The dude who read the grafitti on the New York trains like the world’s biggest book, invented the new use of the word “word”, and recorded history’s most expensive piece of rap vinyl is no longer with us.
Det går att piska folk till en viss gräns, men när gränsen är nådd, så slår det bara tillbaka. Dom blir saker och ting ännu svårare för förtryckaren, då bomben exploderar, samma bomb som var en smällare från början. Det gäller att balansera, men konservativa krafter har aldrig kunnat göra det, därav kaos.
Min kommentar är att, dom kan inte ens sköta PL3, PL 19 ordentligt, hur ska dom kunna ta hand om det här på ett korrekt sätt. Alla dom grejerna kommer bara slå tillbaka mot poliser och samhället, ett kontrollsamhälle är inte nyckeln till ett samhälles trygghet.
Deepchord‘s first full length, The Coldest Season from 2006, remains a defining dub techno moment. It’s the ultimate atmospheric album, ideal for the overpowering beauty of cold, desolate arctic landscapes.
This year’s Liumin takes us into other territories. Where Season was meditative, complete-in-itself, this album is adventurous, groove-centered, with samples and street noises masterfully leaked in, layered in the mix discreetly, tastefully, connecting each track to the following. Much more of an urban album, Liumin opens with In Echospace, an atmospheric build-up with a very thinly sketched beat coming in towards the end, and is defined with the following Summer Haze. Like most tracks on here it moves forward in another way, still meditative but not sedative; not desolated, but populated. Water is dripping from faucets, trains are passing by, we hear the wind, records played in the distance, voices in different languages. It makes for the ideal soundtrack for a confused, disoriented walk around town.
Burnt Stage and Firefly are the dreamiest of pulsating-expanding deep house tracks, returning to those melancholic pads that we know and love from Vladislav Delay and Yagya. Sub-Marine, Maglev and Float on the other hand seem to have gotten distracted into rather formulaic undercurrents, aimlessly flowing through the ocean of standard techno sounds. Far from bad, but hardly something that I’ll come back for in the future. The same goes for the entire second disc, which is ambient music built around Japanese field recordings. Some parts are very beautiful, but it needs the right time and place to be appreciated fully. Not the kind of stuff I play daily.
Having already betrayed all expectations of how an Echospace album is supposed to sound, DeepChord are allowed to drift further in the direction of dub music, too. Thus, they can sample. Something it seems like they’ve been waiting years for. Very discreetly they introduce (what I presume is) a classic roots reggae trumpet into BCN Dub, camouflaging it with edits, delay, echo, virtuously creating depth and building atmosphere bit by bit, and not letting the sample play out fully until nine minutes into the song. It’s a beautiful moment, and also a respectful tip of the hat to the dub masters of decades past.
The mind is so complex when you’re based. 32 levels. Welcome to my world. Like I said, I’ve been ready, and it feels good to be here now. Finally realized who’s the rawest rapper: Lil B. (…)
To anybody that thought they had it, need to think again. Throw your hands up, it’s Lil B for Little Boss. I need all the based energy I can.
The production of rap music has gone through changes over the years. From pre-industrial years of block parties to rapping over disco beats to renegade producers taking control over the studio environment and rap taking over the charts. To increased commercialization and the struggle for structural independence and artistic integrity.
One big structural change in recent years is that A&R people have become obsolete. Labels will only do business with artists already established independently and locally. A hundred thousand mixtapes sold, then you can sit at the table with these people. Gone are the A&R professionals who actually sought out and coached new artists into greatness.
Complex: Why do you take that approach? Most of your songs aren’t available for download. There’s a song here, a song there. You have a random 250-song mixtape. It’s chaotic and there’s no order to it.
JonRaff If you think about it, @LilBTheBasedGod’s song collection is like the Pokemon. You have to go on a journey to collect them all. #Based
Just like Marley Marl sampling James Brown had a certain economic advantage over Brown himself plus band, Lil B has arrived steps ahead the mixtape rappers. He has further rationalized the production of rap, with himself on 24 hour www-fueled creative frenzy and with his fans performing the A&R function. They are to select and promote and spread and copy the music. Taste will be made on the internets, copied out onto the streets, copied back in. New scenes and structures are created.
A Swedish blog talks about the cultural black hole where influential rock journalists used to be. Some kind of youth project leader is quoted. He sees a lot of talented kids coming by, but everything they record come out so generic. These kids started watching MTV after the Chill Out Zone got shut down and YO! MTV Raps was ran off the block by the strip club muzak. His point: these kids have no point of reference as to what people have done before. Their ignorance of tradition limits their creativity, as to what music can be. Blog continues:
Regarding the freely copyable culture forms it seems rather that each genre or style is characterized by seperate pockets that rarely communicate. Specialized idiots in their own small section. (…)
They have all the MySpace pages in the world but nobody that guides them in pop culture. No editor, no map reader, nobody that highlights what is good, no matter if it sells in 10 copies, 1000 or 100 000.
This is what is called “The Death valley problem“. (…)
Everything can be found on the internets. The whole history of the world’s art, music, literature and so on is well represented. But where do you look? Someone needs to bring you the news and point out what’s relevant. You need an introduction. The cultural landscape has changed, and most of the generation born in the late 80s and early 90s has been lost in between. If nobody’s there for you, helping you, guiding you in the right direction – face down (ass up) in the mainstream.
Just like there are no real hardcore, working class men standing in the streets around the neighborhood anymore, setting examples, telling kids what right and wrong, and no mothers telling off her friends’ kids as well as her own, there are no hardcore cultural ambassadors standing in the media mainstream passing the torch to the coming generation. Real talent is not afforded there anymore (but takes it’s escape to blogs and trash print media, where less dogma apply, with the following result of either joyous newness or total perversion). Everything that’s not straight from the market division of the record companies or an absolute freak show gets no love. The economic streamlining of the media has all but done away with what is usually referred to as “the fat middles”. Continued translation from Swedish:
A lot of this type of really talented artists gained a popularity that lifted them out of obscurity saleswise, thanks to the attention that this type of open minded but at the same time autistically passionate journalists and editors could give them. That passion seems to have away somewhere else now. Many blame this on an increasing surplus, but at the same time we have the technological conditions to navigate in this surplus today. At least in theory. Until now Myspace and p2p are too decentralized and fragmented, while newspapers are too centralized. Heck, one of the most connecting forums on the net today is as a matter of fact The Pirate Bay.
This is his first American interview since 2006, because he has better things to do — engulfed in a ceaseless surge of creativity, sleeping only two or three hours a night and fueled by coffee and Lucas Valley OG, the strain of medical marijuana he’s currently incinerating. (…)
“He has records from almost every nation,” says his frequent collaborator, hard-boiled Detroit rapper Guilty Simpson. “He doesn’t just buy them to sample. He wants to understand each song. He doesn’t need to know the language to realize musicality.” (…)
“He’d make do with what he had. There was an upright bass with just one string and he’d still use it effectively. He was insane on the drums too. I’d wake up to the sound of him playing to jazz records for hours. He seemed to be doing it because he loved it, not because he necessarily wanted to improve.”
I’m getting Öyvind Fahlström vibes reading this interesting but overwritten interview with Madlib.
Det geografiska avståndet från stadens centrum, göteborskt ordvitsande vs. muslimsk matematik (DE REGNA = ANGER ED fattar du?) – Angered är Sveriges Shaolin.
You rarely hear scratching and techno beats together. A shame, since it’s actually a good combo. At least when that combo consists of Per Hammar and Besh-One. And especially when you have the good judgement of pulling out your funkiest, most bass heavy dancefloor tracks and at times letting the scratches reach the point of abstraction (“is that a scratch? or a synthesizer?”). It’s almost time for a hiphouse-revival (not sure that would be a good thing).
Like they said over at Discobelle: “I’m looking forward to dance to this combo at some late night fiesta this summer.” All this scratching is making me itch.
Jag fick vänta tjugo minuter på pendeltåget. Det hade börjat regna. Jag satt under taket på perrongen och såg ut över duggregnet och bilarna på Stationsgatan. Skulle någonting hända nu?
(s. 17, Nyår)