Wow. Red got slept on. Known better today as an actor in and embarrassing stoner movie and TV show, it’s easy to forget Redman was a nasty rapper back in the day. His delivery is forceful and energetic, enough so that he reminds me of Busta Rhymes. But unlike Busta, he never seems like he’s shouting, and his enthusiasm never gets in the way of his diction.
I like to judge MCs in several categories:
Lyrical content (The substance of the lyrics. This includes punchlines.)
Rhyming ability (The accuracy and consistency of the rhymes.)
Flow (How the words and syllables fall on or off the beat.)
Charisma (How engrossing is the MC? This can be through lots of energy (Busta), authority (Rakim), or cool confidence (Jay-Z).)
Vocal Quality (The actual sound of the rapper’s voice, the only category they have very little control over. This is why I hate KRS-1.)
By these rubrics, Redman is one of the best MCs ever. There’s not one category he lags in. His voice sounds great, and it’s in a middle register that’s easy to decipher. He’s forceful and energetic, as I mentioned above, which makes me want to pay attention to what he’s saying. His flow is solid, frequently emphasizing the 2 and 4 beats of every measure. His rhyming is consistent, and his lyrics are about pot, sex, and violence. What’s not to like?
My favorite tracks are “How to Roll a Blunt” (which is exactly what it sounds like) and “Blow Your Mind.” There’s a bunch of filler on this record, but it’s really long for a rap album (21 songs), so that’s not such a big deal. I’d say 10 of them are worth your time, but even the so-so songs are laced with P-Funk samples and dirty jokes. This is a party record, so if you cut out half the songs, your party will be half as long. A better move would be to hit ‘play’ and get drunk.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Ratatat - Classics & Ratatat
I saw Ratatat at Coachella on the advice of my good friend Josh (from Tapes N Tapes), and I’m glad I did. It’s two guitarists and a keyboard wizard, and they make instrumental video game trance music for stoners. And it’s awesome.
The one knock on Ratatat is that their songs are remarkably samey: mid-tempo drum machine beats covered with layers of repeated guitar lines and synth arpeggios. Rinse. Repeat. The formula works pretty well, though, so I suppose I can’t fault these guys for sticking with it.
My favorite song on either album is “Seventeen Years” from 2004’s Ratatat. After listening to both albums, it’s sort of the distillation of their sound. The guitar parts are loud and pleasantly fuzzy. I could play this for just about anybody. It’s hard to pick out individual songs, though, because both records play really well as complete albums. It almost helps to think of them as symphonies with 10 or 12 movements apiece.
The one knock on Ratatat is that their songs are remarkably samey: mid-tempo drum machine beats covered with layers of repeated guitar lines and synth arpeggios. Rinse. Repeat. The formula works pretty well, though, so I suppose I can’t fault these guys for sticking with it.
My favorite song on either album is “Seventeen Years” from 2004’s Ratatat. After listening to both albums, it’s sort of the distillation of their sound. The guitar parts are loud and pleasantly fuzzy. I could play this for just about anybody. It’s hard to pick out individual songs, though, because both records play really well as complete albums. It almost helps to think of them as symphonies with 10 or 12 movements apiece.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Elvis Costello – My Aim Is True
I stumbled onto Elvis Costello only a few weeks ago. Until that point, I’d always assumed he was too punk, too experimental, or too idiosyncratic for my tastes. As it turns out, those labels can only be applied to his lyrics (if that). Musically, he’s a throwback, rearranging the first 20 years of rock history here into a dozen mostly terrific songs. I’m kicking myself that I didn’t find this record sooner.
The first song, “Welcome to the Working Week”, is a perfect way to open an album. It’s all handclaps and backup singers tucked behind an instantly catchy melody, and it’s over in 1 minute and 23 seconds. I’ve probably played this song 90 times since I bought the record a week ago. It’s so good, it prompted me to make an impromptu list of the best first tracks on debut albums. I came up with:
Guns N Roses – “Welcome to the Jungle” from Appetite for Destruction (obvious)
Boston – “More Than a Feeling” from Boston (undeniable)
Bloc Party – “Like Eating Glass” from Silent Alarm (anthemic)
Oasis – “Rock N Roll Star” from Definitely Maybe (audacious)
Weezer – “My Name is Jonas” from the blue album (nerdy)
Andrew W.K. – “It’s Time to Party” from I Get Wet (personal fave)
My buddy Kevin came up with a few more:
D’Angelo – “Brown Sugar” from Brown Sugar (freaky)
Interpol – “Untitled” from Turn on the Bright Lights (I’m not familiar with this one)
Massive Attack – “Safe from Harm” from Blue Lines (great)
U2 – “I Will Follow” from Boy (memorable)
“Working Week” belongs in this company.
Beyond the opening track, there’s plenty of good stuff here. “Alison”, “Less Than Zero”, and “(The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes” were the singles I’d heard of before I bought the CD, and they’re as good as advertised. But “Sneaky Feelings” and “Blame it On Cain” are stellar songs as well.
Besides the songwriting, I’m most impressed with Costello’s voice. His phrasing and improvisation sound like someone who’d been performing for years, rather than someone recording his debut record on the cheap during weekends and holidays. “Sneaky Feelings”, for example, has no discernable melody. The verse is simply Costello vamping. The notes are different from verse to verse, and he alters the rhythm, too. The end result is a song that’s basically impossible to sing karaoke.
Perhaps it’s not a huge surprise that I liked this album, as praise for it is nearly universal. It’s just odd to me that such a good album wouldn’t be more popular. Why haven’t I heard “Less Than Zero” on the radio? Maybe I wouldn’t have avoided his work for so long.
The first song, “Welcome to the Working Week”, is a perfect way to open an album. It’s all handclaps and backup singers tucked behind an instantly catchy melody, and it’s over in 1 minute and 23 seconds. I’ve probably played this song 90 times since I bought the record a week ago. It’s so good, it prompted me to make an impromptu list of the best first tracks on debut albums. I came up with:
Guns N Roses – “Welcome to the Jungle” from Appetite for Destruction (obvious)
Boston – “More Than a Feeling” from Boston (undeniable)
Bloc Party – “Like Eating Glass” from Silent Alarm (anthemic)
Oasis – “Rock N Roll Star” from Definitely Maybe (audacious)
Weezer – “My Name is Jonas” from the blue album (nerdy)
Andrew W.K. – “It’s Time to Party” from I Get Wet (personal fave)
My buddy Kevin came up with a few more:
D’Angelo – “Brown Sugar” from Brown Sugar (freaky)
Interpol – “Untitled” from Turn on the Bright Lights (I’m not familiar with this one)
Massive Attack – “Safe from Harm” from Blue Lines (great)
U2 – “I Will Follow” from Boy (memorable)
“Working Week” belongs in this company.
Beyond the opening track, there’s plenty of good stuff here. “Alison”, “Less Than Zero”, and “(The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes” were the singles I’d heard of before I bought the CD, and they’re as good as advertised. But “Sneaky Feelings” and “Blame it On Cain” are stellar songs as well.
Besides the songwriting, I’m most impressed with Costello’s voice. His phrasing and improvisation sound like someone who’d been performing for years, rather than someone recording his debut record on the cheap during weekends and holidays. “Sneaky Feelings”, for example, has no discernable melody. The verse is simply Costello vamping. The notes are different from verse to verse, and he alters the rhythm, too. The end result is a song that’s basically impossible to sing karaoke.
Perhaps it’s not a huge surprise that I liked this album, as praise for it is nearly universal. It’s just odd to me that such a good album wouldn’t be more popular. Why haven’t I heard “Less Than Zero” on the radio? Maybe I wouldn’t have avoided his work for so long.
Friday, June 8, 2007
Amy Winehouse – Back to Black
I’m not sure what I can say about her that hasn’t been said already. She’s the hot belle du jour, and with good reason. Her stunning Back to Black is my favorite album of the year so far.
I think I first read about her in LA Weekly. I grabbed “You Know I’m No Good” off of iTunes not too long after that, then played it to death. This was a mistake for 2 reasons. First of all, “You Know” doesn’t quite fit, production-wise, with the rest of the songs on the album. I’d place its style as early-1970’s Euro-lounge, while the rest of the album hails emphatically from the 1960’s. As such, I got the wrong impression of the rest of the album, and I waited a month or so before buying it. Secondly, I overplayed “You Know” so badly that I got sick of it. It might be the best song on the album, but I generally skip it now.
My new favorite song on the album is “Tears Dry On Their Own,” which starts with orchestration lifted wholesale from Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell’s “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough”. Not that I mind. The song sounds great, and I like that producer Mark Ronson took a stab at the Motown sound. I’m also wildly impressed with “Love Is A Losing Game,” a gorgeous ballad that never gets boring, probably because it isn’t as slow as Ronson makes you think it is.
But all credit really must go to Ms. Winehouse, who sings the fuck out of these songs. It’s hard to picture any other singer of today or yesterday singing the opening lines of “Me & Mr. Jones” (“What kind of fuckery is this? / You made me miss the Slick Rick gig”). Yet she makes it sounds harsh, funny, and authentic all at once. Awesome.
I think I first read about her in LA Weekly. I grabbed “You Know I’m No Good” off of iTunes not too long after that, then played it to death. This was a mistake for 2 reasons. First of all, “You Know” doesn’t quite fit, production-wise, with the rest of the songs on the album. I’d place its style as early-1970’s Euro-lounge, while the rest of the album hails emphatically from the 1960’s. As such, I got the wrong impression of the rest of the album, and I waited a month or so before buying it. Secondly, I overplayed “You Know” so badly that I got sick of it. It might be the best song on the album, but I generally skip it now.
My new favorite song on the album is “Tears Dry On Their Own,” which starts with orchestration lifted wholesale from Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell’s “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough”. Not that I mind. The song sounds great, and I like that producer Mark Ronson took a stab at the Motown sound. I’m also wildly impressed with “Love Is A Losing Game,” a gorgeous ballad that never gets boring, probably because it isn’t as slow as Ronson makes you think it is.
But all credit really must go to Ms. Winehouse, who sings the fuck out of these songs. It’s hard to picture any other singer of today or yesterday singing the opening lines of “Me & Mr. Jones” (“What kind of fuckery is this? / You made me miss the Slick Rick gig”). Yet she makes it sounds harsh, funny, and authentic all at once. Awesome.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)