After birthing legendary indie shredders Monotonix, Israel offers the world yet another musical gift: Soulico, a crew of four Tel-Aviv DJs with an impressive library of rare Middle Eastern folk and disco vinyl. Last October they put forth their debut album, Exotic on the Speaker, an energetic amalgam of hip-hop, dancehall, and traditional Mid East music.
Twelve of thirteen tracks feature MCs and singers from all over the world including scores of Israeli hip-hop artists; Panamanian dancehall maestro MC Zulu; Ghostface Killah; underground rappers Lyrics Born, Pigeon John, and Del the Funky Homosapien; and Rye Rye, M.I.A.’s streetwise teenaged protégé from Baltimore. Although almost half of the lyrics are in Hebrew, the language barrier isn’t much of a problem; “Pitom Banu 2020” hasn’t one word of English, yet it is easily one of the album’s most appealing songs.
The first song, “El Nur,” commences with a shout of “Salaam alaikum” (peace unto you in Arabic), and then Ghostface Killah delivers a verse in his classic Wu Tang cadence. The overall thesis of his rap: I’m super tight, I’m hard, don’t fuck with me. It’s hubristic and unoriginal, yet charming as always. The beat that backs him consists of standard electronic drums, rapid pluckings of some foreign-sounding string instrument, and a loud, buzzy synth line. The rest of the song features Hebrew rapping and singing (no idea what they’re saying…but it sounds neat?). Each collaborator pulls his or her own weight, making the song fantastic as a whole.
Unfortunately, some of Soulico’s musical guests are not so worthy. For example, on the eighth track titled “Come Back,” Onili, an Israeli pop diva, sings in a breathy, overly sexy voice. But it’s not sexy. It’s just frightening. She and a couple other featured artists whose performances add no value to the album ought not to have been included in the otherwise awesome debut project.
But the most incredible song of all, and the most Israeli in sound, is the title track, “Exotic on the Speaker,” featuring Rye Rye. A cheap-sounding synthetic orchestra pounds thrice, a Klezmer fiddle sings a folky phrase, and a drum machine creates an intricately detailed beat. Rye Rye fills her two minutes and forty-three seconds with rhymes about nightclubs and parties in her sincere and youthful voice. Inclusion of Rye Rye on the album was surely a good call.
But for their part, the DJs of Soulico (Sabbo, Rob, Shimmy Sonic, and Wido by name) mix and produce a superb album. Perhaps their greatest virtue is their transcendence of the confines of genre. “Queen of Hearts” is an ultra-catchy dancehall reggae song, “Politrix” could easily be a song off of Beck’s Midnight Vultures, and “DaraboukaTron” sounds like a bunch of robots on acid partaking in a tribal drum circle. They’re a dynamic team, Soulico, a talent that is exciting to hear regardless of your culture, homeland, or language.
Pitchfork has released an article announcing that Andrew WK and one of my personal favorite hip-hop groups, People Under the Stairs, have collaborated and created a new variation of Danny Elfman’s Simpson’s theme song. It will air in the end credits on January 16th’s all new episode. Will you check it out? I know I will.
Dan deacon gave the kids of Eugene a taste of the East of Coast’s ‘wham city’ last night with his beautifully absurd performance at the Wow Hall. Despite false rumors of a fourteen-piece ensemble accompanying Mr. Deacon, the morale of fellow observers was higher than I anticipated. In the furry of week four I found myself almost studying through the show, but decided to drop everything and let myself get a little sweaty.
As a relative newbie to the Dan Deacon legacy, and a virgin to his live performances, the show dominated my expectations. I was comforted with Deacon’s familiar staples of oversized eyeglasses, grainy backdrop videos and that glowing green skull as I nestled into the crowd. From the start he had us on our knees smacking kisses onto each other’s foreheads, making us countdown to fifty before the music came. Set up on ground level he led our newly founded dance community with his digitally synthesized orchestra. Fidgeting with his light fixtures just as much as his switchboards, Deacon’s symphony of sound and light consumed the lower floor of the venue. The high pitched hum of his voice rang through the modulators along side the electronica waves. By his instruction we all partook in a tag-team dance contest, formed a synchronized interpretive dance and made a human tunnel that wrapped around Wow Hall. His social experiment/dance party glory left us all a little lighter.
Last week’s street faire brought us joyous smells of hemp, Indian food, and (of course) our favorite Eugene-only Off The Waffle.
So, after grabbing myself a chill winter-cap (it’s really colorful) and buying some gifts for friends and family, I had to make a quick stop to grab Off’s infamous “The Bully” … my dream waffle filled with strawberries and chocolate chips. As I was standing there, this faint little hit of honkey-tonk type country created this waffle-house atmosphere. I had to know what that music was and where I could buy it.
I asked the kindly young woman, who handed me my delicious waffle, what they were currently listening to. A man in the back checked his iPod and said “It’s called Gypsy Jazz.”
Okay, before I get any further, I’ll kind of let you in on where i first heard this so-called “gypsy jazz.” The year was 1999 and love was in the air. I only presume. I was only 7 years old. Anyways, a cute little movie called Toy Story 2 had just come out and, being a diehard fan from the beginning, I had to see it. About midway through the movie, a sweet little song called “Woody’s Roundup” (written by a band called Riders In The Sky) is played on the TV. Now, it’s not exactly country because it lacks the twangy-ness, and it’s not folk, because… well, it just isn’t. So this was my first encounter of what I would later find out was called “gypsy jazz.”
So I did a little research last night and realized that “gypsy jazz” was a form of jazz more commonly played in France than anywhere else. So if you watch French movies with café’s in them, you will most likely hear a little bit of this music. It consists of a sort of swing-dancing sound but without the brass band (like most big bands in the 30s and 40s). The main elements are the guitar and the violin, and it’s called “gypsy jazz” because of this… assuming that all gypsies played guitar and violin….
The most famous person I could find in this genre was a man named Django Reinhardt (1910-1953), who played a mean guitar. Most people who know about “gypsy jazz” refer newbies to this man and his work, and after a night of listening to it I can see why they consider him a genius. His riffs are incredible, and his music is just so upbeat that even the hip-hop music fans in the Earl lounge wanted to dance… well maybe not… but I hope they wanted to.
Here’s a little clip from YouTube that I found of one of Django’s songs… this is probably my favorite one, but there are so many to choose!
If you want more of this music, iTunes has a huge “iTunes Essentials: Gypsy Jazz” set you can download.
My goal now is to bring it back. Who doesn’t want to swing dance down the street while walking to their next class? Let’s make this Eugene’s new thing!
Sufjan’s rearrangement of his experimental album Enjoy Your Rabbit (2001) is great listening. Strings do a lot taking the place of electronic instruments. Just thought you should know and plan the next phase of your life accordingly.
Mayer Hawthorne, signee to the infallible hip-hop label Stones Throw Records, tours in promotion of his freshly pressed debut album, A Strange Arrangement. It is a collection of eleven songs written and recorded in the old-soul fashion of Motown. Hawthorne’s cries and croons throughout are backed by nostalgic doo-wop harmonies. The instruments, most of which Hawthorne plays personally, capture the vintage soul aesthetic: the distinct snappiness of snares, twang of Stratocasters, and funkiness of trumpet and bass parts. It is a nearly uncanny impression of classic Motown styles.
The album is introduced by a thirty-second prelude of impeccable harmonies a cappella; three or four overlapping tracks of Hawthorne’s vocals chime in unison, “We made a strange arrangement.” Hawthorne’s voice is untrained and inexperienced; his singing is basic, free of adlib and flourish. But he has an undeniable knack for composing harmonies, a musical intuition that is completely incomprehensible to those of us who lack the gift.
“Honestly,” he explains, “the first couple songs that I did were a total experiment on the side and I never planned on those songs ever being released to the public or people even hearing them.” Until rather recently he had no desire to record or release this soulful side-project. His primary vocation had been as DJ Haircut, a hip-hop artist. Hawthorne tells, “I grew up listening to soul music with my dad, and then as I got older I kind of found my own musical identity—I got really into hip-hop music. And then I got back into soul music from hip-hop, from digging for all the samples from all my favorite hip-hop tracks.” He experiences soul through the lens of a hip-hop-head, which is apparent at a few moments in the album. For example, the percussion underlying “Maybe So, Maybe No,” the funkiest and catchiest track on the record, calls to mind the fat and speedy high-hat commonly heard in contemporary rap.
The album’s first single, “Just Ain’t Gonna Work Out,” pre-released on a red heart-shaped 45, is supremely cool. Atop a groove of sparse keyboard, drum, and guitar parts Hawthorne apologetically breaks up with an unnamed lady friend in a falsetto that recalls Curtis Mayfield. The B-side, “When I Said Goodbye,” is a sort of antithesis to side A. Seeking to reconcile with his ex (presumably, the same one from side A) Hawthorne begs forgiveness: “I’m half the man that I was with you by my side/I didn’t mean it when I said goodbye.”
Mayer Hawthorne and his band, The County, performed last Saturday at Eugene’s WOW Hall. The crowd that met them was dinky (not more than fifty people) but most of the fans were already quite familiar, even infatuated, with Hawthorne’s material. He was preceded by three opening acts. The first was a Eugene rap group, Animal Farm, which performed an insufferably low-energy set of generic rap to the ten or so beings scattered about the floor (most of the crowd didn’t show up until later). The second act was an MC named Buff 1, who comes from Mayer Hawthorne’s hometown, Ann Arbor, Michigan. Buff 1 was animated and charismatic, his rhymes, strong. But there was nothing special, interesting, or edgy about his music.
The third opener, and the last before the anticipated headliner, was a member of the Stones Throw posse: an electro boogie DJ named James Pants. He wore narrow black jeans, a white tee, a leather jacket and dark shades. After leading the audience in a quick session of preparatory stretches set to echoey transient music, he mixed Jefferson Airplane’s “White Rabbit” with an electronic drum sample, and then suddenly shut it off. “That was just a taste of what I might be able to do. But now I’m going to do some karaoke.” “Touch Me” by The Doors came on and he sang along in a booming voice, theatrically waving his hands. At this point, any expectation of a normal DJ set was dispelled. James Pants’ set was more of a joke than a concert. He spent only about twenty percent of his stage time actually DJing records. Ten percent was karaoke, and seventy percent he spent ranting (in his voice that sounds strikingly like Ron Burgundy’s), pacing the stage in a constant struggle with his microphone chord. He rambled at length describing his music, informed the audience of opportunities to join his fan club, and complained sarcastically about being eclipsed by Mayer Hawthorne’s increasing popularity. “I may not be a boy soul-singing sensation,” he yelled. “I may not wear sweater vests and designer glasses, but my name is James Pants and I don’t fuck around!” The music he did play was movingly funky. He blended obscure golden era funk records with contemporary electro and his own drumming on an electronic kit. He closed with the following words, “Just a quick note to the promoter, and I do believe my lawyers have contacted you about this several times and heard no response, but I had requested specifically wireless microphones so that I do not get tangled. Thank you for basically ruining the show and embarrassing me. Normally this doesn’t happen.”
Mayer Hawthorne and his four-man band took the stage and launched immediately into their hit, “Maybe So, Maybe No.” The live rendition lacked one key element of the recorded version—the buzzy trumpet line that induces spine shivers—but it was danceable and pleasing just the same. They followed with “Just Ain’t Gonna Work Out,” another popular favorite, which everyone seemed to know the words to. And so they began: a one-two punch of soul power. The audience was engrossed and remained so for the duration of the show. The band played through their short repertoire of love songs, and in between songs Mayer spoke to the audience about romance as if he were some aged veteran lover. He prefaced one song by saying, “Here’s a song about the fucked up things we do for love.” And he repeatedly asked, “Do you feel the love, Eugene?” One number that stood out among the others was “I Wish It Would Rain.” The guitarist played a descending intro melody, which wavered beautifully with the reserved movements of his wah-wah pedal. Mayer sang softly, the keyboard player pounded his keys, and the patrons swayed with eyes glued on the musicians.
It sometimes takes a sparse, whistling overture to wake up out of that late-summer malaise. “Black River Killer,” a standout song from 2008’s Furr, joins six other Blitzen Trapper songs, sold only on CDRs at their live shows, to make the Black River Killer EP, out August 25 on Sub Pop. Short at just above 17 minutes, each song carrying just above two minutes of listening time, the EP keeps the quick songs bound together along an imagistic spine.
The seven songs, stacked seemingly in happy/sad alternation, push forward an agenda of slightly pessimistic exploration into America’s faded pastoral landscapes. It must be the economy, right?
Soft, burbling electronic tones guide the listener from the rural account of spiritual warfare in the opener “Black River Killer” and through the rest of the EP. Similarly, “Going Down” manages a happier note of corroded morals accompanied by an Air-approved, far away synth line.
On “Shoulder Full of You,” the harmonic melody playing over the comparatively restrained acoustic guitar line, causes a break in the low-down tone of the song, like an occasional passing view of rusted grain silos on a desolate highway.
“Preacher’s Sister’s Boy,” the next song on the EP, has the same light-hearted, electronic whistle and a tambourine-laden beat that has all the swaying of the road home with suddenly a lot more to see on the way.
Taking this into consideration, the next song “Black Rock” drops the listener into a chanting melody repetitive like a word association exercise for the entire first minute, which is actually about half the song.
But still, like most good EPs, Black River Killer gets ahead with the help of a strong tailwind at the end. The last song “Big Black Bird” substitutes the requisite electronic sub-tune with a lonesome harmonica and an unprecedented bassy swagger. In a word, or two literally, it’s country music.
Rated: 7 passing glimpses of grazing cows along the highway out of 10 endless, yellowed fields.
The summer isn’t really winding down. It’s just sitting there. Don’t read our progress report. Anyway, with days between now and the beginning of the ‘09/10 school year becoming fewer and fewer in number, it seems like an appropriate time to look in the direction that isn’t backwards.
Our first issue will need reviews, and the fall has some interesting releases:
-9/8- Andrew WK’s 55 Cadillac
-9/11- Jay Z’s Blueprint 3
-9/22- The Pains of Being Pure at Heart’s Higher Than the Stars
-10/13- The Flaming Lips’ Embryonic
-10/13- Thao With the Get Down Stay Down’s Know Better Learn Faster
-10/13- Wolfmother’s Cosmic Egg
-10/27- Weezer’s mysterious seventh
Looks like the late 2000s are a lot like the early 2000s. The question remains, will we be able to review them? Probably. In advance, depending on our yet-to-be-determined printing schedule?
Maybe.
We will have a review for the new Blitzen Trapper EP up ahead of the August 24 release. “In advance” just may be my new favorite phrase.
The alternative-rock juggernaut the Pixies are taking to the air and hitting the road this fall as part of their Doolittle 20th anniversary tour. The Pixies, known to many as the band that popularized now mainstream stop-start/loud-soft dynamics and influenced cult-status bands like Nirvana and Weezer, will be crossing the Atlantic Ocean to perform in England, Belgium, France and Ireland, before returning to the United States to wrap-up their tour. As far as the Pixies playing in Oregon, they’ll be making one stop in our state.
Not in the major-market Portland like you may expect, but in lowly Eugene (This, of course, is likely because Black Francis resides in our fair town while not touring.) As reported on Pitchfork.com, the Pixies will make a stop in Eugene to play at the Hult Center for the Performing Arts on November 14th, before continuing East to Colorado. Who says all the good shows are in Portland?Take that PDX!
Oregon Voice Magazine is paid for and produced by students at the University of Oregon. Our weekly meeting is on Wednesday at 6pm in Century Room E. Contributors are welcome.
The alternative-rock juggernaut the 