Showing posts with label rock. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rock. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

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

Monday, May 18, 2009

Live Cuts: Soulive Get Down

Soulive pt. 1 - Live Independent SF 05-15-09


Soulive pt. 2 - Live Independent SF 05-15-09


Recording my live cuts series at San Francisco's Independent couldn't get better. No searches, no accusatory glares at my hand held recording device which might just look explosive, and an amazing sound system. You know, I really need to research the legality behind what I'm doing.

Anyway, Soulive brought the heat! Three hours of the heat. They jumped off on the pure funk tip fresh from their new album, Up Here, piecing together a revitalized arrangement of Michael Viner's breakdance anthem, Apache. Peep the Soulive pt. 1 live cut right above. Listen to the brass section, the Shady Horns, just carry that groove to the funkified oblivion of the mothership! Singer songwriter Nigel Hall impressed everyone with the diversity of his flow, covering the works of James Brown and Curtis Mayfield with a soulful crooning completely idionsyncratic to his own style. Yet, Soulive went far beyond rejuvenating the classic grooves; they funkified their way into new space rock territory and funky soul outer reaches and uplifting call and response jams.

They arranged the nearly three hour set into a coherent meditation on the funk. The band streamlined their meandering styles with an expert subtlety, giving credence to their efforts as a tightly nit band. Yet, each personality had its time to shine. Each composition opened up endless solo improvisation on the drums, the horns, the keyboards and the organs, the guitars. . . the unstoppable grooves. At one point in the show, guitarist Eric Krasno and keyboardist Neal Evans calmly left the stage to imbibe in some drink while drummer Alan Evans blew up the spot on the solo percussion until they returned to continue the jam minutes later. The funk just keeps going on and on and on.

Friday, June 6, 2008

Gaslamp kills Minna

The last time I crashed a Minna party I nearly fell asleep on the couch out of boredom, so it's been a minute since I've checked out the spot. Last night the musical lineup including Los Angeles' The Motherfucking Gaslamp Killer (Willow) as well as Daedelus made me recheck my distaste for the venue and give it another chance.

Typically Minna exhibits sub par contemporary art that bites other styles. Some of the colors and neo-surrealism compositions are pretty, but they lack the raw inspiration of an artist who is captivated by the need to express something higher. Are my expectations too high? Luckily, it's pretty easy to let the art fade into the background when you got some amazing DJ's cutting it up on the ones and twos who are gripped by just that sort of inspiration.

I'm really talking about the Gaslamp Killer who rapidly clicked, and dervish like spun, and vigorously scratched his vinyl donuts while rocking his Jewish fro up and down, crazily flipping his fingers with the percussion as if the poltergeist of the music possessed his body. That's some spiritual release right there.

Gaslamp commenced the set with some hard hitting boom bap Hiphop riding soul samples like Ghostface and Dilla (can I get a copy of Jaylib 2 yet damn it?) mixed seamlessly with percussion driven beats (including some new shit by Flying Lotus.) The straightedge genres of music soon became more blurred as Gaslamp slided into the mix some dirty cosmic psychedelic and alt rock while turning up the highs so hard that the crackling bass shook the silly metal installations hanging on the wall.

The drums continued to tie the dusty grooves together as the hype grew quickly into some more obscure funk tracks from India and Africa as well as some yelping psych funk straight outta' Turkey. The obscurity led into classic American funk that slammed the dance floor with the gospel anthem "Save" featuring Arethra Franklin's distinctive soul crooning carried by a swift drum break. The progression demonstrated an aggressive understanding of music as emotional release and spiritual restoration. The dance floor seemed to agree.

Gaslamp wanted everyone to remember his own roots as a rave head before he started spinning all that Hiphop, funk, and soul, and beyond shit. The story goes that Gaslamp's endtroduction to DJ Shadow served as the bridge into this this parallel universe of sonic listening. So the sound crept up in bpm even more as Gaslamp filtered in clashing electro swaying with horns and booming with synths. Fitting as an end to this set, Pilooski's Franki Valli re-edit, "Beggin'" dropped to finish shit off.

Don't know about that Gaslamp Killer blow your mind and grab your soul shit? Two months ago he released the sun blazing heat, "i spit on your grave" mix off Obey Records. Support the artist too, the box set comes with some goodie snacks.



Or maybe you're in LA sometimes? Be sure to check out the Low End Theory Wednesday nights at the Airliner in Lincoln Heights. Can someone bring this weekly event to San Francisco, apparently they got a monthly in NY already? Last night shows that the Bay needs and wants some of that genre bending Hiphop inspired psych, funk, soul, electro, reggae, world madness.