In discussion with Trusme on “Forevernevermore” by Moodymann (2000).
I doubt that „Forevernevermore“ was your first encounter with Moodymann. Did you eagerly await his third album, and how did it grab you?
100% I didn’t know who Kenny was till I found a copy of “Forevernevermore” in my friend’s record bag. He had left his records at my house and I was doing the usual noseying though the records when I found this CD. I was completely into Slum Village, MadLib and Jaydee collecting the samples from Jazz to Disco. When I first played this CD, everything just became clear in my mind. This is the sound I was looking for, from Hip Hop, House, Jazz, Soul and Disco all rolled into one. I became obsessed, wanting to understand the production techniques and went on to discover the whole world of Detroit right after this. Three years on, Moodymann was playing my first LP launch in a pub on Oldham street, home to where I had been buying his records for the past few years. KDJ and Theo were just No.1 at that time in Manchester and I couldn’t help but be influenced by the whole sound.
It seems that Moodymann matured up to the release „Forevernevermore“ in terms of the album format. „Silent Introduction“ felt like an anthology of 12“ material, even though it worked as an album. But with „Mahogany Brown“ he already aimed at a listening experience more true to the format. Would you say he topped this with „Forevernevermore“?
Yes, for sure. The whole LP worked as a cohesive hour of music yet there was something at every turn that was unique and compelling to me as a listener. I related to this LP in more ways than one, due to it’s almost Hip Hop nature with intros and outros connecting the tracks and glueing the whole piece together. There are so many seminal tracks on the LP that are still played out in the clubs today, yet they are tracks that remain LP cuts and for home listening only. This ideology is what I have embraced in all four LPs that I have produced over the last 8-9 years, with something for the dancefloor, something for the car and wherever else that one listens to LPs these days.
You told me that you wanted to talk about the CD version of „Forevernevermore“, which has lots of interludes and skits, and hidden tracks. Do they form an alliance with the music that almost works like a radio play? What is the special appeal of it?
When I think of an LP, I think of A Tribe Called Quest, Marvin Gaye or The Verve even. All these LPs are constructed to be a continuous piece of music, in which the listener is taken on a journey from the beginning to the end. With the CD format, there is extra playtime in which intros and outros can give a context to the background and making of the LP. On the “Forevernevermore” CD you are taken into the home of KDJ, as he sits playing with ideas on the piano with his child, to the studio discussions and even to listening to his local radio for inspiration. Hidden right at the end of the CD is a live recording of three hard-to-find cuts from the KDJ label, mixed together after 2 mins of silence. In many ways the CD provides the platform for further expression as an artist in the format of an LP.
I think the sound of „Forevernevermore“ was a step forward in terms of his distinctive sound. It was still dense and immersive, but also more refined. Do you think Moodymann’s sound evolved on „Forevernevermore“ in comparison to earlier works? And was it for the better?
This was for sure in an LP sense his best work. It is what most people say as their favourite work, when talking about Moodymann. He carved a sound out all for himself and also derived a unique long player format that until then was not seen in the dance scene. Most underground dance LPs were merely a collection of 12” tracks but this felt more like a well thought-out process, something like Daft Punk would execute. I believe Peacefrog Records also helped in this process and pushed KDJ, as they did all their artists to reach even further. In many ways, earlier LPs were a collection of his previous works but “Forevernevermore” was an LP made from beginning to end with a single LP idea and it feels very much that way.
Tracks like the Disco led „Don’t You Want My Love“ display a confidence to transcend mere club credentials for traditional songwriting, a path he followed ever since. Is there a side to Moodymann the producer you prefer to others, or is it not necessary to differentiate his persona as an artist?
The marriage between your typical MPC studio production and live instrumentation was what set out Kenny on his own. Working with local artists like the percussionist Andres, bass with Paul Randolph and keyboards by Amp Fiddler, on top of that raw production sound was just so unique. The juxtaposition of quantised groove and loose musicianship created a genre of its own and is still being replicated today. This LP was the beginning of that sound and Kenny is still using this formula very much in his productions today.
How do you rate the albums Moodymann released since „Forevernevermore“? Were they up to par with your expectations?
“Black Mahogani” is on par for me if not more refined than “Forevernevermore” but maybe it’s the rawness of the LP that better relates to me. With the following LPs I have enjoyed the productions but felt slightly less connection to the music I listen to and make today. Not that it’s not great music, but I started to feel that the tracks in the EP releases didn’t have that Peacefrog touch of which I’m such an admirer. The LP process began to evolve towards the creation of a new sound where he begins to sing and perform more as an artist and less in the background as a producer. Read the rest of this entry »
The now defunct UK magazine The Face used to end each issue with a one-liner, but when I read the words “Vocals Matter” there sometime in the mid 90s, it deeply afflicted me. Was there really a need to point this out? In fact there was. A vocalist and a song were basic elements of House Music since its early days in the Mid 80s. Which was not really surprising, after all House was a direct continuation of what started in the mid 70s with Soul and then Disco, and instrumentals where the exception, and not the rule. Then Garage House already displayed its origins in its name, the combination of the music played in both New York’s Paradise Garage and Chicago’s Warehouse. But after its heyday in the first half of the 90s, Garage House’s popularity was gradually declining. The clubs got bigger, and the sounds followed suit. The songs, however, seemed to get weaker in the process, and eventually a good tune became the exception. It might be a bit simplistic to argue that it is much easier to produce a good track than a good song, but comparatively there are not many artists left even trying. I am publishing an ongoing chronological series of mixes consisting of personal Vocal House favourites from the past until the present, and I picked a few overlooked gems for this guide.
Dance Advisory Commission – Free Your Mind (Yesterday’s Mix) (12th Avenue Records 1991)
The sole release on this imprint operated by Ben “Cozmo D” Cenac. Produced by David Anthony, who revived this track for a release on Emotive the following year. But the original record has the better versions. Eternal self-liberation on the floor imperatives, carried by a subtle Hip House aftermath breakbeat, which is just effortlessly swinging.
Swing Out Sister – Notgonnachange (Mix Of Drama) (Fontana 1992)
The Def Mix productions cannot be overestimated in Garage House history. 1992 was probably the year that saw more Vocal led House releases than any other year, as the Majors employed an increasing number of club DJs and producers to sprinkle some nocturnal stardust and dancefloor credentials on their chart bound artists. And so you have the most consistent remixer of the genre, Frankie Knuckles, turning UK Blue-Eyed Soulsters into a showstopping symphony of baroque proportions. His way of arranging pianos and strings into lush elegance is really distinct. It is also totally timeless.
Darryl D’Bonneau – Say You’re Gonna Stay (New Generation 1992)
The original masterpiece, hidden on a mini-compilation by a label supposedly affiliated with New Generation, the home of most of the weird and wonderful Larry P. Rauson productions. The track had a second life on Jellybean in 1995, albeit in way less intense versions. The interaction of main and background vocals here is pure perfection, the vocal performance is anyway. The song is an eight minute plea for forgiveness that is beyond par. I would not believe anybody telling me that she actually did not forgive him after hearing this.
K. London Posse Featuring Dawn Tallman – Caught In Luv (Rhythm Mix Vocal) (K4B Records 1994)
From 1993 on Garage House was played to increasingly bigger crowds, and the sweet melodies of former years were now often replaced by a Gospel led urgency, and heavier sounds. Producers like Masters At Work, Mood II Swing or Louie “Balo” Guzman showed the way, and many producers followed. Including Kingsley O., who released a string of high quality records on his K4B label that paired Diva plus team delivery with considerably twisted dubs. Buying double copies to combine both to best effect became mandatory.
Loveland – Hope (Never Give Up) (Junior’s Factory Vocal) (Eastern Bloc Records 1994)
NYC’s Sound Factory was the temple of the new booming Garage House sound, and Junior Vasquez was its adamant high priest. His rules and requirements for his floor are exemplified by this remix, one of many he did in those years. On this occasion riding on the ever reliable Robin S template developed by Sweden’s Finest remix team Swemix/Stonebridge, but adding those tribal rhythms, those rave stabbing chords and particularly introducing that rollercoaster structure that was diminished to one or two drops in recent years. The vocals do not serve not much more purpose than barely holding it all together, but they are still needed.
Brothers’ Vibe Featuring Teddy McClennan – Can U Feel It (Vocal) (Jersey Underground 1996)
The Rodriguez brothers paying their dues to Larry Heard’s eternal classic of a very similar name. It may lack its puzzling blissful emotionality, but it manages to catch up as deep, dark and dubbed out companion and it kicks you mesmerizingly, with your eyes closed, into realms you were probably not yet ready to enter. And you do not even care if you ever get out again.
Urban Soul – What Do I Gotta Do (Eric Kupper Club Mix) (King Street Sounds 1997)
Roland Clark was an early voice of the New Jersey sound back to the very early 90s, his shattered falsetto perfectly accompanied by the dramatic melancholia of his productions. Eric Kupper, man of many a thousand beautiful moments in House Music history, expectedly manages to add further bittersweet intensity to the equation, and a direct route to wailing with the best of them. If you think that House most songs are superficial and one-dimensional, you might just listen to the wrong ones.
The Klub Family – When I Fall In Love (Main Vocal Mix) (Funky People 1998)
There cannot be enough praise for the contributions of Blaze to the canon of songs in House music. Few were as committed to the tradition of Soul within the genre, and few could update said tradition with a sound so distinctively their own. Thus they were an exception when House came into being and they remained an exception for the years to come. Sometime inbetween, they helped to pave the way to the more spiritual and conscious sound celebrated at NYC clubs such as The Shelter and Body & Soul, and then they ruled it. Never ever write them off.
After a productive but rather short period on DJ International in the early 90s, Craig S. Loftis reappeared with this stunning record (the Blaze inspired “You Are All I Need” from one year later is also well worth tracking down). At that time Joe Smooth had vanished from my radar as well, but even if they had only done this one tune, I would be forever grateful. The way this track maintains a floating excellence over such a monolithic funked up groove is just incredible. And then comes the dub version, and you better watch out.
Big Moses – Deep Inside (Vocal) (Big Moe Records 2004)
Moise Laporte is best known for his sublime “Brighter Days” from 1996, but I cannot recommend this record enough either. I really despise a lot of “Soulful Garage” for its bland Pseudo-Jazz drenched noodlings but here all wrong musicianship temptations are kept in check for a well-balanced sophisticated groover straight for the Modern Soul floor. May the girls and boys keep on swinging, and may the faith be kept.
In discussion with Tyler Pope on “Batucada Capoeira” (1998).
So how did you come across „Batucada Capoeira“? What triggered your curiosity?
A friend and band mate of mine! I had bought this compilation when it came out in the late 90’s and I was introduced to it that way. At that stage we were always looking for stuff that was rhythmic, and raw, and had energy. Stuff that wasn’t punk rock that had the same energy and essence of punk, and I think that is in Batucada. There were a some other great reggae and latin compilations on Soul Jazz we liked, and so I’m pretty sure thats why he bought this one. We dubbed the vinyl onto cassette and listened to it a lot on our first tour of the states in ’98. It grew on me the more we listened to it on the long van rides during that tour, and I was eventually totally hooked.
What attracted you to a sound that is so predominantly rhythmic?
I’ve always been drawn to rhythmic music, my dad was a drummer and there was always a drum set up in the house so it started with that. As a youngster I was into Primus, Red Hot Chilli Peppers, and that whole funk rock thing. That music primed me for getting into soul and funk music and all other kinds of tribal rhythmic music. This Batucada compilation was probably the first stuff I really enjoyed that was only drums and thats why it’s special to me and why I chose it for this article.
The sound of a Bateria can be quite a complex wall of sound. What is the difference between that and percissive music from other countries, like Mbalax for example, or other African styles? Or are they even not that different?
There are different drums, instruments and rhythms in Bateria then in Mbalax and other African percussion music, and I guess that is to do with the European influence in Brazil. There are no snare drums in African drum music like Sabar or Mbalax, and the snare drum comes from Europe. Also I’ve never heard such a large group of drummers playing in such an organized way in African drumming. But the frantic energy of the drum music of both countries is certainly similar.
Not every track featured here is as frantic as the drum workouts usually associated with it. What do you prefer?
I like this compilation because it has some of more frantic workouts and mixes them up with the more minimal tracks. It makes for a more enjoyable listen from beginning to end in my opinion. Some of the other Batucada records that I have, that are just the big frantic drum workouts are fun to listen to for a track or so, but maybe not as a whole record
Was the compilation a first glimpse, and you investigated further from there? The tradition of Batucada and Capoeira in Brazil is rich and sure offers a lot to listen to.
I checked it out because it was on Soul Jazz, and at the time it came out other Tropicalia records were being reissued like Tom Ze, and Os Mutantes other real arty weird quality music, so I was wanting to hear more stuff from Brazil. I haven’t really gone too deep, or at least deep by my standards with Batucada actually, this comp never really gets old either so if I want to hear something like this I just listen to this record.
Capoeira is a form of martial arts developed by slaves. I always found music interesting that transfers otherwise potentially critical encounters between rival groups of people into a battle of dance moves, be it breaking, vogueing, or Brazil’s current Funk Balls. Yet the music of „Batucada Capoeira“ is comparably more dynamic than its counterparts. Are such aspects important for percussive music?
Yeah, I hadn’t thought about that but I also like music made for these types of encounters, or battles. I love a lot of the new Vogue/ballroom club music, and recently have been really digging some of the Jersey Club battle tracks. The records for dance battles are more beat driven, there is more focus on the rhythms, and of course they have to be super funky since they have to inspire the dancers. The tracks for battles also cut away at anything that wouldn’t be just for the purpose of the dancing. That focused rhythm track energy I really like. As far as the dynamic nature of this music it is because it’s actually people there playing the drums while the battles are happening, so the drummers are feeding of the energy of the battles and vice versa. Read the rest of this entry »
In discussion with djrum about “Grinning Cat” by Susumu Yokota (2001)
What was your first encounter with „Grinning Cat“?
I just saw the CD in a shop when it first came out. I hadn’t heard of Susumu Yokota at all, but I knew the Leaf label. I was just attracted by the exquisite cover design, and it had a sticker with some rave reviews. I took it to the counter to have a listen and was instantly captivated.
Although Susuma Yokota was a very productive artist, „Grinning Cat“ is acknowledged to be one of the best of his career. What makes it so special to you personally?
I haven’t even listened to all of Susumu Yokota’s releases. There are quite a few. To be honest I find his output to be quite hit and miss. There are a few of his albums that I only like one or two tracks from, and some that I just can’t get into at all. “Grinning Cat” is the only one that has no tracks I want to skip.
Is this best listened to as a whole, or are there highlights?
I tend to listen to it as a whole. Like I said, there’s nothing worth skipping. Everything flows really nicely from track to track. There are definitely highlights. For me one of them is the beginning of the first track so I often go to listen to that and end up listening to the whole thing.
It is interesting how many different musical directions Yokota achieves on one single album. Every single tracks seem to move in different directions as they proceed. How does he manage to make this still sound so coherent?
Yes, this is one the things I find most inspiring about this album. I think the coherence comes from the specific sound palette he works from. Most tracks centre around piano samples from French Romantic composers. Then there are a few from American Minimalist composers, and a few other sources such as jazz. But it’s a really narrow pool actually. I think this consistency allows him to structure his compositions in really exciting and surprising ways without sounding all over the place. The structures make the music very dream-like. Listening to “Fearful Dream” or “So Red” is like being led from scene to scene in a dream. There’s an over arching narrative, but it’s told through different scenes each with a distinct sound. Sometimes when you change scene in a dream it’s almost imperceivable: you can flow from one location to the next without even really noticing the change. Different locations and characters can overlap and merge. Other times the change can be quite abrupt. I’ve never heard anyone capture this as well as Yokota on “Grinning Cat”. You can hear something like it in film music sometimes, but it’s never so psychedelic. I think that the fluidity between different sections is helped by ensuring that the individual elements don’t blend too well. He separates sounds with a very unique use of stereo, and he is very loose with pulse, with different elements often going out of phase with each other. Read the rest of this entry »
In discussion with Sassy J on “Songs In The Key Of Life” by Stevie Wonder (1976).
I found „Songs In The Key Of Life“ in the record collection of my mother in the 70s and secretly transferred it to my own after listening to it. How did the album find you?
I grew up listening, dancing and singing to this album as a little girl. It was one of the rather few soul records amongst my parents Jazz collection. I made my babysitter put it on. I was singing along the lyrics using my skipping rope as a mic. Oh well… That’s why I picked this record for this interview. I think next to all the Jazz at home “Songs In The Key Of Life” built the firm roots of musical tree of life.
Were interested your parents’ Jazz collection as well, or did the album offered an alternative to what you were used to hearing around the house?
The Jazz records that were playing and Jazz tunes my dad played on the piano was just the music that was mainly there. I remember being scared when Duke Ellington’s „Caravan“ would play, or that I loved to fall asleep to Sarah Vaughn’s voice. The funky clothing or jewelry and style of the musicians that stayed with us stuck with me. I also remember artists performing in our living room on house parties. So I was interested in those other aspects of Jazz at home. When I started getting into Hip-Hop later on, finding out about the samples & originals, I got more interested in their Jazz collection again – up to now. I am still pulling out things.
Some childhood memories are very formative and lasting. Was it important that you were introduced to the album at a young age?
I guess so. It reached out to the little girl in that living room. It triggered the attention of her ears and eventually made me choose it for this particular interview.
Why did you think the album had such on impact on you, and what kind of impact was that?
I liked it and I wanted to hear it over and over again, because it made me feel good. The sound, the groove, the melodies, the moods and of course his voice. Next to all the other music at home, this record surely made me fall in love with music. Music is the love of my life. I couldn’t live without it. That’s a hell of an impact!
I remember that even the format of the album was very special to my fledgling music enthusiast self. There was a lot of music spread over two discs, plus a bonus 7“ and a fat booklet. Even at a time when I did not spend too many thoughts on an album’s background that seemed extraordinary. Does the album justify this grand scope, could it not have been any other way?
Yes, the format added an extra attraction to it. I used to love to sit down, open it, take out the booklet and look at it while the record was playing out and out: the cover art, his signature and fingerprint, all the content of it. The older I got, the more I would discover. Singing along to the lyrics, finding out who was featured on there or who was listed in his thank you’s.
What are the highlights of „Songs In The Key Of Life“ for you? And is it mandatory to swallow it as a whole, or can you skip parts that do not hold up to others?
To me the highlight is the journey you go on, listening the whole record. The cover artwork and title reflect it: Mr. Wonder’s Songs In The Key Of Life. Genius. Timeless. So much to hear and discover. So rich.
Most critics heralded „Songs In The Key Of Life“ as a masterpiece ever since, fewer noted that it is patchy in parts. Not only in terms of songwriting, but also in terms of stylistic diversity. The latter I always found very unfair, as the diversity was always one of the aspects I found most fascinating about the album. Would you agree that this ambitious palette is a pro rather than a con?
I groove, feel, get inspired, sing, dance … to music. I don’t approach it that way. To me the record is genius. It is ONE. No drawers or palettes needed.
It is quite astonishing that Stevie Wonder was only 26 years old when he released „Songs In The Key Of Life“. Yet he signed to Motown when he was 11, and before he started work on the album he even considered quitting the music business for good. So he had a long career going on already. Does this inform the music contained on „Songs In The Key Of Life“? Is this a statement bursting out he could not deliver before? How much artistic freedom is needed for an epic like this?
It is a beautiful thing in life to learn, grow and get better and more experienced in all you do.
I think the beauty in this album lies in the journey he made up to then. On “Songs In The Key Of Life” you can hear his experience, all of his brilliance and essence. It feels so complete, strikingly timeless. A flower, fruit, expression of the genius he is. I believe delivering a record, an epic like this, you need to be yourself to the fullest and complete artistic freedom is needed – else it wouldn’t be that complete. Read the rest of this entry »
In discussion with Trevor Jackson on “Illmatic” by Nas (1994).
Can you remember the way you were introduced to “Illmatic”? Was it love at first sight?
Hip-hop was the main music I listened to in the early ‘90s. I devoured every new hip-hop release that came out. I’d been aware of Nas since 1991 when he guest-starred on a Main Source track called “Live at the Barbecue”, which was produced by Large Professor, one of my favorite producers. He was incredible on that. It was a great time for hip-hop. So many incredible hip-hop albums came out between ’91 and ’94. In 1992, Nas put out a single on Ruffhouse called “Halftime”, which was a track from the soundtrack of Zebrahead. That single totally blew me away. It still is one of my favorite hip-hop singles of all time. By that time, people in the hip-hop world were really aware of Nas, so when the album dropped in 1994, it wasn’t love at first sight, to be honest. It was a surprise.
You were expecting something big?
Yeah. All the real hip-hop heads were, not only because he was an incredible MC, but also because of the producers on the album, which were the cream of the crop at the time.
How were all the luminaries who played a part in the process apparent on the album? How would you characterize their input?
The thing about hip-hop at that time—which was very different than it is now—everyone strove to have their own sound. Nobody wanted to sound like anybody else. Probably more than any other music, people who were into hip-hop bought a lot of records because of the producer rather than the artist or the MC. It was quite unique.
On Illmatic, Nas worked with DJ Premier, Pete Rock, Large Professor and Q-Tip. Even though they were all from New York, they all had their own distinctive sound. Premier usually only took one loop, but he could do something incredible and really simple with one or two bars. Pete Rock was more complex and slightly more soulful. Large Professor had really amazing basslines, and Q-Tip was still deep, dark and street, but slightly more abstract. It was almost like The Avengers: Hulk, Thor, Captain America and Iron Man all coming together on one team. I don’t want to take anything away from Nas, who’s an amazing MC in his own right, but he always needed a great beat behind him. And they were the best at the time.
It’s kind of astonishing that there were so many different people involved, yet the album is pretty coherent.
The thing is, all these guys are from New York, and New York rap was all sample-based. It was pretty raw, and so even though these guys all had their own distinctive sound, they all hung out together; they were all friends.
That’s true. As you said, you go a long way back with hip-hop, and you probably heard a lot of classic albums. What makes “Illmatic” so special?
All I know is that I never get tired of it. A week doesn’t go by when I don’t listen to the whole album. It’s a short, too—it’s only got ten tracks on it, which was not typical, as a lot of albums used to hold 20 or 30 tracks. In contrast, Illmatic is really tight and focused. I love every track apart from one. I just think there’s something about Nas’ hunger to succeed on that record—I felt like you can hear that he came off the street into a vocal booth and just rhymed. It really has that immediacy and that hunger; you can hear it in his lyrics and you can hear it in his voice, and for me, it’s 1000 percent believable. I understand every word of it he says. Maybe it sounds silly, but it feels like he’s talking to me directly. His voice is just so direct. There’s something about that album. It was a point in time. So many different things combined to make it a special record.
It was his debut album, and it’s still hailed as one of the most important hip-hop albums of all time. That’s obviously quite a burden as well, but it’s really fascinating that he achieved this as his first album.
When it first came out, it wasn’t a success, though. It had critical success, but it didn’t sell. It took a bit of time to catch on. Looking at it now, for me, it’s always been a thing about Jay-Z or Nas. If you ask me, Nas would wipe the floor with Jay-Z in terms of rap skills. But Jay-Z is the superstar today, not Nas. Nas is still the rapper’s rapper. Also, sadly, he probably hasn’t made a record quite as good as Illmatic—not a whole album, anyway. So, if you want to talk about the greatest record of all time, many people today won’t say Illmatic. People will say it’s Dr. Dre’s The Chronic, or they’ll say Kanye’s it’s 808s & Heartbreak. For me, Illmatic is a benchmark, but I’m the older generation. I don’t know if the new generation really understands. What they perceive as being “good rap music” now is totally different, as is rap music itself.
Just in terms of the production, hip-hop—especially from the East Coast—was much more sample-based. I think that kind of vanished over the years.
The other thing is, in a weird way, that album marked a beginning, too. Before, you’d have one producer producing the whole thing. From what I remember, Illmatic was the first time so many esteemed producers all produced on the same album. That kind of changed things, because after that, people started getting loads of different producers to do an album. It’s not like they said, “Let’s get Premier or Pete Rock because they’ll sell millions of records.” They got those people because they really worked with Nas and they sounded right. But the hip-hop environment changed after that; people lost their unique sound. Everyone started to sound the same. Read the rest of this entry »
In discussion with Shanti Celeste about “Set It Out” by Omar-S (2003).
So what was the first time you heard this track?
I wish I could say it was in a club where I had a life changing experience bla bla bla, but it was actually a much more ordinary scenario. I was buying some birthday records on Juno just after it was repressed in 2009. I didn’t know much about Omar-S at that point, had heard the name once or twice, but that was about it. So the answer to that question is – the first time I heard this song was on the mighty Juno player.
What drew you to it? The simplicity of the groove? The addictive synth line? How it erupts into a heartfelt song? Or something else? Or all of it?
All of it! The vocal and the beautiful rolling pad in particular though, then the nice toms and the clap, too! I just think it’s a beautiful track, it can make you feel so happy and grateful. I love singing so I just start belting out along with it as soon as I hear it or even when I play it in a club. It is just so simple but so powerful.
For me this is foremost a prime example of a very fine Vocal House record. Lyrics, singing and sound work perfectly with each other. It seems nothing is missing, and there is nothing to improve. But is it really as simple as it sounds?
Yes and no, there isn’t that many elements which I guess is what makes it simple, but it is cleverly constructed. I always think that spreading a synth line across four bars creates more interest because it gives room for all the other elements to play without sounding too loopy and repetitive, even if it is that way. Also let’s not forget what a great vocal can do to a track, in some cases it can completely transform it.
I think his track „Who Wrote The Rules of Love“ with Colonel Abrams also comes close to what Omar-S achieved with „Set It Out“. Are you a fan of his in general? Are there other tracks you like nearly as much?
I agree, that’s also really good and again a perfect example of a good Vocal House track, if I’m putting it down to just a feeling though, I prefer „Set It Out“ but they are so close! These are probably my two favourites. I do like a lot of his others as well, he has done soooo much! One of my other favourites is him and Kai Alcé’s „Not Phazed“.
I like that Omar-S is absolutely not very fussy about either producing or marketing what he produces. He is not very concerned about other opinions on what he does either. Is this the way out of modern PR obligations, just delivering the tunes?
I think part of it is a way of delivering tunes! Imagine if he did the whole PR thing every time he released a record, especially at the start when he was releasing lots, it would be a PR overload! And now people trust him and will probably buy his records anyway.
There is whole lot of discourse about Detroit in club culture. But does the origin of Omar-S really matter with „Set It Out“?
To be honest, I’m not sure. To me it just sounds like Omar-S!
UK also has a healthy tradition with Garage House, even if it evolved into something different. But to my ears the production of this track is not too dissimilar to UK club styles, or am I wrong?
I actually think there are other more garage-y tracks from Omar-S that sound more similar to UK styles. „Set It Out“ is quite straight and I always think of UK Garage House as a lot more swong. But I guess that“s the beauty of music, eh? Everyone hears it in they’re own way.
What is important if you infuse a dance track with vocals?
Tricky, I will always notice a good vocal track if I like the vocal and the way that it’s been placed on the track. It’s very important that it’s effortless and soulful but not trying to be too gimmicky and „classic house vocal’. Also sometimes it helps if they use the whole accapella, like in „Set It Out“, or if it’s a vocalist that they arrange with more of a song structure. I like the way it sounds when it’s chopped as well but it has to be done right. Basically, it has to to work great and not just for the sake of it.
I must admit that I much prefer this kind of vocals in a dance track to the majority of tracks of recent years that include a singing style usually more associated with indie records. But I would not go as far as to maintain you cannot create a good club song without a Soul aspect. But what does a good club song actually require?
For me it requires a physical and an emotional aspect. So a really good groove that you just can’t help but dance to and a melodic aspect of some kind. I’m not saying it has to be super melodic with noodly bits everywhere, although that’s the route I tend to take because I just can’t help myself. But something to go along with the groove that’s making you dance your ass off.
Is there a way that „Set It Out“ is reflected in your own productions?
Maybe yes, it’s probably influenced me in more ways than I know considering that I have listened to it so many times over the years!
The defunct Face magazine used to have these little messages at the bottom of their last page. I always have this one particular issue in the back of my mind where it read „Vocals matter“. But do they still?
I loved a lot of David Bowie songs throughout my life. His landmark albums from the early 70s were still a staple of the radio shows I recorded to cassettes from the mid 70s on. Glam anthems, way ahead to my ears then what became of it in the charts around that time. Glam outfits that were equally way ahead. David Bowie was already somewhere else, of course, anticipating the Disco phenomenon I would soon so love, with Philly’s finest. Then following that up with the Berlin trilogy that would inspire legions to create something great, and look great while doing it, too. Then, when I ran around in 60s clothes in my early 80s coastal smalltown youth, I discovered that he already had been there in the best way imaginable, and his early Pye singles were exactly the attitude and sound I was looking for. He was the definite face. He made no mistakes. He even descended to the kids he created with „Ashes To Ashes“, and he blessed them, as they worshipped him. He was a terrific actor on screen as well, making good use of his ever magnetic charisma and sexually confusing identities there, too. Whatever he did, you watched him very closely, else you could have missed out on crucial developments.
When „Let’s Dance“ was announced as being produced by Nile Rodgers, another inerrable hero of mine, I had the highest expectations, but then could not help feeling let down. There were moments, but not enough of them. And in the period of the mid 80s shortly after, pop’s most successful stars could earn a fortune without even the slightest vision (let alone sound), and David Bowie simply became one of them. As soon as he was dancing in the street with Mick I was just embarrassed. Even his outfits were embarrassing. I was really surprised that this could happen. Enter the years of hit and miss. For every glimpse of his former cool self resurfacing, „Absolute Beginners“ or „Hallo Spaceboy“ for example, he took decisions that were unforgiveably below his par, think Tin Machine, among others. Given, you cannot be visionary forever, however visionary you once were. And David Bowie was more constantly visionary than anybody else, for a long time. But the visions at one point were had by others. Not surprisingly he displayed a clever instinct for picking the right ones to utilize for his purposes, but still they were attached. I did not mind, he was performing the elder statesmanship with grace, and as so many artists were still working ideas he already had before, there was nothing left to prove, only if he wanted to. So screw the stock bonds. I sincerely felt happy for him and his family. He deserved it. Then he kind of disappeared.
When he reappeared in 2013, it felt like out of the blue. „Where Are We Now?“ was the first song of his in years I listened to repeatedly. It was beautiful and it felt good to have him back. I was slightly surprised by its sadness, but I thought it was quite a statement to base its sentiment about the most lauded creative period of your career. It challenges comparisons, and I was sure he was still creatively ambitious enough to try and deal with them, no matter what he achieved before. „The Next Day“ was a good album, too. He did not try to reinvent himself, he looked back on what he invented. I visited the Bowie exhibition that was doing the same in Berlin, just in time before it closed, and I enjoyed it very much. It all came back, rather predictably. His stage outfits on display proved he was a small man, but he surely did not have a small mind.
I did not expect that he would follow that retrospective phase so soon, if at all. And I absolutely did not expect that he would follow it up with an album like „Blackstar“. As before, David Bowie chose to remain silent, relying on producer Tony Visconti to reveal the news of its release. I read his trusted cohort doing that in an interview while travelling. He spoke of references like Kendrick Lamar, Death Grips and Boards Of Canada, and that rock and roll was to be avoided. David Bowie recruited a potent jazz quartet from a New York bar for the recordings. It was all rather promising. When I got asked to write these lines I initially wished I could have listened to the entire album when he was still alive, as I was already overwhelmed to the point of numbness by the reactions to his sudden demise. But when I then listened to it, it became obvious very quickly that he was fully aware that he would have passed away once the public would be fully exposed to it. And that it is pivotal to picture the dying artist for the whole experience. The songs are brilliant. Complex and dense, or just stunning, indeed avoiding rock and roll stereotypes, even if the jazz only adds to the picture instead of dominating it. The mood is intense, but it is not entirely dark. Thinking of the motivation behind this album, David Bowie sounds astonishingly swinging, his beloved voice delivering clever lyrics ranging between the horror of his own decay and the feeling of arriving there content, at ease with himself, with truths simultaneously personal and universal. The video to „Lazarus“ is frightening to watch, but comically absurd as well. The last photographs of him taken show him in a sharp suit, lauging. The way he orchestrated his own requiem is incredible, exactly as he wanted to, and as only he could. Being David Bowie, setting lasting examples yet again. Superior, even in death.
In discussion with truly-madly on “Hats” by The Blue Nile (1989).
How did you come across this album for the first time?
In my early teens I was quite nerdily into hi-fi – it didn’t stop there to be honest – so there would always be a copy of „What Hi-Fi“ knocking about, covered in drooled saliva at the valve amp page. The magazine had a small music review section – I don’t recall usually paying much attention to this but for some reason I read the entry for „Hats“. I don’t remember what it said but something in it must have appealed to my inner angst – nor did that stop there either – at that time. Surely the word ‘melancholy’ was used. So I bought it blindly (the cassette). At that time I was listening to bits of everything, early House, Synth Pop, Indie, and I was buying vinyl but had this odd mental divide that meant I would buy albums on cassette and singles on 12”. And actually I only finally bought „Hats“ on vinyl fairly recently – random find at Rough Trade Portobello in London.
Why did you choose „Hats“ for this interview? What are its special credentials for you?
It would probably be too difficult to choose a House or Techno album, which might be the natural thing to do, and this was the first that came to mind otherwise. I still think it’s quite obscure in a way, despite being part of the mainstream, and seemingly more popular than I realised.
My first encounter with The Blue Nile was probably hearing „Tinseltown In The Rain“ on the radio, from their first album „A Walk Across The Rooftops“, released in 1983. Do you like that as well?
I like all their stuff but don’t remember anything pre-“Hats“. I now know Tinseltown was some kind of hit but don’t directly recall it from the radio, etc. But occasionally I’ll hear it, in a cab or something, and think there is more to it than simply having listened to it from the album, that maybe I did hear it around the time it came out. That first album, and „Hats“, they are the best ones for me.
For me it is a topic worthy of thorough academic research how the electronic music of the Synthpop era and beyond is so often pared with very charismatic lead voices. Is this only for contrast, or is there more to it?
The Slits – In The Beginning There Was Rhythm (1980)
At the age of 15, Neneh Cherry was introduced to seminal feminist Post Punk group The Slits by her stepfather Don Cherry, and joined them for a brief period, providing backing vocals on several tracks, including this one. The Slits were integral to the early days of UK’s Punk scene, but they quickly became musically adventurous beyond that and incredibly funky as well, further aided by producer Dennis Bovell’s dub expertise. Edginess was rarely as charming, but The Slits had loads of attitude to boot. One can assume that Neneh Cherry took her clues from the experience.
Rip, Rig & Panic – Those Eskimo Women Speak Frankly (1981)
The next band Cherry joined was a Bristol collective that included two members of the legendary Pop Group. Their music was a feverish mix of Punk Funk, avantgarde elements and Jazz. As with The Slits, Don Cherry was a collaborator, but his stepdaughter was more to the core, switching to lead vocals and displaying the mixture of charismatic Soul and Rap stylings that would make her famous later on. But before that, Neneh Cherry briefly retired to become a young mother, and the band fell apart. In 1983 the band reformed with Neneh Cherry under the name Float Up CP, and released one album, then fell apart again. But if you find a band in those years with a constant line-up, it might have been dull anyway. Rip Rig & Panic sure were not.
Raw Sex, Pure Energy – Give Sheep A Chance (1982)
After collaborating with On-U Sound’s mighty New Age Steppers, Cherry teamed up with its bass guitarist George Oban and the drummer of 70s Fusion Jazz band Karma, Joe Blocker. They covered Edwin Starr’s Motown standard „Stop The War Now“ in reaction to the Falklands War, and „Give Sheep A Chance“ is its wonderful icy computerized dub version on the flip, sheep noises included. In the years leading up to the next entry, Neneh Cherry also became a pirate radio DJ, danced in a Big Audio Dynamite video, and duetted marvellously on The The’s „Slow Train To Dawn“.
Neneh Cherry – Buffalo Stance (1988)
Neneh Cherry, the pop star. Seven months pregnant with her second child but rampant with energy, she performed this ever infectious song on Top Of The Pops and stormed the top ten. „Buffalo Stance“ was referencing Malcolm McLaren’s Gals, stylist Ray Petri’s fashionable collective, and was in fact a cover version of a Stock, Aitken & Waterman produced single by her future husband Cameron McVey from two years earlier, where she already rapped about „Looking Good Diving With The Wild Bunch“ on the B-side. And the famed Bristol sound system was indeed involved with the accompanying „Raw Like Sushi“ solo debut album, as were McVey and Tim Simenon of Bomb The Bass fame at the controls. In 1988 Hip Hop and House still looked at each other and the UK club scene was vibrant, as documented by magazines like I-D, The Face and Blitz. Neneh Cherry was styled by Judy Blame and photographed by Jena-Baptiste Mondino rather iconically, but underlying were lyrics that dissed gigolos and moneymen and celebrated female self-esteem. So don’t you get fresh with her!
Neneh Cherry – Manchild (1988)
Neneh Cherry telling the boys some more news (albeit with a bit more sympathy), in a fantastic downtempo song co-written by Cameron McVey and Robert Del Naja AKA 3D of The Wild Bunch, and soon-to-be Massive Attack (fellow member of both Mushroom provided a booming remix). In the rather weird video she proudly sports her now born second child Tyson and a further refined fly girl outfit with a pair of cycle shorts that were de rigeur in 1989. Ok, men mostly wore the matching cycle tops. The „cause I believe in miracles, words in heavy doses“ ending still rules supreme.
Neneh Cherry – I’ve Got You Under My Skin (1990)
This a contribution to „Red, Hot & Blue“, an AIDS charity compilation on which several artists covered Cole Porter songs. AIDS was still spreading fast, and given the topic the title is very well picked, with Neneh Cherry rapping an introduction that makes it very clear that it is not only love creeping through the body, but also very lethal disease. The heavy and brooding downbeat groove already foreshadows Massive Attack’s „Blue Lines“ album, to which she would also contribute. The video by Mondino is appropriately dark, without any misplaced pretensions. „Share the love, don’t share the needle“, it ends.
Neneh Cherry – Buddy X (1992)
Lifted from her second album „Homebrew“, Cherry again adresses men that like to play around, wrapping her criticism of male hypocrisy and infidelity with fetching Hip Hop pressure. The song still features prominently in club playlists due to its Class A Masters At Works remixes. At the height of their powers they apply their raw swing to a groove that most successfully merges Hip Hop and House sophistication, without ever distracting from the message. Deadly dubs, too.
Youssou N’Dour & Neneh Cherry – 7 Seconds (1994)
Neneh Cherry collaborates with the famous Senegalese singer for a moving celebration of humanity without prejudice. By then the combination of a downbeat and dramatic strings had almost become stereotypical, but the trilingual „7 Seconds“ still proves why it became so efficient in the first place. First, you need a good song. Second, you need good performers. Third, you will see that the tried and tested arrangement will even up the ante. The stylish monochromatic video was directed by Stéphane Sednaoui, and it works.
Neneh Cherry & The Thing – Dream Baby Dream (2012)
Neneh Cherry works with a Scandinavian Jazz trio that named itself after her stepfather. She was a longtime Scandinavian resident and Jazz has a healthy tradition there, it should not have come as a surprise. But after a long hiatus from recording music, it was. The resulting album consisted mainly of well chosen cover versions that seem to stand for Cherry’s whole life in music. They are interpreted quite freely, and Cherry still delivers. Take her version of Suicide’s No Wave classic „Dream Baby Dream“ for example. In my ears it rather sounds like her very early days than former pop star croons the standards for Christmas.
Neneh Cherry – Everything (2014)
The overdue comeback as solo performer, with an album of material that mourns the death of her mother in 2009. Four Tet is at the helm, and his sparse production focusses on rhythmic textures and subtle electronic arrangements, performed by Rocketnumbernine. The album decidedly neglects pop obligations and Neneh Cherry is evidently very motivated, and even if her songs here are very personal, they sure are engaging as well. The remixers on duty for „Everything“, Ricardo Villalobos and Max Loderbauer, must have agreed, as they already let the song seep into their trademark Micro House jam setup after only two and a half minutes.
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