A Review of The Roots’ How I Got Over, Part One
01 A Peace Of Light – Nice intro. I like Dirty Projectors, so coming in, I felt like whatever the ladies/?uest cooked up would be good. The ladies’ voices sound like instruments, so there’s always a heightening of how interesting the music sounds. Nice change from 4 to 3, then back into four with the drums coming in. And a great transition into “Walk Alone”; every transition on the album is great, save for the last one, which was baffling, but I’ll get to that later.
02 Walk Alone – Having heard “Dear God 2.0” already, I thought this sounded similar. In fact, everything right up to “How I Got Over” possesses pretty much the same color. But the subtle differences in subject matter and actually instrument lines are enough to make each song distinctive. After listening to the album enough, the narrative begins to come to the fore, and this track establishes the beginning, in which we join at crew of people isolated from the world, somewhat detached from a purposeful life and unable to shake the bleakness of the future.
I think it’s worth noting that we don’t hear frontman Black Thought’s voice without hearing five other voices before it. I always find it interesting when a group decides to delay the entrance of the frontman. On one hand, it diminishes the singularity of the group’s true mouthpiece. On the other hand, it builds anticipation; we as listeners are allowed a little warm-up time before we hear the band at full capacity. Two albums that exemplify this are Stevie’s Talking Book and Foreign Exchange’s Connected.
With rap songs, opinions differ on who should get the third verse of a three-verse song. Some consider it the anchor, others the weak spot. Black Thought pretty much always knocks it out of the park, so for this song, I’ve decided he’s assumed the role of anchor.
03 Dear God 2.0 – I still haven’t heard the MoF original, but I suppose the chorus is sufficient to get an understanding of its concept. It sounds good, albeit mellow, and the catchiest thing about it is what is sung by Yim Yames. Black Thought’s insight-to-list ratio is relatively low here, unfortunately. The line “If everything is made in China, are we Chinese?” doesn’t sit well from a quality standpoint. The best line may be “Why is the world so ugly when you made it in Your image,” as it really cuts to the crux of the matter. And because Thought doesn’t delve further into the difficulty of maintaining faith in the face of the ubiquity of, for lack of a better word, evil, I can’t help but feel like more could’ve been accomplished with this track.
04 Radio Daze – This song hit me hard, right away. I love, love, LOVE the hook. I think it’s ?uest and the band, which is one reason why I like it. I’ve always liked the thought of a band being able to do the background vocals on their stuff, and I love the imperfections that come with that. The slightly off-key answers of “Never, never leave you alone, never, never leave you alone” absolutely floor me. I know that might sound strange. The verses are strong, and I’m a big Blu fan, so it was a treat to hear him on a Roots track. Narrative-wise, this may be the most existential track: very ambivalent, very uncertain. Classic. One of their best, ever.
05 Now Or Never – As the title suggests, this song represents the moment of truth—the moment at which one decides to dig one’s heels and push back against the forces that are meant to break one’s self. The beat is so butter, so wet. I’m a big Phonte fan the same way I’m a big Blu fan, so likewise, it’s a treat to hear Phonte on a Roots track. Maybe even more welcome to my ears is Dice Raw, who provides his only rap verse on the album. I’ve always thought Dice a beast, so because he spends so much of his time on the album singing, it makes it doubly precious to hear him spitting. Every verse is legit. The only element of the song I find less-than-stellar is the hook, also provided by Dice Raw. It simply doesn’t work for me.
Also at this point I began to think, “What happened to the spit hooks?” I think this would’ve been the perfect place to bypass the singing and go really pure with it. It’s a shame the hook is what it is as everything else about the song is so damned good—even the end, which skips the beat to match the tempo of the next track. Beautiful touch.
06 How I Got Over – I laugh to myself now because this song is over a year old. I think the video is about as old. If I ruled the world and everything it, I’d make LA Reid resend the video and the song to TV and radio.
The studio version actually dropped after The Roots’ rendition of the song on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon. They’re two different animals, the live version being much more energetic. I prefer the studio version, however, because it fits the album so well. In a lot of ways, this is its climax, its self-realization. (That only makes sense, right? It is the title track, after all.) It also marks the break in the mood from sullen and contemplative to more optimistic and determined. The lyrics are pitch-perfect to the sentiment, an observation of the merciless environment found in too many neighborhoods worldwide.
Thought sings, raps and sings again, rather serviceably. Dice provides the hook once again. I love the hook. I find myself singing the upper line every…single…time.
And that’s the end of Side 1.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
Proc Featured In the Japanese Music Blog Beats N Miso!
I recently did an interview for the Japanese music blog Beats N Miso. Here's the link. Many, many thanks to Aomiso and the crew at the blog.
The following is the pre-translated interview:
1. What was your inspiration for becoming a rapper?
I had always listened to rap from about the age of 8, but I never thought it possible to be a rapper myself until 1999, 2000, when I was in my late teens and discovering music that resonated with my particular wavelength, so to speak. That was the time I really got into The Roots, Common, Mos Def … that Soulquarian movement. Growing up, my preferences progressed from pop rap to New York rap—Nas, Jay, DMX, Wyclef, et cetera—which were more based on aspiration or projection or just good beats. But once I began to delve into Com’s, Mos’ and Thought’s material, I became convinced that my own thoughts could work in the paradigm of authentic rap lyricism. That’s when I started writing.
2. Where are you from?
I’ve lived in many places, but the simple answer is that I’m a Bay Area guy with roots in Denver.
3. What is your impression of hip hop in Japan? Do you know any artists?
Honestly, I’m not familiar with any artists outside of King Giddra, Teriyaki Boyz and DJ Krush. But from listening to those artists, I feel like the elements and themes that permeate the American hip hop tradition apply in Japanese hip hop, likely adapted to cultural and societal nuances unique to Japan. Sonically, I’d say Japan’s prominent artists are more open to different aesthetics than America’s prominent artists are. That isn’t to say that we don’t boast a diverse palette here in the U.S., it’s just that the mainstream tends to favor one sound at a time, so the big artists tend to follow the trends and copycat. I’m under the impression that that’s not the case in Japan.
I must make special mention that DJ Krush’s beats are so dope to me.
4. What are your top five albums on rotation?
Corinne Bailey Rae’s The Sea, Mayer Hawthorne’s A Strange Arrangement, Mos Def’s The Ecstatic, Gang Starr’s Full Clip and J.J. Johnson & Nat Adderley’s The Yokohama Concert.
5. Have you been to Japan?
Only on a layover in Tokyo between San Francisco and Manila.
6. How would you get rid of pigeons who keep waking you up at 6am?
I would do as Cesare Borgia, who had the tyrannical governor Rimirro de Orco murdered and displayed in the public square in order to curry affection from and to strike awe into the hearts and minds of the people of Romagna. I’d take the bully pigeon, kill it and lay it’s carcass on the window sill for all pigeons to see. Let ‘em mess with me then. They’d love me and let me sleep.
7. Pancakes or Waffles?
Pancakes, if only for their relative abundance in comparison to waffles.
8. If you could go anywhere in the world where would it be?
I’d go to Vancouver and see my parents.
9. What can we expect from Proc in the future?
Expect more of the same brand of rap music from me, some hip-hop production work for my partner, Amin, and some traditional songwriting for my partner, the6th. I’m going to try to have complete projects out every 15 or so months.
10. Name one underground artist you would recommend we check up on.
Check up on Delorean out of Sacramento, California.
11. If you could collaborate with anyone dead or alive who would it be?
My dream is to get my old high school jazz band back together. One of us went on to be a jazz drummer of some accomplishment. Another is a lead guitarist for a local rock outfit in Denver. I wonder what kind of mish-mash we could come up with given a few months.
The following is the pre-translated interview:
1. What was your inspiration for becoming a rapper?
I had always listened to rap from about the age of 8, but I never thought it possible to be a rapper myself until 1999, 2000, when I was in my late teens and discovering music that resonated with my particular wavelength, so to speak. That was the time I really got into The Roots, Common, Mos Def … that Soulquarian movement. Growing up, my preferences progressed from pop rap to New York rap—Nas, Jay, DMX, Wyclef, et cetera—which were more based on aspiration or projection or just good beats. But once I began to delve into Com’s, Mos’ and Thought’s material, I became convinced that my own thoughts could work in the paradigm of authentic rap lyricism. That’s when I started writing.
2. Where are you from?
I’ve lived in many places, but the simple answer is that I’m a Bay Area guy with roots in Denver.
3. What is your impression of hip hop in Japan? Do you know any artists?
Honestly, I’m not familiar with any artists outside of King Giddra, Teriyaki Boyz and DJ Krush. But from listening to those artists, I feel like the elements and themes that permeate the American hip hop tradition apply in Japanese hip hop, likely adapted to cultural and societal nuances unique to Japan. Sonically, I’d say Japan’s prominent artists are more open to different aesthetics than America’s prominent artists are. That isn’t to say that we don’t boast a diverse palette here in the U.S., it’s just that the mainstream tends to favor one sound at a time, so the big artists tend to follow the trends and copycat. I’m under the impression that that’s not the case in Japan.
I must make special mention that DJ Krush’s beats are so dope to me.
4. What are your top five albums on rotation?
Corinne Bailey Rae’s The Sea, Mayer Hawthorne’s A Strange Arrangement, Mos Def’s The Ecstatic, Gang Starr’s Full Clip and J.J. Johnson & Nat Adderley’s The Yokohama Concert.
5. Have you been to Japan?
Only on a layover in Tokyo between San Francisco and Manila.
6. How would you get rid of pigeons who keep waking you up at 6am?
I would do as Cesare Borgia, who had the tyrannical governor Rimirro de Orco murdered and displayed in the public square in order to curry affection from and to strike awe into the hearts and minds of the people of Romagna. I’d take the bully pigeon, kill it and lay it’s carcass on the window sill for all pigeons to see. Let ‘em mess with me then. They’d love me and let me sleep.
7. Pancakes or Waffles?
Pancakes, if only for their relative abundance in comparison to waffles.
8. If you could go anywhere in the world where would it be?
I’d go to Vancouver and see my parents.
9. What can we expect from Proc in the future?
Expect more of the same brand of rap music from me, some hip-hop production work for my partner, Amin, and some traditional songwriting for my partner, the6th. I’m going to try to have complete projects out every 15 or so months.
10. Name one underground artist you would recommend we check up on.
Check up on Delorean out of Sacramento, California.
11. If you could collaborate with anyone dead or alive who would it be?
My dream is to get my old high school jazz band back together. One of us went on to be a jazz drummer of some accomplishment. Another is a lead guitarist for a local rock outfit in Denver. I wonder what kind of mish-mash we could come up with given a few months.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Corinne Bailey Rae dazzles her devotees with a straight-ahead, eclectic set
Corinne Bailey Rae played the Grand Ballroom at the Regency on Thursday, April 15.
Walking into the Grand Ballroom at San Francisco’s Regency building, I first noticed the very diverse nature of the crowd here to see Corinne Bailey Rae. While that may owe in some small part to the international flavo(u)r of the artist performing—and that could well be true given the preponderance of anglophiles in the Bay Area—it speaks moreso to the broad appeal of her genre-smudging music. Looking at different corners of the room, one could think we were there to see Mary J. Blige, or Joni Mitchell, or even Fugazi; such was the variety of ages and looks present. Fortunately for us all, Mrs. Bailey Rae came with a little something for everybody.
She and her band took the stage rather nondescriptly, and that demeanor would persist for the duration of her set. She opened just as her latest album, The Sea, does, with the bare-bones rock of “Are You Here”, followed by the giddy whirlwind of “Paris Nights, New York Mornings”, a personal favorite of mine. It was at that point that I wished the ballroom was a little less packed (the show sold out), because a lot of the songs that we were going to hear begged for some dancing, bouncing and arm-waving. Ironically, that Corinne’s audience skews older precludes the possibility of a livelier crowd, so that wasn’t going to happen, but I did feel that we should’ve and could’ve given more to the band by actually using the dance floor as a dance floor. And never was that more the case than with the seductive sway of “Closer”, which was given the extended jam treatment, complete with perfectly-executed Minnie Riperton-style adlibs.
As the concert went on, Corinne’s singing throughout more than impressed. Because she played different instruments while singing, and also because I’m accustomed to singers not quite living up to what makes it onto the record, I found myself very pleasantly surprised at the great command she had over her voice. The strength of her falsetto was particularly impressive.
Corinne’s stage presence left a little to be desired. There is a bit of girlishness still in the way she carries herself. Her manner is somewhat coltish, her speaking voice very timid. And that energy worked quite well for staid songs like “I Would Like To Call It Beauty” and “Love Is On The Way”, but uptempo rockers like “Paper Dolls” and “The Blackest Lily” could have used a few swings of the guitar. Likewise, slow burners like “Closer” and “Till It Happens To You” deserved a longer sway of the hips behind the mic, as opposed to Corinne’s leaning bounces.
Corinne’s band played well and provided the fullness required for her sonically rich music. She offered each musician an opportunity to solo on certain songs, and the choices spoke to her well-honed musical instincts, as none of the solos were out of place or indulgent. For example, her keyboardist stretched out on “Feels Like The First Time”, a song in which the piano is already prominent. But the extra sixteen bars of jazz piano resulted in a lovely elaboration. Such was also the case with the bonus blues guitar on “Till It Happens To You”. I do, however, think Corinne and company should invest in dedicated background singers, as while her band’s vocals proved serviceable, so many of her songs would benefit greatly from better singers.
The set was tightly constructed, and Corinne didn’t provide much commentary aside from props for her band. I particularly noticed that two songs, “Like A Star” and “I’d Do It All Again”, were not preceded by introduction. She has referred to the latter as something of a sequel to the former, and they may well be the strongest songs in her catalogue. That she just dove right into them, I felt, lent them an added significance. There were two covers in the set: the first one was a whimsical lovers rock version of “I Only Have Eyes For You”; and the encore, which was a poignant take on Sly and The Family Stone’s bluesy reinvention of “Que Sera Sera”.
Walking into the Grand Ballroom at San Francisco’s Regency building, I first noticed the very diverse nature of the crowd here to see Corinne Bailey Rae. While that may owe in some small part to the international flavo(u)r of the artist performing—and that could well be true given the preponderance of anglophiles in the Bay Area—it speaks moreso to the broad appeal of her genre-smudging music. Looking at different corners of the room, one could think we were there to see Mary J. Blige, or Joni Mitchell, or even Fugazi; such was the variety of ages and looks present. Fortunately for us all, Mrs. Bailey Rae came with a little something for everybody.
She and her band took the stage rather nondescriptly, and that demeanor would persist for the duration of her set. She opened just as her latest album, The Sea, does, with the bare-bones rock of “Are You Here”, followed by the giddy whirlwind of “Paris Nights, New York Mornings”, a personal favorite of mine. It was at that point that I wished the ballroom was a little less packed (the show sold out), because a lot of the songs that we were going to hear begged for some dancing, bouncing and arm-waving. Ironically, that Corinne’s audience skews older precludes the possibility of a livelier crowd, so that wasn’t going to happen, but I did feel that we should’ve and could’ve given more to the band by actually using the dance floor as a dance floor. And never was that more the case than with the seductive sway of “Closer”, which was given the extended jam treatment, complete with perfectly-executed Minnie Riperton-style adlibs.
Corinne’s stage presence left a little to be desired. There is a bit of girlishness still in the way she carries herself. Her manner is somewhat coltish, her speaking voice very timid. And that energy worked quite well for staid songs like “I Would Like To Call It Beauty” and “Love Is On The Way”, but uptempo rockers like “Paper Dolls” and “The Blackest Lily” could have used a few swings of the guitar. Likewise, slow burners like “Closer” and “Till It Happens To You” deserved a longer sway of the hips behind the mic, as opposed to Corinne’s leaning bounces.
Corinne’s band played well and provided the fullness required for her sonically rich music. She offered each musician an opportunity to solo on certain songs, and the choices spoke to her well-honed musical instincts, as none of the solos were out of place or indulgent. For example, her keyboardist stretched out on “Feels Like The First Time”, a song in which the piano is already prominent. But the extra sixteen bars of jazz piano resulted in a lovely elaboration. Such was also the case with the bonus blues guitar on “Till It Happens To You”. I do, however, think Corinne and company should invest in dedicated background singers, as while her band’s vocals proved serviceable, so many of her songs would benefit greatly from better singers.
The set was tightly constructed, and Corinne didn’t provide much commentary aside from props for her band. I particularly noticed that two songs, “Like A Star” and “I’d Do It All Again”, were not preceded by introduction. She has referred to the latter as something of a sequel to the former, and they may well be the strongest songs in her catalogue. That she just dove right into them, I felt, lent them an added significance. There were two covers in the set: the first one was a whimsical lovers rock version of “I Only Have Eyes For You”; and the encore, which was a poignant take on Sly and The Family Stone’s bluesy reinvention of “Que Sera Sera”.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)




