Serious Bizness

What could I possibly say about tUnE-yArDs that hasn't already been said on every music blog on the world wide interweb? Nothing. Nothing at all. I was ambivalent about Merrill Garbus's much-hyped music project up until last night, when I got a chance to check out her live act at the very cool Brighton Music Hall. Now I am a convert, an enthusiastic passenger on the crowded but thoroughly entertaining tUnE-yArDs bandwagon.

Garbus was joined onstage by Nate Brenner, who also plays bass on the new record, and two saxophonists. The typical track consisted of Garbus and Brenner whipping up some drum and vocal loops on the fly, which built steadily in complexity and sheer awesomeness until their metamorphosis into a recognizable song was complete. The saxophones were a treat whenever they chimed in, but the main attraction was Merrill's remarkably powerful and versatile voice. With an undeniably unusual sound for a female vocalist, she commands attention with her intensity while maintaining the flexibility to go on some pretty amazing vocal runs.

tUnE-yArDs - Bizness

For a mere 12 bucks, the sold-out crowd was treated to one remarkable song after another. One of the most all-around entertaining shows I've seen in a while, tUnE-yArDs impressed with musicianship, showmanship, and creativity. Sometimes an act takes off because everybody is supposed to like them, but nobody can figure out why (see: Animal Collective). But tUnE-yArDs, like the Dirty Projectors (who they toured with back in 2009), are blowing up for all the right reasons. Check out the new record and don't miss the chance to see this fantastic act on tour. 

Running from "The Law"

The former mill town of Lawrence, Mass., is a mere 45 minutes from downtown Boston, but worlds away from the city's gold-domed capitol and shimmering skyscrapers. The rough-and-tumble city has been in the headlines a lot recently for basically showing us what would have happened if Stringer Bell from "The Wire" had survived being ambushed and ultimately gone on to become the mayor of Baltimore.

Simply put, Mayor Willy Lantigua of Lawrence is hardcore. The first elected Hispanic mayor in Massachusetts history, he's been mainly a disappointment by any standard except the "badass" quotient. He's frequently spotted in the VIP section of grimy Lawrence clubs like Bali and The Loft - the latter recently cited by police for having "strippers in G-strings selling lap dances and dancing on an outdoor patio and in the windows — attracting crowds of gawkers on the street outside — on two successive nights."

But it hasn't been all harmless fun for Mayor Lantigua; he's under investigation for corruption for a number of incidents from the serious to the mundane. He was the victim of an assassination attempt back in April; he later criticized the police for their investigation and suggested that they were trying to frame Lantigua himself for a crime. Finally he appointed one of his boys - a sergeant -  as Deputy Chief of Police. Gangsters around the city are now known to drop Lantigua's name when cops mess with them. And as in "The Wire," race has been a major factor in all of this; the old-guard cops and firemen that Lantigua has clashed with are mainly white, while Lantigua's base is the more recently-arriving Dominican and Puerto Rican community in the city.

Termanology representing Mass.
with Celtics jacket and "The Town"
bank robbery creepy nun mask

The Honorable William Lantigua, Mayor

What does all of this have to do with music? Not much, except to establish the street cred of Lawrence, Massachusetts's answer to the post-industrial blight affecting urban areas in this country from Baltimore to Detroit. With a mayor that hardcore, any aspiring rappers have a tough act to follow.


Stepping up to the plate is Termanology, a Lawrence native of Puerto Rican extraction who has been steadily rising in the rap game for years. He got his first big break when the legendary DJ Premier produced a track for him in 2006 - the very tight "Watch How it Go Down." Since then, Term has frequently collaborated with fellow Lawrence native (and Exeter alum) Statik Selektah, including on the well-received "Stop, Look, and Listen" with Q-Tip and Styles P and "To The Top" with Cassidy and Saigon. It's been a slow and steady rise, but from where I'm sitting, Termanology looks like the top rapper out of the Bay State today. 

His new single "Uncut," released in April, finds the city's favorite son paying homage to Lawrence (watch for a shout-out to "the Law" with attendant hand sign at 0:30) while enjoying all the trappings of a successful rap career. I think that the club in the closing scene of the videos is none other than The Loft - Mayor Lantigua's favored spot - though I didn't spot him in the frame anywhere.

Politicians, rappers, and strippers - oh my! While none of this is great for the city of Lawrence, a Mayor who likes to hit the clubs is hardly the worst scandal facing the Commonwealth these days. And at least Lawrence is getting some pretty tight music out of their slow and painful decline, following in the path of Detroit rather than its less rhythmically-inclined neighbor Flint. For better or worse, Lawrence is back in the spotlight, as Termanology and Willy Lantigua alike are both very much on their grind. 

...And the living is easy

Free for the summer from the mind control programming of the Harvard Kennedy School's liberal shills, I resolve once again to pledge my Life, Fortune, and sacred Honor to the pursuit of catchiness, at least until I get bogged down with something else. The weather has finally begun to turn here in the northeast, and it's my pleasure to bring you a new track with those sweet summer sounds we've been longing for all through the finger- and soul-numbing winter.

Dirty Gold - California Sunrise


The biggest problem with this track is that the guitar intro for the first ten seconds or so sounds exactly like "Zebra" by Beach House, and that song annoys me. But once that visceral association passed, I really got into this beachy jam by two brothers and their friend straight out of San Diego. Just one listen to the seagulls squawking in the beginning of the track, and you don't need The Google to tell you that this is a band in the Cali tradition through and through. Their debut EP was just released by Autumn Tone, the record label arm of music blog Aquarium Drunkard, and their description of "shimmering beachside pop" pretty much hits the nail on the head for this trio.

This picture of the band, featuring driftwood, a hand drum, and a sweet portable keyboard, gives a better visualization of their music than even the most intrepid iTunes programmer could. There's nothing too complicated going on here - but as my fellow Concordian Henry David Thoreau always said, "Simplify!" That was a man who knew a thing or two about transforming the individual's commune with nature into art, and the spirit of Thoreau's message shines through on "California Sunrise."

It's only May 10th (happy birthday to my brother Alex in Baghdad!), but I think that I've already found my beach anthem for the summer of 2011. I'm very much looking forward to getting down to the Cape, laying down a towel, and giving "California Sunrise" a field test. Happy summer, everyone.

Alma Mater

At long last, the soundtrack to so many Princeton nights has finally been recorded for dissemination to the masses and careful study by future generations. Paul Cowgill, the pride of Munster, Indiana and a helluva college roommate, has just made his first EP "Secret Snow" available for digital purchase or to stream for free. The Cambridge, MA-based polymath has put together four brisk songs sprinkled with the deft wordplay and lyrical ingenuity one would expect from a Harvard PhD in systems biology (see: "The Right to Arm Bears"). But it's hardly all work and no play for Cowgill. His crisp guitar-and-vocals tracks evoke the carefree joys of a good jam session with your buddies on the quad - except unlike that annoying kid on your floor freshman year playing Dispatch, Cowgill is actually good at singing and guitar.

According to his Bandcamp website, the writing for these four tracks took place over four years between 2006-2010. As the four tracks only total 13 minutes and 8 seconds, that means that Cowgill devoted nearly two days of songwriting, practice, and tweaking for every second of audio recorded on the EP. Now that's attention to detail, people. 

The fruits of this labor of love, composed at a Brahms-like pace, are finally being served up for the listening public in take-out form on the website and in a sit-down venue at O'Brien's pub in Allston on May 10th. The crowd at Cowgill's last live performance - an open mic night at the Lizard Lounge in Cambridge - was so taken with him that management had to make an "Elvis has left the building"-style announcement to get us to pipe down and let the other artists meekly attempt to follow his act. 

So check out the EP online and come to the show if you're in town. Cowgill's new release is just the kind of hot off-the-presses, quality singing and songwriting that's sure to please you, your mother, and that cute girl in econ 101 alike. 

*Full disclosure: no financial considerations were made to the Pursuit of Catchiness in exchange for this plug, unless you count the time that Mr. and Mrs. Cowgill let a bunch of us stay over and bought us all burritos even though Paul wasn't in town.

The Last Great Blues Guitarist

I've always considered Stevie Ray Vaughan to be one of the greatest blues guitarists of all time. So when I turned my (no cable) TV to PBS the other day just to try my luck, I was immensely pleased to see the legend himself decked out in a turquoise kimono with a white “British invasion”-style scarf hanging loosely from his neck. I had stumbled across one of the great blues recordings of all time: Albert King and Stevie Ray Vaughan in session, for one night only.

The session took place in a Hamilton, Ontario studio in 1983 for CHCH-TV and remains the only recording of these blues icons playing together. It's an interesting hybrid of a live and a studio recording. There was no in-studio audience, but the whole session was done in a single take. Stevie and Albert hadn't rehearsed together - they didn't cross paths too often - and Stevie actually admits that he'd never even heard one of the songs they end up playing ("Ask Me No Questions"). The studio setting lends itself to a lot of banter between the musicians, and the intimacy of the session is really special.

The artists are having fun, but there’s no doubt that Stevie is absolutely zeroed-in. He's not nervous or overly serious, but he clearly recognizes the significance of the event and wants to put on a good show. King undoubtedly feels the same way, but his supreme confidence in his status as elder statesman, and his unbelievable chops (which show absolutely no signs of age) are clearly visible in his comfort onstage. A consummate showman, King is a bit more relaxed but no less impressive. The literal and figurative giant is clad in a three piece suit, and we see him variously standing up, yelling, and seemingly loving every minute of it. His name is spelled out boldly across the neck of his axe, lest anyone in the audience forget even momentarily who is the focus of attention. He also refers to his guitar at one point as a guit-fiddle, which is now the only term I will ever use for the rest of my life to refer to that particular intstrument.

Just as valuable as this lexicographical invention and the superb music the two make together is the unmistakable passing-of-the-torch quality in the session. Stevie was 31 years younger than Albert and clearly the most talented blues guitarist (guit-fiddler) of his generation. Fittingly, they duet on songs that Albert had played with the best axemen of his day: "Ask Me No Questions" was originally a duet with B.B. King, and Albert also raps on the recording about playing "Blues at Sunrise" with Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin at the Filmore West. Finally, on a track titled "Pep Talk," there's as close to an actual torch-passing ceremony as you'll ever hear between two professional musicians, as Albert exhorts Stevie to respect his craft and keep the music alive.

Albert King and Stevie Ray Vaughan - Pep Talk

Albert King and Stevie Ray Vaughan - Overall Junction

The video contains a bunch of tracks that aren’t on the accompanying audio CD, and some of the highlights are found here. My favorite is an old Stevie track, “Texas Flood.” On this slow blues jam, even with the two guitar masters stringing together dazzling improvisations, I can't help but be hypnotized by the bass in the background: as steady, fundamental, and utterly essential as a heartbeat

Tragically, both artists would be dead within ten years - with King actually outliving Stevie, who died in a helicopter accident in 1990. Stevie's death left his generation of "young" blues guitarists (and even he would be 56 if he were alive today) with no heir apparent or even an heir faintly visible. And if one is to rise up, he'd better make himself known quickly. Perhaps no genre of modern music has relied so heavily on the transmission of its secrets from one generation to another than the blues, owing to its origins in African musical traditions and the circumstances of its development in the segregated and poverty-stricken Deep South. Every generation of blues guitarists has prepared the next for greatness, but unless Clapton has some protégé that he’s just biding his time before unleashing on society, it seems like that chain may be broken.

Jazz will go on, you figure. The innovation that has continuously reshaped the sound of jazz leaves the door open for development in any number of directions for years to come, and an iconic artist could step up and grab the mantle. But blues is tougher. At the end of the day, the 12-bar form (or some very similar offshoot) is the rule. The chord progressions are more or less set in stone. A blues player makes his whole living off the 6 notes of the blues scale (albeit with abundant note-bending in every direction). With so many greats having come and gone, how much more could there be to add to the picture? The previous generation, furthermore, lived such an authentic blues experience, really growing up in the Mississippi Delta and that distinct and uniquely American culture.

Of course, besides his abundant skills, Stevie also more-or-less singlehandedly moved blues music into the post-racial era. Can white people really play the blues? Ever since Stevie, the answer has been a resounding yes. He just put an end to that argument. Even a great player like Clapton hadn’t totally settled the matter, as his greatest accomplishments were more in blues-rock and straight rock groups like Cream and Derek & the Dominoes than in the blues. But was the first indisputably masterful white blues guitarist also potentially the last great guitarist of any color? Unfortunately, I tend to think so. I have no evidence for this claim, just a sinking pessimistic sense that the best days of that genre are well behind us.

If that’s the case, it’s a sad thing. But it’s not as bad as it may seem; the greats that came before have left an abundance of material that one could fill a lifetime enjoying and analyzing (it reminds me of this article by sabetmetrics god Bill James in Slate arguing that we don’t produce more great literary geniuses because we don’t really need them anymore). Nowhere is that legacy of musical brilliance, with merit to last through the ages, more evident than in this classic 1983 recording. If Stevie Ray Vaughan was the last great blues guitarist, at least the genre went out on top.  

Bob Marley and The Stranglers

My only complaint about "Hey Sparrow" from Peaking Lights is that it's too damn short. There's nothing more disappointing than hearing a song, deciding you like it a couple of minutes in, and then seeing that there's only another minute or so left before it's over. It's the musical equivalent of pouring yourself a heaping bowl of delicious cereal only to lift the milk carton and discover - gasp - it's too light! With its entrancingly subtle dub rhythms, delicate keys, and "groove-wave" guitar, "Hey Sparrow" puts the jam on your breakfast toast and will leave you wanting seconds.

Peaking Lights - Hey Sparrow

After considerable thought, I can best describe this track as Bob Marley's "Natural Mystic" crossed with "Golden Brown" by The Stranglers. In my musical world, that is a serious compliment. Peaking Lights have been called "post-reggae," and other tracks on their new record 936 do indeed show a heavy dubstep influence. Combining an uncanny number of instrumental tracks for a two-person outfit, they spin a multilayered musical web that sneaks up on the listener and, before you know it, ensnares you utterly. 

I got tipped off to this excellent record by a pretty glowing review on Altered Zones; they have a couple of other tracks from 936 up on their site as well. Leave it to a married couple from Wisconsin, recording out of Los Angeles, to put together the first great record of spring 2011 (morning temperature in Cambridge today: 26 degrees). With superior instrumentation and some beautiful vocals, Peaking Lights are warming things up for all of us with a sound that defies easy classification, but definitely deserves to be in the rotation this spring training. 

Le Chanson Fait La Force

Jean-Bertrand Aristide returned to Haiti this week from exile in the Central African Republic and South Africa accompanied by a number of political and entertainment figures from around the world. While I have no interest in getting into questions of Haitian politics, I do think it's pretty hilarious that traveling in the company of Danny Glover, an actor known best for playing crotchety veteran Murtough in the Lethal Weapon series 25 years ago, is considered a mark of distinction in the developing world.

Another Aristide supporter is of greater interest to me at the moment though: legendary Haitian singer/songwriter Manno Charlemagne. He's been called "the Bob Marley of Haiti" and any of a number of other superlatives. It's pretty hard to compete with this snippet from Manno's MySpace biography, so just give this a read and you'll get a sense of the esteem in which the artist is held by his fans:

"A soulful yet brazen balladeer, Manno for decades used his acoustic guitar and tender baritone voice as weapons against the brutal Duvalier regime and civilized indifference of Haiti's insulated upper class. A skinny, poor rebel from the slums, he was the little black fly in a cold glass of milk.

Born in 1948, he slipped out of his mother's womb with a clenched fist thrust up in the air; his birthsong was defiance. He picked up his first guitar as a teenager and has been playing, singing and writing songs ever since. In the classic troubadour tradition, he is a teller of truth who disguises his profoundly political messages by placing them inside hauntingly beautiful melodies. Similar to the storytelling traditions of the African griots who passed their history down through the generations from mouth to ear, Manno's protest songs with their caustic lyrics and gentle rhythms documented centuries of abuse suffered by the peasant class in Haiti, and captured the rawness of life in this black republic."

I caught a riveting program on CCTV documenting Aristide's return to Port-au-Prince, and the rabid passion with which his supporters greeted him bordered on the frightening. Part of the broadcast was set to Manno, a longtime Aristide backer and himself the Mayor of the capital city during Aristide's second term. I was moved to share some of his beautiful playing, and it is strictly for the aesthetic value of the music, and with no political implications one way or another, that I offer it up for your listening pleasure. My French Creole isn't really up to par these days anyway, so I can't make out much of what he's saying - though it has clearly not pleased any number of rulers in Haiti's troubled history.

In a country where two of the leading candidates for President were singers (Wyclef and Michel Martelly), listening to Manno and others is a reminder of the power of music to move people and hearkens back to a political tradition in music that has been sadly on the decline in our own country. Au fin en Haïti, peut-être que ça n'est pas l'union qui fait la force - c'est le chanson.

Manno Charlemagne - La Fimen (The Smoke)

Good Morning Vietnam

Check out this surprisingly uplifting track from Saigon's long-delayed and highly anticipated debut (!) studio album. It's hard to believe that the rapper who was introduced to much of the listening public through Turtle on Entourage back in 2005 has only now gotten his act together enough to release this much-hyped record. "Clap" is the first track I've heard off the album, which came out just after Valentine's Day, and I've been digging its triumphantly bouncy beat, perhaps a reflection of the artist's own joy at finally getting his music out there for the world to hear.

The song was produced by Just Blaze, who delivers a solid track. Of course, he's working with some great source material: Lamont Dozier's 1976 baby-making anthem "Let Me Make Love to You" is heavily sampled. The swelling strings and keys are also reminiscent of some more recent hip-hop offerings: Young Jeezy's "Go Crazy" (prod. by DJ Cannon) and Kanye's "Touch the Sky," both of which are themselves built around '70s samples from soul god Curtis Mayfield.

Obviously the use of a '70s sample and a showy R&B chorus isn't exactly uncharted territory in hip-hop production. That said, having the Notorious B.I.G.'s widow Faith Evans sing your choruses is a pretty legit way for a Brooklyn rapper to establish his street cred (Saigon is not actually from Ho Chi Minh City, but from a war zone of a different sort known as Brownsville). Gospel influences shine throughout (the singer's name is Faith, after all), and I'm pretty sure I even heard a "hallelujah" in there somewhere.

Saigon - Clap


I haven't heard the whole album, but my sense is that the positivity found on "Clap" isn't necessarily the record's dominant theme - not that surprising for a guy whose album release was delayed for 6 years by a variety of incidents including weapons charges (a knife) and getting stabbed in the head (gotta watch out for those knives). Still, this is a great track to lead with, if for nothing more than the catharsis it expresses at the release of an album that was a long time coming. Dig it.

Oscars the Grouch

The Oscars are stupid and I'm embarrassed that I watched some of the show yesterday. I had been planning on boycotting because of the sheer idiocy of not nominating Christopher Nolan as Best Director for Inception; whatever you thought of the movie, he should have won that award hands-down. To be totally fair, I haven't seen The King's Speech, so I just can't say if that deserved to beat out a pretty high-quality field. But I saw 8/10 of last year's nominees, and I thought that Hurt Locker was the second-worst of all those that I saw (better only than Up in the Air, which is just a crappy movie that sucks).

With some historical perspective, however, it is clear enough that the category has always had its problems. After all, Godfather III was nominated in 1990, Rocky beat out Taxi Driver in 1976, and Apocalypse Now somehow lost to Kramer vs. Kramer in 1979, the only explanation for which being that the voters were coked out of their skulls.

But enough of this talk about the moving pictures; what about the music? I would have liked to see a classical composer take home the Oscar for Best Original Score, if only because that's one of the rare venues that contemporary classical composers have for making a name for themselves (not to mention a few bucks). One might think that the Academy was swayed by Trent Reznor's personal celebrity in selecting The Social Network over great offerings from composing stalwarts Hans Zimmer and John Powell, but everybody knows that Oscar voters are immune to public pressure and hype, so that couldn't be the case.

Speaking of soundtracks, here's a piece from a Glaswegian band called Dam Mantle. I know nothing about them, but this track I first heard on Gorilla vs. Bear is nothing if not theatrical. Right around the 3:45 mark reminds me of that part in Homeward Bound when Shadow reunites with Peter after surviving his fall into the pit by the train tracks and everybody watching the movie has a good cry. But I digress. Anyway, enjoy the song.

Dam Mantle - Movement

Sounds of Summer

For guys of my generation, no movie conjures up semi-fictionalized memories of childhood quite like The Sandlot. A coming-of-age classic, The Sandlot uses the prism of the American pastime to hearken back to a highly idealized America - the summer of 1962 minus the racial tension and the impending danger of nuclear holocaust. That notwithstanding, the story of Scotty Smalls's struggle to make friends in a new town and the legend of future MLB benchwarmer Benny "The Jet" Rodriguez makes for a timeless look at American pre-adolescence and, as Roger Ebert put it, "its memories of what really matters when you are 12." 

As I re-watched The Sandlot for the 406th time last night, I was also struck by the quality of its period soundtrack. In terms of both era-defining songs and pure musical value, I'd have to put The Sandlot right up there with Forrest Gump in the all-time movie soundtracks Hall of Fame (other first-ballot HOFers: The Big Chill, Saturday Night Fever, Superfly, Pulp Fiction). Here's the tracklist:

1. Hank Ballard and the Midnighters - "Finger Poppin' Time"
2. Bill Black's Combo - "Smokie Part II"
3. The Tokens - "The Lion Sleeps Tonight"
4. The Drifters - "There Goes My Baby"
5. The Drifters - "This Magic Moment"
6. Ray Charles - "America the Beautiful"
7. Booker T and the MGs - "Green Onions"

8.The Champs - "Tequila"
9. The Surfaris - "Wipeout"

It's not just the quality of the music itself, but the situational usage of the songs that really knocks this soundtrack out of the colloquial park. I challenge anyone to find a better pairing of music and scene in film history than The Champs' "Tequila" providing the backdrop for the great Chewing Tobacco - Amusement Park Disaster of '62.

Except, perhaps, for another song-scene pairing from maybe the best-remembered scene of Sandlot: the day at the pool. Squints's unlikely steal of first base with Wendy Peffercorn undoubtedly inspired countless ill-advised attempts at replicating his legendary achievement; champions are often imitated, but rarely duplicated. I can't put it any better than Scotty Smalls did, so I won't even try. Just listen to the sweet sounds of Ben E. King and the Drifters and be transported back to a time when behind every fence was a Beast, every busted baseball was an omen, and the game would go on as long as fireworks lit up the summer sky.

Ben E. King and the Drifters - This Magic Moment


Michael "Squints" Palledorous walked a little taller that day. And we had to tip our hats to him. He was lucky she hadn't beat the crap out of him. We wouldn't have blamed her. What he'd done was sneaky, rotten, and low... and cool. Not another one among us would have ever in a million years even for a million dollars have had the guts to put the moves on the lifeguard. He did. He had kissed a woman. And he had kissed her long and good. We got banned from the pool forever that day. But every time we walked by after that, the lifeguard looked down from her tower, right over at Squints, and smiled.

The Best Rapper Ever

The debate over who is the best rapper ever really isn't a debate at all. It's just a lot of people bringing their opinions to the table and making the case for their guy without seriously considering any alternatives. Actually, that sounds a lot like political debate.

In the musical context at least, there's nothing fundamentally wrong with this, and the debate breaks down in some distinct ways. The usual suspects get a predictable amount of support: Biggie, 2Pac, Jay-Z. Underground breakthrough favorites like Talib Kweli and Mos Def have their advocates. Hip-hop heads of a certain age, like my 9th-grade history teacher Jose, will insist that KRS-One or Rakim were the greatest MCs of all time and that all rappers who came after are just pretenders to the throne. Lots of Puerto Ricans will argue that Big Pun is the best, and white boys will throw Eminem's name in the ring. Plenty of young kids these days will say Lil Wayne.

There are good arguments to be made for all these rappers, but those aren't the arguments that interest me so much. I'm more interested in the arguments over a particular class of rappers, those whose supporters make up for their modest numbers with their outsize passion and dedication. Some lesser-known MCs with such a hard core of dedicated fans include Del the Funky Homosapien, Canibus, MF Doom, Immortal Technique, and Papoose. My unequivocal favorite rapper of all time falls squarely in this category: the late, great Big L.

This Tuesday marked the 12th anniversary of Lamont "Big L" Coleman's murder in his Harlem neighborhood. At the time of his death he had only released one album, 1995's seminal Lifestylez ov da Poor & Dangerous. Lifestylez is a difficult album to categorize. The opening track, "Put it On," is characteristic of the punchlines and multisyllabic rhyme schemes that would become his hallmark; that almost playful sensibility is also on display in "MVP" and "Let 'em Have It, 'L.'" The album suffers from generally terrible production: the beats scream mid-90s tackiness as surely as ripped baggy t-shirts or Mark-Paul Gosselaar. But it's not enough to obscure L's lyrical mastery, as evidenced by lines like, "no other rapper writes rhymes like these/ I'm cool as a light breeze/ I'm playing rappers out like strike threes."

Big L - Let 'em Have It, 'L'


Lifestylez also contains several tracks that may be the best "horrorcore" ever recorded. Tracks like "Danger Zone" and "Lifestylez ov da Poor & Dangerous" are masterpieces of the genre, and so explicit that I've opted not to post any of those songs directly on the blog in case I ever run for office or otherwise seek employment in respectable society. Yet even in those nightmarish tracks, L doesn't lose his wit or take himself too seriously: "I've got styles you can't copy b----/ it's the triple six in the mix/ straight from h-e-double hockey sticks." H-e-double hockey sticks?? How bad a guy could he be?

 While Lifestylez ov da Poor & Dangerous established Big L firmly in the underground rap scene, he was poised to explode onto the scene with 2000's The Big Picture, which was nearing completion at the time of his death. L had changed labels and was getting steady airplay for "Ebonics," the lead single off The Big Picture and a radio favorite back when people still listened to the radio.

When the album finally did come out, it didn't disappoint. Its opening track may be my single favorite hip-hop recording of all time: "The Big Picture (Intro)." It starts with an excerpt from Gang Starr's performance of "Full Clip" at a Big L tribute concert, and the song's dedication to Big L on the studio version has ensured that his name lives on over a classic Premo track. DJ Premier then cuts in with a legendary beat, and Big L finally starts rapping and absolutely rips the track to shreds. "What's this mf'ing rap game without L?/ Yo that's like jewels without ice/ that's like China without rice/ or the Holy Bible without Christ/ or the Bulls without Mike/ or crackheads without pipes..."

Big L - The Big Picture (Intro)


The first half of The Big Picture holds several more gems. "Size 'Em Up" backs Big L's high-intensity delivery with an equally explosive beat, creating the perfect tableau on which to work his multisyllabic magic. It is not unusual for his raps on this track and several others on the album to have four- or five-syllable rhymes at the end of each line; most rappers rhyme one or two syllables at most. For example: "MCs I squash and disgrace/ it's all about the Benjies/ so why your bills got Washington's face?" "Deadly Combination" with 2Pac is a classic too, and "98 Freestyle" shows Big L at his best, just rhyming and wowing the in-studio audience.

Big L - Size 'Em Up


Some of the later tracks in The Big Picture suffer from lack of actual Big L material and try to substitute guest verses or over-production to compensate. But other tracks show L leaving behind the punchlines and battle raps and demonstrating mastery of another rap style: storytelling. "The Heist" and "Casualties of a Dice Game" are straight narratives, breathless and innovative. When necessary for rhyming purposes, he doesn't shy from using decidedly un-gangsta words like "dames," "hasty," and "well-writ", or even inventing words like "crimey" (def.: a criminal associate; used for an internal rhyme with "grimy").

Some celebrities' careers probably benefited from their untimely deaths; imagine how depressing it would be to see Stevie Ray Vaughn headlining at Foxwoods or Jimi Hendrix playing the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland for the benefit of the corporate sponsors. But Big L was very much the opposite. Clearly ascendant, and at the top of his craft, he was ultimately a victim of the violent street culture that ironically was the force behind his creative output.

There are arguments against anointing such a short-lived artist as the greatest rapper of all time, and they're frequently heard around the discussion of Biggie as well. To take an analogy, if a baseball player came in and played two seasons, hit .410, and had 75 homers each year, but then died or retired, could you legitimately call him the greatest baseball player ever? Well, it's my blog, and I say yes. Big L did what he could in the life that he had, dropping two unbelievable albums, and making the most of every track he was on. Sure, it's a shame that more people don't know his name. But for those who do know it, and know it well, there's really no question that he was the greatest of all time.

Best Rapper Alive

Given all the terrible tragedies in the news in 2010, I was surprised how touched I was on a human level by this little tidbit about Lil Wayne's time in Riker's Island. No music allowed? Where's the Eighth Amendment when you need it? The thought of poor Wayne having his iPod torn away from him by some Percy Wetmore wannabe tugged at my heartstrings as I counted down the days until Weezy's enigmatic middle initial "F" would finally stand for freedom. Wrongly incarcerated for merely exercising his Constitutionally guaranteed right to bear arms, the Best Rapper Alive walking out of prison like a modern Mandela was cause for celebration for music fans and Second Amendment enthusiasts alike.

The title "Best Rapper Alive" shouldn't be handed out lightly, and it is with some trepidation that I rank Lil Wayne above Nas, a true icon and the man responsible for arguably the greatest rap album ever (Illmatic). For the record, my top five rappers of all time is as follows:

1. Big L 

2. Notorious B.I.G.

3. Lil Wayne

4. Nas

5. Jay-Z 

Nas gets bumped below Lil Wayne for, in my mind, releasing a slew of sub-par albums after Illmatic (see: Nastradamus, I Am..., Street's Disciple), notwithstanding a recent flurry of strong singles. 

In any case, the man of the hour is Lil Wayne. Not since Big L has a rapper kept you hanging on his every word and wondering where he'll go next, whether through the deftest of wordplay or outlandish statements like his repeated proclamations that he is in fact an alien. In a genre like hip-hop, where a lot of stuff can sound the same, Weezy scores major points for his unbelievable creativity and the sheer range of sounds that he's tried out. Not everything works - his rock album, Rebirth, was a disaster - but he gets points for effort, and even that flameout featured must-listen single "Drop the World." 

Now with Wayne a free man and Tha Carter IV tentatively scheduled for an April release, Weezy has unleashed a new single to show the world he's still the boss. I doubt I'm the first person to observe that "Six Foot Seven Foot," with its sample of "Day-Oh" and lack of a hook, bears a striking resemblance to "A Milli." But then again, "A Milli" was awesome, and "Six Foot Seven Foot" shows that Wayne didn't lose a step in prison, and maybe even regained some of the passion for rhyming that made 2008's Tha Carter III such fire.

Lil Wayne - Six Foot Seven Foot

The track from start to finish is quintessential Lil Wayne - braggadocio, turns of phrase, and puns that take a second or two to compute before you crack up laughing. The line "real g's move in silence like lasagna" alone puts the lie to anybody who would dare suggest that Wayne had fallen off. The track's only real weakness is the inclusion of Corey Gunz, son of one-hit '90s rapper Peter Gunz. Corey Gunz riding his father's dubious coattails to a record deal is a bit like Ben Quayle leveraging his father's Vice Presidential legacy to get into Congress.

Lil Wayne has more or less singlehandedly saved hip-hop from a pretty weak time, and laid the groundwork for other ultra-weird rhymers like Earl Sweatshirt and Tyler the Creator of the Odd Future family to get some of their stuff out there. Rap would be in a sorry place right now if it wasn't for Lil Wayne; instead, if "Six Foot Seven Foot" is anything to judge by, we could be in line for another classic when Tha Carter IV leaks in its entirety (why even bother talking about its actual release date?) and gives us another piece of Wayne's extraterrestrial mind.  

London Underground

While it may not be Beatlemania, an unbelievable amount of hype has surrounded British electronic composer James Blake over the last year or so. A lot of that is a credit to his impressive work ethic: Blake put out three EPs on vinyl in 2010 alone. He's finally ready to put out a full-length album - scheduled for release on February 7th - and the world wide internet tubes have been jammed with Blake's new material and a couple of awesome videos for lead single "Wilhelm Scream."

I've gone ahead and posted both studio and live videos for the track because I think they both bring something different to our understanding of the song. The studio version, with its minimalist beat and Blake looking right into the camera, reminds me of D'Angelo with a little less melanin and a lot more clothing. The hazy cinematography, which becomes fuzzier as the song progresses, mirrors the singer's own confusion as reflected in the lyrics and the increasingly complex musical effects he uses.



I love this live video from Blake's set at BBC Radio 1. The first thing that I find so appealing is that we don't usually experience music like this in a live setting. Blake is really an electronic artist, and while electronic artists obviously have live shows, it's unusual for a live electronic performance to hew as closely to the studio version as this one does. The video also gives a great look at the syncopated drumming, especially on the snare, which is what gives this track its uniquely unsettled rhythm.



This is good stuff. Now normally I don't purchase British goods, because I still believe Pakenham cheated us out of what was rightfully ours in 1846 (fifty-four forty or fight!). But I think I'll make an exception in this case - Blake's self-titled LP promises to be one of the most creative and listenable albums of early 2011. Jolly good indeed.

Get an Education

The arts are alive and well in America's public schools. How do I know? Witness this priceless video from PS22 in Staten Island, birthplace of my wife and three out of seven original cast members of the Jersey Shore. These cute little guys do quite a cover of Ariel Pink's "Round and Round," my #3 song of 2010. This is America, people, and the President says these kids are going to win us the future one day. If the PS22 chorus is any indication, the future looks mighty bright indeed.



While I'm on this positive educational note, check out this documentary from 2006 that I happened to catch on Cambridge Community Television (CCTV9) last night. It's a very thought-provoking and challenging look at misogyny, homophobia, masculinity, and race in hip-hop. Oh, the things you watch when you don't have cable. See rappers like Mos Def and Busta Rhymes squirm as filmmaker Byron Hurt tries to get them to discuss the unfortunate and oft-overlooked prevalence of these destructive themes in hip-hop culture. The film was an eye-opening and sobering reminder for me as a fan of some of the social consequences of music that I love to listen to, and it's definitely given me something to thing about until they air a documentary next week on consumerism and the environment or the dangers of genetically modified food. Fight the power!

From Russia With Love

From the untamed, murky depths of the internet, I bring you a wondrous and unique pearl. Meet Alexander Goryachev, nom de guerre "813", a Russian superagent armed to the teeth with grimy beats and scouring the planet in pursuit of the secrets of rhythm. First exposed by an Estonian operative, 813 came to my attention with "Asia," a beat so dirty it could be condemned. This track should be considered armed and dangerous, and has undoubtedly had listeners begging for mercy from Moscow to Tallinn.

813 - Asia by Eight One Three

Next is the much more upbeat (and ambiguously named) "purpur way." Reminiscent perhaps of Passion Pit at their best, "purpur way" sounds like what might happen if Mega Man quit battling Robot Lords and tried his hand at DJing. 813 revealed through his SoundCloud that the track in fact contains a sample from another timeless classic, Street Fighter.

813 - purpur way by Eight One Three

I'll be keeping 813 under close surveillance from now on. He is clearly in possession of highly explosive material and has demonstrated that his operation is transnational in nature. I'd advise all readers to remain on high alert - there's no telling where 813 will pop up next.

Keep Shelly in Athens

Check out this new track from Greek duo Keep Shelly in Athens, courtesy of Gorilla vs. Bear. The first single I heard from this group was last year's "Fokionos Negri Street," a straight instrumental jam that's heavy on the keyboard grooves. The new single "Hauntin' Me," due out next month, is very different but similarly entrancing. The vocals are striking enough to compete with the powerful, multilayered musical backing; the track has a minor identity crisis, but that tension fosters a sense of unpredictability in the song that really makes it worth a listen. Around the 2:30 mark I hear echoes of Ray Manzarek, and that psychedelic influence takes this track to the next level.

Keep Shelly in Athens - Hauntin' Me


And previously: Keep Shelly in Athens - Fokionos Negri Street (2010)


CONCERT NOTE!!! The Radio Dept., proud owners of the prestigious Pursuit of Catchiness #1 Song of 2010, are performing at the Middle East in Cambridge on February 4th. Oh yes.

The Doctor Is In

I was too busy with the Countdown to comment on the new Girl Talk album when it came out back in November. The consensus seems to be overwhelmingly positive, and I think All Day is his best work yet. The mash-up genre is a tricky one. When it goes well, it can throw a whole new light on some already beloved songs. It’s like hearing them for the first time all over again. But when it doesn’t come off right, it just sounds like I have one song playing in my bedroom and another in the kitchen while I’m standing in the hallway. 

There are a lot of inspired moments of mash-up synergy on All Day. The combination of Nicki Minaj and the music from “Don’t Fear The Reaper” on “Steady Shock” is almost awesome enough to make Nicki Minaj tolerable. Notorious B.I.G. and Cream mashed up on “On and On” is pretty priceless too, and Big Boi’s verse from “Shutterbug," featured on "Jump On Stage," would sound good over just about anything.

My favorite moment on the album comes courtesy of Lukasz Gottwald, better known as Dr. Luke. Whether you realize it or not, you are very familiar with Dr. Luke’s body of work. He is the evil genius responsible for some of the biggest stuck-in-your-head-and-can’t-get-them-out hits of the last five years. Taio Cruz’s “Dynamite,” Katy Perry’s “California Gurls,” Kelly Clarkson’s “Since You’ve Been Gone,” and Miley Cyrus’s “Party in the U.S.A.” are all his handiwork, among many other huge hits.

In a less civilized time, a seducer like Dr. Luke might have been burned at the stake as a warlock. But there’s more to the good doctor than the ability to surgically implant pop hooks into the deepest reaches of your amygdalae. Before selling his soul to the devil in exchange for the power to make teenage girls dance, Dr. Luke was involved in the production some of the best underground hip-hop of the last 15 years. He was connected with Rawkus Records during that label’s golden age, and had a hand in some pretty groundbreaking work by Mos Def, Talib Kweli, and KRS-One. 

Black Star - Respiration (Dr Luke Remix - 1999)

KRS One, Zack De La Rocha, and the Last Emperor - C. Ia. (2000)


Dr. Luke’s hip-hop sensibility is in full effect on "That's Right." On the track, Girl Talk takes the two elements of Luke’s professional persona - the pop and the rap - and unites them in a moment of sublime syzygy. At the 4:00 mark, the unmistakably infectious opening to “Party in the U.S.A.” rings out – accompanied by the full-speed-ahead stylings of Brooklyn rappers M.O.P. The high energy and all-around sweetness of the mash-up makes you wish Dr. Luke would go back into private practice with a more discriminating set of clients, and let Britney and Kelly Clarkson seek treatment elsewhere. 

Girl Talk - That's Right

It says a lot about the trajectory of pop music over the last decade or so that the undisputed god of pop music is, fundamentally, a hip-hop producer. And while Kelly Clarkson isn't really my cup of tea, I certainly think there is a healthy space in the world of music for a song like Taio Cruz's "Dynamite," scientifically proven to get the party jumping. Like it or not, Dr. Luke’s two spoonfuls of sugar help his medicine go down smooth every time.

Yea Yeah

For a solid six-month period when I lived in Jerusalem, I made sure to have "Daylight" by Matt & Kim playing on my iPod whenever I stepped out into the sun on the way to work. Even that relatively simple joyfest of a track was somewhat more complex than my original Matt & Kim favorite, "Yea Yeah" from their 2006 self-titled debut. Nothing but synth, drums, and yelling, "Yea Yeah" and songs of its ilk were straight party jams. When their unpolished sound rocked the walls of the Terrace F. Club back in March 2007, I knew it wouldn't be long before they hit it big.

Fast-forward to 2009's Grand, and my beloved "Daylight" was showing up in commercials before reruns of Everybody Loves Raymond. The indie rock halls of Brooklyn, it seemed, weren't so far from Madison Avenue after all. But I don't blame Matt & Kim (or Grizzly Bear, or Arcade Fire) for "selling out" - we consumers don't leave them much choice when the average single is illegally downloaded 8 times for every legitimate sale.

Besides, even a super-slick Bacardi commercial couldn't take the edge off of Matt & Kim. "Red Paint," the second single from their November 2010 album Sidewalks, shows that the band haven't let success get to their head. Their music is still all about celebrating the good life, and Matt's childlike inflection evokes the simple pleasures of youth in every earnestly belted note. They throw caution to the wind, and like a boomerang it comes back loaded up with bouncy synth lines and choruses that you don't sing along with - you yell.

Matt and Kim - Red Paint


Matt and Kim are living the dream - a boyfriend-girlfriend couple who achieved legitimate musical success basically by building up a following on MySpace and sticking with their independent label. As the good times keep rolling, they've blessed us with another jam for the soundtrack to the lives we wish we had. Turn it up and yell along.