn’t sound like R’n'B, lyrically. R’n'B’s never been this intellectualized.

That’s what I feel is different about Frank Ocean. R’n'B’s always been about pouring out emotion—preferably in a 16 bar hook you can sell to the highest bidder. Ocean’s a much better songwriter than he is singer, and much better at albums than he is at hooks. I hear a lot of indie influence, and honestly, cynicism (and I’m not talking about sexual exploitation. R’n'B did that) is something radically new for the genre—but can an autotuned singer who writes his own lyrics really be classified as R’n'B?

Whatever it is, there’s great material on this album; the way LoveCrimes gets chopped and screwed at the end a la The-Dream, the Mass-Appeal lite keyboard riff on Dust, even some of the interludes (I heard the same Eyes Wide Shut sample on LoveCrimes as on Louis Logic’s All Girls Cheat.) Most of all, there’s the weird texture of the songs: without a thick, soulful vocal tone, R’n'B tracks have a lot of space, so you’re continually reminded of what’s missing here. The mixtape-level audio quality is also a benefit here—Ocean’s re-releasing this album with Def Jam, and hopefully they won’t remaster it. This isn’t high fidelity stuff. This is the album for when you struck out at the club or the party got broken up, and you’re in your bedroom, drunk, horny, and crashing fast

The Wu Emperors have no clothes: Raekwon at the Middle East

(originally appeared at HipsterJew)

Magno Garcia attacks the mic live. He has the old school flow of G Rap or early Nas, but he isn’t rapping about coke and guns. On his mixtape, he sounds like a traditional East Coast MC, more lyrical than most, but live he’s on some other shit, shouting and stomping on beats, while hitting every multisyllabic phrase with finesse. The first time I saw his act, his people from Chelsea filled the floor of the Middle East, throwing their hands up, getting hype. This time, Chelsea wasn’t here. Understandable, it was a Monday. Magno Garcia and DJ/producer Evildewer were opening for Raekwon, first act, around 8:45.

The sound was muddy, too bass heavy. Standing close to the stage, the beats were all low end and no theory. But bad sound at a hip hop show is nothing new. And Magno Garcia killed his set anyway.

“I felt confident on stage.” he said after. “I heard people complaining about the vocals though, the levels.”

“Yeah, the bass was real loud.” I said. “What did you think of Rae’s show?”

“I thought he put on a good performance, I would have liked to see other wu members, but that’s hard to do at the middle east.”
“I thought the set was a little short.” I said.

The other openers were of mixed quality. There were some fat white dudes with EIRE and shamrock tattoos who I disliked on principle, as well as for their crap music. Too much of Boston rap is Irish dudes who think they’re hard rapping about drug shit they know nothing about. They were too hard, too one dimensional, too Southie.

There were some alright acts, not as wack as the Irish guys but not memorable. Also there was Retrospek. I’d seen them before at a show over at Church in a cypher, they’re a good live act. MCs JuneLyfe and A. Spendacash clown around a lot on stage, trading phrases and filling in each others lines. It’s kind of old school, but when you think about the skill it takes to do that, you have to respect it. And it adds a lot live. Retrospek don’t act like they’re taking themselves seriously, and because of that, their set is just fun. I wish more live hip hop was fun. I talked to JuneLyfe after the show.

 

Dr. K: How does your group get to the point where you’re opening for Raekwon?

JuneLyfe: Just basically working hard man, sticking to the books, being well in tune with the right people.

Dr. K: You’re from Boston, right?

JuneLyfe: Definitely. Specifically Dorchester, borderline of Roxbury

Dr. K: You have an album out?

JuneLyfe: We have 2 eps out, one we just released, Boom Bap and Beyond, one we did back in 2009, SOMESHYTWEDID.

Dr. K: Word. What did you think of Rae’s show?

JuneLyfe: Rae’s an incredible artist man, the energy is always there, you know, get the people hyped up, crowd participation is always the key for everyone to have a good time, he brought the funk

Dr. K: what do you see happening in hip hop?

JuneLyfe: Honestly, I’m just glad everyone’s enjoying the realness still, there’s still some lyricism, but you know, everyone’s just having fun, I just make sure I keep myself with the ones who actually like my flow.

 

So at 11:00 Raekwon was scheduled to go on. He didn’t come on til 11:40. Forty minutes isn’t too bad, but in Boston the last trains leave at 12:30. Midnight is when you have to go if you’re trying to catch the T, especially if you have to transfer. My friends had to transfer. I saw a lot of people leaving the club before his set was done. The set was good, I guess. The crowd was really into it, shouting out the lyrics to his songs. Raekwon’s a great performer when he’s actually rapping.

It’s too bad there wasn’t a lot of rapping. Raekwon was on stage for maybe 50 minutes, and talking for about half of it. I tweeted some of his better lines.

“Word to the sneakers I got on n-, they go in.”

“Turn the lights down except the green one! Straight up take the other colors off. Take off the fruity flavors quick, b.”

“Aw, the bruins? You know I fux with the bruins!”
“Money, yeah! Drugs!”
Along with this I heard some of my favorite verses of 90s hip hop, from Nas’ verse on “Verbal Intercourse” to Ghostface’s verse on “Criminology?, to Raekwon’s verse on “C.R.E.A.M.”. It was cool, but, you know, it’s a big rap artist. He had hypemen doing some of his lines, he only did about a verse from each song. I mean no question the crowd was amped, I was shouting along with them, but the whole time I was thinking “this is underwhelming.” When the performer isn’t actually making good music, and people are there to see the LEGEND, it feels dangerously close to classic rock. I defend rappers, but it really feels like they don’t give a shit about their shows.

I mean, Raekwon was good. I’m glad I didn’t pay full price for my ticket though. A fifty minute set is way too short for a $30 show. The sad thing is, this is good for major label rap. It’s hard to expect more. But why are all the best hip hop shows I see underground acts? Nas was disappointing, and Louis Logic was incredible. And why do people act like Raekwon and the Wu put on good shows? They start late, they end early. “MCs, B.” Raekwon said. “We was MCs before we was rappers.”

I don’t want to say there’s a difference between rap and hip hop, but live shows make it feel that way.

Outside after the show I was interviewing Magno Garcia before he drove back to Chelsea. I was wondering if I’d have to pay for a taxi back—staying til the end of Raekwon’s set made catching the bus back to Allston only a possibility.

 

Dr K: Any shoutouts?

Magno Garcia: Shout out to EvilDewer, everybody in Boston that keeps doing their thing, showing that real hip hop is still alive in this city.