Little Brother : The Way You Do It (Captain Planet Remix)
this here’s a Captain’s Crate exclusive

Little Brother : The Becoming
taken from the album “The Minstrel Show” on Atlantic (2005)

Long before I started scrutinizing the periphery of pop culture in search of forgotten gems and original source material, prior to my developing a powerful appreciation for all things funky and foreign (or even knowing that those things existed), I was a hip hop head. I was aware of other kinds of music and was generally open about the vastness of my ignorance, but hip hop music provided the fuel that burned in breakbeats and drove me to my current state of musical obsession. Within hip hop’s layers of samples I began my digging outward and backwards in time. And honestly, not being a musical prodigy by any means, it was the do-it-from-scratch formula to hip hop music that made me imagine I could have any type of future in music making at all.

Which brings me to Little Brother. The self-proclaimed younger sibling to all of those great names (Tribe, De La, JB’s, Pete Rock…just scratching the surface) that played in my walkman and served as the fodder for my formative mixtapes. I don’t want to say much for fear that I’ll dive way out into the deep end of an olympic-sized pool of cheez whiz (which I may already have done), but it’s a very rare thing these days when I am truly excited about a hip hop album and will continue listening to it in its entirety- and will continue to be blown away by it! The Minstrel Show accomplished this feat. The Listening did too. Haters say that they’re not doing anything new, but doesn’t rock solid soulful consistency stand for something in an over-flooded market-driven galaxy of wack fools? And yes, I thank god for The Roots, Outkast, Missy, Common, Kanye (slightly wincing about that last one), but 50 still outsells them, and drops a book, and makes a film that is “based on fact” just enough to actually really mess with millions of kid’s heads (I’m an ex-public school teacher, not a republican). If hip hop is alive and healthy, then why does 90% of hip hop radio sound so fake? And if you actually believe the shiz they’re saying, you’re definitely getting duped. [Have to admit here that I still listen to and enjoy the radio, I still dance to 50, and I’m generally entertained by the videos that I see on BET]. I don’t want to be a hater myself, my point is more to bring attention to the underdog [no 50, not you]. I just want to see a little more balance, that’s all.

Flick a fat middle finger in the face of the countless record execs and industry cronies [excluding the good people at Atlantic who hopefully won’t drop LB after this album] who put less faith in the listening public than I do in my four-year-old brother, and help this album go platinum. ‘Cause right now, it ain’t. As for the remix, I made this beat for another song which hasn’t been recorded yet (Chinaka, where you at?), and with minor tinkering it fit quite nicely over an accapella from The Listening. Not trying to outdo 9th or nothing, just putting a crispy clean (and nostalgic like WHAT?!) spin on it. Hope you enjoy it. And try not to get weirded out if you hear a similar beat with different vocals on it down the road…

Also, I’m heading down to Puerto Rico next weekend for the Candela Music Festival. I’m real excited to be spinning alongside cats like Quantic, Bobbito, Rich Medina, Garth Trinidad, Nickodemus… but don’t expect a post from me for a minute.

Lady Sovereign: Random and Chi Ching and 9 to 5
Taken from one bootleg download (2005) and two 12″ singles on Island (2005), respectively

I remember driving to work one morning last January. I was groggy and hungry and less than thrilled to be sacrificing another precious day of my life to the cause of a t-shirt slinging quasi-kiddie-pornographer. Just before I pulled into the company parking lot a song came on the radio: it was like a stripped down, beat-up dancehall joint. It straight thumped. It also sounded like it had been recorded in a dumpster with discarded kitchenware for instruments. Then there was the driving, urging tone; the unmistakably British voice, plowing through, stomping on, singing, rapping, squealing over the roll of the track. When the filtered, tinny chorus finally hit, I was sold: “Sunshowers…” I sat in my car and listened and when the track ended I turned the radio off and went to work. But I couldn’t get the song out of my head.

Within a few months of that day, M.I.A. blew the f up. She has since appeared on at least a dozen major magazine covers, sold out shows across the country, cut a track with Missy Elliot, and has recently signed on to open for Gwen Stefani in what will be probably be one of the biggest U.S. stadium tours this fall.

Last night after the show in Hollywood, my friend Ben, who had only discovered M.I.A a couple months back, looked visably shaken. “Where did she come from?” He just couldn’t wrap his mind around it. The show last night was that good. People filed dumbstruck out of the theatre, shaking their heads. I’ll keep it simple. If you don’t know, now you know: BUY HER ALBUM. SEE HER LIVE. It’s like watching an ’87 Chuck D on speed, in a hundred pound female frame, rapping all Brit-stylee over booty bass beats. WORD!!!

I’m not posting M.I.A. tracks. For one, you’ve probably heard ’em already (if you haven’t, The O.C. (I refuse to link The O.C. on moral grounds) is featuring her in few days–yeah, she’s that big). And if not, you better just by the whole damn lot of them. ‘Cause I’m not gonna start ripping apart the album.

What I will give you is a taste of some very interesting competition. Lady Sovereign is 19 (!#@$!!), also British, white, and perhaps the rawest female rap vocalist I’ve heard since Jean Grae. But unlike Grae, who brings her brilliant lyrics over a rather predictable framework of straightforward hip hop beats, the S.O.V. brings her fire over whateva. Dub-stepper jams, garage bombs, straight grime. And she kills ish every time. Plus, she’s got that uncanny gift for stunningly fresh hooks. Hear this: this girl is going to be big. Maybe not M.I.A big, but big nonetheless.

She busted out like what! as one of a handful of artists featured on the Run the Road compilation that dropped seven or eight months ago. She’s sharp as a tack, lyrically versatile and can drop a battle rap like I ain’t heard in a minute. Rumor has it she’s hitting the States this winter. Could be the next British Invasion… stay posted.

Timmy Thomas : Why Can’t We Live Together and Rainbow Power
taken from the album “Why Can’t We Live Together” on Glades (1972)

Darker Than Blue: Soul From Jamdown happens to be one of my all-time favorite compilations (look to the last post if you’re confused). It has all the right elements- superb soul songs, done in cover version (which always adds a point of interest for me), and all the selections (big up to Mark Ainley & Steve Barrow) had barely seen the light of day prior to re-release. Don’t hesitate if you see that album, splurge, and buy an extra copy to give to the person you choose to marry. My post is related as follows, Tinga Stewart’s extended disco version of “Why Can’t We Live Together” appears on the comp that I’ve just been exalting. I’m not giving it to you because the OG really stands in a league of it’s own. Sade did a cover version too on her “Diamond Life” album, but you don’t need me to give you that one either.

The album is simply Timmy and his organ. No frills, no backup, no production know-how. With the possible exception that he knew how to freak the organ drum machine like no one I’ve heard since. There’s also that moment in “Rainbow Power” when he takes his hands off the keys to clap, that gets me good. RAWness. The LP plays like a jawdroppingly powerful demo reel from a guy who’s about to blow up. But Timmy never really did blow up. His story leaves much to the imagination for those of us on the outside. I’m left wondering if there exists in his basement some stack of un-released recordings that Timmy made during lonely, dreamy hours that passed with as much potency as the moments which produced this bit of genius. I’m thinking there must be. A profoundly simple and piercing sound like his doesn’t slip away in the night. If Syl painfully presents the problem, Timmy proclaims the solution: “Rainbow Power”. Nuff said.

Gotta give respects to Pandamonium Jones for introducing me to Timmy via “Funky Me” 45 – I feel like you were mixing it with some crazy 60’s pop record at the time?

Syl Johnson: Is It Because I’m Black
Taken from the album “Is It Because I’m Black?” on Twinight (1970)

Ken Boothe: Is It Because I’m Black
Taken from the album “Darker Than Blue: Soul From Jamdown” on Blood and Fire (2001)

Daz-I-Cue: Bloodfire
Taken from the 12″ “Bloodfire” on a blacklable (2005)

Wu-Tang Clan: Hollow Bones
Taken from the album “The W” on Loud (2000)

I woke up yesterday morning to a ringing phone. Still half-asleep, I answered. “Is this Wil?” “Yes.” “You’ve won $25 gift certificate to Aaron’s Records. Come by to pick it up whenever you want.” I think I may have squealed though I’m not sure because the overwhelming joy nearly blacked me out. It may not seem like much, but when youse broke as me, twenty five bucks seems like a thousand. Still in my pajamas, I jumped in my car and headed into Hollywood.

Long before the L.A. branch of Amoeba Records cast its long, dark shadow over every struggling vinyl playground within five hundred miles, a little mom and pop store on Highland Avenue reigned supreme. Back then Aaron’s Records was the place to be. Forty years after opening they’re still going strong, if a bit embattled from the daunting presence of Amoeba just a few blocks away. Anyhow, in celebration of their fortieth birthday they decided to go absolutely BA-NA-NA-S! They have been running massive discounts all month on their entire stock, getting progressively juicier and jucier. As of yesterday every used record in the store was 40 percent off!!! Zoinks! Crazier still, they decided to offer up a couple of celebratory bonuses to a few lucky beat junkies, myself among them. Thus the call, thus the trip to Aaron’s.

All of this is just to say that amidst my wicked splurge yesterday I found this Daz-I-Cue(check out the Bugz website) remix of what is perhaps (?) my favorite soul song of all time. The reworking isn’t revolutionary, but it’s damn good and to be honest with you, I’d drop ten bucks on an ABBA cover of this song. Furthermore, much to the certain delight of all you lucky blokes out there in the blogosphere, it inspired me to do a post dedicated to the song that begs the question: Is there something inherently wrong with a man as white as I am, singing–no, wailing–at the top of his lungs “Is it because I’m black?” Is it weird that in the core of my soul I identify with this man’s very afrocentric lyric? That it moves me, almost to tears?

I want to drive Cadillac cars! I want to make it! I want to BE somebody!

I’m not going to go into a long biography of Syl Johnson (or the Wu or Daz or Ken Boothe for that matter). I can’t right now. It’s like a hundred degrees outside and I got sweat coming out of my ears.

Just enjoy the music. Maybe I’ll update this post when it cools down.

(Murphy’s Note: I dropped my digital camera the other day so I couldn’t get shots of the album covers. But honestly, peep Syl in his prime. Who needs a lousy cover?)

Dorothy Ashby : Come Live With Me
taken from the album “Afro-Harping” on Cadet (1968)

Dorothy Ashby : The Moving Finger
taken from the album “The Rubaiyat Of Dorthy Ashby” on Cadet (1970)

I thought that after last week’s post in praise of Richard Evans productions, I ought to bring out some of the heavy-hitter tracks that originally got me hooked on his sound. Here are two choice cuts from the entirely unique funky-harp queen Dorothy Ashby. While fellow jazz harpist Alice Coltrane was travelling outward and inward on the yogic path, Dorothy went in search of the divine groove- constructing adventurous stereo-panned worlds on godsent breakbeats. In Dorothy’s sacred land, the kalimba and piccolo (vibraphone too!) join forces with stabbing strings and an amorphous fuzz guitar in what pilgrims recognize as nothing short of prophesy. Who could have heard the funk in an instrument so seemingly harmless? It’s really on “The Moving Finger” where we see the fulfillment of her vision. Syncopated staccato stankiness on the KOTO? That’s realness.

“The Rubaiyat…” is a concept album which takes it’s inspiration (and some literal quotations) from the poetry of Persian renaissance (before there was a renaissance) man Omar Khayyam. When he wasn’t writing about moving fingers and drinking wine, Omar was pushing boundaries in mathmatics, science, philosophy, and astronomy too. I actually used a translation of his Rubaiyat as one of the texts for my final collegiate thesis- how nerdy is that. To redeem a bit of hipness, I also referenced this particular LP and explored the art/science of DJology.

Just found out about a REALLY sick place to download mixes, read interviews, and remind yourself how much better taste in music people tend to have in the U.K., check out FutureBoogie.com for yourself. I’ll be doing a mix for them pretty soon, picking out tracks now…

And on the ill mix tip, illvibe.net reminds us that there are cats over here keeping things nice too. So bollocks to you bloody euro buggahs! No offense, I don’t even really know what I just wrote.

Final shout-out: Steve (aka Sema4) over @ Scissorkick.com threw a dope party on Saturday night with a couple bands that I guarantee you’ll be hearing more from shortly. Nice work mang!

Itopia: Moses
taken from the album “Jah Children Invasion” on Wackies (1986)

Love Joys: It Ain’t Easy
taken from the album “Jah Children Invasion” on Wackies (1986)

Wayne Jarrett: Do You Really Know
taken from the album “Jah Children Invasion” on Wackies (1986)

The year is 1986. Good music–as art, as history, as a way of life–is teetering on the precipice of extinction. Madonna reigns supreme. “Thriller” has already come and gone, heralding the beginning of the end for MJ. Hip-hop is still in it’s too-early-to-be-great stages. Reggae bands across the globe are falling victim, one by one, to the insidious scourge of the synthesizer. Bob Marley is dead. Roots reggae seems to be in its death throes.

Then, on the horizon, seemingly out of nowhere: Wackies. The Bronx-based brainchild of Lloyd “Bullwackie” (I can’t make this shit up) Barnes, Wackies became the beacon of hope for the despairing masses who had all but given up. Barnes recruited an incontestably solid line-up of talent, minor and major. Appearances by Sugar Minnott, Max Romeo and Horace Andy ensured the dubious listener that this was a label of substantial clout. Andy, by releasing the historic “Dance Hall Style” on Wackies, elevated the label to rock solid status (Biggup!!). However the label was also home to many lesser known artists who would cut tracks for various compilations that Wackies would periodically release. In this way the roots world was introduced to the Love Joys and Wayne Jarrett, and to a lesser extent Itopia.

The Love Joys, from Brixton, England, consisted of cousins Sonia Abel and Claudette Brown. Their first recording on the Wackies imprint was entitled “Reggae Vibes”, but it wasn’t until their second album, “Lovers Rock”, that they were recognized as stone-cold killers of the rootical sound. (Both of these have be recently re-released and can be found quite easily) After recording these seminal female roots records, they disappeared, never again recording for Wackies or anyone else.

Wayne Jarrett. Man oh, man. Listen to this cat’s voice! Is there a sweeter honey? A protege of Horace Andy’s, Jarrett dropped the bomb with his “Showcase Volume One”, which, along with “Dance Hall Style” is probably one of the top three recordings of this era in my book.

I’ll be straight with y’all: I don’t know a damn thing about Itopia. Dope track though, huh? I loves me a rootsy falsetto. Sing it brother.

A LOT of the Wackies catalogue has been or is in the process of being re-released. Seek it out and buy it. Now.