Kansas City got both versions of the funk Wednesday night in the Crossroads.
New Mayor Mark Funkhouser opened the show with a thanks to all who, “Helped a big white guy get elected mayor.”
He was succeeded at the microphone by a guitarist wearing a diaper who signaled the end of Funkhouser’s reign and the beginning of George Clinton’s.
Initially, the show felt like more of an event than a concert. The sold-out crowd drew from nearly every demographic in the city, creating a festival atmosphere, and “Bop Gun,” the second song of the night, had them all dancing.
Clinton’s troupe, Parliament-Funkadelic, also heightened the atmosphere. Between the Diaper Guitarist, Sir Nose, the Pink Pimp and a back-up signer in a gold shirt and crown, P-Funk has enough personality and characters to rival a Broadway cast. Clinton emerged 40 minutes into the set wearing a black track suit and a shock of bright orange hair.
The show started strong, but it peaked after the first hour. After a strong performance of “The Big Payback” in tribute to James Brown, Clinton tried getting a jam started that went nowhere and took too long getting there. “Dr. Funkenstein” failed to reignite the groove and a trip through the “Maggot Brain,” a proto-metal dual-guitar instrumental and Hendrix-laced bass/guitar/drums jam, pulled the show off course.
Fortunately things got back on track in the final hour. A drastically slowed-down blues arrangement of “One Nation Under A Groove” whetted the appetite for “Flashlight,” which was followed by “Freak of the Week” and “Atomic Dog.”
Clinton closed the show doing the Twist, the Monkey and the Swim to a medley of ’50s rock and roll hits. The man who taught a generation how to dance was reveling in the moves that schooled him.
Even though the show was light on the hits until the end, most people walked out happy. At three-plus hours, there was more than enough to please everyone, even if the best moments came with long intermissions.
(Above: This song is a “Quickie” but George Clinton’s musical career as a funk pioneer has encompassed more than five decades.)
By Joel Francis The Kansas City Star
If James Brown cleared the road from soul to funk, then George Clinton paved it.The link between the two is undeniable, not only in the style of music Brown and Clinton created, but because they used many of the same artists to create that music, and because Clinton modeled his P-Funk empire in part on Brown’s business blueprint.
Clinton and Parliament-Funkadelic, which includes his longtime drummer Frank “Kash” Waddy, play Crossroads, 417 E. 18th St., on Wednesday with 4 Fried Chickens and a Coke and Browntown.
The Godfather of Soul
George Clinton’s first impression of James Brown was not favorable.
“Back then, in my Motown days, we used to criticize him, until we knew better,” Clinton said of his days in the mid-’60s as a songwriter at the legendary Detroit label. “At Motown, we specialized in lyrics. Berry (Gordy, Motown’s president) made sure we got a story out of every song.”
Brown’s storytelling skills didn’t measure up to Hitsville U.S.A.’s standards.
“Everyone thought James wasn’t saying anything,” Clinton said. “It wasn’t until hip hop came along that we realized James was saying more in one ‘unh’ than all of our stories combined.”
Clinton left Motown and started a doo-wop group called The Parliaments. When The Parliaments record label folded, their backing band, The Funkadelics stepped into the spotlight. Funkadelic ushered in the 1970s with an aggressive blend of Jimi Hendrix, Sly Stone and James Brown.
While Clinton was tinkering with the formation of Funkadelic, Brown was turning America on to hard funk and inspiring countless imitators.
“Bootsy Collins, his brother Catfish and I all grew up in Cincinnati together playing music,” said Frank “Kash” Waddy. “Back then, every town would have a group that tried to sound like James Brown. We’d come up with false IDs, draw moustaches on our faces, wear sunglasses and a shirt and tie — anything to try to look as manly as possible so we could sneak into bars and play.”
The mid-adolescent trio of Bootsy on bass, Catfish on guitar and Waddy on drums did well enough on regional tours and local shows to eventually attract the attention of The Godfather himself.
“Little by little James got word of us and he’d come and sit in on our shows. That was some major validation,” Waddy said. “Really he was prepping us for if he needed us to join his band, but we didn’t know because we were totally naïve.”
After sitting in on studio sessions and short tours with Hank Ballard, Arthur Prysock and other artists on Brown’s King record label, Waddy and the Collins brothers got the call to join James himself onstage.
“It all happened so fast. He start by calling off a song and a key and count off,” Waddy said. “Since I was behind the drums I could see the whole scene. Bootsy and Catfish were bunched up by me. Kush (trumpet player Richard Thompson), Strawberry and (saxophonist) Pee Wee Ellis — all guys we idolized — were onstage with us, and in front was the biggest crowd we’d seen. We were scared out of our minds.”
Brown formed the original lineup of The J.B.s around those musicians and for the next couple years, Kash, Bootsy and Catfish toured the world with Brown.
“It was a good two months that we went around pinching ourselves, because we went from nothing to James Brown,” Waddy said. “James Brown had hotels. He was so powerful it was unbelievable. He had his own radio stations and record label.”
Brown had built a vertically integrated empire of recording, publishing, airplay and promotion, but he didn’t have everything.
“We got to looking at the guys who were with James all the time, and they all seemed to be kind of depressed,” Waddy said. “We didn’t understand it, but it wouldn’t be nothing to see a grown man cry or be upset, and James would keep them like that. I began to realize there was not happiness at the end of this rainbow.”
In 1971, the Cincinnati trio bolted from Brown and formed The Houseguests, a band whose sound was constantly being compared to Funkadelic’s.
“We had never heard Funkadelic before, but one night in Detriot we were playing on a bill between Funkadelic and Gladys Knight,” Waddy said. “George heard us that night and hired the whole band. The rest is history.”
The Hardest Working Man In Show Business
Recruiting Brown’s old rhythm section opened the door for more defections, as Fred Wesley, Maceo Parker and others eventually joined the Funkadelic family.
“At one time, we had all of James Brown’s band with us,” Clinton said through a laugh. “Working with James was something they’d complain about and idolize at the same time. You had to be the best in the world to be with James, because coming out of it almost any of those guys could run their own organization.”
Freed from the militaristic management of Brown, Clinton’s band was a playground for Brown’s former musicians.
“We left such a regimented, staunch environment with James, and got total freedom from George,” Waddy said. “It was a happy medium. We brought professional discipline and introduced George to The One (Brown’s style of emphasizing the one beat in his grooves).”
Clinton didn’t manage, he made sure shows were lined up, studio time was available and let the results speak for themselves.
“Man, I just got onstage and let them play what they wanted to play,” Clinton said. “Personality-wise I’d just let them be the bandleaders and tell them what I wanted.”
Building on the Motown model and Brown’s King label, and foreshadowing Prince’s Paisley Park empire, Clinton let his musicians front their own outfits under his production and input. Fred Wesley and Maceo Parker led the Horny Horns, while Waddy and Catfish became core members of Bootsy’s Rubber Band. Other Clinton combos included The Parlets, The Brides of Funkenstien and Parliament, a happier, dance-friendly outlet for the Funkadelic musicians.
“We had a whole studio in Detroit called United Sounds to ourselves,” Waddy said. “We weren’t told you work on this and you work on this. You’d just go in, listen to a track and jump in if you could. George would come in and listen and might give one cut to the Horny Horns, another to the Rubber Band. Sometimes we’d go in and wouldn’t see daylight for three days.”
By the end of the decade, nearly all of Clinton’s bands were dominating dance floors and concert stages across the country. The ripple effect of that music was inescapable from the onslaught of imitators trying to capture that sound and feeling.
“For us funk was a way of life,” Waddy said. “We wouldn’t listen to TV or the radio because we didn’t want our stuff to be tainted. That’s why these songs have stood the test of time; they weren’t a fad, they were a way of life.”
Soul Brother No. 1
Clinton first got the idea for the mothership watching Lt. Uhura on an episode of Star Trek.
“I was thinking about putting black people where folks wouldn’t picture them. That’s why I got the idea of a spaceship with me sitting outside like a pimp mobile,” Clinton said. “Once Parliament got a hit record with ‘Up for the Downstroke,’ I took the royalty money and bought a spaceship. I wanted to do something big onstage like Sgt. Pepper or The Who’s Tommy.”
With the Brides of Funkenstien, The Parlets and Bootsy’s Rubber Band opening the show and everyone onstage for Parliament-Funkadelic’s set, Clinton set the new standard for stage performances.
“It changed the whole industry, because prior to us it was all three-piece suits with bass, guitar and an amp. Black guys would try to get by with as little as possible to keep overhead low,” Waddy said. “Now after us, all acts had to invest to compete.”
The stage wasn’t the only place Clinton was reinventing music.
“Our language was street talk,” Clinton said. “At the time black DJs with personalities were on the way out for Quiet Storm. We became our own DJs on our records and made that the standard. After that, DJs in the club started doing the same thing. Give yourself a few more years and artists were doing it over records, which became hip hop.”
There’s not much subtlety in the Clinton catalog, but the political content of his lyrics are a consistently understated element.
“I never wanted to write about boy/girl, black/white issues. I wanted to keep it vague, Clinton said. “I always avoided strict interpretations of politics, because I thought if people got caught up in that, the political winds were libel to change and people would just end up fighting against a particular stance.”
There are brains behind the bounce on songs like “Chocolate City” and “Think, It Ain’t Illegal Yet.”
“I applaud George, because he was always reading and wanting to teach. Issues we’re talking about today, like cloning, we talked about 30 years ago on ‘Placebo Syndrome’ when they were not mentioned,” Waddy said. “Politically, George was East Coast and James was Southern. James was just a dead hit with his lyrics. George was a little slicked up, more coy.”
Mr. Dynamite
Despite all his success and innovation, shortly after the 1980s dawned, Clinton and his bands found themselves without record contracts.
“One or two somebodies orchestrated all the negotiations with the labels in 1980,” Clinton said. “I didn’t think they’d throw us to the curb that quickly with all our hit records, and it all stopped at the exact same time I started Uncle Jam records.”
Clinton likened his experience to what happened to Prince in the early ’90s and revealed, “we’re just starting to get into the courts to see those papers and see what really happened, and I promise the full story will come out soon.”
“A lot of people say we got high and used up all our money on drugs,” Clinton said with a laugh. “It’s not true. We hadn’t gotten paid yet!”
Clinton had some success, but several of his musicians drifted away. Fortunately, for every musician who left, seemingly 10 rappers discovered the P-Funk sound. Clinton’s songs, along with Brown’s, are the most sampled in hip hop.
“Hip hop kept funk alive,” Clinton said. “I made a relationship with the artists, that instead of fighting them, I kept them close to me. Our records are like James Brown’s – they never get old.”
The proliferation of Clinton samples kept his catalog fresh. Even if listeners had never heard a P-Funk song, they probably knew “The Humpty Dance,” which relies on Clinton’s “Let’s Play House,” “Me, Myself and I,” which uses “(Not Just) Knee Deep” or any number of songs that liberally borrow “Atomic Dog.”
“We’ve been traveling around and playing so long that live music has caught back on,” Waddy said. “People don’t want to hear music from sequencers anymore. They want to hear live instrumentation and be entertained. Our crowds range from high schoolers to middle aged people.”
Or as Clinton puts it: “The charts don’t mean near as much anymore once you have a following.”
Today Clinton has a reality TV show in the works, a new record label, a reputation as a great live act and when Brown died on Christmas Day, claim to being the biggest living link to the funk era.
“There’s a lot of James Brown in our music, but it’s not only James Brown. We’ve got Motown and Jimi and Sly Stone and Ray Charles,” Clinton said. “There’s always so much of that stuff built into our music that by the time it got there, it was hard to pick out just one thing.”
Waddy, who is working on a book about his times with Brown and Clinton, is less modest.
“In my mind, James and George were nose and nose for years, but James always had a bit more of the edge because of seniority,” Waddy said. “Now that James is gone, George is the man. People are feeling it without realizing it. The public always has to have their guy, and right now George is on top of the heap.”
(Above: Dinosaur Jr got lost. Fortunately, they found their way back.)
By Joel Francis
Subtlety has never been a Dinosaur Jr trademark, but since the original lineup regrouped nearly two years ago, they have quietly been establishing the template for how a reunion should go.
With “Beyond,” the first album with the original lineup of J Mascis, Lou Barlow and Murph since 1988, Dinosaur Jr have not only conquered the studio phobia plaguing most reunited bands, but have also made one of the best albums of their career.
Sonically, “Beyond” fits snugly between “Bug” and “You’re Living All Over Me” and feels like the natural resumption of a conversation that should never have ended. Mascis has been fine regardless of the musicians he’s surrounded himself with; however, “Beyond” hammers home the fact that Barlow and Murph bring out the best in their leader and each other.
Mascis’ wailing guitars and mourning vocals on “Almost Ready” open the album like a long-lost relative kicking in the door for a surprise visit. But “Beyond” is far more than a nostalgia trip, even if it is impossible to not float back to the early ‘90s while listening.
All three members seem ready to make nice. Pleas for reconciliation and understanding fill half of Mascis’ songs, including darn near an apology in “What If I Knew,” the closing track.
Barlow’s “Back To Your Heart” has a jangle and buoyancy missing from the rest of the album while his “Lightning Bulb” follows Mascis’ acoustic ballad “I Got Lost,” which may be the most beautiful song the band has done.
A good band getting back together is always interesting – even more so when it improves their legacy. If the Pixies, the Police or any other reunion act have the courage to venture back into the studio, they’ll have “Beyond” to measure up to. We’ll be lucky if any do half as well.
Toots and the Maytals rocked the Folly Theatre with a righteous rain of reggae in what has to be the first-ever Easter Saturday sunset service.
Toots Hibbert, his five-piece band and two female singers testified for two hours with the union of gospel and soul converted into groundbreaking reggae that had the near-capacity crowd dancing in the aisles, clapping on command and reveling in the spirit.
They didn’t waste any time getting to the good stuff. The opener, “Pressure Drop,” steamrolled right into classics like “Time Tough,” “Sweet and Dandy” and “Pump and Pride.”
Hibbert worked the crowd with the fervor of an evangelist with his energetic delivery and call and responses. The show was the fourth installment of “Cypress Avenue Live at the Folly,” and was its most successful to date.
The entire evening was a delight, but the highlights were a cover of “Country Roads Take Me Home,” and “54-46 Was My Number,” the final song of the night. The gospel moments, like the intro to “Country Roads Take Me Home” and the spiritual medley near the end of the main set had everyone singing, dancing and testifying.
The only blemish on an otherwise inspired evening was that Hibbert’s voice was difficult to hear all night. Shouts of “turn it up” resonated from the balcony, there was little the sound engineer could do to make Hibbert hold his microphone above chest level.
That his mic captured as much as it did is a testament to Hibbert’s powerful delivery. Before the show, one person mused how the show would work at the Folly, a space with limited room for dancing. He thought the Maytals were better suited for a venue like the Uptown.
He may have been right, but the staid surroundings didn’t stop anyone from having a great time. If they didn’t make it up in time for Easter services, one might understand: They’d already been taken to church.
Set list: Pressure Drop; Time Tough; Sweet and Dandy; Reggae Got Soul; Pump and Pride; Never Get Weary Yet; Bam Bam; Peeping Tom; Broadway Jungle; Country Roads (Take Me Home); Funky Kingston; True Love Is Hard To Find; Treat Me Good; Medley: It Was Written Down/Shining Light/Amen; Monkey Man. Encores: Love Gonna Walk Out On Me; Roots, Rock Reggae (jam); 54-46 Was My Number.
Road warriors have heavy therapy to dish out Monday at the Hurricane.
By Joel Francis The Kansas City Star
“If you’re going to be into something, be into it to the death,” said Jason McMaster, singer and songwriter for the hard rock band Broken Teeth.
If anyone should know, it’s McMaster, a self-proclaimed “heavy metal kid at heart” who, when growing up, bought the entire catalogs of his favorite bands.
“Heavy metal fans are like a ninja or samurai. It’s something you’re born into,” McMaster said. “It’s not like one day you decide, ‘This isn’t working for me, I’m going to try something else.’ ”
Talk about knowing your clientele.
“That kid at school with black fingernails, dyed hair wearing a Motorhead T-shirt … those are my people,” McMaster said. “That’s who I’m talking to.”
It is evident in his speech, which is peppered with references to Judas Priest, Kiss and AC/DC and quotes Lemmy, that he was — and still is — one of those kids.
If that’s the case then think of Monday at the Hurricane as a sort of group therapy. That’s when McMaster and Broken Teeth will serve an adult slab of hard rock for those who love it loud.
“People should realize we’re not just heavy metal. I call it hard rock,” McMaster said. “There are people who like country music who are into Broken Teeth. Some people who like Slayer are into Broken Teeth.”
And like a lot of metal fans, Broken Teeth fans tend to be fanatics.
“A lot of our fans overseas have every record by their favorite band. That says something about rock fans,” McMaster said. “There sure were a lot of records I bought and liked at one time or another. I tried to do my homework. If I was into it, I was into it.”
The music he was “into” comes through loud and clear in Broken Teeth: the classic metal sound cultivated after 1975.
“ ’75 is a good place to start: Deep Purple, Motorhead, (Judas) Priest and the like,” he said. “You can hear our style in all of those bands. I think it’s important to let our influences shine. Those ingredients all come out when we’re writing. It’s a big soup.”
McMaster has been writing a lot lately with his band mates: guitarists Jared Tuten and Dave Beeson, bass player Brett McCormick and drummer Bruce Rivers.
“We played 115 shows in 2006,” McMaster said. “We write on the road. When something’s good, I can say, ‘Hey, guys, come listen to this.’ It’s one more reason to stay out on tour.”
Broken Teeth haven’t released a new album since 2004 and haven’t pushed a new studio album since 2002, but all that’s about to change.
“We finally got some good distribution for our album coming out this spring,” McMaster said. “That one will be half old songs and half new stuff, because a lot of people are going to discover Broken Teeth for the first time with this.”
If older fans decide to take a pass on this album, McMaster said, they won’t have to wait long for the next one.
“Now the new material is what we’re really excited about,” McMaster said. “That’s all we talk about. That album (of all new material) may come out in late ’07.”
By Joel Francis The Kansas City Star’s Back To Rockville blog
Two excellent jazz collections slipped into the bins quietly during the holiday rush last year.
“If You Got To Ask, You Ain’t Got It,” is three comprehensive discs of pure fun from Fats Waller. The set is comprised of 66 cuts from 1926 to 1943 than find the jolly, indomitable pianist in solo, quintet and big band settings. The included 100-page book contains an excellent biography that puts the songs into context, and a history of Fats’ various recording groups and sidemen.
But the true feast is the music, and what a feast it is. One disc focuses on Fats’ work out of the Tin Pan Alley songbook and includes his joyful interpretations of “Dinah,” “Two Sleepy People” and “‘Tain’t Nobody’s Business.” These songs have been, and continue to be, performed as a rite of passage for jazz musicians, and with good reason. It’s a fair bet, though, that no one has infused such glee and humor into their readings. One or two verses from any of these songs are guaranteed to chase the blues away and bring a smile to the listeners’ face.
The second disc finds Fats in instrumental, and often solo, mode and was the most revelatory to me. Fats’ organ work on “St. Louis Blues” blurs the lines between classical and jazz, and gospel chording obvious on several other songs point to the path Ray Charles would later take. In fact, one could easily look at this set as one of the many birth places of soul music.
Many of Fats’ most recognizable tunes – “Honeysuckle Rose,” “All That Meat and No Potatoes” and “Ain’t Misbehavin’” – can be found on the disc titled “Fats Waller Sings and Plays Fats Waller.” At 22 tracks, the disc just dips its toe in the water of Fats’ songwriting (the accompanying book says he wrote more than 400 songs), but like everything else here it’s all top-shelf.
To the uninitiated – which I’ll confess included me – “If You Got To Ask” is a great entry point to the world of Fats Waller. Longtime fans will no doubt enjoy having a great cross-section of the man’s works in one place.
Most of my familiarity with Fats’ came from Louis Armstrong’s 1955 tribute album “Satch Plays Fats.” Two songs from that album are found on Time Life’s “The Wonderful World of Louis Armstrong” collection. Armstrong has been collected and compiled literally hundreds of times, but what sets this entry apart is its DVD.
With performances spanning four decades, it is a true delight to see Satchmo perform hits like “When the Saints Go Marching In,” “Sleepy Time Down South” and “Mack the Knife.” Those songs are all present alongside 37 other well-known tracks like “What A Wonderful World,” “Blueberry Hill” and “Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans?” on the two CDs that round out the set. There’s nothing from the Hot Five or Hot Seven ensembles here, but it’s just as well: true Satchmo fans will need at least one disc devoted exclusively to this period. The rest of his career, and material from the Verve, Decca, Columbia and RCA labels are all here, though.
If you’ve already got a decent, multi-disc Armstrong collection, it may not be worth your money to pick this one up, but fans looking for that first Armstrong purchase would do well to steer toward this collection if only for the DVD.
Perhaps the most attractive aspect of both these collections, aside from the music, is the price. Both may be found online for about $30, and while it may be too late to request them as stocking stuffers, there’s nothing wrong with treating yourself.
Metal band has new guitarist and a new album to share.
By Joel Francis The Kansas City Star
Local Saliva fans will get their stockings stuffed early this year.
Its new album won’t be in stores until January, but the hard-rock band will preview material at its concert Friday at the Uptown Theater.
“This tour is awesome because we get to test the waters and see what reaction we get (from the new material),” said Saliva drummer Paul Crosby. “They (the fans) are all singing every word to ‘Ladies and Gentleman,’ which has only been on the radio for a month.”
Saliva has been opening its concerts with another new song, “Black Sheep.”
“ ‘Black Sheep’ is a great start to the show because it has a great groove and it’s heavy,” Crosby said. “We’re only playing two new songs in the set, but the fans seem to be liking them.”
Crosby describes Saliva’s new album, “Blood Stained Love Story,” as an amalgamation of the band’s first three albums.
“It’s like all our records combined into one, but better,” Crosby said. “If you liked anything about any of the others, you’ll like something on this one.”
Few of the tracks display the nu-metal trend that Saliva rode onto the airwaves a decade ago.
“Our songs now are more towards straight-ahead rock than (a) hip-hop orientation,” Crosby said. “If you listen to our three records, it’s obvious how we’ve changed.”
Some of those true-life changes — marriages, births, divorces — were expected. The abrupt exit of longtime guitarist Chris Dabaldo last summer, was not.
“Considering how I was driving down the road, and the DJ came on (the radio) and said, ‘Chris Dabaldo has quit,’ I guess you could say it was shocking,” Crosby said. “I pulled over and called everyone else in the band; nobody saw it coming.”
He’s excited, however, about the band that emerged after Dabaldo’s defection: Crosby, singer Josey Scott, guitarist Wayne Swinny, bassist Dave Novotny and new guitarist Jon Montoya.
“Chris’ leaving definitely didn’t hurt us. It seemed to make us a stronger band,” Crosby said energetically. “Jonathan Montoya came to us from Full Devil Jacket. He’s a better player and entertainer. Our shows are now better, and our sound is now better.”
And while new material is sprinkled in the set, the new version of Saliva also plays old favorites, from the early swagger of “Your Disease” to the straightforward rock of “Rest in Pieces.”
“It’s totally fun. They’re still there in our set,” Crosby said. “We’ve written a lot of different kinds of songs, which makes it more fun for me. I’m not just playing the same style all night.”
The versatility of songwriting styles may explain why Saliva can still draw a decent crowd when many of its nu-metal contemporaries are struggling.
“Most bands only get one or two (albums); this is our fourth,” Crosby said. “I believed in this band from the beginning. I could tell from being in other bands that everybody here had that mindset and wanted it.”
That determination has served the band well the last decade.
“It’s all up to the fans, but I really don’t know why we’ve lasted,” Crosby admitted. “I like to think it’s because of the good music we write. We have evolved and grown a lot. There’s a natural progression. We’re more mature and older.”
Two of this year’s most anticipated hip hop releases were also its biggest disappointments.
In August, OutKast released “Idlewild,” the soundtrack to their first film and the follow-up to 2004’s Grammy-winning smash release “Speakerboxx/The Love Below.” Like all OutKast projects “Idlewild” is bursting with a million ideas. Unfortunately, few of them are seen all the way through. Tracks like “The Train” and “Morris Brown” fire on all cylinders and are a delight to the ears, but they are also the exception. At 78 minutes in length, the album is littered with songs like “Chronomentrophobia” that hint at something bigger but end before jelling. The worst offender of all is the aptly titled “Bad Note,” a 9-minute dirge that goes absolutely nowhere. Some judicious editing and persistence could have saved this project. Instead we’re left with an album that’s ripe for cherry picking.
If “Idlewild” fails because it has too many ideas, then the exact opposite problem plagues Jay-Z’s “Kingdom Come.”
Jay-Z announced his retirement from rap three years ago and has spent that time releasing two albums with R. Kelly and guesting on numerous albums. Instead of returning from his so-called sabbatical refreshed, Hova offers us absolutely nothing new. The Jigga-man used to justify his thug, but now he’s justifying his age (37) and rehashing the same tired rhymes about his wealth, his game and his momma.
Unfortunately, Jay-Z’s not the only one phoning it in. His lyrical lethargy is unfortunately compounded by production is even less inspired. Two cuts recycle the samples that gave us MC Hammer’s “U Can’t Touch This” and Wreckx-N-Effect’s “Rump Shaker” over 15 years ago. Unfortunately, these tracks shine in comparison with the limp and lazy beats provided by the usually-reliable Just Blaze and Dr. Dre. Put it this way: when the best and most original beat on the album is provided by Coldplay’s Chris Martin, you know you’re in trouble.
I don’t want to hear Jigga sleepily tell me how “30’s the new 20” any more than I want to hear OutKast’s Andre 3000 ape Cab Calloway’s schtick. While it’s regrettable that two of the most reliable and original acts in hip hop have misfired so greatly, it’s comforting to know we only have to wait until next summer for redemption.
Your favorite band’s opinion of its fans will not be found on the concert stage, but under the Christmas tree.
For years the holiday season has been the dumping ground for record labels. Greatest hits albums from nearly forgotten artists (last year: Sugar Ray, this year: Staind) and reissues with bonus tracks are both designed to cash in on the holiday shopper. While most best-ofs are aimed at the casual buyer, and some can be a great starting place for a uninitiated fan daunted by an artist with a tremendous catalog, reissues take straight aim at the dedicated fan.
Few artists are able to find the balance between old and unreleased material and introduce themselves to new fans without appearing to gouge long-time fans. The Dave Matthews Band finds that balance this year with “The Best of What’s Around, Vol. 1.”
This set gets props for being selected by the band’s fan club and coming with a second disc of unreleased live performances that don’t overlap the material on the first disc. Plus it’s available at a one-disc price. That’s a lot better than most greatest hits with the obligatory two new tracks tacked on to the end.
Which is exactly what U2 does on their collection, “18 Singles.” This is the third best-of compilation from the band in the past decade, a figure which matches the number of studio albums they’ve given us in the same span. It is impossible to summarize the band in one disc and here the band doesn’t even try. Eight songs post-date the millennium, leaving 10 tracks to cover the first two decades of the band. Three albums, “Boy,” “October” and “Pop,” are ignored completely. It’s unclear who this is trying to appeal to, but the band’s intentions could be summed up by playing the intro of Pink Floyd’s “Money.”
For all their humanitarian efforts and “everyman” appeal, it is appalling that U2 would stoop to such a low marketing ploy. They manage to make matters worse with a “deluxe edition” of “18 Singles” that includes at 10-song DVD at nearly double the price. This is not a new practice. U2 have been releasing their concerts on DVD in two editions from some time now. The bare-bones disc of the full concert usually runs about $10, while at double the price the “deluxe edition” adds a second disc of content that barely holds up on first viewing. U2 are shamelessly profiting off their hardcore fans — the ones who made the band what it is today — with this tactic.
Unfortunately U2 are not alone. Last spring Bruce Springsteen released the excellent “We Shall Overcome: The Seeger Sessions” album. This fall it is back in the “American Land Edition” with five more songs. Columbia Records, the same label that brings us The Boss, released no fewer than three versions of the Los Lonely Boys debut album in 2004 and 2005. First came the standard issue. Then, when the band started to take off, Columbia pushed an enhanced version with Spanish-language tracks. Finally came a DualDisc version with videos and a surround-sound mix of the album.
When artists and the labels lament over the money lost through downloading, piracy and hard-drive swapping they should remember that it is ploys like this that turn fans away. It’s never profitable in the long run to spit on the fan who bought the album when it was first released and boosted its all-important SoundScan numbers. This is a trick akin to the repairman who keeps finding one more thing to fix, and it is capable of damaging years of devotion and goodwill.
Fortunately some artists are getting this right. Wilco has provided a free EP of exclusive content for fans who bought their last two studio albums. A code in the CD booklet may be keyed in to the band’s Web site to access the downloadable songs and artwork. Those who purchased Wilco frontman Jeff Tweedy’s solo concert DVD this fall can put the disc in their computer to download high-quality audio versions of all the songs in addition to two bonus tracks. Sure, the system isn’t flawless, but it rewards those who buy and acts on good faith.
All bands thank their fans, but what is expected to be put under the tree speaks much louder than concert-concluding platitudes. Like the Grinch, it appears that The Boss and Bono need a visit from Dave and Wilco to have their hearts expanded a few sizes.
Quartet is cooking up a four-way sound experience.
Kansas City Star
By Joel Francis
Justin Timberlake may be bringing sexy back, but the jam band the Disco Biscuits is retrieving a relic of the ’70s.
“Quadrophonic sound hasn’t been popular in many years, but we’re going to bring it back,” said Biscuits singer, guitarist and songwriter Jon Gutwillig. “Roger Waters came through town, and he did it, because he’s from the ’70s. Our keyboard player went to the show and said, ‘Why don’t we?’ It turns out it’s not that hard.”
But the antique-cum-cutting-edge sound system won’t be debuted until the Biscuits’ New Year’s Eve show in Philadelphia. Fans who show up on Friday to hear the band play the Granada in Lawrence will have to settle for two-channel, stereo sound.
“We keep getting bigger, and I don’t understand it. Every time we go back to your town, we’re bigger than the last time we were there,” Gutwillig said. “It makes us feel like we’re moving in the right direction.”
One reason for the unexpected success might be the following the quartet has built and the availability of most of their shows, bootlegged or otherwise.
“We were playing in Pittsburgh the other night, and I looked at the crowd and thought to myself, ‘I’ve never seen these people in my life,’ ” Gutwillig said. “But it was very real. They knew our music, knew the band members and knew our style. They learned about us the old-fashioned way: They got bootlegs from their older brother, the same way I did.”
If brother can’t provide, the band certainly can. Many of the band’s performances are recorded and available for sale on their Web site, http://www.discobiscuits.com. With no label, pressing, packaging and distribution costs involved, the Biscuits — made up of Gutwillig, bass player Marc Brownstein, drummer Allen Aucoin and keyboard player Aron Magner — are able to reinvest the majority of the earnings.
“The downloading has been incredibly successful. It’s afforded us the opportunity to spend money to improve the quality considerably,” Gutwillig said.
Online shows used to come from a DAT machine on the soundboard. Now the shows are picked up by microphones onstage, in the audience and on the board.
“The sound is as good as show boots have ever sounded. We can produce a high-quality concert recording in less than two hours,” Gutwillig said. “We try to have a show on the Net as quickly as possible without it sounding bad.”
Since the Biscuits keep all of their songs in their performance repertoire, the archives give fans instant access to the entire catalog.
“When I was a kid into Phish, I’d hear this song, (and) I had no idea what it was. It would take me a month to find out,” Gutwillig said. “Now I could learn how to play that song from tape 10 hours after I heard it. Everything is quick and hard-core now. You’re not waiting for something to come in the mail.”
A lot of the Disco Biscuit’s universe has accelerated since the band’s inception on the University of Pennsylvania campus in the mid-’90s.
“I used to walk around a public school singing songs into a voice recorder. I got a lot of great songs that way,” Gutwillig said.
“Making time now to write music is definitely an issue. Now I write faster, but there’s less time. I used to have all the time in the world, nothing going on. Now it seems I have to leave the country for a few months to get anything done, which I’m thinking about doing.”
By Joel Francis
joelfrancis.com 