Britain’s leading hip hop journalist. Not.

Jay-Z: He Came, He Saw, He Conquered

I’m gonna kick this post off by upping my street credibility by like, a gazillion: my mother texted me to let me know about Tuesday night’s BBC arts documentary that propounded to explore “the life and work of the chart topping rapper and multi-millionaire businessman Jay-Z.” Great, I thought: it’s rare that we get any decent coverage of American hip hop in the British mass media; I really like Jay-Z (duh); I’m intrigued by how his Glastonbury set was ultimately so well received and believe that there’s quite a lot to consider as a British fan of the genre about the way that we - as a nation - interact and engage with American rap.

And it’s not because I think there’s anything particularly lofty at stake here as we already know that rap is global and Jay is one of its leading figureheads, but up until last June my parents and their friends had never really spoken or inquired about the man and now they do (I approach this shit scientific-like). It may not seem it for those of you across the pond, but that seems like a pretty big deal to me because I would say that Jay-Z is the first American rapper to cross over to that extent in this country, where Jonathon Ross interviews him and pretty much everyone knows who he is. I guess Hammer may have done it back in the day, but what we’re talking about here is ‘real’ hip hop and one of its key proprietors becoming a part of the everyday collective consciousness in this country.

So this could have been good, and to be fair in places the program worked reasonably well. Some of the interview segments with Jay were enjoyable as were the clips of footage from gigs in L.A., Las Vegas and New York, but unfortunately that was about it as the remainder of the show’s content was blighted by two key factors. Firstly, presenter Alan Yentob who I’m sure is a very culturally informed man outside of hip hop knew next to squat about Jay-Z or his music and secondly, at times the focus for this documentary strayed too far away from the music and tried to get ‘in deep’ about his other interests only to expose the distance between interviewer and interviewee even further. Cringe-worthy moments included the pair wandering through an art gallery which made Jay look kind of stupid (which he clearly isn’t) and Mr. Yentob incredibly uncomfortable (which presumably he was) and Yentob commenting on Jay’s compositional process of feeding off a beat “freeing up the lyrical flow.” I’m sorry old man, but I just ain’t buying it.

I guess the problem is that the aesthetics and legacy of hip hop at a core level feel in some ways distinctly at odds with what it is to be British, or at least certainly at odds with the BBC’s version of Britishness. It’s what makes me slightly uneasy telling people that I’m into rap music in this country because certainly for the majority of the population, they don’t get it and I don’t blame them. On the surface, Jay-Z’s music is too gawdy, too brash and his persona too overtly materialistic to be taken seriously by middle Britain and that’s why what this documentary needed was somebody who could in some way bridge the gap between these two worlds and make sense of it in some way. Ultimately, by placing a stuffy, middle-aged intellectual as interviewer Jay-Z: He Came, He Saw, He Conquered only served to highlight the disparity between American rap and your average Brit and in all probability left most viewers feeling even more bemused by Jay-Z, his popularity and his role in global popular culture.

Yentob started the documentary with the statement, “If there’s one rapper you need to know about it’s him.” Alan, if you’re out there, name three other rappers that someone might need to know about in 2008. Nope? Didn’t think so. If the BBC wants to be cool and informed then that’s great, but it seems like a bit of a no-brainer that if you plan on this sort of coverage you should probably get someone involved who has a vague understanding of the subject at hand in the first place. Seriously, I’m available whenever.

Freddie Foxxx - ‘So Tough’
taken from Crazy Like A Foxxx (Fat Beats, 2008)

For some reason unbeknown to me I’m yet to throw up a link to my Freddie Foxxx interview that dropped over at Jeff’s spot. Missed it? Get there immediately.

I’m deep into The Wire season 5 after finally managing to get a hold of the whole box set. If you think I’ve got time to blog ‘proper’ then you’ve got another thing coming. Drop a comment that reveals anything and I will hunt you down, I swear.

Whilst this continues, let me refer you elsewhere:

Flood brings it with a recipe and suggested aural accompaniment.

Doc Zeus takes on XXL’s freshman MCs list.

Eric continues his Top 100 of the year.

Robbie’s got a nice overview of the ubiquitous ‘Nautilus’ break.

Joey takes a look at some new hip hop jawns.

Metal Lungies revisit their Alchemist beat drop.

“The game’s the game” - Marlo Stanfield

The Menahan Street Band - ‘The Contender’ & ‘Montego Sunset’
taken from Make The Road By Walking (Dunham, 2008)

I’ve never been quite sure what it is about the seasons and musical appreciation, but ask any music geek and they’ll tell you that their enjoyment of a particular song or artist can change radically depending on whether the sun beams brightly or if foul winds whip through frosty, winter-clad streets. I guess it ultimately comes down to an issue that extends beyond the meteorological: enjoyment of music is often context-bound. Sure, The Infamous sounds fantastic when traveling home alone on the London Underground at midnight, but blasting it from the terrace of your holiday home in Tuscany? Not so much. One can only dream of putting this theory through an extensive and rigorous testing process…

And so it was with a sense of trepidation that I approached the long awaited release from the hopelessly cool Brooklyn based ensemble known as The Menahan Street Band. Well-established connections with Daptone and Truth And Soul suggest the pedigree of what’s on offer here, as does the relatively widely known song flipped by LV and Sean C for Jay-Z’s ‘Roc Boys (And The Winner Is…)’ that provides the full-length with its moniker. I knew it was going to be good. However, I also thought that the record might ultimately not quite sit right in my current late October rotation as the nights continue to draw in and autumn rapidly mutates into winter. On a completely superficial level, I’d assumed that these soulful grooves might need the sunshine to succeed.

Thankfully, they don’t. If El Michels Affair’s Sounding Out The City is the perfect August kicker (and Leon Michels does play on this record as well), Make The Road By Walking feels equally at home in October with a warm soulful glow set off by a slightly darker and distinctly more autumnal edge. Lilting guitar licks and upbeat percussion are accompanied by the drama of smoldering horn tracks making the overall package feel delectably broody. ‘The Contender’ is perhaps the place in which this atmosphere is most beautifully realised and it’s when the band sound at their best, riding an infectious groove that feels bright yet smoky. But that’s not all that you can expect from this record as there’s a pleasing range of influences in the mix here that lend the album variety, the dubby sway of ‘Montego Sunset’ and the Latin American vibe of ‘Birds’ being the two most obvious examples. The sub 40 minute running time is well judged as without vocals the album could leave the listener a little stranded in monotony if it was any longer, but the arrangements are so wonderfully constructed and the vibe is just so nice that by the time it ends you’ll want to run through the whole thing again anyway.

Just as with the P Brothers’ album, this isn’t music that is trying to break the mould. At all. But what it does it does so well that its charms are impossible to resist and as such Make The Road By Walking is simply one of the most downright enjoyable records I’ve heard all year. Highly recommended as an accompaniment for the kicking of crispy brown leaves, bonfire attendance and beyond: get seasonal with it people.

P Brothers - ‘Outta Control’ ft. Roc Marciano & ‘In A Zone’ ft. Milano
taken from The Gas (Heavy Bronx, 2008)

(Excerpts at artist’s request)

P Brothers @ MySpace

Rap music in 2008 just ain’t grimy enough. Any long-winded criticism and discussion of the contemporary scene seems to conveniently pass over the fact that at a base level the aesthetics of the music have now, for the most part, become so polished and glossy that the very grittiness that defined the genre in the first place seems drowned by a swelling flood of auto-tune, pseudo-electronica and abstract post-lyrical rapping. Not that there’s anything wrong with that shit: it has its place and it’s taking things in an interesting (if at times questionable) direction that is clearly pushing the boundaries in order to more firmly establish hip hop’s next creative phase. Thank you messieurs West and Wayne: I appreciate the service you’re doing us all. Kinda, sorta.

However, all this stuff seems to miss the point a little for me. I listen to rap music because I want it to transport me to heaving basements where silky blunt smoke licks the inside of blacked-out windows. I want it to make me body slam a pensioner through a glass table and spit in their face for encouraging me to do so in the first place. I want to be moved into throwing Molotov cocktails into abandoned tenement buildings at midnight so I can stand back and watch them burn to the ground with bass and drums as my co-conspirators. Figuratively, that is. Nevertheless, I miss the unbridled aggression and ruggedness that was such an intrinsic part of the music in days gone by. The one crew that seems to understand this sentiment more than any other in 2008 is Nottingham’s very own DJs Ivory and Paul S, collectively known as the P Brothers. Who would have thought that Robin Hood’s stomping ground could produce something as sublimely raw as The Gas? Five boroughs pay attention: it’s the East Midlands who are stepping up to bring New York back.

Despite Robbie’s coverage of the crew over at Unkut, it seems valuable to briefly reflect on their output so far. Despite remembering Malcom McLaren’s ‘Buffalo Girls’ as “a big point early on” in this interview with ukhh.com from a couple of years ago, this is surprisingly the Brothers’ first full length album of their career. This isn’t to say that they haven’t been busy though, steadily dominating the well-established scene in Nottingham and pleasing more discerning UK heads with their Heavy Bronx Experience EPs and through regular collaborations with the Out Da Ville crew and protege Cappo, most notably on the overlooked 2003 release Spaz The World. They’ve dipped their toes into cross-Atlantic ventures as well, most recently working with Sadat X on Experience & Education on top of the string of 12″s that have preceded the release of this album with Boss Money, Milano, Smiley Da Ghetto Child and Ress Connected. Despite all of this you’d be forgiven for letting them slip under your radar, as it’s a position outside of the spotlight that feels entirely intentional. Showboating media-courters they ain’t and they’ve also managed to stay admirably clear of the tangible insecurities of the British scene that have been brought on by the towering shadow of its all-conquering older sibling. They just make great, universal hip hop music with no hidden agendas or chest-beating jingoism.

Onto the album. From start to finish (that’s right, the whole thing) The Gas represents a coherent cluster of cuts that are unabashedly hard and completely devoid of trend-pandering or gimmicks. ‘Cold World’ successfully sets the tone with a soulful vocal hook, melodic keys and crunchy drums that serve as the perfect platform for E.C. and Bago to get busy in style. From this point on there’s no letting up and although a discussion of every song on the album would be warranted, I’m going to stick to my personal highlights for the sake of your attention spans: ‘Outta Control’ puts forth the most mesmerising bassline I’ve heard since ‘It’s Bigger Than Hip Hop’; ‘Digital B-Boy’ marries together brutal drums and twisted digital noise in a veritable assault on your inner ear; ‘In A Zone’ is what Pete Rock should sound like in 2008 but doesn’t; ‘Don’t Question Me’ combines swirling guitar licks with downtempo drums so beautifully that I can’t even listen to it without closing my eyes. The guest MC spots are pleasingly restricted to a small handful of underground Bronxites giving the whole work a sense of continuity and in an age where most people don’t even give a shit about albums anymore, The Gas literally demands a front to back listening experience to be fully appreciated. Ultimately, it feels like the whole package is bolstered by a sense of unwavering confidence: this is music made by aficionados, for aficionados. Don’t like it? Then fuck you.

Except you will do. A lot. And it’ll be with good reason because this is hands down the most honest, genuinely slammin’ rap album I’ve heard all year. Granted it’s not exactly reinventing the wheel, but when it sounds this good who gives a fuck. The P Brothers certainly don’t, and that’s exactly why The Gas is a collection of some of the very best beats and rhymes you will hear all year.