Fillmo

In the late nineties I lived in a run-down Victorian on MacAllister and Steiner, around the corner from the infamous Fillmo’ projects of San Francisco. There was an amazing inequality between the residents of the Fillmo and the rest of SF, which was in the orgiastic throes of the dot.com boom. The average monthly income of project denizens was around 10 – 12 thousand a year, which wouldn’t even cover most people’s yearly rent.

I remember one morning walking past Eddy and Steiner at 6:30, and seeing loads of police in riot gear swarming the projects and herding people into paddy wagons. It turned out that the project in question was basically taken over by crack dealers. There was a lot of that going on in those parts. I’d pass dealers smoking weed in front of the police station on Filmore and Eddy on my way to work, and the corners were always full of young dudes hanging out, looking shady.

There were several homicides that I heard of in my four years there, not counting the non-fatal driveby shooting in front of my house. Of course, I only heard about the murders that my roommates were witness to or that made the papers because they involved a football player or some other tragic figure. There were countless more homicides that involved people no one cared about shooting other people no one cared about, written off as “gang-related” (read: black on black ie. Does Not Affect Us). There were RIPs spray-painted on corners, trying to preserve the memory of the deceased against the elements and the sand-blasters.

I won’t lie: the project thugs scared the crap out of me. They were young, pissed off, and had nothing to lose. Their whole being was attitude and front. They’d swagger across the streets in slow motion, pants sagging, just begging motorists to honk at them so they could get into a scuffle. People got killed for nothing – flirting with someone’s girlfriend, dissing someone, being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I’m not the type to mess with anyone, but I especially don’t mess with people who got nothing to lose and everything to prove, whether it be the thugged-out kids on the street corners of the fillmo, or the roided out, wasted dudes trolling the marina on the weekends looking to drink some beer and kick some ass.

The disparity between the young men in the Fillmo and the rest of the city was mind-boggling. They had nothing to do with the world outside of their neighborhood, and the world outside of their neighborhood had nothing to do with them. People right up the street were getting rich off computer money, going out to eat at expensive restaurants, buying expensive cars, and they were scraping by in their scrapers, hustling for a living etc.. Totally different realities.

I was reminded of all this recently when I was listening to “So Hood” by Fillmo rap group Bullys wit Fullys. The Bullys are Messy Marv and Guce (pronounced, against all rules of English spelling, as “Juice”). The Bullys have been around for a while, and do their own version of Mobb music, which is the Bay Areas version of gangsta rap. And they are unapologetically gangsta, going as far as putting out an album titled “Gangsta Without the Rap” and declaring in rhyme “I’m a gangsta, not a rapper!”..
“So Hood” is a damn catchy song. It’s got a funky synth sound courtesy of Ea-Ski. The song is an ode to being a gang-banger, drug-dealer, coke-snorter, and all around badass.

“It's the project lover
But I'm a gang banger, and a drug smuggler
Gucey Guce, dope boy with the cake mix
I'm naked with it in the kitchen doin' late shift
See I been bout it, other niggaz rap about it”

They also throw in some classic bay area slang like
“Bitch I thizz and play with my nose” (translation: I like to take ecstasy and snort cocaine).

In some ways, I admire their balls and pride in their situation. There is a prevailing attitude in gangsta rap of “you think I’m a thug? Ima show you what a thug is!!” Or as NWA so nicely put it, “if you don’t like how I’m living then fuck you!” However, listening to the track, I couldn’t help but feel really sad. I’ve heard thousands of rappers spew the same type of lyrics, but never had it hit so close. Here they are bragging about being part of the poisonous lifestyle that keeps bay area cities’ homicide statistics in the triple digits, and has stunted Bay Area hip hop because all the MCs keep getting thrown in jail (like Marv himself). I admire their sense of pride, but I wish they were rapping about a lifestyle that was worth bragging about.
-pst

Why Hip-Hop Sucks in 07....

According to an article in SOHH.com, 70% of hip-hop fans polled in a recent survey said they weren’t feeling the albums that have come out in ’07. This may explain why album sales are reportedly down 30%.

In an interview on said website, Talib Kweli said that he thought sales were down because hip-hop has gotten tired.

“If you look at the CD sales of rappers who are talking about that stuff, it's on the decline. It's been on the decline for years. And it's not because it's misogynistic, and it's not because they calling them hoes, it's because a lot of it ain't good," said Kweli. "The art of the music has suffered where everyone wanted to get in the game and just hustle. There's nothing wrong with hustling and getting your money, but when no one focuses on the art, when the art means nothing, then people are gonna stop buying."

He’s not wrong. The last few years have seen the hustla ethic in hip-hop degenerate to the point of absurdity. I know I’ve railed on him before, but Rick Ross is to me a prime example. His shit is straight garbage, with no talent or thought put into either the music or lyrics. Kids have seen jay or Tip go platinum bragging about being a hustler, and figured that all you needed to do was get a beat and boast and you’d be a billionaire. It reminds me not a little of all the bullshit bands in the mid 90s who heard Nirvana and figured that all they needed were some hooks and a distortion pedal, and voila, penthouses and limos!

I can’t help but feel that MIMS “Why I’m Hot” is the epitome of lazy hip-hop. Here is a song about how good a rapper the boy is, and it isn’t even a well-rapped song. It’s like wearing t-shirt with a designer label – it sends the message but fails in practice. Stop telling me you are hot, and start being hot.

The increasing laziness and lack of artistry in rap is compounded by the fact that too many people are doing it. With myspace and the interweb, any hack with a decent computer can get their mediocrity out for the world to be subjected to. This makes it harder to suss out what is good, and makes the process of discovering new music too much work with too little payoff. There are a lot of good new artists out there, I’m sure, but I think consumers tend to remember all the times they got burned by having to listen to shit that shouldn’t have ever even been a demo to want to wade through the mire of releases out.

I’m hoping the fact that it’s not so easy for any chump to string together 16 bars of bullshit about rims and ice will force hip-hop to step its game up. Maybe we’ll see an increase in the number of lyrical (you know, talented) rappers who actually have something to say and can do so in an interesting way. Of course, Port of Miami went platinum, and the Root’s latest record floundered, so maybe not.
-pst
http://www.sohh.com/articles/article.php/11670

The Grrrls With the Bad Reputation

Bikini Kill were one of the first and most famous bands to be associated with the riot grrrl movement that sprang out of the Pacific Northwest in the early 1990s. Riot grrrl was a feminist reworking off punk rock that took the confrontational, anti-establishment, DIY attitude of punk and focused it on women's issues and empowerment. Riot grrrl was a response to and refuge from the sexism and boys-only mentality of both punk and mainstream music, and a venue for young women to express their nascent explorations into feminism.

Early Bikini Kill was very adolescent both in sound and philosophy, taking a "1, 2, Fuck You" approach to feminism. They were awkward, messy, full of energy and heart but lacked songwriting chops, and were overeager and undersubtle. Their first tape came out around 1990, and then they had a split LP with Huggy Bear in 1992, which were later paired around 1994 into "The CD Version of Their First Two Albums". There are some great songs on this disc, which was partially produced by punk legend Ian MacKaye. "Carnival" is a great punk song, and "Double Dare Ya" kicks things off with a healthy dose of anger. Mostly though, the songs are more full of possibility hindered by a lack of musical ability and maturity. Case in point: The chorus of "White Boy" : "White boy/don't cry/Just die!" It just doesn't quite work as either a chorus or a philosophy. This is the sound of a bunch of excited and pissed off girls (and a guy) in their garage furiously trying to put all of their thoughts into songs, and getting it a little mixed up in the process.

However clumsy their first release is, though, it is full of unrestrained energy. 15 years later it is still hard not to get caught up in their excitement when singer Kathleen Hannah screams "I double dare ya, girl-fuckin'-friend!!"

In 1993 they recorded their first proper album, Pussy Whipped. Pussy Whipped was a step forward for the band, showing off improved songwriting skills. The basic 1-2 punk off their earlier work was replaced with a dirtier, grungier sound, and the lyrics were a little less obvious. My favorite track is the chaotic, manic "Star Bellied Boy", which seems to be an attack on a date rapist. Hannah starts the song off screaming "He said he wanted to/just touch you" before hitting the chorus of "Star bellied boy different from the rest/prove you're different from the rest/you're no fucking different from the rest!" before yelling the final refrain "Why do I cry/every time I cum?/I can't I can't I can't cum!"

It's both heavy and empowering. Here is someone laying out sexual abuse while calling the fucker out for it.

In 1996, the came out with their masterpiece, "Reject All-American". The noisy chaos of their earlier work was replaced by better, cleaner production and actual hooks. It was a little like a punkier Go-Gos, catchy, fun, and smart. One of the highlights was the two-minute blast "Capri Pants" , a declaration of The Love That Cannot Be Named that has Hannah declaring "It feels so good it must be wrong!" The album was followed with a ton of singles that were eventually collected as 1998's "The Singles", which is a must-have. It features one of Bikini Kill's best songs, "I Like Fucking". This song shows how far the ladies came since their days as angry riot grrrls dealing with the darkest sides of gender relations, seeing males as adversaries, and recovering from inequality and abuse.
"Just cuz my world is so goddamn fucking full of rape/Does that mean that my body must always be a source of pain?" Hannah asks, before declaring "I believe in the radical possibilities of pleasure!" It is a truly empowering song, and hints at the sex-positive feminism embodied by artists like Peaches. The fact that this has largely been degenerated in the mainstream into sluttiness-as-feminism just makes the whole thing that much more bittersweet.

By the late nineties Riot Grrrl was being used to sell everything from the spice girls to lipstick, as Madison Avenue jumped on the opportunity to use empowerment to sell the same tired stereotypes to women. Bikini Kill was distracted by multiple side-projects and celebrity, and drowning in scene politics. Like all punk bands, Bikini Kill was more focused on issues in the scene than issues in the larger world, and eventually caved into the pressure and broke up in 1998. Kathleen Hannah went new wave, replacing hooks and sincerity with keyboards and boring irony. The other ladies went on to form several superfluous indie rock bands that drowned in their own jadedness. Still, I can't be that disappointed by the Frumpies or Le Tigre. Bikini Kill left a large legacy, and I think they've inspired a lot of young women to form bands of their own, and have helped make feminism a more acceptable concept. Plus, they fucking rock, which is why they are and will forever be one of my favorite bands.
-pst

Horrorcore

There are rappers like Nas and Mobb Deep who rap about life in the streets with gritty realism that sheds light on the outside of legal society without glamorizing it. There are those like, Jay-Z and T.I. who brag about their hustling past while celebrating being over it. There are those like Rick Ross who make being a coke dealer seem sexier than being a movie star. And then there are those rappers who turn the whole argument on its head.

Gravediggaz were the first to brand themselves "horrorcore" and it was meant to replace gangsta rap as the topic of choice in hip hop. Their 1994 album Six Feet Deep riffed on the dark gangsta mythology that the Wu had established in 1993, and cut out the gangsta. Instead of talking about the horrors of the street, the went medieval on our asses, rapping about chopping people up, committing suicide, blood, guts, and mayhem.

The group was a collaboration between producers prince paul and the wu's own RZA, and it reflects both Prince Paul's twisted sense of genius and the RZAs dark, cinematic beats and byzantine mythology. Mostly, though, it's funny, clever, and has incredible beats.

Six Feet Deep was a critical success, but the group failed to steer rap into a new direction. Horrocore didn’t become the new gangsta rap. Their two follow-ups weren't as good or successful, and I think the project is pretty much dead by now.

I lump Cannibal Ox's 2001 "The Cold Vein" in the same category of the Gravediggaz, even though they didn't consider themselves horrorcore. Rather, Cannibal Ox used the same sense of dread of a horror movie to riff on life in the Rotten Apple. Where the Gravediggaz were tongue in cheek, Cannibal Ox were decidedly serious. They described the horrors of violence and disenfranchisement as if they were telling a horror story, and the claustrophobic, paranoid beats by El-P backed it up.

"And if there's crack in a basement
Crack heads stand adjacent
Anger displacement
Food Stamp arangements
You were a still born baby
Mother didn't want you, but you were still born
Boy meets world, of course his pops is gone
What you figga
That chalky outline on the ground is a father figure
So he steps to the next stencil, that's a hustler
Infested with money and diamond cluster
Lets talk in laymen terms
Rotten apples and big worms
Early birds and poachers
New York is evil at it's core, so those who have more than them
Prepare to be victims”

The Cold Vein is a brilliant record, and was for a time seen as the rebirth of underground hip hop. Then they broke up.

More recently, there are Jedi Mind Tricks. This duo has a name that sounds like some shitty jam band or crappy pop punk act, and album covers that rival those of epic metal bands like Iced Earth. However, they are neither shitty nor metal. Instead they combine RZA-inspired beats with horror-imagery-filled rants on the state of the bullshit. And vietnam. I checked out “Servants in Heaven, Kinds in Hell” from my local library, and I was impressed by their rhymes and beats, which often sample mafia-type songs
The combine war imagery, horror imagery, gangsta violence and good old boasting to come up with line like "You don't gotta go to church to get to know your god” or:

You ain't safe if the bomb exists
so I side with the Vietnamese communists
if you wit me mothafucka raise your arm and fist
and we can bust a fuckin' cap and see if God exists
I scarred your wrist, with a poisonous rusty razor
if its Jedi Mind Tricks then it must be flavour

At sixteen tracks, it’s a little too much darkness for my tender ears, but five or six albums in, they are still cooking.

So there you go. Three scary-ass hip-hop albums that also happen to be innovative and good.
-pst

Fela

I first came across Fela Kuti at the SF Public Library, where i found a copy of his "Expensive Shit!" album. I was pretty much sold on the cover, which featured fela surrounded by a bunch of nekkid ladies with his fist in the air. The story of the album is that the nigerian government was trying to bust fela for pot (which they may have planted on him), so he swallowed it, at which point the government jailed him so they could get his feces and prove he had pot. Fela managed to smuggle his poo out of the prison, hence the title of the album.

In a lot of ways, that title sums fela's music up. Absurd, funny, joyous, yet angry and anti-oppression. Fela sang about issues - the failure of trying to impose European values in africa (gentleman, lady), the oppressive government (zombie, expensive shit), trying to create unity (water). That's a lot of the reason why everyone from Uber hipsters at Pitchfork and hip hop heads like Blackaliscous are so into him.

The other reason is that his music is really, really good. It's the perfect combination of funk and jazz, all mixed in with more traditional african rhythms and musical tendencies. Fela called it Afrobeat. To me, it sounds like a close cousin of funk and r & b music from the seventies, and an uncle of modern day hip-hop.

The songs are long, and almost all of them revolve around the same repetive rhythm, the endless drum. Often they will have three minute intros before they even get to the main body of the song, and it is not uncommon for his songs to hit the 13 minute mark. In fact, they weren't ever really meant to be records. Fela was all about the live experience, and once he cut a track to vinyl, he stopped peforming it. His songs seem more like experiences and movements than careful compositions, masterful freestyles and improvs.

Fela kuti is also world music in the best sense, because it allows you to share in the experiences and emotions of another culture without feeling like a tourist. This isn't some hippy ass shit, this is the real deal, music that makes you feel alive (although I guess people that like hippy ass shit might think it makes them feel alive, too).

There is a readily available double disc greatest hits called "The Best Best of Fela Kuti that is pretty indispensible. At the very least it is proof that other countries besides the us and uk can rock out.

-pst

Rap Italiano

I got into 99 Posse when I was studying in Italy in 2000. I was trying to absorb the culture and language through music, and these guys were one of the few Italian bands who I could handle. Italians contribute many, many wonderful things to the world, but non-cheesy music is not a strength of theirs. I’m not saying it’s a weakness, just an area for improvement

99 Posse (the 99 is pronounced novanta nove, not “ninety-nine”, btw) started around 1991 a Centro Sociale in Napoli called Officina 99. As their website says, the group was born as a direct expression of the Centrol Sociale and of the new urban cultures that found in music a powerful vehicle”. A Centro Sociale, or Social Center, is sort of like a commie community center, I think.

So basically, from Day One the group was politically motivated, and this is one of the coolest things about the band. Like Manu Chao and most of the Italian left, they are anti-imperialism, pro-minority, pro-immigrant, and think communism is sweet. They are for marijuana and the working man, and against the government mob, and bosses.

Musically, the are essentially a less-irritating Black Eyed Peas, complete with sexy female singer and multi-kulti vibe. Rather than going for the cartoony pop overload of the peas, 99 Nove is more oriented in trip-hop and electronica, with some rock and funk thrown in. It wouldn’t be a revolutionary party band without the funky rock, after all.

I have two albums by them – 1999’s Corto Circuito (Short Circuit) and 2000 “La Vita Che Vendra” Corto Circuito is a little mellower, a little more rooted in trip hop, and not quite as pop and political as “La Vita”. By contrast, “la vita” is a Technicolor explosion, Che Gueverra and the Children of Seattle by way of Europop. The song starts out with the techno-infused call to arms “Comincia Addesso (“it begins now)

One of my favorite tracks is “L’anguilla”, a bouncy, surf-guitar infused track with the best diss line EVAH – “e va fà mmocc’a chi v’è mmuorto”, which is Napolitano for “go give head to your dead relatives.” Awesome.

I’m also a fan of the rockin’, bass-heavy “esplosione imminente” (Imminent explosione), which is about all the tensions in the world and how there is a whole breed of disaffected underclass ready to stand up against the system and fight the powers that be. “No School No Job No Indentita’”.

The most pop song on the disc is “Commutwist”, which laments how socialism has fallen out of favor in recent years, claiming that it is so out of mode to be communist that they dance the twist. For all it’s bouncy goofyness, it is rooted in solid convictions and lines like:

“E poi c’é la flessibilità
a nuova moda a tutti ormai nota
che ci divide tutti a metà
chi more ’e famme e chi va in Europa”
(and now there is the flexibility, a new way that has already been noted, that divides the entire world in half – those who die of hunger, and those who go to Europe.)

I don’t know if the song was a hit in Italy, but it certainly had the possibility to be one – it’s the kind of cheesy europop that gets overplayed in cafes and discos over there. I can imagine them doing a halftime show. It’s an ingenious way of spreading a serious message. Jay-Z may sport a Che shirt, but 99 live it, baby.

I think the band still exists in some form or other, although it seems like they’ve been in semi-permanent hiatus for the past six years. There stuff is also not easy to find in the us, although with the magic of the internet, I’m sure it’s findable. I’m not sure that someone without an appreciation for Italian and Italian music would necessarily get in to 99 Posse – it can’t begin to compare to PE or Rage Against the Machine or any other political American hip hop acts. However, if you want to explore the impact hip hop has had on the world, and want to see how other cultures have adapted the hip hop into their own, “La Vita Che Vendra” is a good place to start.
www.novenove.it

-pst

Funky Side of Life

Sound Directions
The Funky Side of Life
Stones Throw, 2005
Sound Directions is yet another fake band/quasi-solo project from Otis Jackson AKA Madlib, AKA Yesterday’s New Quintet AKA one of my favorite musicians ever. Like his Yesterday’s New Quintet stuff, this is basically a one-man Madlib jazz band, with some jazz musicians offering their horn skills to the mix. Unlike the Yesterday’s New Quintet stuff, Sound Directions is funkier and more upbeat (hence the title).

Funky it is. The Funky Side of Life is pure, funky, late sixties/early seventies jazz, Herbie Hancock meets Isaac Hayes meets the JBs. And it is frigging awesome. My favorite track is the upbeat “Horse”, with its lively horns and pounding rhythm, but really, all the songs on this disc are good. In a way, I couldn’t help seeing this as a hip-hop album: what madlib has basically reproduced here are the brilliant breaks and riddims that formed the backbone and blueprint of hip hop for most of its existence. That’s a testiment to how brilliant a musician Madlib is, and just what he brings to hip-hop. Madlib understands and appreciates the music behind the records and breaks, the decades of music that lead up to hip hop’s foundation.

I could tell that the album was pieced together from different performances by the same musician. There is a slight stiffness and lack of improvisation or riffing, and the songs end up slightly more subdued because of it. It’s not a big deal, but it’s noticeable, and I would love to hear Madlib form an actual band around this project. Even as it is, Sound Directions is a great disc, and yet further proof that Madlib is the man to watch.
-pst

Snoop responds to Imus

Radio DJ Don Imus was recently canned from a lucrative gig with CBS for referring to the Rutgers Women Basketball team, who are black, as “nappy-headed hoes”. This has started a lot of talk about using offensive language, and a lot of people have been pointing to hip-hop as a major contributor and culprit of the spread of racist and degrading language. After all, Ludicris had a top ten hit not too long ago with his jam about having “Hoes in different area codes”, and the majority of club anthems throw that word around.


In reaction to those accusations, Snoop Dog had this to say to MTV (lifted from www.rapreviews.com):
"[Rappers] are not talking about no collegiate basketball girls who have made it to the next level in education and sports. We're talking about hoes that's in the 'hood that ain't doing shit, that's trying to get a nigga for his money. These are two separate things. First of all, we ain't no old-ass white men that sit up on MSNBC going hard on black girls. We are rappers that have these songs coming from our minds and our souls that are relevant to what we feel. I will not let them muthafuckas say we in the same league as him."

So evidently it’s ok to refer to women in the hood as hoes, but not college athletes. Bullshit. And it’s ok for black guys to say it, but not white guys. Um, uh, no.

In 1988, when NWA and 2 Live Crew hit the scene, the fact that they used profanity and referred to women as bitches was truly shocking. It caused and uproar. Court cases even. Almost twenty years later, it’s become so commonplace to hear offensive and degrading language in pop culture that a track like David Banner’s “Play”, with its lyric of “C’mon girl, lemme getcha pussy wet” doesn’t even turn heads.

Maybe it’s time we all stop giving this shit a pass.. Maybe rappers should get a little more creative with their material and language, and stop resorting to f-bombs and misogyny. The chickens are coming home to roost. With hip-hop becoming the predominant pop culture, it’s language and values are starting to enter into the mainstream. An unfortunately, that doesn’t just mean phrases like “da bomb” or valuing multi-culturalism. It also means that words like nigga, bitch, and ho become part of the mainstream lexicon, and the bullshit values of materialism, romanticizing parasitical criminality (that means you, clips, rick ross, jay-z, t.i., and all you other drug dealer rappers) and basically being an asshole hood rat. And you can’t put all that bullshit out there without it coming back and hitting you in the ass. You can no longer control the conversation. You can’t say that only black people can use nigga or hoe, because if all white people hear is you saying nigga and hoe, why wouldn’t they assume it’s ok to say. Shit, they call themselves nigga all the time? Why can’t i? how you gonna tell me it’s offensive?

At the same time, the media and especially the shock jocks need to realize that we are not in a post-racist society, and you can’t pull shit like calling women “nappy-headed hoes”. It’s not ok, it’s not funny.

I hope this whole stupid incident will make people do a better job of addressing race issues, and maybe force rappers to get a little more creative in their rhymes and subject matter. Ten to one, though, mr imus is back in business within a year. Fucker earns way to much money to get shut down for long. And frankly, there is way more offensive shit on the airwaves than what he was doing.
pst

Healing power of disco

LCD Soundsystem
Sound of Silver
Capitol, 2007

There was an argument during the rave heydays of the early 90s that somehow getting sorted for e’s and whiz and dancing like a git until 5am was a revolutionary act, that by partying and having a good time ravers could fight the system and promote world peace. I think that’s a questionable philosophy, but there is something to be said for the power of feeling good, and I can’t help but think that the world might be a better place if people would spend more time dancing their asses off and less time sitting in front of computers or doing any of the other mundane and unhealthy tasks our lives are consumed with.
Until we all came down and ended up depressed and cranky on Sunday morning, I guess.

Rave politics aside, LCD Soundsystems “Sound of Silver” is a vivid reminder of how refreshing and healing feeling good can be. As with the first disc, Sound of Silver sees maestro James Murphy mixing 70s dance punk, 80s new wave, and 90s house into a funky, slightly ironic, totally exhilarating concoction.

The disc starts off with “Get Innocuous!”, a cowbell, house infused number that is what we have come to expect from Mr. Murphy. There are a number of other dance punk songs on the disc, like “Us. V. Them” and “The sound of Silver”. It’s all fun without being stupid, head-bobbing without being inane, and for that, I am very grateful. Fuck morning coffee, just put this on. It’s like being alive.

Dancy tracks aside, my favorite tracks on this disc were the mellower, prettier ones. “Someone Great” pulses along like a Jan Hammer-IDM remake, with lyrics that fit the pretty, introspective mood of the music. On “All of My friends” he channels Brian Eno. The highlight for me was “New York I love You, but You’re Bringing Me Down”, which is not unlike Bowie’s “Rock n’ Roll Suicide, a piano ballad that leads to an epic climax. It’s both a love letter and breakup letter with NYC, laying out how much it has changed, and how disappointed mr. Murphy is:

New York, you're perfect
Don't please don't change a thing
Your mild billionaire mayor's
Now convinced he's a king
So the boring collect
I mean all disrespect
In the neighborhood bars
I'd once dreamt I would drink

At the end, he admits “you’re still the one pool where I’d happily drown”. As someone who has a conflicted romance with my own city of residence, i could totally relate.

I don’t know if listening to Sound of Silver will do anything to help stop the killings in Iraq, ease tensions with Iran, slow global warming, or help provide food, shelter, and healthcare to everyone. I do know that it will make you feel a hell of a lot better about being alive and human, and that’s a step, right? In short, this disc is totally fucking awesome and you should go buy it. Believe that.
-pst

Smash your head on the punk rock

The EPs of RP

I got this used at a heavy metal record store in Pavia, Italy. What I got is actually a burnt CD, with all the liner notes loving photocopied.

Rudimentary Peni were contemporaries of Crass and the Subhumans, and share the sound and aesthetic of those other early 80s anarcho punk bands.This ep is a reissue of their self titled and Farce eps, both from 1981.

The 12 songs from “Rudimentary Peni” are all rapid fire, with only one of them clocking in at over a minute. Most are thirty second blasts of goodness, and like the best short songs, they cram all the melody, rhythm, and angst into thirty seconds that most bands need three minutes to accomplish.

The songs reflect singer Nick Blinko’s psychiatric issues, and both vocally and lyrically he sounds on the edge. He wails out of tune about black presidents, seagulls, and wild dogs. As with his insane artwork, Blinko brings a lot more to punk than the standard “fuk the system” bluntnesst of contemporaries like Discharge.

He also has some lyric gems. My favorites are “A vicious circle of passive acceptance/passive acceptance of a vicious circle” and “we all play the same old chords/we all tread the same old boards.”

The songs from Farce are a little longer, more directly political, and toned down from the first ep. The songs are more issue-oriented, commenting on the so-called generation gap, the blble (criticizing it as a tool for slavery in one track, and comparing it to a ball of bile in another), etc.

The stand out tracks include the droning, flipper-esque “Rat Race” where blinko shouts “are you really justified in having nothing to say?are you not aware of a feeling of humiliation?” My personal favorite is bloody jellies, a frantic, hysterical rant on impending nuclear doom where there will be “angels with burnt wings” and “no coffins, just bloody jellies.” Few tracks encapsulate the 80s nuclear dread as well as that one.

RP are actually still around, and they have put out several classic albums since their first EPs, but for my money, the EPs of RP is not only their finest work, it is an essential punk album.

Don't Miss Rush

I bought tickets for the Arcade Fire a few weeks ago on Ticketmaster, and now I get spammed by them all the time. Today in my inbox was an email titled "Don't Miss Rush". If there is one thing I dislike more than spam, it's spam that is totally misdirected. I bought tickets to see the ARCADE FIRE. What the hell makes ticketmaster think that I'd be into Rush? Is the connection that they are both from Canada and both are amazing musicians? Does the drummer of the Arcade Fire have a degree in Musicology like Neal Pert?

One exciting thing is that they are playing Shoreline Ampitheater (rush, that is). That means that there are still a hell of a lot of Rush fans out there. Now, I don't actually like Rush, and I choose not to listen to their music, but I know that they make a lot of (geeky) people happy, so more power to them. They should totally coincide the concert with a D and D convention. That would rule.

Is hip hop dead?

A colleague of mine asked me yesterday if I though hip-hop was in a slump. He referenced the Mims single as an example of the depths the genre has sunk to.

True, there is no shortage of shit rap out there. A lot of heavy unit shifters are utter garbage, and when I listen to some of the stuff on the radio, I am amazed at how little talent these bastards have. What happened to being able to rhyme? To having flow? To having something to say? To having interesting beats?

The truth is, rap is now at the point rock is at where the majority of shit out there is, well, shit. In the 60s, there was no shortage of amazing, popular rock bands. Some of the biggest names in rock from that time are also among the best: The Who, the beatles, the stones, the kinks...

Nowadays, the biggest names in rock are people like nickleback who are generic bullshit. True, there are still decent bands selling buttloads of albums, but there is so much mediocre filler out there cluttering the airwaves.

So don't let the Good Charlottes or Rick Ross's of the world get you down. If you dig a little, you will always be able to find people making real music, no matter what genre.

Ruff Draft

J Dilla
Ruff Draft
Stones Throw, 2007


The Ruff Draft EP was originally released by an obscure German label in 2003, between Dilla’s production work on Common’s Electric Circus and his Jaylib project with Madlib. Dilla had been fucked around by MCA, was estranged from his wife and kid, and on a really experimental tip. The result was ten tracks that showed both his brilliance as a producer and his abilities as an MC.

Stones Throw has re-released the EP as a two-disc set, complete with extra tracks and an entire cd of instrumentals. I have to admit that I was a little upset when I realized that my 13 bucks got me only 50 minutes of music (each cd is about 25 minutes long), and at first I thought it was a total waste to not just put it all on one disc. The logic, I’m sure, is to preserve the integrity of the original product, and adding on 10 instrumentals to the end would fuck up the flow. It’s not the greatest solution, but I appreciate where they are coming from, even though I may just burn both sides onto one cd.

Musically, this is solid work. Dilla is both out there but solid, so all of the tracks are head-bobbing but unique. My favorite track is a reworking of Slade’s “Cum On Feel The Noize”, which features Dilla rapping over an acoustic rendition of the song with a little boy singing the chorus. The fact that Dilla came across the track and decided it would make a good beat shows how good he was at producing.

While his skills as a producer are beyond reproach, his abilities as an MC are not quite immortal. He is good but not great, but all of the tracks work, and there aren’t any lines I’ve come across that have made me cringe, which is saying something these days. This may not be mindblowing lyricism, but it does the job.

In the end, this is a great EP and a fitting tribute to a J Dilla. I’m happy that Stone’s Throw took the time and effort to put out such a nice-looking package (go Helvetica!), and it is always wonderful when obscure records get more widely released. The whole “This is strictly for my real niggaz” language in the liner notes cuts down on the seriousness and somberness of the whole thing, but whatever. Dilla was who Dilla was, even if he did try to get his gangsta on sometimes.
-pst

Cover Me Badd

The lastest podcast from Stone’s Throw is entitled “Cover Me Badd”, and it is 45 minutes of soul and hip hop covers. Some are novelty tunes, like a remake of “Rumours” titled “Roaches”, several are female responses to macho tracks by LL, Rob Base, etc, and some are just fucking awesome, like the Japanese version of “Give Me One More Chance” by the Jackson 5, and the Spanish version of “Do You Think I’m Sexy”.

This is why Stones Throw and podcasts rule. They dig up all this random shit, and then present it to the public. It is pretty magical. They definitely made my morning, particularly as I’ve been on an 80s kick. I’ve been watching reruns of Miami vice, and that shit has been warping my mind, giving me fond memories of kicking around my neighborhood on my bike, playing GI Joes with my friend scott, breakdancing at recess…ah. Good times. Bad fashion, but good times.

Holy fuck I’m old.

http://www.stonesthrow.com/jukebox/
feed://www.stonesthrow.com/jukebox/podcast.xml

Podcasts I like

Pasion por el ruido.
http://www.radioruido.com/

This is a weekly-ish Spanish podcast that features hardcore punk, with an emphais on the crusty and anarcho. In other words, no bullshit straight-edge, macho victory records crap, no whiny emo kids, and no linkin park soundalikes. I’ve always believed that this kind of music was best presented in brief, easily digestible packages, and the podcast is perfect. Nothing makes my morning walk through the marina more bearable than to be listening to someone scream unintelligibly about how much the government sucks. I’m pretty sure they are all against vivisection too. rrrrrwaaaaaaaaarrrrrrghhhH!!!!!

Hip Hop Drought of 2007 aka Patrick’s Commitment to Fiscal Responsibility

I am very proud of the fact that I am able to support myself and pay off my extensive school loans while living in a really expensive city. However, my insistence on living in San Francisco and staying in the non-profit sector has significantly impacted my ability to be totally iced out and party with strippers The fact that I hate diamonds and gaudy jewelry, don’t party, and can’t deal with strip clubs has also played a role in limiting my playa status.

Hip hop has been playing a major roll in making sure I don’t break the bank in these lean times by not putting out a single record worth plopping down my hard-earned money. Part of this has to do with the fact that I am pretty much over southern and/or street hip hop for now, having invested all of the time and money I can into those genres. There is only so many rhymes about getting one’s lean on that a boy can deal with. I also hit a fucking wall with Rick Ross’s album, and the latest single by Mims, “This is why I’m hot” which features perhaps the worst rap in the history of the genre “this is why I’m hot, I’m hot cuz I’m fly, you aint’ cuz you not.”

My ability to listen to hip hop has been further impacted by positive developments in my life, namely an increased social life directly connected to seeing someone. Someone female. Someone who prefers acoustic guitars to 808s. I’m trying to convince her of the merits of hip hop, but even I know that there is no point trying to get her to like Death Certificate or the new Clipse album.

Sigh. So come on now, all you mcs. Prove me and nas wrong and give me a reason to spend my hard-earned bread. J dilla’s Rough Draft and Madlib’s album of Indian influenced beats may be effective contenders.
-pst

American Hardcore

American Hardcore
Directed by Paul Rachman
Based on the book by Stephen Blush
Sony Pictures Classics, 2006

American Hardcore documents the first wave of US Hardcore, from roughly 1981 – 1985. It combines archived footage with present-day interviews of people involved in the scene.

First the good – it is pretty thrilling seeing footage of Bad Brains, Black Flag, and Minor Threat from back in the day. I was especially excited about the Bad Brains stuff, as I had never had a chance to check them out, and goddamn, are they good. They are four Rastafarian jazz musicians who decided to apply their technical skills to hardcore punk, and they fucking rocked.

I also really enjoyed the interviews with my childhood idols Henry Rollins and Ian Mackaye. I’m not sure how much they enjoy being considered punk’s elder statesman, but they do a pretty good job of it.

Now for the not-so-good: At it’s best, the film is a documentation of the scene, but in a lot of ways, American Hardcore is just a bunch of old dudes reminiscing about how fucking hardcore they were back in the day. I’m seriously hoping that TSOL’s Jack Grishom was taken out of context when he was bragging about pissing in a drunk girl’s face or blowing shit up with homemade pipe bombs. I mean, I know he was one of the biggest, meanest assholes in punk, but I hate to think that he still believes that that is something to brag about.

Also, the message of the film, that hardcore punk was revolutionary, is belied by the footage of the film, which shows a bunch of 16-year-olds hammering out tuneless songs that all sound the same. The problem with hardcore is that for every amazing band like bad brains or minor threat, you had, well, you had pretty much the rest of the scene, which was kids with a lot of heart and very little talent. Don’t get me wrong, I love old hardcore, but it has a very limited scope, and most bands only produced a handful of good songs, one album tops.

I was seriously offended by how the only reference to the post-85 hardcore scene was to imply that they were all a bunch of sell-out, wimpy fucks. As the guitarist of gang green says, “they are riding a tour bus on the road we paved.” Worse, Zander Schloss, of the Circle Jerks, says “Punk is over! Go home, your cage is clean!”

Yes, hardcore got incredibly shitty and violent and metal in the late 80s, but it has had more than one renaissance since then. I was a big fan of the whole crust/extreme music scene in the late 90s with bands like Hiatus, Doom (who, admittedly, are foreign),Charles Bronson, What Happens Next, His Hero is Gone, Monster X, Orchid, etc, etc. There were tons of bands who were carrying on the DIY tradition of the originators, and creating music that was as good or better. They were also more sophisticated politically, and organizationally, creating viable alternatives to the mainstream music industry. Think Maximum Rocknroll, or prank records, or 625, or life is abuse, or profane existence, or Heartattack, all of which are still around. As hardcore has aged, it’s tackled a lot of issues that were not dealt with in the early days, like racism, sexism, and homophobia in the scene, and how to help punks practice what they preach more by providing outlets for activism etc. Activist collectives like food not bombs or crimethinc have spread up alongside punk, allowing hardcore to be much more effective in creating social change than just singing about how fukt the government is.

In the end, American Hardcore was a reminder for me to stop being such a jaded old man, and to try to resist sinking into icky, self-righteous nostalgia.

Bargain Basement Treasures

Drive Like Jehu
Yank Crime
Interscope, 1994

I came across Yank Crimes in a bargain rack for 4.95 around 1995. A friend of mine had told me that it was good, so i figured i could spare a five-spot to check it out. Little did i know that it is one of the classic post-punk albums, and one of the best albums to come out of the nineties.

For those who don't know, Drive Like Jehu was a band with Rick Froberg and John Reiss, the latter who would have fame with Rocket From the Crypt. Yank Crime was Jehu's second album, and it is a doozy from start to finish. The band was two guitars, bass and drums, but they sound a lot louder than that. Froberg voice contains the perfect managed hysteria of an insurance salesman about to have a nervous breakdown, equal parts nerdy and unsettled. Henry Rollins may do angry dude better, but no one can do angry everyman like Froberg.

The songs are long and intricate. Jehu truly are math rock, but in a good way. The disc starts off with the barrelling guitars of "Here Come the Rome Plows" with Froberg shouting "Sad to say/it's over now...here come the rome plows!!"

Most of the songs feature long intros - the delecate notes of "New Math", the forty seconds of squealing feedback on "Super Unison", and my personal favorite, the staccato algorythms of "Sinews". Lyrically, the disc is vague but menacing. On "Sinews", Froberg screams "yeah, you been had!" and you don't necessarily know what he's talking about but it creeps you out the same.

Emo and post punk has devolved to a point where it is largely just a bunch of lame fucks whining over bad rock. They should all take a lesson from Jehu, who bring the pain, bring the rock, and make it all sound good and interesting. Viva la Jehu!
-pst

Laugh Now, Cry later

Ice Cube
Laugh Now, Cry Later
Universal, 2006
Another homie got murdered on a shakedown
His mother is in the corner having a nervous breakdown
Two shots hit him in the face from the blast
Framed picture
Closed casket

That, my friends, is genius, pure and simple. On those lines from Ice Cubes 1991 "Dead Homiez", Cube sums up the horror and tragedy of South Central violence succinctly and powerfully. Compare that to the chorus of "Stop Snitchin'", on his 2006 release "Laugh Now, Cry Later".

You can have whatever you want
In the hood, it's do's and don'ts
So when it get hot in this kitchen
Stop snitchin, n*gga stop snitchin

Why even fucking bother? That’s what kept running through my head listening to this track and this album. For most of the album he sounds merely half-assed, but on some of it he sounds downright shitty. Why is cube rapping about not snitching?

The album opens up with the generic but decent Scott-Storch-produced “Why We Thugs”. Its sparse synth and claps beat is very familiar, but works well and is sufficiently head-bobbing. There are other decent tracks on the album, like “The N*gga Trap”, in which Cube returns to the angry social commentary that all us old farts love him for:

The ghetto is a n*gga trap, take the cheese
Soon as you do it here come the police
Invented and designed for us to fail
Where you gon' end up, dead or in jail

In the face of all of the bullshit going on in the world today, and all of the bullshit coming out of hip-hop, Çube’s anger is cathartic and much-needed. It is not, however, enough to justify all of crap on this bloated dis, or forgive clumsy, amateur lines like

I love all my fans cause they know I'm a man
And not a little boy or some fuckin play toy

Shit, cube, should we just be cool, not act the fool and stay in school? You’ve been rhyming for twenty years and you come up with THAT??

I read an interview with cube and he said he didn’t give a fuck about album sales and this was all for his fans. Well, if only that were true. Instead he follows the same tired lil jon/ scott storch production, the same half-assed features, and treads the same played-out subject matter. He also wastes a lot of breath an wack rhymes and in trying to defend himself as the OG. Guess what, cube, you never WERE a gangsta, and that’s exactly why we loved you – because you were angry as fuck at both the racist white system and the suicidal elements in the black community that were killing off the people that the police and prison system let pass. Stop being hard and just be real.

Gah.

-pst

Neon Bible

Two caveats before you read this review:

1 – I just got this album yesterday, and have only listened to it twice (notice, it gets released on the sixth, and I got it the fourth. Cuz I’m COOL).

2 – while I like the arcade fire’s previous release, Funeral, I’m not like their #1 fan, and I’ve not really sat down and obsessed over that record.

That out of the way, I must say that I was all set to hate this record. I like the arcade fire, but their melodramatic, multi-instrumental schtick teeters on the edge of lameness, and I was sort of looking for a reason to finally declare I hated them. But damnit if this album isn’t pretty good. In fact, it contains the same, epic, melodic, joyously sad music that made Funeral so great. Say what you will about the arcade fire, but they got some fire and passion.

A lot of it has to do with lead singer Wll Butler’s beautifully sad voice. And with Chassagne gorgeous alto, which is featured on a track or two, and supports butler’s beautifully on the rest. Also, like Bloc Party, Arcade Fire do a lot to make their music sound vibrant, layered, and alive. They stray from the standard “drum, bass, guitar, keys” formula, including some more esoteric and archaic sounds, but it doesn’t come off as gimmicky.

Whereas “Funeral” was dedicated to the crews’ dead homies and relatives, “neon bible” is a more explicit critique of the west, and is thus more political and less introspective than Funeral. You may or may not be down with this, but they pull it off pretty well, even lines like “Been eating in the ghetto on a hundred dollar plate.”
And then there are lines like the following from Antichrist television blues:
“I don’t wanna work in a building downtown….cause the planes keep crashing always two by two.”
That pretty much sums up the 21st century blues.

So basically, Neon Bible is seventies glam meets eighties new wave meets bruce springsteen. And it is pretty fucking good. Next time someone whines about how lame music is today, put this on and tell him to shut the hell up.

-pst