Friday, September 23, 2005

Gotta Post Something That Means Something



The Pharcyde: Y (Be Like That) (Jaydee Remix)
from Drop 12-inch (Delicious Vinyl 1995)

The Pharcyde: She Said (Mike Caren Remix)
from She Said 12-inch (Delicious Vinyl 1996)



The Pharcyde's first album was a subtly misleading venture. The freeform production and songs like Ya Mama provided an air of quirkiness and levity (and not to mention the freeform, anatomically correct roller coaster cover) but that album can be thought of as more like the class clown who avoids getting his ass whipped through self-deprecation and by acting a fool. But because it received more critical acclaim for presenting a side of Los Angeles that wasn't obsessed with gangsterism and with presenting an easily palatable, humorous side of Hip Hop, it is now seen as the high point of their career and a departure from the rest of their discography (with each subsequent album labeled as being more mature and more focused). This is an assessment that I've always had a problem with. Did they become more "mature" with each proceeding album, particularly between Bizarre Ride and Labcabincalifornia? I'd argue no. The content of their message and the way it was delivered may have been more sophisticated when their second album dropped but I'll argue that their first album, despite some of it's puerile songs, was just as mature and just as conscious as anything on their second album. All you have to do is look at the song It's Jiggaboo Time that covers a subject that every "conscious" rapper has touched upon and will continue to examine, all the different way's that an artist sells out; the song ultimately ending in a mocking self-referential indictment that's as "mature" as it is satirical.

The difference between the first and second album isn't in the maturity of their lyrical content, but in the production and a bit in their delivery. More restrained and contemplative, the beats reflect the leap from the satiric nature of Bizarre Ride to a more prosaic form that comes from the burden of label politricking. The Jaydee Remix of Y, with it's new lyrics is one example. The song, more somber in tone, still has the hallmark Pharcyde sound with the sing song chorus and off kilter delivery.

The remix of She Said by Mike Caren (who happens to be Senior Veep of A&R at Atlantic and who signed Apathy of Demigodz fame) is a song that can be thought of as being more mature in content when compared to any of their previous outings, particularly after listening to Fatlip's verse about taking a girl home but not dicking her down, but really it's a song that could have probably fit in with their first album and nobody would have been none the wiser as some of their songs from their first album dealt with the same theme.

Unfortunately the Pharcyde of the first two albums no longer exists and with the exit of Fatlip, and Slimkid Tre, the group was left without their two most dynamic personalities, but credit has to be given as the other two, Romye and Imani still continue to plug away and make some decent, passable music.

Thursday, September 08, 2005

Intermission



Not an audio post per se, but it does have to do with audio and mp3's. For my fellow bloggers out there who would like to get there hands on an iPod nano, jump on over to The Unofficial Apple Weblog for a chance to win one. They're giving away a white one to one lucky and creative blogger. They look really nice (the nano and the site) and it requires very little from you so feel free to give it a try.

Meet Me At The Copa Again



Sam Cooke: If I Had a Hammer
from Sam Cooke at the Copa (ABCKO 1964)

Sam Cooke: This Little Light of Mine
from Sam Cooke at the Copa (ABCKO 1964)

Sam Cooke: Tennessee Waltz
from Sam Cooke at the Copa (ABCKO 1964)


Sam Cooke at the Copa is a significant album, not for the performance per se (it's nowhere near as intense as his Harlem Square Club performance), but because it is one of the few live recordings of Cooke that's readily available and because of that fact, it should be required listening for any fan of good music. It's also a sort of prodigal homecoming for Cooke who first performed at the Copa in 1958 but at the time left the crowd and critics less than half satisfied. I posted before on Sam Cooke and gushed about how fiery and soulful a live performer he is, but on this recording, playing to a mostly white audience, he is a lot more restrained though still an effective performer, and his ability to interpret a lyric masterfully is still present.

Listening to the first track If I Had A Hammer, a folk hit for The Weavers and later for Peter, Paul and Mary, one can hear that even a largely white audience reluctant to drop the veneer of decorum fall prey to Sam's ability to control a crowd. Picking himself up gracefully after missing a lyric early on, Cooke first leads the band in a call and response and then tries to coax the reluctant crowd into singing along. It takes a couple of verses but let's face it, with Cooke's gospel background and angelic voice, it's a wonder that it took the crowd that long to get into it.

This Little Light Of Mine is a gospel song that opens with a low chorus that sets the pace for the song. Finger snapping his way through it, Cooke is the reverend through and through and leads the band to its conclusion as it builds to a crescendo and then quickly brings itself low again and ends with a call and response. The final song is one that should be easily recognizable if any other singer covered it, but Cooke's rendition of the Patty Page classic is sped up to a frenetic and soulful pace, which he even acknowledges as the song opens. The song is beautifully interpreted not only by Cooke, listen to his improvisations, but also by the conductor Rene Hall who sets the tempo and instrumentation perfectly to go along with the lyrics, building the song up to not only accentuate the feeling but also to allow Cooke his graceful bowing out of the concert.

Recorded just five months prior to his death, Sam Cooke at the Copa is a fascinating piece of work. When juxtaposed with his recording at the Harlem Club the albums are like night and day, seemingly two mutually exclusive phenomena but they are in fact an inclusive portrait of the man as a performer: powerful, captivating soulful and musically inclined towards sublimity. And despite having to cater his performance towards the largely white audience, it is still as effective and as breathtaking as you would expect.