y'all know who

Yes. The legendary Roots crew. They dropped their 9th studio disc this week, How I Got Over. I don't know what's gotten into me lately, but I have been breathing hip-hop. All the old school talk of the last few weeks has stuck with me. I've even gone so far as to investigate some of the newer cats in an effort to quench my thirst. No luck. T.I. can't seem to make a record that actually captures his greatness. Lupe Fiasco is interesting, but not mind blowing. Talib Kweli is dependable, although I almost gave up on him when Eardrum was released. When you start listing guest MCs AND the producers of each track on the outside of your packaging, you're pretty darn close to selling out. Kweli regained my trust with this years Reflection Eternal album, Revolutions Per Minute. And now to really hit that hip-hop sweet spot I've got How I Got Over.

I will admit, when I first heard the Roots were going to be the house band for Jimmy Fallon's late night show I instantly felt it was the end of the band. I didn't understand what ?uestlove and company were thinking. Then Hub quit the band and I really started to lose hope. I don't like it when founding members leave. It changes things. But maybe I just have an issue with change. This is a band that was known for their tireless touring, billed as the best show in the business (I can testify, it's extremely energetic and entertaining) and now they are stuck in New York five days a week for six months out of the year. However, around this time last year I caught a clip of the Roots performing their new song "How I Got Over" on Fallon's show and it suddenly made sense to me. Free air time. In those five minutes they played to their largest audience ever, through TV's across the country. They get to do this five nights a week. That's the kind of exposure most bands drool over. I still wasn't sure about Black Thought dressing up like a cast member of Star Trek and rapping about intergalactic pimping, but I decided maybe they knew something I didn't.

One listen to How I Got Over and I'm completely over the network television thing. It is an obvious return to greatness from one of my most beloved rap groups of all time (it helps that they're from Illadelph, but I can remember listening to '95s Do You Want More?!!??! on cassette after basketball practice in the D.C. suburbs). The album is easily their most cohesive, flowing from one track to the next effortlessly. The live drum sound that made them famous is back and as present as ever after being over taken by production grease and what seemed like a desire for more mainstream appeal on Rising Down and Game Theory. It's almost as if being forced to stay in one place (Fallon's show) has caused the band to regain a sense of who they are and allowed them to create a new sound that is both organic and modern. Perhaps this shouldn't be surprising. I have learned myself that new things are born from stillness. All the touring was necessary for financial purposes I'm sure, but I wonder what they would say about how it effected their ability to create new music.

How I Got Over finds Black Thought taking a more reserved role, sharing the mic with other home grown talent, like old time friend Dice Raw, and more recent addition Peedi Peedi (who has sounded like a completely different MC since joining the fold on Game Theory). Then there are totally new faces like STS, Blu (whose 2007 debut Below the Heavens is also quite good) and Indie darlings Joanna Newsome, Monsters of Folk and the Dirty Projectors. Those last few names certainly made me raise my eyebrows. How does that work? Rather well, actually. Their additions are subtle, with the exception of "Dear God 2.0" which is essentially a remix of the Monsters of Folk original but may also be the best track on this album. All of this makes it seem as if Black Thought has finally let go of his Jay-Z-status ambitions and is fully dedicated to the Roots vision in a way that we haven't heard since their classic Things Fall Apart. Maybe the regular spot light of late night television has satisfied Thought's desire for a broader audience, but whatever the reason he's figured out that less is often more. I found myself waiting for his turn on the mic while enjoying the change of pace when he passes it to one of his comrades.

This album is the whole package. The live sound blended with simple production techniques, the guest shots from familiar names and local unknowns and the refined work of a veteran crew who has really found their stride. My only complaint is the short running time, clocking in at just over 42 minutes it can really breeze by but perhaps that's most appropriate. It's lean, efficient and rediscovered.

new old school

When I was 11 years old I purchased my very first rap cassette, The Low End Theory by A Tribe Called Quest. That was in 1992. I have no idea where I got the money. It must have been from my allowance. I'm not sure how I managed to get to the store without an adult, but I can remember standing in front of the dusty wall of new and used tapes at the shop near my grandmother's house. My buddy Matt was with me. My guess is we had ridden our bikes or that my grandmother had taken us along on a run to the craft store and we decided to wait for her next door, eyes glued to the rap section. I didn't know what I was doing, of course. I understood about half of the lyrics. The other half just sounded cool.

I grew up on rap and hip-hop. I don't know why or how that happened. My folks listened to their share of Motown and Sam Cooke so, perhaps my exposure to that early soul music primed my ears for the soul-sampling sounds of 90's hip-hop. My parents certainly didn't approve. They didn't ban it either though, which I am grateful for. Perhaps that's just because they didn't listen to most of it. If they had my guess is they would have been completely repulsed. When I listen to Snoop Dogg's Doggystyle today I'm a bit repulsed myself. That album is a classic though and the music holds quite a bit of nostalgia for me. I spent countless hours with my friends listening to Wu-Tang, Dr. Dre, Biggie, 2Pac, Bone Thugs-N-Harmony, Mobb Deep, early Nas and Jay-Z and pretty much every other classic mainstream album from the mid-90's. I soaked it up like a sponge and I came to understand that in order to really appreciate most rap music you must have a working knowledge of it's history.

Unlike any other genre, except perhaps jazz, rap music regularly dips into it's past with name drops, beat samples and lyrical quotes. This is one of my absolute favorite things about rap. You can take one Isley Brothers sample and trace it's history through the past 20 years of hip-hop (I don't know the stats, but I'd wager that the Isley Brothers are the most sampled group in the history of music). I don't think it's an overstatement to say that I have an unusual knowledge of the history of rap music. That's not me bragging, it's just a fact. When you've been listening as long as I have you're bound to learn something. But another thing I love about rap is that there is always more to learn.

I listened to a lot of rap radio growing up. We didn't have the internet back then. It was the only way to hear new music. As a result, I missed out on a lot of great stuff happening in the underground. There was one weekly radio show dedicated to "underground" and unsigned hype but they really focused more on exclusives from established acts and when they did play something unknown they rarely took the time to tell you much about it. So, I've had to play a bit of catch up with a lot of the underground classics. Just last year I got into Breaking Atoms (1991) by Main Source. I had known about the posse cut "Live at the Barbeque" for a while but to be honest that's mostly because it features a young Nas in his very first recorded performance. I really wish I had heard this album 20 years ago. I may not have been ready for it though. I was too into gangsta rap and all it's sensationalism. Now that I'm older and a bit wiser I'm ready for something a little less profane and a little more thought provoking. Breaking Atoms is just that and it absolutely deserves to be recognized as one of the greatest rap albums of all time. I don't think many would argue with that. It's influence on production and sampling is widely known. I'd always heard the Large Professor's name dropped in other songs, never really familiar with who he was. Now I understand. He's one of rap's greatest producers. Not a bad lyricist either.

Last year I also took the time to check out Slick Rick's second, lesser known release The Ruler's Back (1991). I also decided it was time to dip into Return of the Boom Bap (1993) by KRS-One. Those are two great albums (ignore what the critics might say about The Ruler's Back). Most recently I embarked on a journey through the underground hall of fame that lead to a treasure trove of classic records I'd been missing. Most of the names were familiar to me. I'd heard of Souls of Mischief, Hieroglyphics, Organized Konfusion, Big L, The D.O.C., Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Kool G Rap, UGK, EPMD and, of course, Common. I never took the time to give most of their work a listen, despite how much the mainstream referred to them. Here's what I think you need to listen to straight away.


Common - Resurrection (1994)

Allow me to explain why I included Common and EPMD in the list above. I've been listening to Common for quite some time, but I got into him in 2000 with his major label release Like Water for Chocolate after reading that The Roots (whom I have followed from the very beginning) were big contributors to the production. This past weekend I acquired Common's second album, Resurrection. It is easily the best lyrical work I've heard from him and that's saying a lot because the man is gifted. I also particularly like how he takes it the rap industry, true to form.
*History lesson - This was Common's second full length produced largely by No I.D., who just so happened to be one of Kanye West's first mentors in the game. Perhaps now you'll better understand the relationship between Kanye and Common, who have worked closely together on projects for Kanye's GOOD Music, including Common's Grammy nominated gem "Be". Also, "Resurrection" was one of the few releases done under the name Common Sense, before a legal issue forced him to drop the Sense and just be Common.


EPMD - Strictly Business (1988)

As for EPMD I'll say this...of all the albums I have slept on, this is the one I am most ashamed of. This debut is pure gold. While Breaking Atoms is often credited as influencing the future production techniques of rap, I would argue that no other album has made a greater contribution to the art of sampling. Let me just run down some of the artist's work you may recognize here: Eric Clapton, Aretha Franklin, Otis Redding, Kool & the Gang, Beastie Boys, Pink Floyd, Steve Miller Band, ZZ Top, Rick James and EPMD (yes, they even sampled themselves). P. Diddy pretty much owes his entire career to Erick Sermon ("E") and Parrish Smith ("P" - "Making Dollars") because without them the kind of sampling that made Puff Daddy and the Family a success would not have existed. I've always known that Erick Sermon had an ear for tight production, mostly through his work with Redman, Keith Murray and the Def Squad. I really had no idea this duo was so great. I mean I knew they were good, but seriously, this is a great album.
*Trivia note - Each of EPMD's seven studio albums has the word "Business" in the title. Each album also includes a track with the name "Jane" in it's title.


Souls of Mischief - 93 'til Infinity (1993 - surprise!)

Now, here is where we dig deeper into the underground. While just about every other West Coast crew was jumping on the gangsta rap bandwagon, these four Oakland natives seemed to make a conscious choice to be un-gangsta. Not a great way to sell records, which is a shame because this is undoubtedly one of the best from the '90s. As a kid, I consistently ignored advertisements for this album, thinking they must not be any good because I hadn't heard them on the radio. I could not have been more wrong. To my ear, this sounds more like a lot of the East Coast releases from the decade. There's not much slow funk here. It bounces with jazz instead, reminiscent of early Tribe Called Quest. That fits the rhyme styles of A-Plus, Opio, Phesto D and Tajai though. They are quite adept at the fast-rap.*History Lesson - Souls of Mischief made up a large part of the also excellent collective Hieroglyphics, whose other members included Del tha Funkee Homosapien, Casual, Pep Love and Jaybiz.
**Bonus Trivia - Del tha Funkee Homosapien happens to be Ice Cube's cousin and is the MC you hear on Gorillaz self-titled debut. That's right, he's the voice of "Clint Eastwood". Classic!


Organized Konfusion - Organized Konfusion (1991)

You may remember a wicked sounding song sampling the theme from the original Godzilla that made it's way to radio in 1999 called "Simon Says". The chorus pretty much went like this..."Get the f**k up. Simon Says get the f**k up!". Well, that was Pharoahe Monch. What I didn't know then was that Monch was not new to the rap scene. He made his debut back in '91 as one half of the duo Organized Konfusion (the other half being Prince Po). These guys are rapper's rappers. They're the kind that like to have fun with words, when they're not attempting to school you on politics. And it all sounds so easy. Many like to draw comparisons to Breaking Atoms but to my ear Organized Konfusion is a lighter. The production is somewhat simpler and one of the singles was a track called "Who Stole My Last Piece of Chicken". I rest my case.
*Trivia Note/History Lesson - The only guest appearance on "Organized Konfusion," (which was self produced) was O.C. on the track "Fudge Pudge". O.C. went on to become a part of the Diggin' In The Crates (D.I.T.C.) crew, which featured heavy hitters Big L, Buckwild, Showbiz & A.G., Diamond D and Fat Joe. O.C. also released an underground classic himself with "Word...Life" in 1994.

while watching game three

I like old things from familiar places. Also, new things from old places. You will never hear me say that winning the NBA championship was the defining moment of my life or that holding the Larry O'Brien trophy felt like holding my newborn son. Maybe that's because I'm not seven feet tall with a custom built bed the size of a swimming pool.

I like where I'm from, but I like where I am more. Where I'm going is yet to be seen, but something tells me it will be likable. I see certain things through unbiased eyes. I see more through the influence of my past, regardless of how much the subject of my memories may have changed. Someday I hope to be better at seeing the things the way Thomas Merton did, from a quiet awareness of all life around me.

For the most part, I have a sharp memory. I notice things. I remember things. You might think I'm not listening or paying attention, but I can hear you. I realize I may be giving away a secret that often works in my favor, but I'm ready to let it go. Be careful what you say in my presence. I'm typing, I'm reading, I seem to be engaged in something else. I'm listening. I've been told that men can't multitask. I'm sorry, that's just not true.

I don't purchase beer based on cold indicators, bottle vortexes, wide mouth cans or cooler cases. Those are convenient, but I prefer to taste things as opposed to draining the bottle as quickly as possible. Bud Light, Coors Light is there a way you can direct your advertising elsewhere saving you money and me the irritation? When will I get to select my own commercials? I want to hear more about alternative energy sources and the next Outkast record.

My Morning Jacket has recorded five studio albums. For a long time I just pretended the first two didn't exist. That was a mistake. Learn from it. At Dawn was released in 2001. I was 20 years old. Ken Griffey Jr. was in his second season with the Cincinnati Reds. He hit .286 with 22 home runs and 65 RBI in 111 games.

When I was a kid and listening to underground hip hop shows in the D.C. metro area I always wondered where all the local talent was. There seemed to be little potential. The Questionmark Asylum. DJ Kool. Tracey Lee. None of them were known very far outside the red line (or the orange, or the blue or the green). Wale (pronounced "Wall A" and probably should get an accent mark but it's actually a shortened version of his first name "Olubowale," which does not contain an accent mark) is a rapper from D.C. He has one full length studio album in his discography. It's called Attention Deficit and it was released in 2009. I was 28. Junior Griffey was in his second tour with the Seattle Mariners. He hit .214 with 19 home runs and 57 RBI in 117 games (you could tell the end was near).

The Radio Dept. are an indie band from Lund, Sweden. I've been to Lund. It's a lovely town. They've released three full length albums since 2003. Not exactly efficient. Clinging to a Scheme was released on April 21 of this year. I was 29. Still am. Little did we know, The Kid was almost a month into what would be his final season. His numbers were pedestrian and it feels a little disrespectful to even mention them here.

Griffey is a future hall-of-famer. He retired last week. He was the last great player from my childhood. Somehow, as pure coincidence and as a result of unrelated events, I finally feel like an adult.
These are three albums I'm listening to.




It's a quiet album, a long way from Z so, be prepared. I like the banjo strummed "If It Smashes Down".




Wale likes to pay tribute to the local legends of Go-Go (If you're from D.C. then you know. If not, look it up). You're going to get a healthy helping of the conga drums. One of my favorites so far is "Mirrors" featuring UGK's Bun B, who sounds particular dapper. That's unusual.




It's brand spanking new to me. I'm liking "This Time Around" and "A Token of Gratitude".