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

Buy from Fake Four Records and follow Factor on the Twitter machine for updates.

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

Someone call the cops! Shad was robbed!

Admittedly I really like Shad. I made that clear when his last album came out. It may be cliched for a white guy who occasionally listens to independent music (re: mostly) to say he likes “conscious” rap music, but the fact that Shad’s music tends towards the cerebral is one big part of why I love that album. The same goes for Shad’s new record as well.

TSOL is a terrific progression from The Old Prince and it shows that Shad’s paying attention. He knows that music he’s been making for the last five years stands alone and he’s not venturing too far out of the arena he’s already occupying; instead he’s he’s tweaking the show only slightly while he waits for the audience to realize what he’s doing and file into the building.

The central theme to the album seems to be equal parts love and respect and a question of what and who defines those characteristics. Shad strikes a much more positive stance than on his previous album, the equally wonderful breakthrough The Old Prince. On that record he was much more down-trodden, even on the more excitable tracks like the attention-grabbing anti-bling “The Old Prince Still Lives At Home.” Despite the humourous bent of the song it was still at its heart about Shad not being able to make a living through his music, a theme revisited on other songs. “Out Of Love Pt. 2″ carried through a thread lamenting loneliness and the perceived negative impact it has had on Shad’s music.

But things have changed. Here he sounds downright ebullient, joyous, even. He’s still referencing bible verses, mentions his love of napping several times, and throws everything including the kitchen sink into his arrangements. But he seems like he’s enjoying the process more than ever.

A testament to that fact is the predominance of upbeat tracks on TSOL. Where “The Old Prince Lives At Home” was one of the only really upbeat, “banging” (I can’t believe I just wrote that) tracks on The Old Prince, TSOL boasts a few numbers that are downright rocking. Chief among them is the most rocking number and my personal favourite track, “We, Myself, And I,” one of the last songs on the record. Not only is it a highly bombastic track from a musical standpoint, it’s also lyrically ambitious (maybe even audacious?); after opening with a callback to his last record (”I don’t normally like to start verses with ‘I’ but…”) Shad offers three verses, each distinctly centering around analytical musings about himself, where he and his music fit in the world, and the current state of the world at large. The wordplay, the giant hooks, and his lyrical deftness is as impressive as ever on this track and its hard not to get swept up in his instructional chorus.

He’s also taking an inspirational stance here in more ways than one. Yes, he opens the record by referencing the bible; yes, he exclaims at one point that, “Staying true to Jesus (pronounced “Hay-zeus”) is harder than fake boobs.” But he also looks to his family for inspiration. He once again samples recordings of his parents at various points on the album and the gorgeous “A Good Name” is a tribute to his ancestry that has literally brought tears to my eyes. Shad traces his lineage to his family’s ancestral home in Africa and the larger-than-life figure his full first name is taken from while also offering his father the “mad props” he now realizes are well deserved for raising a family right despite the trials and tribulations of life.

As if Shad needed to differentiate himself any more, he also offers up one of the most respectful rap songs ever written about the women in his life. He offers thanks to his sisters, cousins, aunts, his mother, and every other woman in his life that is a “clever broad with goals like Federov.” And he means it.

All along the way the songs are jam-packed with live instruments, deft scratching, and a huge, full sound miles away from spare arrangements on old songs like “I Heard You Had A Voice Like An Angel.” Tracks like “Yaa, I Get It” (the closest he gets to cynicism and proof that even the most positive person can have their weak moments) and “We, Myself, and I” sound like organized chaos with sound coming from all directions at all times. Several tracks, most noticeably “Rose Garden,” feature well-integrated samples that, in some cases, provide or augment the hook.

Inspirational without being cloying or heavy-handed, clever without having to wink at the audience to let them in on the joke, personal without being self-obsessed (*cough* Kanye *cough*), honest without being a martyr, and unique without having to rely on bizarreness, TSOL is the rap album of 2010. You’ve outdone yourself, Shad. That Polaris should’ve been yours; hopefully you can still get your own place one of these days.

 

 Shad - A Good Name [2:28m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 Shad - We, Myself, and I [3:42m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Get TSOL and other rad Shad works from iTunes.
Physical release and other merch (including an awesome “I want a Claire Huxtable” shirt) from Shad’s online store.

Pat entries awesomeness, Best of 2010, Canadian content, hip hop, rap, Shad

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

There’s something to be said about musicians that aren’t really talented. Usually they’re very bad but excel at self-promotion and suckering people into making their product better than they would ever be able to on their own.

Having said that, I love the Lonely Island guys. Be it their Saturday Night Live digital shorts or their new album, Incredibad, I really dig what they’re putting down. The video and song above for “I’m On A Boat” are likely the single greatest thing I’ve seen and listened to this year. If there’s one thing the group does best in the musical realm, it is spot-on satirizing of grandiose hip-hop song structure and content.

While “I’m On A Boat” is the most well-known example, album track “Like A Boss” comes in a close second in that regard. Andy Samberg professes his aptitude as lead of a generalized office environment in a tone-perfect send-up of every hardened rapper ever, lending authentic menace and incredible juxtaposition to buzzword-speak like, “Promote synergy,” and “Direct workflow.” From there his braggadocio extends to detailing a manic and ludicrous average workday that includes sucking his own dick and eating chicken strips.

The hip-hop send-ups are by far the most successful aspects of the disc, which explains why there are so many of them. Also a nice touch is the raspy delivery on “Boombox,” which ratchets up the tension of the ludicrous verses before the dude from the Strokes comes on and actually makes a song better for once in his life. Lyrically it is a little bizarre; I’m not really certain where Samberg got the idea that bourgeoisie white folks eat a lot of boiled goose, but its a pretty good joke.

Less successful are most of the skits on the album, which much like a regular rap CD are horrendous. There’s a few songs that feel unfinished, especially one-note ideas like “Space Olympics” that rely a lot on the accompanying videos to really help the jokes land.

The total product has an odd duality to it. Like most comedy albums, much of the material loses its luster upon repeat spins. But it also feels like about half the tracks transcend comedy album status; if I heard “I’m On A Boat” or “Jizz In My Pants” in a nightclub, I’d be dancing. So what we’re left with is exactly what every record label is after: an album that has to be purchased to get the maximum enjoyment out of it. The DVD included in the physical package is going to make all the difference and really prop up some of the slower, more staid moments.

That’s a really smart move for a group releasing its first album and a sure step towards producing a second one. I know I’ll look forward to it.

 

 the Lonely Island - Like A Boss [1:47m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 the Lonely Island - Punch You In The Jeans [2:47m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Incredibad can be purchased digitally from iTunes, where they’re like number one all the time or something. If you’re into things that are totally incongruent and unnecessary, you can purchase this music, on which there is only one single actual instrument in the whole works, on vinyl LPz. CD is available on InSound too.

Pat entries Add new tag, comedy, hip hop, Saturday Night Live, the Lonely Island

12. Shad - the Old Prince
Was 2008 a banner year for Canadian hip-hop? I don’t know. I don’t know what it would take for Canadian hip-hop to have a good year, but I suspect that the simple fact that at least five rap albums were released over the year would show that it was a pretty good one. While former Pitchfork writer Rollie Pemberton’s Cadence Weapon project got most of the attention and acclaim, more consistent and entertaining artists like Buck 65 and Shad fell somewhat by the wayside. Shad made a play for attention by inexplicably remaking the intro to the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air with his excellent single “the Old Prince Lives At Home.” That track is a bit of an anomaly though, as the number of love-lorn, world-weary, introspective think pieces on the album are far more prevalent. For me the standout is “I Heard You Had A Voice Like An Angel/Psalm 137,” wherein a sombre, almost defeated-sounding Shad laments the impact of the music business on talented black performers. The gorgeous musical arrangement (featuring Shad’s underrated guitar playing) fits perfectly with the heartbreaking and understated delivery, a perfect example of the depth and candor he’s capable of. The two tracks are excellent counterpoints and in a year where mainstream hip-hop was virtually non-existent (aside from Lil’ Wayne) it’s artists like Shad that make me hopeful for the future.

11. Basia Bulat - Oh, My Darling
This terrific debut LP from the Ontario singer-songwriter with the unusual name struck a chord with me from the first time I heard the opening track. While “Before I Knew” was later reprised in it’s full, expanded form on a 7″ single (with a great Sam Cooke cover on the A-side), the version that opens this album is the perfect introduction to an artist the entire nation has slept on for too long. Leading into “I Was A Daughter,” without a doubt one of the finest tracks of the year, shows the value of attentive sequencing. After that one-two punch you’re hooked and you won’t want to stop listening until the end. While it may seem like folk artists have exhausted the genre’s ideas, songs as well-constructed as these aren’t rote by any stretch of the imagination.

10. Hold Steady - Stay Positive
They may never again reach the dizzying heights of Boys and Girls In America, but this bands second-best is still superior to most of what’s out there. While choruses are more prevalent and Craig Finn is even taking singing lessons, the changes are subtle enough to make for a smooth transition. If you can get past “Constructive Summer” without smiling, playing a little air guitar, or sing-talking along then you may not have a soul.

The Old Prince is available at your local music store (if you’re Canadian), sometimes through CDBaby, and iTunes.
Oh, My Darling is available through iTunes and Rough Trade
Stay Positive exceeds the hyperbole; find it on the web and iTunes

Pat entries Basia Bulat, Best of, Buck 65, Cadence Weapon, folk, hip hop, Hold Steady, indie rock, rap, rock, Sam Cooke, Shad, Stay Positive, the Old Prince

Boy, I haven’t written here in months. Yeah. Life. What’re you going to do?

Well, I’m going to write. I decided the best way to remedy my lack of posting here was to write about a song that I have been enjoying all summer long. I never imagined it would stay with me well into autumn, which is when I usually like to move to the warmer songs in my catalogue. Your Springsteens and your Elvis Costellos. The space heaters of my music collection. I can hear the power and the heat in their urgent vocals and it gives me a rush of warmth. Which is why I’m surprised to find myself still digging this song.

Because M.I.A.’s “Paper Planes” is not warm. There’s energy here, but it’s a cold one. All sharp angles and harsh sounds. Damn the man, and while you’re at it, steal his shit and sell it back to him. Which is not to say I don’t like the song. Quite the contrary. It’s weird, because I’ve seen M.I.A. live, and she throws a fucking party. I mean it. You come to her show, you better get up and dance, hipster. No lingering in the back for you. She’ll pull you up on stage to shake what your mama gave you.

M.I.A. has been on my radar for a couple of years now, but this song, from her second album, Kala, catapulted her to the top of the heap. Maybe because I love the Clash so much and the sampling of “Straight to Hell” is so genius I’m a little bit in love with her. There’s a certain vain egotrip to being a rock critic, but I always assume that if I like something, a shit-ton of other people will like it, too. And while I like the original song, I’m more in love with the Diplo remix, which is from the Homeland Security Remixes album. 

Paper Planes is a combination of gritty politics and choice messages for those with power who would abuse it and those without power who only want to make a living. The politics on display here are not just M.I.A.’s “The man hates refugees in America” vibe, but also Joe Strummer’s “Immigrants get fucked over” message. It sure ain’t coca-cola. Not to mention the hustler’s screed of “It’s all in the game” street politics of “play or be played” from lyrical gangsters Bun B. and Rich Boy. The line “You can call five oh and five oh might come, but by the time they arrive all the dirt’s been done” sounds like it could’ve come straight from the lips of the late, great Omar on the equally late and great HBO show, “The Wire.”

Forget how many times you heard the chorus to this song in the trailer for Pineapple Express, this song is the SHIT. M.I.A. has beefed up the Clash loop a little. It’s fuller, fatter and perfectly at home with her laid back vocals and lazy lyrics about immigrants cashing in on the American dream.

My favourite lines? “Get your Robin Hood on/Put some pressure on the man” is a runner up only to “Excuse me, let me introduce my lady: her name is Beretta and she motherfuckin’ crazy.”

Awesome.

Without the rhymes, this song is perfectly serviceable. It’s full of hooks and sounds and kids singing, which I’m sure M.I.A.’s patron saint Strummer would approve of, but M.I.A. is purposefully aloof and detached and Bun B. and Rich Boy are not. It’s the rap that gives this version some added force and grit and the, I don’t know, growling, seething anger it needs to become better than it is.

 

 MIA - Paper Planes (Diplo remix): Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

You can get this shit from iTunes. Or, right here.

Tanis entries beats, Bun B., Diplo, hip hop, M.I.A., rap, remix, Rich Boy, samples, the Clash, the Wire

So apparently — according to one of my own hand-slected contributors — I’m a hippie for liking Common.

That’s all well and good — but it was framed as if that might be a bad thing. I’m not sure that it is, but on the off-chance that Sam is right, I present this song as a counter-point. My hope is that by liking both ODB and Common he will realize that I have awesome and well-rounded taste.

Anyway, here’s one of the most totally awesome songs ever. RIP, BBJ.

 

 ODB - I Can't Wait [4:00m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

ODB rocks the shit, people:
iTunes: solo rekkidz galore
Wu Tang “corporate” headquarters: i’m not sure what you’ll find here, but the new Clan record is on its way…

Pat entries hip hop, Ol Dirty Bastard, rap, Wu Tang Clan

One of my favourite rap artists (and one of the few rappers you can call artists) working today is a gent by the name of Common. When he’s not acting in big budget movies with Jeremy Piven or cutting ads for Coca-Cola, he puts out albums that are consistently terrific. He’s done a lot of what some people call, “conscious hop-hop,” and his lyrics show a lot of intelligence and concern for America’s black community.

A big part of the appeal for me is a lack of bravado, ego, and arrogance in his music (even though most of his material – including his entire last album – is produced by Kanye). One of the standouts on his latest, Finding Forever, features guest vocals from one of this summer’s it-girls (Lily Allen), but what really steals the show is Common’s terrific use of pop-culture references to keep the song light while simultaneously calling out talented rappers who try too hard to be famous.

My favourites? Allusions to Lisa Nowak, the NASA astronaut who drove across the country wearing diapers to confront the woman who was dating a fellow astronaut she was obsessed with, and OKGO’s infamous treadmill video. Enjoy.

 

 Common - Drivin' Me Wild (w/ Lily Allen) [3:43m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Common’s music (including his superior earlier albums) can be found:
iTunes: all over this thing
web store: one of few artists with their own mp3 web store

Pat entries Common, conscious, hip hop, Kanye West, Lily Allen, rap

You don’t have to dial 1-900-RAEKWON to know shit is real. The Wu-Tang Clan is not only the greatest rap crew in history (you know I’m right), but also one of the most enterprising. On top of their pioneering multi-label deal, they hit big with the Wu-Wear clothing line (which I have been known to rock from time to time), Wu-themed comic books, even a Ghostface action figure that says “Bitch, I fucked your friend/yeah, you stank ho.”

The Wu’s most ambitious marketing gimmick, however, is likely 1999’s Shaolin Style video game for the original PlayStation system.

Shaolin may not be the best fighting game out there — hell, it might not even make sense, but there’s something magical about picking up a controller and — as the GZA — beating the fuck out of people using Shaolin’s finest kung fu techniques.

Essentially, the plot goes like this: Xin, the Clan’s kung fu master, is kidnapped by the evil warlord Mong Zhu, who wants to learn the secrets of the Wu-Tang discipline. He ends up killing Xin, ripping off part of the guy’s chest (depicted in cutscenes that are actually quite impressive)…and it’s the Wu’s goal to stop him and avenge their master.

Or something. It doesn’t really matter. Basically you walk around alleys kicking the shit out of anonymous ninjas. Shaolin Style is the overlord of all button-mashers. There are apparently pre-set moves, but it’s next to impossible to figure them out, so you basically have Method Man (or whoever) doing random things on screen as you press as many buttons as possible.

Unlike most fighting games, the characters can’t even jump. It’s not even that easy to tell who’s who, but it doesn’t matter. Where else can you, in the role of the late Ol’ Dirty Bastard, decapitate a guy while saying “don’t mess with Big Baby Jesus”?

That alone makes Shaolin one of the best video games ever. It’s by no means the first music-themed game — I had Journey’s Escape cartridge for my Atari 2600, and I was a big fan of the Aerosmith Revolution X arcade game (mainly because I got to shoot Steven Tyler in his stupid face, although that didn’t get me any points) — but it’s probably the best.

For another thing, the game is laced with actual Wu music. RZA instrumentals abound, and the PlayStation disc can be played in any regular CD player if you want to hear two Wu exclusives as well as a bunch of beats.

The songs themselves aren’t that hot. It’s obvious RZA and co. knew they were writing for a video game soundtrack so they weren’t really on their A-game. They are, however, Wu-Tang songs, which makes them instantly awesome.

Also, if you’re like me and you’re getting antsy about the December release of 8 Diagrams and need to get your Wu fix, check out Wu-Peanuts, some of the funniest shit I’ve seen in a long time.

I have no clue what these songs are called. I’m sure they have titles, but it doesn’t matter. All things Wu can be found at http://www.wutangcorp.com.

 

 Wu-Tang Clan - Shaolin Style Track 2: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 Wu-Tang Clan - Shaolin Style Track 3: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Sam entries hip hop, rap, video games, Wu Tang Clan