Seattle Slewing It

Montreal-based turntablist and producer Kid Koala (born Eric San) is the type of artist you can expect to take some formidably playful risks. Known for his virtuoso skills scratching and mixing on the wheels of steel, back in 1996 he was the first musician in North America signed to the U.K.'s boundary-busting label Ninja Tunes. Arriving in the wake of a fantastic mixtape, San's debut hip-hop-jazz-funk crossover Carpal Tunnel Syndrome (Ninja Tunes, 2000), featured a video game and a surreal comic book he designed himself. For San, the creative impulse is dedicated to telling a compelling and unlikely story. Free for download at www.nufonia.com, The Slew's 100% — San's self-released fourth effort in collaboration with long time friend Dynomite D — continues this tradition.

San and Dynomite (born Dylan Frombach) had discussed collaborating on a full-length project ever since vibing together on a couple spacey jazz singles about a decade ago (peep their "Third World Lover"). Thus, when Frombach was enlisted by his cousin Jay Rowlands to produce the score for a feature documentary on elusive Seattle psych-rock recluse Jack Slew, he brought San along. That was four and a half years ago. The documentary has since fallen through, but the score evolved independently into a masterfully abrasive and chest-rumbling soundscape. "We wanted to do some Black Sabbath meets the Bomb Squad," San tells me, laughing.

Initially the loosely-defined "Black Squad" duo gathered concrete inspiration from Jack Slew's unreleased material — an ample body of work, thick with ferocious dusty breaks, bluesy vocals, and fuzzed-out riffs. Slew has a gravelly yet piercing voice that cuts right through the drums. He sings knowingly of freedom lost and the fragile sentiments of an ape trying to become a man. It's rich material that just begs for sampling. San and Frombach reassemble the parts to produce a fresh perspective on the dangerously free spirit of the outlaw. "We needed a car chase scene, and a jail break scene, and then we ran with it," says San. Indeed, the album roves widely and digs deep, concluding with the epic moral struggle of "A Battle of Heaven & Hell."

Despite a cinematic narrative akin to a rogue spaghetti western, The Slew nearly succumbs to the usual pitfalls faced by turntablist albums. In the aesthetic sphere of turntablism, the scratching and abrupt pattern changes can sound gluttonous and overtly technical, warping the sonic landscape into a show of narcissism. "On the one hand [100%] is super-psychedelic, loud, and banging," San explains. "On the other hand" — he laughs — "it's the most masochistic, purist turntable record I've ever made."

However, what saves the effort from sadism as well is that the Slew's hip-hop inspired pastiche takes cues from authentic recording techniques of early '70s rock. San and Frombach dove into their history books to study the methods for producing the screeching drums and sandblasted guitar riffs of that era. To really polish the coarsely hypnotic sound, they asked Mario Caldato Jr. — the engineering innovator behind the Beastie Boys' Paul's Boutique (Capitol, 1989) among others — to master the effort. The result is an interweaving of pummeling breaks and wa-wa guitar nastiness fractured by effects modulations and the emboldened seams of mixing and scratching. And it hits loud.

Koala and Dynomite originally entertained the idea of performing 100% live with 14 turntables. Fortunately, they scrapped that idea in favor of working with Chris Ross and Myles Heskett, the former rhythm section of Australia's the Wolfmothers. Ross and Heskett play bass guitars, drums, and organ while Kid Koala and mad scientist partner P-Love (Paolo Kapunan) handle six turntables. San had to build "bass-proof, shock-proof turntables" to face the monster loudness that will ensue on the Slew's two-and-a-half-week North American tour. "We bought spring-loaded tone arms and made custom vinyl to cue faster, so we can just drop the needle and go," he says. "We are going to just cut loose."

also published in SFBG

4onephonics Unleashes Boogie with Dam Funk

Over the last few years living in the Bay Area seeking out Hiphop and its multitudinous offspring, I became quickly familiar with the innovative triathlon skills of the DJ collective, 4onefunk, paying dues in the scratching, battling, and mixtape circuits. Taking their steez to the next level in 2005, DJs Teeko and Max Kane established the 4onephonics band with drummer Austin Bohlman and keyboardist Colin Brown from the Mononphonics seven piece jam band.

The group utilizes two turntables as instruments, operated by mix wizards Teeko and Max Kane, to manipulate prerecorded elements as well as synthesize spontaneous sounds with the drum machine. Bohlman carries the groove forward with a heavily syncopated percussion that soaks in the break beats while Brown's cascading keys jazz up a groovy melody. Occasionally the horns of Monophonics join forces to stretch the capabilities of the group's organic swaying music even further. The final product is a powerhouse funk group informed just as much by the heavy grooves of Tower of Power as Herbie Hancock and the Scratch Pickles.


However, last night at the Elbo Room I witnessed 4onephonics like never before. Opening a set for the newly signed Stonesthrow records breakthrough, Dam Funk, 4onephonics unleashed a side developing project that blew the roof off the sucka'. Hooked up fully with deep boogie vinyl, spacey synth heavy keys, a sliding bass thump, and even a vocoder, 4onephonics constructed a sticky, grinding atmospheric noise that filled up Elbo Room's top floor with head nodding awe and sweaty writhing.

I must have been sleepin' on it for awhile, because sure enough, 4onephonics' myspace page showcases a couple tastes of their new boogie inspired joints. The low rider anthem, "Gfunkin on the C1," cruises steady with a clapping boom bap that lets the gurgling synth pop keys sink their chords thickly into your skin. Moving towards the spacier tip, "Controller ONE take ONE" totes a pummeling drum lick, whinnied along by scratching that transforms the prerecorded vinyl into a chopped up cosmic melody that sounds almost like a futuristic saxophone that secretes sex.

There's also a touch of the live shit, where you can really hear how Teeko and Max Kane cut up unchartered tuntablist territory, making previously unheard patterns of sounds.

4onephonics opening attuned my ears to a higher boogie refinement to get down with Dam Funk. Dropping joint after joint of boogie funk bangers, Dam Funk schooled the crowd on the names of each song in the most generous way possible, sharing the love by calling out names without any sense of elitism.


Dam Funk just released his first 12'' on Stones Throw called "Burgundy City," and plans to release a full length album by the end of the year. He grounds his music on the heritage of boogie but calls his own production, "future funk", keeping the music organic by using analog machines and special chords that avoid some of the synth pop soulless robotism that ravages much of disco.


Since I'm still learning about these the history of boogie funk I found the interview with Dam Funk in the last issue of Wax Poetics to be real informative. He drops the knowledge on the rock bottom foundation that everyone who loves this music needs to know.

As far as boogie, early Slave and Cameo are examples of popular boogie. That was the second wave of funk music. James Brown and Sly Stone created the first generation. Boogie is the sound of slap bass, loud claps, melodic chords, and synthesizers. Boogie followed the last gasp of disco.

Boogie includes releases on labels like Prelude, Sam Records, late Waste End Records, late Brunswick, and U.K. labels like Elite. Boogie-ologists will mainly tell you it's from the '80s, and it encompasses Italo disco as well.

You can cop some dope mixes by Dam Funk on Stones Throw's podcast #28 and the recently dropped One Day Later set. I have yet to find any of his original production to download, so if you wanna' hook us all up, the comment section is open.

Final Notes: Be on the look out for 4onefunktion events monthly at the Elbo Room (including guest appearances at Free Funk Friday each second Friday).

AND: 4onefunk reconstructed a Dilla track. Amazing. Dilla's influence is unstoppable.

HARD SELL: Shadow and Cut Attack Turntablism

It's been nearly eight years since Cut Chemist and Dj Shadow unleashed the legendary 45 vinyl set, Brainfreeze, at Club 550 right here in foggy San Francisco. Last night, the duo returned to quite a different venue in SF, the opulent grandness of the Regency Ballroom, filled to the brim with all sorts of new school knuckleheads.

Things have certainly changed since Brainfreeze.

The cult classic has spread its wondrous seed across the country, giving birth to countless DJ sets infusing a similarly inspired funky soul concept. It would seem redundant for two of the most gifted sonic scientists to simply recreate the original Freeze set from eight years ago that would pose no challenge to their artistic abilities.

Sure enough, with word traveling quickly across hills and internet highways about the original Hard Sell show at the Hollywood Bowl some months ago, it was obvious that Shadow and Cut were not going to duplicate the past. The extended and revised version currently finishing its tour across the country seeks to push musical boundaries into some serious uncharted sonic territory.

In order to embark on such a sound-wave bending and blending journey, Shadow and Cut knew that they had to begin by schooling the kids suckling the teat of the digital age. A vintage style instructional video by Ben Stokes, narrated in the classic PBS style, set the basic rules of the 45 concept oriented set and provided an ample history lesson on a DJ tradition that may be on the verge of extinction.

Only original presses of 45s allowed. These discs have a real physicality in their little nooks and cascading grooves unlike the alienating quality of the virtual medium; MP3s. Each 7'' vinyl has a personalized label. As vintage objects, they have a history completely independent of the music. And therefore, yes - the conservatives gotta' remind the new schoolers - reissues are for cheaters!

The formal constraints of Hard Sell were thereby commanded and brought forth down Mount Sinai (well, the stage) to the ears of the people who had been sleeping with Serrato and getting drunk on iPods. Those fucking sinners.

Actually, before you abandon these false idols, Shadow and Cut made it quite clear that they are not in opposition to the advent of new DJing technology. They simply wanted to test their own musical talents as guided by the strictly 45 tradition.

And for the most part, Shadow and Cut worked their incredible techniques within these constraints in the broadest sense. They pushed aside the largely obscure funk and soul of Brainefreeze and part deux Product Placement in favor of genre twisting gymnastics and abstract sonic manipulation. Using eight turntables and effects processors to play with tones and echoes, they tore apart each genre into its bare elements, leaving a minimal pulse that then served as a catalyst for deconstructing the next targeted genre.

We were taken on a historical odyssey through percussion based music (including influences and roots) with an emphasis on the conceptual arrangement of the whole structure of the set rather than the transitions from one obscure soul side to the next. Sounds pretty insane right? Alright, let's try to break it down a little bit and then build it back up.

Hard Sell initially hit the decks with a rising staccato drumbeat underlying swishing spacey atmospherics and droney clashes. The sound immediately brought to mind some of the more abstract musique concrete, clashing everyday urban sounds with the dreary whirring of krautrock. While the drums burst forth consistently, sounds of trains and buzzing progressed into a pumping electronic beat. Cut and Shadow really worked the scratching, tearing apart the tone and melody so as to reconstruct the sounds with the mixer.

The scratching served as a transition for not only some breaks but full reconstructions of Classic Hiphop beats - most notably a rendition of Pharcyde’s “Passing me By,” leading into Apache - that was then cut into its basic pummeling elements for Nas’ “Made you look.” Cut and Shadow really showed off their skills by recreating good portions of De La Soul tracks from the 3 Feet High and Rising era. Plug one, plug two. . . I don’t think standing anyone around me knew what was going on even at this point – and it was only about to get stranger.

The short funky soul chapter slipped quickly into a chopped up medley of Cumbia, Psychedelic, Honky Tonk, New Wave, and straight up Rock N’ Roll. Rather than seamlessly mixing the tracks together by their driving rhythms, Cut and Shadow chopped up the beats into new sounds and progressions. However, it was not entirely apparent what unifying factor, if there really was anything besides the 45 concept, tied together the movement of sounds. I’m still struggling with the words to capture the fundamental concept that drove the set forward. It sounded like a David Axelrod arrangement cut up by the Scratch Pickles and then infused with progrock fuzzed out guitars and Atari bleeping atmospherics.

Making it even more difficult to understand, Shadow and Cut seemed to have three finales. First, the myriad themes of love songs, cheesy alt rock joints, video game effects and break on through to the other side psych whizzed off into a Twighlight Zone world of scraping musical saw loops and cosmic slop bursts on top of pounding bass heavy drums that literally shook your bones. It felt like Shadow and Cut were trying to shake you apart so you could listen to the uncanny music from outside yourself.

Second Finale: The duo strapped vintage portable turntables and mixers to their bodies like jedi warriors, toting DJ guitars and prepared for heavy metal. They offered a scratching rendition of Metallica’s “One” that made the crowd go crazy – if not for the quality of sound, then at least for the novelty. That was it. For the third and finale Shadow and Cut threw on some Al Green “Let's Stay Together” and called it a night.

Alright, I get the picture that the portable turntable guitar goes to show that the turntable is a serious instrument for not just mixing music together but for actually creating new music. Turntablists can manipulate sound out of recorded disparate elements and produce new patterns in the process. Is that it though? Is there more, or are we supposed to not take it any more seriously? I’m not sure, but I do know that this set challenged if not the concept of turntablism then at least the content of it, and will hopefully lead to an onslaught of committed experiments with this music – not just searching for the perfect beat, but reinterpreting what all that even means.

You can find the non-extended version of the Hard Sell.

Cop Brainfreeze and Product Placement.