Sound Salvation Army

Do you want to know what the worst song in the world is?

There’s an old adage about too many cooks spoiling the broth and that’s exactly what happens on P. Diddy and Busta Rhymes’ “Pass The Courvoisier.” It is the worst. There are seventeen credited songwriters on that single song and it is a cliched, garbled, clumsy mess that exists for no good reason. It is an example of everything that Factor’s Lawson Graham isn’t.

Wholesale critique of Lawson Graham is difficult because of the range and scope of what’s on display. My review of Factor’s collaborative album with Awol One was a simpler feat because it was a cohesive unit throughout, two people getting together to produce a singular piece of work. But here we have 13 out of 18 tracks featuring 15 collaborators; that’s a lot of voices, especially considering the album is credited to the one guy whose voice is never heard.

Complicating the matter is the fact that this is a tribute of sorts to Factor’s grandfather, the titular Lawson Graham. Thankfully Factor has not asked 15 other musicians to discuss a person they never met and don’t know, instead letting the patient and intricate musical tapestry serve as the cohesive bedrock for the album.

Opening track “Bengough Station” (Saskatchewan represents) sets a low-key tone with live drums and samples of trains and rainfall. Factor pushes traditional hip hop further back with the first full song, “Missed the Train.” It features his Common Grackle partner Gregory Pepper singing the melody and a few chorus lines of Elliott Smith’s “500 Miles” with his own sung verses slipped in between (meaning no raps on this track). The elegant backing track again features live drums, gentle guitar, and some piano and string work as well. Halfway through there is some scratching thrown into the mix as well. In all it’s a brilliant introduction, boasting some further production tricks to up the intricacy. It also lets the listener know that you’re going to be hearing a lot more melody, pop, and folk elements than you’ll find in a typical rap release.

The rest of the record is a dizzying combination of hand claps, woodwind instruments, samples from every genre of music, and some fantastic vocal contributions. Highlights include the somber “Ain’t Nothin’ Gonna Change,” a downtrodden, sample-heavy number featuring Barfly and Heresy Mae that encourages the listener to reluctantly go with the flow and accept that nothing will stay the same. “More Than Love” is a personal favourite thanks to its sprightly, tweaked arrangement and an incredibly charismatic performance from Kirby Dominant. While he may begin the track by gleefully explaining that somehow, “My penis was too formal,” he also ties the album’s mood together by reminding us that “If you want to live happily ever after you must first write them other chapters,” and, “The moral of the fable is you need to bring something to the table.”

However it seems Factor is leaving any inspirational spirit and uplifting moments almost entirely to the tracks with vocals. His five instrumental numbers are the other side of the coin: quieter, low-key, contemplative, atmospheric. If the album is a remembrance of a lost family member these are the moments where you’re missing them the most, the shoe-gazing moments leading up to family events where a seat is kept empty.

This is collaboration done right and I guarantee you’re unlikely to hear an album in any genre that pulls material from so many sources and creates a coherent whole out of it. It’s a truly engaging listen that goes beyond simple curiosity; it clearly is a labour of love and that comes across in every beat.

 

 Factor - Missed The Train (ft. Gregory Pepper) [2:41m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 Factor - More Than Love (ft. Kirby Dominant) [3:59m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

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Pat entries Factor, Grandpas, hip hop, production, rap, tributes

This record had so much promise.

The second collaboration between Saskatoon, Saskatchewan’s Factor and L.A.’s Awol One, this album is a crystal-clear example of why I’m simultaneously hopeful and yet totally disillusioned with modern rap music.

Most of the good will engendered on Owl Hours comes courtesy of Factor’s beat-making prowess. He’s a capable producer, able to deftly swing from blissful, synth-heavy arrangements to crafting tracks that combine the talents of an assembled group of live musicians and subtly-programmed drum loops. The first track is the former, a tight drum loop guiding a series of distorted synth-runs for a spare musical bed augmented by his own scratching on the song’s back end. Other cuts (like “Celebrate,” “Back Then”) boast minor key synths and softer sounds, one number late in the album coming across like a lost Postal Service number crafted with 808 snares. It’s a sophisticated, at times understated, palate that shows why rappers from xzibit to Busdriver have tapped Factor for tracks. Hell, one of the drum loops on “Official” sounds like it could’ve been pulled off one of Trent Reznor’s most industrial tracks (”Gave Up” from the Broken EP specifically).

Now: while the album’s two principle performers have a good chemistry and seem to be on the same page on most of these songs, that doesn’t mean this album is all highs. Trust me, there are lows.

I don’t want to take too much away from Awol based solely on these songs. He seems like a perfectly capable lyricist for the most part, but there’s something about his performance that makes it seem like he has something better to do than putting vocals down on tape. His raspy voice sounds almost detached, almost preoccupied on most of these songs. I don’t want to say bored, but I feel compelled to. Even when trying to explain his passion for music with a line like, “You don’t know what the rap life costs,” he comes off flat. The few moments where his voice really seems to fit are on “Brains Out,” a cast-off capital-h Hard Rapping track filled with braggadocio and misogynist posturing, and “Back Then,” which is an honest and relatable tale of love gone wrong. A sentiment that may be rote in rock music is far from it in rap and the tenuous singing voice displayed at the song’s beginning (which I’m assuming is Awol) perfectly displays how genuine the emotion of the tune is, how he wants to make his feelings known to this former lover even though it may be difficult. Its nice to see that vulnerability, especially because it keeps Factor in the spotlight. Unfortunately he gets overshadowed on several of the songs with guest vocalists, due simply to the fact that they seem to have a stronger vocal presence.

There are other tracks where the vocals and lyrics work a lot better, where they’re paired very well with Factor’s tracks (”Celebrate,” “Destination,” “Sunset Sandwich”). But I’m afraid there are a couple of moments that are too depressing for me to overcome.

First and foremost: I expect more from indie rappers than tracks like “Brains Out” and “Waste The Wine.” Maybe we’re on a different page but I feel like there are more than enough (re: any) songs in mainstream rap music that advocate slapping “bitches” on the ass, girls with big asses, fucking in a Mercedes, girls with big titties, girls with big-ass titties, ladies “juggling these motherfucking nuts” in their mouths, messing with groupies, being “hard” and shooting guns. That ground has been covered. I always hope that independent rappers will bring something new to the party, but these songs are awful retreads of “gangster” posturing that have no redemptive value. There’s simply no need for these staid themes of misogyny and violence. Thankfully Awol seems to stay away from those tropes for the most part, leaving them to unnecessary guest spots. But its kind of sad to see that element creep into the songs if that isn’t the featured rapper’s MO.

Also, can we just put a blanket ban on rappers saying, “Check the flow,” or any such derivative entreaty to listen to what they’re saying? It’s a fucking rap song; the “flow” is why people are listening. Asking is redundant.

In summation: this would be an interesting and thoughtful rap record with genuinely engaging beats if it didn’t devolve into stereotypical thuggisms and purposefully offensive, cartoonish sexism. Hopefully Awol and Factor get it right on their next venture and leave out the guest vocalists and unfortunate posturing.

 

 Awol One & Factor - Back Then (with Gregory Pepper & Ceschi) [3:32m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 Awol One & Factor - Stand Up (with Myka & Aesop Rock) [3:28m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Pat entries Awol One, Factor, hip hop, Owl Hours, rap