Behind The Scenes: Hip Hop

Hip, hop, the beat don't stop.

But sometimes it has to. It can't go on for ever. In this week's episode of Radio 4's 'Behind The Scenes', Jonathan Wasteman and the team take a trip across the pond to look at the past, present and future of hip hop music.

Check the Ruffhousing podcast site (or player on this page) to hear it.

i'm on the road like lines that are yellow

THE MOVEMENT DOCUMENTARY

If you've had to sit through any of the films that make up Peter Jackson's multi Oscar-winning Lord Of The Rings trilogies, you'll know that they are all pretty long. 'The Return of the King' is the longest of the three, clocking in at a seat-fidgeting 201 minutes (nearly three and a half hours). However, the length of the running time is more than justified by the amazing special effects, fantastic scripts and stories and the superb appearances from a host of Hollywood A-Listers, including Elijah Wood, Liv Tyler, Viggo Mortensen and Sir Ian McKellen.

The Movement Documentary is the same length, has no special effects, no script, story or coherent sense of structure and features mainly Ghetto, Scorcher and Wretch 32.

While this comparison may seem like a tenuous one, it is important because as much as I like The Movement – particularly Ghetto – they are demonstrating what can only be described as child-like optimism in hoping that anyone would be interested in watching them go about their day-to-day business for this length of time.

Having said that, there are some entertaining moments on this DVD; the Boy Better Know freestyle features some particularly impressive bars from Ghetto, Wiley and Skepta, and Mercston and Ghetto's tour of Bow has some funny bits too. The inclusion of so many music videos is a nice bonus and the footage from the making of The Streets' 'Prangin' Out' remix, in which every MC - apart from the typically business-minded Skepta - has left it until the day of recording to write their lyrics, becomes funnier and funnier the longer it seems to take (Ghetto claimes at one point, “it's not a good look, cos we've been writing these bars for four hours”), coming to its comic climax when Frisco arrives, stating - “I've only got two lines so far, so I'm getting back in the lab right now”. We can only assume that he is referring to a metaphorical 'lab', as he remains where he is sat and carries on writing.

Basically, this DVD has all the right elements but they're just never put to proper use. For example, during the section on Scorcher's release day from prison, we get a good couple of minutes of motorway scenery en route, we get Wretch telling us how early they've all had to get up and we get the boys having trouble finding a parking spot. The only thing we don't get is the moment when Scorcher actually comes out of prison. There's a cut and, suddenly, he's out and we're walking back to the car.

This sense of anticlimax sums 'The Movement Documentary' up pretty completely, to be honest. Despite the quality - and personality - of the major players (Wretch, Scorcher and [especially] Ghetto are all excellent MCs and lyrically they're leagues ahead of most of their peers) this DVD drags terribly towards the end and the fact that there is so little actual rapping or freestyling is a real let-down. The Movement have the talent to be one of the best grime groups around but they need to understand that this doesn't make their every move must-see entertainment. Let's hope they can do better on Volume Two; they undoubtedly have the potential to.

A Quick One While He's Away... The Third Hand

This is just a quick one cus i'm a busy man...

RJD2 has always been plagued with DJ Shadow comparisons and his new album ain't gonna do him any favours. Although Shadow's album was all over the place it still had some great tracks on it (particularly the hyphy ones), even the indie guitary/singer tracks...and that's where RJ flaps it...

Looking at this three solo albums in context you can tell Since We Last Spoke was a transistional piece to his new full singer-songwriter over hip hop-lite beats style...and it ain't really a good look...

Upon first listen the album comes over as 'interesting' and there's a hope that the songs will grow on you - unfortunately that don't seem to be happening. They're just too weak and his voice is simply too meek and shrill to hold your attention properly. The beats aren't really a saving grace either, and this is mainly cus he's gone and fucked off his samples. Now for a man that is an badboy manipulator of other peoples breaks this is a risk and it doesn't really pay off. You can understand him wanting to prove he can write his own stuff but if you go the whole hog you gotta come correct - that shit's gotta be provocative B! Fair do's he can play a few instruments but there are problems that let his music down - mainly that he doesn't play them very well...a lot of the time he throws in a chord that just sounds off or that seems like a poor choice as you can hear another chord in your head working far better...

Basically it seems RJ is an ambitious man but at the mo this skills don't match his vision. Maybe he'll have found his feet with his new style on his next album but on this one he definitely flaps the crisps. I mean it ain't that bad but its hard to give an album that you merely find 'interesting' repeated listens, you've gotta really like the shit - ya gets?

STYLEZ OUT

THE RUFFHOUSING GUIDE TO A GRIME CROWD

Ask anybody and they'll tell you that the days when grime nights in London were all hats, hoods and hatred are long gone. Ask anybody except Sally Gunnell, that is; she's still clinging to the past like some sort of gangly blond limpet.

Nowadays, thanks to the combined efforts of The Guardian and Mike Skinner, grime music has morphed from that big, bashy thing that came bouncing out of East London council estates to that smaller, slightly less bashy thing that came on in between Lily Allen and The Fratellis on your iPod Shuffle. In other words, grime is just not that 'urban' any more and nowhere is this fact more obvious than at any mainstream club in which the genre gets played. With this new found diversity in mind, Ruffhousing is proud to bring you: THE RUFFHOUSING GUIDE TO A GRIME CROWD.

1. THE RUDEBOY.


THE LOOK: The basic look encompasses a black New Era hat and a black hoodie. Those feeling ambitious will add dark glasses, a deerstalker and possibly trousers and/or pants.
THE TUNE: Something terrible featuring a sped-up vocal sample produced by a friend of his cousin's. You won't have heard it. Check his myspace: www.myspace.com/friendofmycousins. He's gonna blow this year, apparently.
WHERE CAN YOU FIND HIM?: Usually standing either at the very back or at the very front and scowling. Most aim to be standing behind the MCs looking moody at some point during the evening. You can never – NEVER – find him dancing.
WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING HERE?: The Rudeboy – along with The Blogger (see below) – represents one of the only two groups of people here that actually LIKE grime; therefore, his reason for being here is perhaps the purest of all: he wants to listen to the music. He is in no way here to cause trouble and just wants to hang out with his friends, have a drink and listen to the tunes. However, he was a little peeved at having to pay the full ticket price to get in; as he tried to explain to the bouncer, he once played squash with Jammer's brother-in-law's chiropodist.

2. THE BLOGGER.


THE LOOK: A t-shirt or hat with the name and web address of his/her blog is an absolute fashion essential for The Blogger. Aside from this, probably something fairly similar – if not slightly less garish – than what the Shoreditch Cunt (see below) is rocking.
THE TUNE: Something pretty obscure. Admitting to liking Dizzee Rascal or Lady Sovereign or anybody with any actual talent who has sold more than 13 records is the social equivalent of hugging a toaster in a bath full of poison for the average Blogger. A download-only remix or an exclusive Rinse FM freestyle would be the perfect candidates but, failing that, something like a bit kooky like 'Nintendo' by Skepta or 'Computer Girls' by Lee Brasco would suffice.
WHERE CAN YOU FIND HIM?: Outside, sharing a Lambert & Butler, bitching about the other bloggers that have turned up and referring to Skepta and Wiley as if they were Biblical figures. A typical conversation between two bloggers is demonstrated below:

Blogger 1: Can you believe Blogger 3 is here tonight?
Blogger 2: I know. He's such a dick. You know his real name? Richard!
Blogger 1: Richard! That's rubbish! (Pause) What's yours?
Blogger 2: John.
Blogger 1: Oh, well that's all right. But Richard?! His blog's shit too. You know he claimed that Wiley interview was an exclusive?
Blogger 2: That SO wasn't an exclusive. I was there when the guy from Vice was doing it. Wiley actually brushed past me. Touched my shoulder.
Blogger 1: Wow. Skepta once looked at me. Or at least, looked directly to the left of me.

(Blogger 3 comes over.)

Blogger 3: Alright? Can you believe Blogger 4's here tonight?
Blogger 1: I know. He's such a dick. Do you know his real name?

WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING HERE?: Besides wandering around taking photos and simultaneously trying to get his hat/t-shirt into other peoples' photos, he is listening for any gossip, anecdotes or exclusive tracks that he might be able to mention on his blog. The Blogger considers himself a 'journalist' – and will introduce himself thus; however, he fails to take into account the fact that real journalists tend to write reviews longer than 100 words and rarely refer to themselves in the third person three or four times every line. The Blogger is one of the younger members of a grime crowd and, since he almost certainly still lives at home in Muswell Hill with Mum (Designer at the Observer on Sunday) and Dad (Head of BBC4), he has to be leaving before 12pm.

3. THE AMATEUR FASHION DESIGNER.


THE LOOK: Like The Blogger, a night out for The Fashion Designer doesn't mean an enjoyable time, it means hardcore promotion of her brand. Thus, she will always attend not only dressed entirely in her own creations but also flanked by two or three friends draped in her handiwork. She is – as her name suggests – not a professional designer and this fact is more than evident when you see what she and her companions are wearing; the most demure of the bunch has on star-framed Elton John sunglasses, a leotard with a lightning bolt through it and a crimson bum-bag, while she herself has gone for a necklace made of thoughts and has strapped a live hen to her groin as a make-shift cummerbund.
THE TUNE: Like The Blogger, she will favour the kooky, computer-gamey side of grime. However, unlike The Blogger, she actually knows very little about the music, so her choice will probably be either 'Eskimo' by Wiley, 'I Luv U' by Dizzee Rascal or 'Happy Days' by Ears. She would never admit it, but 'Brown Eyes' by Kano makes her spine go all tingly.
WHERE CAN YOU FIND HER?: Again, like The Blogger, she will spend the evening attempting to squeeze herself, her cronies and her garish garments in front of every lens in the building. For the most part, she and her crew will be on the dancefloor, simulating mild epileptic fits around the same handbag.
WHAT THE HELL IS SHE DOING HERE?: As I mentioned in the introduction to this piece, grime is currently quite trendy (although it is becoming increasingly less so) and thus it is the perfect place to show off her clothes; a very cheap catwalk, if you will. She is here, not to have a good time and enjoy herself, but to make sure that in every photo she looks like she is having a good time and enjoying herself. In the toilets, she wonders to herself when everything went so badly wrong, and concludes that it was probably around the time Dad left to go and live with Neil – the man from number 32. Then she dabs her eyeliner and heads back out.

4. THE SHOREDITCH CUNT.


THE LOOK: Glam fop meets urban simpleton. His hair is delicately askew and his thick black rimmed glasses are not only entirely unnecessary but are also doing his 20-20 vision a great deal of harm. He drapes a purple or lime green zip-up hoodie over an ironic T-Shirt; possibly the N.W.A. Version (“Ice Cube & MC Ren & Dre & Eazy”) of the the block lettered Beatles (“John & Paul & George & Ringo”) top. Or maybe something with a Disney or Nintendo character on it. He has ripped, skinny jeans and battered Converse. Inside, he is dead.
THE TUNE: The Shoreditch Cunt is into grime predominantly because he finds it humorous. This means that potential favoured artists will include Tempa T, Bruza and Mr Wong; however, Jammer's 'Murkle Man' undoubtedly takes first prize here.
WHERE CAN YOU FIND HIM?: Right at the front. The Shoreditch Cunt is the most excitable member of any grime crowd as, while both the Rudeboys and the Bloggers probably know more about the music than him, he is far more willing to make a tit of himself. Despite his enthusiasm for the songs, the Shoreditch Cunt will, at certain moments, prove himself to be a little behind the times. For example, he may roll the 'r' on a 'brrrap' (a la Klashnekoff), not realising that this is just simply no longer done, or – at worst – he may even use the word 'Boo!': an act so cripplingly embarrassing that it will cause the Blogger to fall immediately into the nearest available well.
WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING HERE?: This is a good question. The Shoreditch Cunt's fascination with grime music is most probably borne out of his subscription to Vice Magazine; a publication that has been simultaneously promoting and mocking grime music for a long time now. However, once he had been to a few nights, it became difficult to stop as he realised that – quite suddenly and without any warning – grime had become his 'thing'. He'd go to parties and people would introduce him as being 'well into grime'; he'd walk down Old Street and people who'd been at the same nights as he had would give him a respectful nod; his Aunt bought him Flirta D's new mixtape. Now the fates had decided that grime was his quirky little eccentricity, it would mean social suicide to stop turning up at the nights that championed it. However, his major problem – and darkest secret – is that, apart from the comedians like Jammer and Wong, he actually finds grime a bit... well, shit.

5. THE NOVICE.


THE LOOK: Terrified/Bewildered.
THE TUNE: He's got all three albums by The Streets and he borrowed 'Boy In Da Corner' from a mate in order to copy it. He quite likes Lady Sovereign and once heard Kano's name mentioned at a bus stop. When asked his favourite grime tune, he will probably respond with either 'Fix Up Look Sharp' by Dizzee or 'Blinded By The Lights' by The Streets, although neither of these songs can really be classified as grime. He's more into indie, to be honest; like, have you heard Kasabian's new stuff?
WHERE CAN YOU FIND HIM?: By the bar or right at the back. In fact, you're most likely to find him by the bar because the Rudeboys wearing the biggest scowls tend to be right at the back. He gets there too early and leaves within an hour – hour and a half, tops.
WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING HERE?: He is asking himself the same question. He now deeply regrets the moment last week when he said to his friend, “Man, we live in London, but we hardly ever go out and see new and exciting stuff”. He regrets the millisecond in which his friend saw the Observer's Music Section had been left open and noticed a piece on something called 'Grime'. More than anything, he regrets wearing his Toploader t-shirt; it doesn't seem to be going down well at all. Although, The Shoreditch Cunt is giving him an approving nod.

So there you have it. Now get down to a grime night and see them in the flesh.

Trouble

Don't Make Me Switch Flows And Get Dark

Dennis Norden once said, “Versatility is the key to success”. Despite the fact that I made this up – Norden has never, to my knowledge, said that – he still makes a good point, and nowhere is it more profound than in music. The artists that demonstrate the ability to switch between different styles, emotions, personas and sounds are, more often than not, the ones that are the most captivating. David Bowie, Captain Beefheart, Michael Jackson and Ween are all good examples of acts that have consistently chopped and changed the way they sound, although the real benchmark for musical versatility was undoubtedly set by The Yin Yang Twins, who have written lyrics about both strippers AND pole-dancers.

In this post, I will be examining two very different artists who I think display the greatest breadth in terms of emotional and sonic variety: Sizzla Kalonji – the turban-toting, Babylon-scorning Bobo Ashanti figurehead – and Nico – the sad-eyed, flaxen-haired friend of the Velvet Underground.

SIZZLA


Anyone who knows anything about reggae (if you bought beads in Thailand before beginning your BA in Social Anthropology at Sussex, I'm talking to you) knows that the genre is split roughly into two categories. On one side, there's the peaceful, melodic roots music championed by Bob Marley, Johnny Clarke, The Mighty Diamonds, Cornel Campbell et al. The guys on this side are primarily concerned with spreading love, praising Jah, staying away from barber shops and promoting marijuana. On the other, there's the furious, bass-driven bastard child of the Sleng-Teng Riddim: dancehall. The stars of this movement (Ninjaman, Bounty Killer, Cutty Ranks etc) concentrate their worries around the destruction of Babylon, the destruction of chi-chi men, the destruction of rival MCs, destruction in general and promoting marijuana. While you could certainly argue that there is a need for a third, slightly smaller, category to encapsulate the deejay stylings (and marijuana promotion) of U Roy, I Roy, Roy Hattersley and all the other Roys that many would claim helped give birth to rap music, generally speaking, reggae can usually be split into two very simple sections: violent and non-violent.

There are very few artists who can produce songs that fit neatly into both these categories and Sizzla is by far the best of them. On tracks like 'Be Strong' and 'Just One Of Those Days', his voice fluctuates between broken falsetto and sweet, heavy sorrow; his lyrics carry concious messages of warning and love. On 'Clean Up Your Heart', he pleads, “Be not hypocrite amongst yourselves, African daughters and sons”, and on 'Thank You Mama' he marvels at his own mother's bravery, claiming “no-one knows the pressure you bear, just only you”.

These songs are so brilliant; so raw and sad and spiritual that you can hardly believe it is the same person when you hear Sizzla over a dancehall riddim. Any trace of love or beauty is pushed swiftly aside as his voice becomes almost incomprehensible; a guttural, hate-fuelled growl. Similarly, the positive, concious thoughts expressed on tunes like 'Where Are You Running To' and 'Thank You Mama' make way for the kind of mindless violence that would make Ice Cube blush. On 'To The Point', Kalonji talks of chopping Pope Paul's head off and “bunning out” Queen Elizabeth in the same verse. This is the same person who, on 'Be Strong', expresses hope that his friend is “behaving himself like a good-behaving citizen”; this is hypocrisy at its most ridiculous, but it sounds fucking incredible. While the signals that Sizzla is sending out on these, his more rowdy tracks, are almost comical in their vicious negativity, they are consistently compelling; when he you hear him promise, on 'Ready Fi Di Road', to “buss up them head and kick them with me Clark's Wallabys”, it is almost impossible to resist a gun finger, even on public transport.

So, despite his hypocrisy, homophobia, and burning desire to “bun” old Lizzie the Second, Sizzla is by far and away the most versatile (and, in my humble opinion, best) reggae artist ever. There is, I think, only one other performer who matches his musical breadth and variety and that is the Chelsea Girl herself: Nico.

NICO


Nico's versatility is easily demonstrated using just two albums: 'Chelsea Girl' and 'The End'. These albums are, without wanting to sound at all melodramatic, literally like listening to life and death recorded and spread over 10 and 8 tracks respectively. 'Chelsea Girl' is - despite what 'Winter Song' might lead you to believe - an album that sounds like Spring; breezy acoustic guitars flutter in and out of lazy violins, while Nico's voice – fresh and alert – wanders wide-eyed through the strings taking everything in. While there is constantly a darker side present throughout the record (on 'These Days' she claims, “I had a lover/I don't think I risk another these days”), both her vocal tone and her musical backing are never anything but happy, innocent and pure.

'The End' is a different matter altogether. While 'Winter Song' may have warned us against judging a book by its cover, both the title of this album and the Nico we see on the front of the sleeve (moody with black hair rather than moody and blonde on 'Chelsea...') hint correctly that the new-born feeling present throughout 'Chelsea Girl' may not be making an appearance here at all. This album sounds like the end of the world; the cheerful guitars and violins replaced by ghostly organs, skeletal percussion and even - on 'Innocent and Vain' - screaming feedback. Nico's voice, so wondrous and curious on 'Chelsea Girl', seems now to rise out of a chasm; cold, metallic and alien. The difference is astounding.

So, there you have it. Two artists: one fluent in both love and hate, the other capable of capturing both life and death. Surely, with the obvious exception of the Yin Yangs, you cannot get more versatile than this?

Thomas FB Troubledoubledoubledouble.

Caught, Can I Get a Witness?

A good sample makes a good hip hop track - an easy rule that is almost always accurate (although how Will Smith managed to butcher ‘Rock the Casbah’ for ‘Willenium’ is beyond me…). Another good rule is that 95% of good hip hop is sample based. So basically without a great musical past to pilfer from hip hop is fucked - proper fucked, like the big rabbit. With this in mind, I would like to share with you what I consider are the most important/creative/best sample based albums of all time. I think you only really need to consider three – you could argue that there are more, and there are, but these three were milestones for the art and nowt else can really touch them…so in chronological order here are the beautiful plates of wax –


1. 3 Feet High and Rising – De La Soul



Probably the first album on any list milestones in sampling, simply because it was the first REAL milestone. I mean you could argue that Grand Master Flash’s Adventures on the Wheel’s of Steel was the first milestone, and you’d have a reasonable point, but loads of DJ’s were doing that shit at the time (maybe not quite as well). That album was more of a summation of block party DJing and an advert for the scratching…not real loop digga shit.

The story of 3 ft is certainly well told so I might aswell tell it again…but with less focus on the songs and more the records used to make them.

Prince Paul, DJ with pioneering hip hop band Stetasonic, hooks up with two and emcees and one DJ that bounced to a slightly different beat than the then crop of rap groups – they called themselves De La Soul. Rough demo’s of tracks such as ‘Potholes…’ were already in the bag but the Prince Among Thieves holed up with De La in their Amityville basement and caned their parents’ record collections, Paul’s records, Disney soundtracks, comedy records, TV shows, basically anything they could nick… It must have been quite exciting because nobody had really strayed too far away from you basic James Brown/funk/jazz sample stock before. The results were bad ass. It’s a cliché but the album is psychedelic. Samples triggered at every turn; killer sampled, not programmed, drums; and just a different sonic feel due to the amount of pop and rock samples thrown into the mix.

This album basically made it ok for everybody to start sampling anything. This was mainly down to the naivety of the De La and, probably more so, the fucking genius of the older and wiser Prince Paul. It was also a hit which made it even more influential as C.R.E.A.M and record companies now had proof that there was more to the music side of hip hop than James Brown. There was another big influence on sampling however – law suits… The Turtles got pissed off when they heard one of their tracks used and so sample law was created and would be a constant thorn in hip hops side from that day on.

There is loads more I could write about this album but to be honest it’s all been said before, so there are its basic achievements which are pretty fucking massive.


2. Paul’s Boutique – Beastie Boys



Straight up fucking funky white boy shit!

I went threw a phase about six years ago of trying to collect every sample used on this album and I must have achieved about 90% of my goal. This meant only one thing – I was fucking broke! There are so many samples used on this record its untrue. I bloody love it man, I really do.

Paul’s Boutique has to be one of the funkiest albums of all time. If 3 ft was a naïve, fresh use of sampling then this was it older (even though they were released in the same year), cooler, slicker brother who was really down with the funk. Musically created by the Dust Brothers for the Beastie Boys to have fun over, this album is a straight up lesson in how use samples with style. Classic funk breaks mixed with some quality crate finds give the album a huge sense of fun…although it isn’t all funk – ‘Sounds of Science’ is built entirely on Beatles samples with some cracking scratching from DJ Hurricane (‘Hurricane, got clout, other DJs, he put ya head out…’) and is still as funky as fuck. Couple all these seamless funky ass beats with three emcees that fired rhymes off each other for fun and you’ve got one hell of an album, which is quite simply essential.

Oh and I haven’t even mentioned the mighty 9 part, near 20 minute hip hop tour de force that is ‘B-Boy Bouillabaisse’. Built on drum machine beats and killer samples like The Isley Brothers ‘That Lady’, it beautifully rounds of the albums amazingly funky, fun mix of beats and rhymes.


3. Endtroducing… - DJ Shadow



Trip hop is a dirty word, and this album single handedly created and destroyed it in one fell swoop. Created it was probably the first instrumental hip hop album of any real quality and destroyed it because it was also by so far the best, that nothing before or since can even sniff its farts without having to ask permission.

Shadow really schooled suckers with his debut long player. As with Paul’s Boutique this album contains an absolute ton of samples, but they are used in a far more subtle manner than that employed by the Dust Brothers - they flow in and out of each other in beautifully layered loops. This album really destroys the stupid ‘sampling is stealing’ line, as Shadow really does create something aesthetically wondrous and new. The album could be described as ‘progressive instrumental hip hop’ but it is best described with the title of another DJ Shadow track – ‘Hardcore hip hop’, for that is quite simply what it is.

It’s not only the way the samples are woven together so well, it’s the crate depth needed to make the album. Put it this way, Mr. Davis owns more than a couple of records and he also makes a point of only sampling from original source vinyl – no reissues or comps, bitches! The samples used cover a vast time period too. Aswell as the obscure funk, jazz and psychedelia you’d expect from such an album, there is also room for snatches of Bjork and even U2 drums. It’s not only this huge open minded palette of source material that makes the album work. It’s also the respect Shadow has for the records and artists he uses – he describes the basement of his favourite record shop as a ‘graveyard of broken dreams’ (or similar words to that effect anyway), and it really shows in the astonishing album he created with them.



So there they are, three milestones in sample based hip hop albums. One innocent, naïve and utterly fun; one funkier than three day old shit and slicker than the Exxon Valdez; and one more beautiful Salma Hayek’s fresh shaven fanny! There are other leaps in sampling out there though, like Double Dee and Steinski’s Lesson series of seminal singles and remixes; or Coldcut’s Journey’s by DJ which was a great mix album. But it’s the three gems above that that showed their producers to be real masters of their art. Enjoy.

STYLEZ OUT