What's cool - GZA, "The Mexican"

Updated and appreciated, a classic made over: restated

First of all, a shout out to my oldest friend Vince, who recently gifted me with the Fantagraphics Hip Hop Family Tree. It's been great to learn more about the street side of the culture and how familiar artists fit into the narrative, as well as names I hadn't come across before. Even though "The Mexican" by Babe Ruth (1972) shows up as #17 on the "Breaks and Beats" discography in the back of Volume 1, I had never heard this unlikely influential track. It's fitting that this British prog band did their own version of sampling by incorporating Ennio Morricone's "For a Few Dollars More" into the song, but that's not really how they became so relevant to the budding hip hop scene. For that, you can thank DJs like Jellybean Benitez who keyed into the Latin beat and turned it into a freestyle/disco club hit and B-Boy favorite. Benitez went on to remix/record his cover of the song in 1984 to top the dance charts.

Now Wu-Tang Clan's GZA has taken the tune on and expanded it with his own lyrics. The original version laid out the bare bones story of Chico Fernandez, who signs on with Santa Anna's army and presumably dies in the siege of the Alamo. GZA digs deeper, painting Fernandez as an outlaw player, gunfighter and hustler. It should come as no surprise that GZA's flow maintains the edge that fans expect with taut imagery, relentless rhythm, and a compelling rhyme scheme.



Jose "Choco" Reynoso's arrangement also updates the piece. It sounds like he's pulled in elements from both the original and Jellybean's cover, but he adds his own twists, starting with layering Janita Haan's first sung line into the classical introduction as a foretaste just before it rushes into the beat and GZA's rap. Tom Morello (Rage Against the Machine) steps in with a guitar solo that provides the real musical treat. The first time around, he plays with some spaghetti Western riffs, but the second pass rips into some wicked glitched out jams before taking it home.

GZA continues working on his next release, Dark Matter, but this gem is apparently just a side gift to fans to keep us patient. Thank you, Sir. May we have another?

Recording review - Bike For Three!, So Much Forever (2014)

Can a true partnership be bigger than Kanye's ego?

Sometimes, it seems like hip hop has become a kind of musical cilantro or bacon. It’s the hipster ingredient to add to any tired or bland project to give it a spark of relevance. Mashed up the other way, pairing a rap delivery with an unexpected backing track (Classical! Country!), the juxtaposition usually serves as an ironic in-joke. It’s not really even clever anymore, and I’ve gotten tired of strained cross-breeding that tries to pass itself off as creativity. Which brings us to Bike For Three!, the unlikely partnership between rapper Buck 65 and electronic producer Greetings From Tuskan (Joëlle Lê). Their story follows a Hollywood anti-pattern; let’s call it “not-meet-cute.” The conceit is that the rapper and the Belgian producer connected on MySpace (cue the endorsement ops), but have never met in person, despite collaborating on two albums now.

Buck 65 has always favored more unusual backing tracks, so Lê’s electronic grooves fall well within his abstract M.O. The surprise is that the two have created a unique fusion that reflects a balanced dynamic between their two worlds. Their latest release, So Much Forever, is no mere gimmicked mashup; it’s outsider hip hop that pushes creative boundaries. Rather than grafting one approach onto the other, these two artists bring each of their own worlds together, and neither one truly dominates. The tracks reflect a mutual respect and openness; together they accomplish things that neither could achieve alone. An album like this stands in direct contrast to a project like Kanye West’s Yeezus. West is a self-proclaimed genius, and while he fished around for ideas to flesh out his creative vision, there was never a doubt that every provocative piece of Yeezus was part of his overarching plan. Bike For Three! is less interested in making their audience prove their love than in challenging one another. Lê’s electro-pop dreaminess makes the tunes float while Buck provides the grounding. His emotional honesty rises to the top, but then her ethereal vocals, mostly in French, can transform the songs to find a more objective perspective.

The give and take keeps either voice from drowning out the other. Buck often syncopates his flow to augment the solid beat of the backing track, but Lê in turn takes his vocals and mutates it into more fodder for the mix. Exotic and solid, organic and electro-mechanical, tight with tension and freely floating – the dynamic balance holds your attention for the whole duration.

The album eases into view with a gentle, ambient track, appropriately titled “Intro”. The calm heartbeat and soft washes provide little preparation for the slick armored sound of the first real song, “Full Moon”, which is built on a foundation of Berlin-style synth pop. The steady pulsation creates a delicious tension. The pair sets up a cool trick they’ll use throughout the whole album, alternating Lê’s softly-echoed feminine vocals with the harder edge of Buck’s tightly wound male bass. The tagline, “Who can sleep, at a time like this,“ repeats, evolving from simple observation to indignant accusation before Lê mutilates her sweetly floating vocal line and moves the song into a more modern glitch electronica.

That caught my ear, but a couple of songs later, “Heart As Hell” sealed the deal. Built on a thoughtful, electro-pop base with tentative brushes of reverberating piano, the initial singing is distant and dreamy, more of a memory than a lead line. Buck’s lyrics are somber and emotionally bare, “I have two hearts and one of them is hard as Hell.” His imagery is beautifully economic, fitting a lot into the tight rhyming runs: “It’s vertigo in reverse/ Devoted and cursed/ It hurts/ Exploded and worse.” A ratcheting drumbeat clicks like the clock ticking away his time. The second verse flowers into a longer series, maintaining flow and rhythm, relentlessly checking off an inventory of dissatisfaction. It culminates in a bitter, “Sometimes the mind is paradise/ And the heart is Hell.” At this point, the production processes Buck’s voice and blends it into the electro substrate. The constant see-saw of “heart” and “hard” creates its own ambiguity. The moodiness ripples across the remaining tracks.

“Heart As Hell” proved to be my favorite track, but there are plenty of other strong contenders. The motorik drive and introspective lyrics of “Ethereal Love” make it a standout tune. “Stay Close Until We Reach The End” is also compelling as it builds on a droning start with creepy shards of disquiet as Lê’s chopped and damaged vocals page through a catalog of despair française, “Désillusion/ Fatale/ Tragédie…”. When Buck comes in with his precisely off-kilter delivery, the disturbing quality deepens.

By the time So Much Forever closes on “Outro” and its faster heartbeat, it’s impossible to say which of the two collaborators is figure or ground because the contributions are so interdependent. Bike For Three! may not be as confrontational as Kanye’s Yeezus, but it’s just as strong an artistic statement.

(This review first appeared on Spectrum Culture)

History lesson - MC Paul Barman, Paullelujah! (2002)

Quirky and clever - erudite juvenalia

Working in the cube-farms of corporate America in 2002, pleasures were hard to come by and distraction was a blessing. I don’t even know where I first came across “Cock Mobster”, but I do remember being gobsmacked. It wasn’t the crudity of the juvenile humor as MC Paul Barman checked off women from his fantasy black book ; it was the mix of cultural references and wicked sharp rhymes. Name checking The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam and KRS-One’s “Rappaz R.N. Dainja” in the same verse blew my mind. The combination of audacity and rolling rhymes in lines like “My dandy voice makes the most anti-choice granny’s panties moist” was staggering.

Immediately looking for more, I bought Paullelujah! directly from his web site. Then I found out that Prince Paul (De La Soul) and MF DOOM had produced some of the tracks. It wasn’t until a year or two later that I realized that Barman had provided the brief, but inspired interlude “Meet Cleofis Randolph the Patriarch” for Deltron 3030 (2000). Paullelujah! showed that his quirky delivery and the satisfying linguistic gymnastics were no fluke; the album was packed with more of the same thing that grabbed me in the first place: scatological humor aimed at a 14-year-old audience blended with superior lyrics and a crazy quilt of cultural allusions. Without a doubt, it was a flawed, uneven collection, but I had to respect Barman’s talent as a wordsmith and unbridled creative force.

The opening seconds of Paullelujah! immediately overturn the usual rap stereotypes. Instead of swagger and a heavy beat, Barman drops any pretense of cool and gleefully proclaims, “Check it out, man. It’s the best day of my life! The MC Paul Barman full-length is finally out,” over Handel’s “Hallelujah Chorus”, which he shortly hijacks and repurposes to hype the album title. It’s the first of many goofy moments and it does make it harder to take him seriously as a hip hop artist. But what should we expect? A white Jewish kid who graduated from Brown University is hardly likely to pull off a gangsta pose. Instead, Barman follows the age-old advice to write what he knows and that includes everything from literature he picked up in school to the uncomfortable contradictions of self-righteously liberal middle class politics. And mostly being a smartass. So, he skewers the local anarchist bookstore scene after name-checking John Cage and Jeff Koons in “Excuse You” and it’s all of one fabric.

When confronted with the question of cultural appropriation that faces every middle class, Caucasian rapper, Barman has his own unique response. On “Old Paul,” he tackles it head on, first asking “Is it ‘cause I go for the laugh?/ Because I’m not from the Ave? Because I target the fans that you wish you didn’t have?”. It’s a cogent point, hitting at hip hop’s discomfort with white popularity. But he follows up with some soul searching: “Had I made a mockery of a culture, like the Choco Taco?/ Was I to rap as France was to Morocco?/ Was I colon rap colon colon France colon Morocco?” Those lines do it all. They capture humor, racial guilt, a desire to be sensitive and also his geeky self-expression, breaking down the analogy to the format of an SAT question.

Paullelujah! is full of Easter eggs like this. He also manages to shoehorn in palindromes and incorporate a Buckminster Fuller song into “Bleeding Brain Grow”. If anything, Barman is a bit too eager to prove how clever he can be. He is sharp, but he often sacrifices meaning to satisfy a lyrical formula or he’ll drop into lowbrow humor to get a cheap laugh. This gives the album a weird kind of dynamic balance. His twisty rhyming passages demand a lot of attention and often trigger a sense that you know there’s a joke in there somewhere if you can take the time to unfold them. Then, about the time he’s worn you down enough to surrender to his multisyllabic onslaught, he throws a change up like “Burping & Farting.” To some extent, that makes Paullelujah! a novelty album, but it’s one that still stands the test of time; a dozen years after my first listen and I just caught the math mnemonic reference in “PEM Das EFX” from “Excuse You”.

(This review first appeared in Spectrum Culture)

Front Range recommended shows, 4/14

It looks like Cervantes is the place this week, but there's still a tough decision: reggae or hip hop? Both of these are old school performers with some strong material. I'll also take a moment to pay respect to Cervantes for being such a fine venue for both reggae and rap. They regularly serve up great acts at the top of their game as well as classic voices.


Wednesday, 16 April (Cervantes Masterpiece, Denver CO)
Pato Banton

I first heard Pato Banton through my interest in the second-wave ska band, The English Beat. By the late '80s, he was showing up on my radar and he had a minor hit with "Don't Sniff Coke". I've always enjoyed his flow and laid back grooves. It's been a long time since I saw him at Reggae on the Rocks (Red Rocks), but I'm glad that he's still active.

Wednesday, 16 April (Cervantes Other Side, Denver CO)
Six Mix-A-Lot

Sure, "Baby Got Back" was a party time anthem back in the early '90s (although I'm partial to Jonathan Coulton's acoustic cover), but Sir Mix-A-Lot was more than just a novelty act. His stage persona always played big on style, attitude, and wit. He's also been a good ambassador for hip hop, finding interesting partnerships with other genres to break down walls.

Concert review - Whiskey Blanket with Dropswitch, Bigwheel Electrosoul, The Quick & Easy Boys, and Rolphy

2 November 2013 (Cervantes Other Side, Denver CO)

Billed as CD release party for Whiskey Blanket's latest, From the Dead of Dark (review), the lineup featured a grab bag of artistic and musical approaches with younger and more experience players. From stripped down rap to multimedia performance art, the opening acts offered wide-ranging contrasts to the headliners, which made for an full-scale evening of entertainment. The CD release itself was understated, although Whiskey Blanket's set was anything but that.

The pickings for photos are a bit thin - note to self: remember to grab the spare battery before you're miles from home.

Rolphy

The night started out low key with a young rapper named Rolphy. Backed by simple laptop grooves, he hit the stage with reasonable confidence. His earnest, slightly self-conscious delivery suited his entry-level raps, creating a sympathetic vibe with the audience. Plenty of his friends came out to support him and helped fill out the small crowd. The high point of his set was a female guest singer who added a soul pop texture and gave him something stronger to build on.

The Quick & Easy Boys

The Quick & Easy Boys were the odd ducks on a slate of largely hip-hop artists. They were a solid blues funk trio without a trace of rap style. Still, their danceable grooves and strong performance made them a good fit with Whiskey Blanket's audience. They've found some success in their hometown of Portland, but they're trying to make their mark in the Denver market, taking any opportunity they can find to build a following. They'll be back again at Cervantes on November 11 for Grass for That Ass, with Whiskey Tango. It'll be worth catching them then to appreciate their funky soul, which owes a debt of gratitude to Joe Walsh and the James Gang.


All three players are masters of their instruments, adept at finding that balance between show-off skill and nailing the tight arrangements. This is especially important for a trio, where the guitar has to walk the line between lead and rhythm and the bass and drums have to work just a little bit harder to fill out the sound. The Quick & Easy Boys laid down a driving wall of music, packed with back beat and sweaty grind, but the pop-flavored singing contrasted with the grit. Vocal duties bounced around, but the bass player Sean Badders seemed to lead most of the tunes. He was a big guy, but he had a surprising falsetto that gave some of the tunes a BeeGees flavor.


The band was comfortable on stage, with a great sense of performance. They stayed in motion and sold their joy at playing. Jimmy Russell was especially fun as he flipped the guitar behind his head for rhythm and lead jams or wrenched out a melodic line with his whole body. That said, the band needs to improve their crowd work. The music and show were fine, but more between song patter or direct engagement would help them build the audience connection they seek.

Bigwheel Electrosoul

Bigwheel Electrosoul is a performance art project associated with Denver artist/producer DJ Check One (Dameion Hines) that he has described as "guided ambiguous live music." Melding live instruments with pre-recorded tracks, the group started with a foundation of mashed up and mutated music to create the main groove. The tracks sampled both obscure and better-known songs; Hines jammed along on drums while his partner added synthesizer accents.


The projection screen was interesting, especially when it ditched the music videos and took a long graphic exploration of the Mandelbrot set fractals. But after a while I found myself waiting for something more. The idea itself was promising, but it needed to offer more surprises. While it might be an easy step to get more experimental on the pre-fab side , I think that it would be better to take the live component into a wilder space. That might be more effective for engaging the audience for a longer set.

Drop Switch

By the time Drop Switch hit the stage, the crowd was swelling and ready to dance. Their opening song set a reggae groove and their rapper, Logistixx, tossed off a speedy toasting style vocal. Song by song, he and the rest of the band showed off their musical range, mixing up styles like a shuffled deck of cards. The one-drop rhythm gave way to a hip-hop beat, which veered into heavier rock punch. The high point came with their cover of "The Distance" by Cake; the band's cathartic thrash on the chorus spurred the audience on. Logistixx did a good job of making John McCrea's vocal line his own.


Drop Switch had clearly spent time working out their arrangements, creating moments of synchronous bliss as the bass, sax, and guitar riffs slipped into lockstep. The upside was the tight coordination between the instruments, but the downside is that the group presented a fairly static tableau. Most of the band's visual appeal came from sax player's humorous mugging and the singer's nervous physical energy. Logistixx stayed in almost constant motion, dominating the band's stage presence with swagger and restless movement. Channeling that tension gave him rapid fire phrasing for his raps.


Near the end of the set, Drop Switch followed Rolphy's lead and brought up a female guest singer. The band played a reggae flavored jam that let her show off a soulful style. She stayed up for the last tune, providing a smooth contrast to the percussive rap lead and jazzy hip-hop beat.

Whiskey Blanket

Every time I see this band, they floor me with how much they've progressed as performers. At this point, they're hitting a level well beyond their regional Colorado home crowd, with an innate sense of entertainment. Hip-hop is all about flow, lyrics, and the musical backdrop, but in a live setting, it really demands an extra spark to make it pop. Merely spitting out some solid lyrics to a backing track is not enough to hold a crowd. That's why the big-time rappers develop such large stage personas. They posture and strut; they draw on that image to drive their show.


Whiskey Blanket has personality in spades, with each member bringing his own special sauce, but they push well beyond that with inspired musical performance and a unique artistic perspective. Beat boxing, cello, wicked turntablism, and violin come together to create a sonic fingerprint that stands alone. Sloppy Joe, Steakhouse and Funny Biz each have impressive technical skills that add excitement to the show. On top of that, they've honed a three-prong vocal attack that recalls groups like the Beastie Boys or Run DMC.


Saturday night's set showcased the band at the top of their game. Their performance was choreographed with a natural eye to showmanship. Tightly coordinated raps bounced the lead between the three like the Harlem Globetrotters passing the ball. They worked the stage like veteran actors, with every movement blocked for maximum effect. It wasn't just the big motions, like Funny Biz taking a pratfall drop or Sloppy Joe reeling back from a stage slap; even the smallest facial expressions and body language supported the moment. In lesser hands, this could have easily been wooden or overplanned, but Whiskey Blanket made it look effortless with casual aplomb.


The musical twists and turns were every bit as engaging as the acting. The set flowed through new and old material, with spaghetti Western twang giving way to jazzy beats or street classical mashups. Rap sections hit hard and heavy, then transitioned to chamber music inspired instrumentals or bluegrass fiddle riffs. In keeping with the CD release, they led off the show with "The Story Unfolds", filling out the pre-recorded arrangement with live strings and a guest trumpet player. Aside from some sharp turntable work, Steakhouse got into the act with his keyboard. Seeing them integrate the live instruments into the mix was reassuring because From the Dead of Dark didn't showcase that aspect of the band. Whiskey Blanket went on to perform several songs from the album, transforming them for the stage. "Blotto Nox" was stunning, with lyrics whipping by at a pace that made the original's rapid fire rap seem almost stately. "Dinner With Ghouls" kept the slower pace from the album, but also loosened the flow so they could work the crowd a bit more.


They cherry-picked through their back catalog for material to split up the new songs. Even here, they controlled the pace of the show and the ambiance. So, the dark moodiness from "Improper Paradise" (Credible Forces) and the introspection from No Object's "Pound Boom" each found common ground with the newest material. By the end of the show, they were wrung out and ready for the break. The last treat was a Funny Biz freestyle rap. As members of the audience held up objects, he riffed off what he saw, proving that the band's skills weren't just delimited by scripted pre-calculation.


It's worth mentioning that the first time I saw Whiskey Blanket, some unknown Seattle emcee named Macklemore was opening for them. Now, he's earned his spot on the national stage. These guys deserve the same kind of exposure.

More photos on my Flickr

Recording review - Whiskey Blanket, From the Dead of Dark (2013)

Artistic risks pay off on this spaghetti Western concept album

Brothers and sisters, would you willingly throw away your crutches? The hip-hop band Whiskey Blanket has built a unique sound around their quirky mix of beatboxing, orchestral instruments, and atypical backing music.And it was just that gimmicky blend that initially hooked me to the group. Their newest album, From the Dead of Dark, shows off the band's self-confidence as they blithely discard two of those three elements: no rapid-fire beatbox rhythms and a complete absence of street-classical mashup grooves. With well-founded faith, they rely on their solid raps and musical vision to carry the album. Their last project, No Object (2010), offered a growth spurt of lyrical continuity and production over 2007's Credible Forces. But on their latest drop, they've raised their sights and created a concept album tied together with a pervasive musical thread while they continue to tap into a surprising set of genres for their backing tracks. Where No Object emphasized a jazzy feel along with the classical touches, From the Dead of Dark draws on spaghetti Westerns and Eastern European jazz elements for a cohesive sound.

Shadows fill the album, with moody music and horrorshow touches of zombies and ghouls. The embedded storyline -- three of the tracks are explicitly identified as chapter one, two, and three -- is oblique, but interesting. The first track, "The Story Unfolds (Ch. 1)", introduces a boy who becomes cynical about people and turns towards darkness. Several songs later, "Hell & High Water (Ch. 2)" tells the story of a woman who breaks her lover out of prison to save his life. Finally, "City of Shadows (Ch. 3)" rounds out the triptych with a tale of the zombie apocalypse where the hero dies, but passes on his torch to a mysterious, bloody "angel". The narrative thread may be hard to find, but musical motifs tie the pieces together, allowing the listener to draw their own connections between the three.

From the Dead of Dark stakes out its ground from the start. A simple piano vamps through the changes, ornamented with a whistled melody and light harmonica. "The Story Unfolds"? Well, it unfolds patiently as the band builds this into a full blown soundtrack layered with guitar, horns, and choral accompaniment. They drag the instrumental introduction out for almost two minutes before letting the lyrics drop:

We start life not knowing much,
Unaware of what it's like to be grown up
This story unfolds with a boy and his soul
And an idea that would play a poisonous role
Now he's not your typical archetype
Lost child, brought up on bibles and market hype
Nah, he's the antithesis of orthodox
Who's seen the dissonance of people livin' in Pandora's Box...

This opening is delivered loosely, rhymes slipping into place with just a little room to move. Once the rock beat kicks in, the lyrical flow picks up speed, jumping between the rappers and pulling the words into the beat.

The next track is more unsettling, starting with a trippy, back-masked loop before locking into steady beat with retro easy-listening vocal touches and a scratched and chopped musical track. The album really wakes up, though, on the Euro-jazz inspired "Blotto Nox". The rap revs up right out of the gate and never slows down. With a freestyle flow, each of the guys take their turn kicking the mic, chaining internal rhymes and overwhelming the ear. Gypsy violins and turntable scratches lay down a wonderfully exotic groove that provides all the syncopation and rhythmic complexity an emcee could ever need.

The next track, "Dinner With Ghouls", adds its own musical twist, blending early jazz with a bit of big band: "This is zombie surf-punk, hip Goth, Gypsy pop/ Indie rock, traded in the synth for a Lindy Hop". The delivery is slower paced, but that gives the audience more time to appreciate the clever phrases as they roll by. This song also features a sung chorus that contributes to the big band feel while it shows off the band's harmonies.

Next up, jam-folker Bonnie Paine (Elephant Revival) reprises her guest role from No Object to sing "Hell & High Water (Ch. 2)". The lonesome Western arrangement complements her sultry voice, which summons up the ghosts of missed opportunity with the tagline, "It's too late, too late, too late/ Now the deed is done." The band's artistic decision here is telling. From the Dead of Dark is indisputably a hip-hop album, full  of solid, textbook rapping, but although this track sets a hip-hop beat behind the moody music,  it lets Paine's singing take center stage. Surprises like this push out some boundaries, but that's not the band's end goal. Instead, it just flows out of their off-beat aesthetic of building interesting backing tracks and bringing them to the foreground.

Whiskey Blanket's creative risks were definitely worth the effort. From the Dead of Dark doesn't limp along without the band's crutches; it dances and breaks. Throughout it all, the boys show off their emcee skills. The chemistry between the three members offers plenty of change up, but their parts are carefully crafted to join in perfect balance. I'm still hoping for their classic stunts during the show, like Funny Biz's one-two beatbox-cello punch, but I'm happy to hear them develop their sound. This is a band that deserves much wider distribution.

For a taste of the dark, enjoy the album trailer.

Immortal Technique & Brother Ali, with Poison Pen, I Self Devine, Hasan Salaam, and J Arch

18 September 2013 (Gothic Theatre, Denver CO)

The great thing about a classic hip hop show is that it's non-stop. There are no breaks where the audience has to talk among themselves waiting for the next act. This keeps the energy constant, but it requires a pretty large crew of entertainers and pacing is important. The War & Peace Tour, featuring Immortal Technique and Brother Ali was a nicely executed example. Not only did the headliners have different styles, but the lineup was split between their hometowns. Brother Ali had a fellow Minneapolis act, I Self Devine, on the bill, while the rest of the performers represented New York. This personality split helped keep the evening interesting.

Opening acts

Brooklyn rapper, Poison Pen, played the host for the evening. After a brief bit of interaction, he brought the first act, J. Arch, to the stage. His set was fairly short, but he made a good impression. His preferred delivery was to let the syllables roll in waves. He was a big man, but he had a good sense of humor. After joking that he could pass for security, his punchline was to reveal his marijuana print t-shirt. Of course, that means a lot less now in Colorado than it used to.

Following J. Arch, Hasan Salaam took the stage. I hadn't heard him before, but he impressed with some wicked, rapid-fire spitting. No one-trick pony, he did a good job of breaking up the pace by occasionally dropping back and preaching in a Michael Franti style slowdown. He laid down a steady stream of conscious lyrics. One of the stand outs, ".1911" was from his 2011 album, Music Is My Weapon. It featured old school references, name checking Malcolm X and Bobby Seale. But more impressively, Salaam dug deeper, comparing the message of his song to the anti-slavery incitement of David Walker's An Appeal to the Coloured Citizens of the World.

The balance shifted from the East Coast to the Midwest when I Self Devine (Chaka Mkali) stepped up. He had a partner with him whose name I never caught, which is a shame because his emphasis gave I Self Devine's lines an extra zing. The lead off song was an acapella rap that laid out his personal story. The two performers created a strong presence as they often turning face-to-face and locked into a long series of twinned lyrics. I Self Devine also set up a good contrast between his hard-edged delivery and the sweet R&B backing grooves. It was a long set, which gave us plenty of time to appreciate I Self Devine's smooth personal patter as he shared a lot of his personality.

Finally, our host, Poison Pen came out and showed off his own solid style. His flow had a strong change-up rhythm that broke up the lines. After inviting local rapper Black Pegasus to take the stage for an acapella, he brought out Hasan Salaam and J. Arch to back him. The stage dynamic and shifting support  gave his set an old-school feel.

It's worth mentioning the DJs at this point. Two different guys provided the beats for the full show, DJ G.I. Joe and DJ Todda. Each did a good job of adapting to the feel of the individual rappers and hyping the crowd.

Brother Ali

The energy amped up when Brother Ali came out. He was incredibly charismatic, effortlessly working the crowd and creating a low-key physical demeanor offset by a seriously intense presence. His set bridged from his personal character and history to the over-arching messages that he built up. This was called the War & Peace Tour and Brother Ali started out working the war angle. Songs like "Truth Is" brought the theme of control and resistance, but he could still touch on personal moments within that context. So, a story about how he and Immortal Technique first toured together at the start of Brother Ali's career developed into first a riff on the music industry and then a full on diatribe.

"Mourning In America" from last year's release proved to be a powerful set-piece for Ali's skills. Earnest and serious, his flow was relentless, the progression of lines rolling out like an inevitable tide. He also performed his controversial "Uncle Sam Goddamn" and tossed off some timely improvised lines about Syria into the anti-Government screed. This socio-political theme became a callback for much of the set. A little later, he asserted, "You cannot love hip hop if you do not love the people who created it." This spawned a lecture on white privilege and race issues, but Ali was preaching to the choir. Still, it led smoothly into the next song.

This easy progression in the setlist was a constant indication of how well-planned Brother Ali's show was. He maintained a deliberate pace and hit all his marks, but it never felt lifeless or rote. Disruptions happened, but didn't derail the set. During an acapella of "Stop the Press",  Ali took a more conversational tone than the album version, which turned it into an confessional sharing about the challenges in his life, including his father's suicide. A guy up front was breaking the mood, but Ali deftly handled him. It wasn't a heckle, but it required some crowd work and Brother Ali kept the emphasis positive as he took back his moment.

After hitting on a couple of relationship raps and mentioning his crazy ex-wife, he shouted out to the ReMINDers, a Denver rap act, before laying down a soulful version of "You Say (Puppy Love)". Then, he made a sharp, overt shift to take the show into a party mood. This was an effective transition, moving from war to cover the peace side. The positive tip wrapped up on his song, "Forrest Whitaker". While he sang the chorus: "I'ma be all right/ You ain't gotta be my friend tonight," the crowd tagged it on command. "You ain't gotta love me!" But, of course we did.

Immortal Technique

If Brother Ali made even the political seem personal, Immortal Technique was a demagogue, alternately preaching, ranting, and inciting. His New York crew, Poison Pen, Hasan Salaam, and J. Arch, came out to support him, filling the stage. This created a busier, livelier set that emphasized the differences between the two artists. Each man had a focused aura of intensity, strong vocal skills, and sharp lyrics that covered the same messages of an unrepresentative government, historical injustice, corporate greed, and a vampiric music industry. But Brother Ali's grounded confidence contrasted sharply with Immortal Technique's fiery righteousness.

The constant motion onstage and Immortal Technique's confrontational style pushed the energy in the hall to new heights. Where Brother Ali, held the audience rapt, Immortal Technique goaded the crowd to form a mosh pit and fed off their zeal. His flow complemented this; he tended to alternate slower lines and faster riffs, letting him build up his raps into a powerful drive. At times, his delivery was belligerent, packed with attitude and personality, but it fit his sharply turned words.

His patter had a loose feel, even if he was leading to a particular point. A great example started as a comparison between rap and culture. "Hat, cat, rat, fat... that's rap" Rather than mere rhyming, he asserted that culture is about who you are. He worked this theme, rising in intensity before declaring, "Hip hop started with a motherfucking DJ," cuing DJ G.I. Joe to kick loose with a phenomenal demonstration of turntable skills. He started simple, just working up a scratched beat with flare and transform accents. Then he graduated into some impressive beat juggling before upping the ante with a crazy set of stage moves. 360 degree spins, over the shoulder scratches, and cross handed manipulation -- DJ G.I. Joe made it look easy and never skipped a beat.

This break served as a palate cleanser, readying the audience for more of Immortal Technique's raps. Once again, his setups were strong. His introduction for "Freedom of Speech" started out with him taking credit for breaking the NSA invasion of privacy scandal years ago. He built this into a rhetorical question about how could he still be alive if he's such a threat to the government? The sample of Pinocchio singing "I've Got No Strings" served as his answer as he rolled into the song, which excoriates the music biz and challenges the powers that be.

The strongest song in his show was "Dance with the Devil", which drops into a dark well of rape, murder, and suicide. It was a hard, ugly moment, but he used it like a boot camp for the crowd. He tore us open and drained us in order to rebuild us and sell the positive aspect of his message. Throughout the night, his raps fell somewhere between a sermon and rage against an unjust society, but he kept redirecting that into admonitions to act morally, to step up and protect the weak, and to stand for right.

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Concert review - The Pimps of Joytime, with Mlima and Funkma$ter

31 August 2013 (Cervantes Other Side, Denver CO)

Always pay attention to the details... I was excited when I heard that the Pimps of Joytime were hitting Colorado again. I carefully noted the time and place and made arrangements to come down to Denver for the show. At the last minute, I found out that I could  have saved a drive: they played at the New Belgium Brewing's Tour de Fat party earlier the same day in my town of Ft. Collins. I'm not sure how their set went in FC, but they took their time and banged out a long set at Cervantes. So, I'm not feeling too bad about my choices.

This was the first of two nights for the band, acting as the after-party for the Phish show at Dick's Sporting Goods Park at Commerce City.

Funkma$ter and friends

I seem to catch one-man band Funkma$ter (Matt Grundstad) about once every couple of years and each time I'm more impressed. His 2009 show with That 1 Guy (review) demonstrated his technical competence with his instruments and looping, but lacked a strong stage presence. By 2011, opening for John Popper (review), his technique was stronger and he did a better job of engaging the audience, but he still had trouble managing the flow of building layers and entertaining at the same time. This weekend, he proved that he's overcome these limitations.


In part, he owes some credit to the vocalists that joined him on stage. Three rappers, EZ, Spellbinder, and MCbig House, brought hype and harmony to the show. Their contrasting styles alone added a lot to the mix. EZ had a classic hip hop style, with a smooth cadence and good versatility that allowed for some soul. Standing center stage, he was laid back and balanced the bouncier energy that Spellbinder exuded. Spellbinder favored more of a world riddem style, toasting over reggae grooves and spitting out some speedy lines. MCbig House, by contrast, was a more solid presence. His lower timbre and more serious look added gravitas to the line up. Other contributors stepped in briefly to add their own voices, adding to the show's fluid energy.


But even with surprise guests and loose patter on stage, this wasn't a casual throwdown. The group had clearly developed material that traded on the members'strengths and gave each one some showcase moments. Funkma$ter himself has developed as a performer, too. Even though his posse helped cover during the layering process, he has become adept enough to split his attention between his playing and the crowd. So, a lot more of his personality came through and connected.


As the group ran through a fun mix of hip hop, reggae, and funk pieces, the crowd ate it up. Dr. Dre's "Let Me Ride" had the audience singing along while Funkma$ter mixed his loop like a DJ, picking which elements to emphasize. Another great song was a cover of Don Carlos' "Young Girl".


Funkma$ter and Friends had a solid set, from the sparsely crowded opening to the mass dancing party at the end. They proved to be a stronger match for the headliner than the band that followed them.

Mlima

Haters deride jam bands for empty noodling and self-indulgent songs that drag on forever. I've defended bands like Phish and Umphrey's McGee as a modern day take on jazz traditions, pointing out their technical prowess at creating intricate arrangements and deftly controlling song dynamics.


Given the Phish connection for this show, it probably made sense to bring in a jam band. I don't think that it was a great fit for the Pimps of Joytime, either musically or personality-wise, but the crowd seemed to enjoy the set well enough. To their credit, Denver's Mlima had fine technical chops and managed some tight dynamic shifts. They were well practiced and, unfortunately, they were boring.


The music itself wasn't lacking; their guitarist, Doug Litvak, is phenomenally talented and his virtuoso playing carried many of the songs. The problem is that the band was too inwardly focused, making it hard to relate to them. Each player was in his own world, locked into his own part. Aside from occasional glances and nods, there was little acknowledgment between the players and almost no interaction with the audience.


Since the music was all instrumental, the only verbal communication came during pianist Matt Telsey's terse moments of stage patter between songs. After reassuring himself that we were still excited to see the Pimps of Joytime soon, he'd briefly mention the next song's title. Sure, there are plenty of examples of strong entertainers performing solely instrumental music. But in the cases where they aren't big conversationalists -- Miles Davis comes to mind -- they can still radiate an intensity during their playing. For the most part, Mlima only mustered a sense of preoccupation.


Nick Miller's percussion work was the one standout exception, because he exuberantly attacked each song. He was still primarily locked in his own headspace, but it looked like a fairly interesting place. In comparison, Litvak consistently laid down some jaw dropping riffs, but rarely expressed more than a vague distraction.


Mlima should take a lesson from Phish. If they set up the songs with stories or, at the least, moved with the music and expressed some passion and personality, then they'd have a much stronger act. They have the talent to milk some acid funk intensity out of a simple four measure looped progression; they should be able to make it more of a show.

The Pimps of Joytime

If there's one thing that the Pimps of Joytime have going for them, it's personality and passion. Those two things alone would be enough to power a great performance, but they throw in tight arrangements, smoking chops, booty shaking beats, and catchy songs that stick in your brain.


The band came out kicking ass, immediately diving into a solid funk jam with cool Latin percussion. After getting everybody moving, they dropped back into a Sly Stone groove for "My Gold". Frontman Brian J squinched in tight and laid down a sweet falsetto vocal for what turned into a soul funk dance party. When the time came to solo, he launched into a spaced-out psychedelic lead that sparked the crowd. He was an expressive player, posing to match either the sound he's wrenching from his guitar or the mood of the song. Even when he dropped back to let someone else drive, he danced along to stay fully connected.


While the Pimps of Joytime make funky soul their home base, they didn't handcuff themselves to it. Instead, they branched out into other realms, like blues, pyschedelia, and synth-pop. Their aim was to keep the audience moving and engaged with the music. Little tricks, such as sampled vocal snippets and electronic beats, were used to offer up surprises and liven up the songs. So, a track like "Keep That Music Playin'" at first suggested a P-Funk jam, but then keyboard washes and percussive samples took it somewhere new.


It was a show full of great songs, but I think my favorite piece was "San Francisco Bound". It started out mellow, with trippy keyboard riffs and heavily reverbed guitar, sort of like the Doors jamming with soul legend Shuggie Otis. Once the band set their hypnotic groove, Brian J let his guitar go exploring the space they created. Eventually the song evolved into a Zappa-esque jam reminiscent of "Dirty Love" (Overnite Sensation - 1973).


After "San Francisco Bound", most of the band took a break, leaving the bass player to cut loose on his synthesizer set up. After an extended electronic jam, the drummer came back out and joined in. This led to the best visual moment of the show. During the drum solo, the lights shifted color and strobed to match. The tight coordination as every syncopated beat was reflected in the light show was amazing.


As the rest of the band came back out, it was hard to imagine that there was still about another hour left in their set. These guys rocked it non-stop, demonstrating why they are one of the world's best touring bands. After a certain point, there was less motivation to track the individual songs. Instead, it was best to live in the moment, appreciating each punchy bassline, each sinuous percussion syncopation, and each speedy drum fill. Throughout it all, Brian J played ringmaster, raising his hands exultantly or seeing how nasty he could treat his guitar.


It was a long drive back home to Ft. Collins, but I was happy to have found my own joytime that night.

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