L.A. Times: So what's the current status of the new record?
Von Pea: We’re like 10 songs in. Right now, they’re in the demo phase. We have 10 to 15 more to do before we're a go yet. It doesn't have a running theme or a concept yet. However, based on our experiences performing, we know that we're going to have to get in front of people and play these songs without apologizing for not having a guest, or trying to explain what the songs are about.
Donwill: We wanted to make an album based on emotion and feeling, as opposed to one overarching concept.
L.A. Times: You guys were part of the first wave of groups forming over shared interests and musical tastes over the Internet. There's been a variety of stories I've read about how you guys originally decided to become Tanya Morgan. How exactly did it come about?
Von Pea: It was us, Foreign Exchange, Little Brother, and a couple other guys, and we were all on Okayplayer -- this was before the blogs and before MySpace. So we decided to put music on Okayplayer to share with the other artists, in an effort to get a footprint in the game. It was through necessity if we wanted to work together. None of us had the money to go to North Carolina or Cincinnati, and certainly not the Netherlands.
Don: It was a bunch of people interested in the same kind of music. A person’s kind of interest and musical taste is important, and it was a place where we could discuss snare drums and studio gear. We were all just trying to find cost-effective ways to record our own material, and that’s what led to me and Von talking in the first place. We’d sit around and discover production tools and discover that camaraderie.
Bangladesh has his sights set on “changing the game.” And he plans on doing this with a few unexpected muses.
Recently named one of six top urban producers at this year's BMI Urban Music Awards, the Atlanta-based beatmaker, whose birth name is Shondrae Crawford, has been slowly rising to prominence over the last decade by being the sonic mastermind behind songs from such artists as Ludacris, Ciara, Kelis, Missy Elliott, Usher, R. Kelly and Beyoncé -– he was responsible for the latter's most recent singles, “Diva” and “Video Phone.”
Crawford recently produced songs for Ne-Yo, Nelly and the Game -- and even a handful of beats for the new "Def Jam Rapstar" video game -– but it’s the upcoming work for a few divas that has him most excited: He is prepping to tackle projects from Beyoncé, Ke$ha and Brandy.
The producer was brought on board to work on Ke$ha’s follow-up album to “Animal” after meeting songwriter-producer Dr. Luke through a mutual friend. He said Luke, who’s penned hits for Kelly Clarkson, Pink, Britney Spears and his protégé Ke$ha, doesn’t want him to compromise his urban flair for the pop world.
L.A. Times: Being a white rapper is always going to engender Eminem comparisons even if you are half Native American. Have those grown tedious yet or have you just tried to take them in stride?
Yelawolf: I can't be mad at the comparisons because I'm still just getting my feet wet. I've got years to go before I establish a full concrete Yelawolf sound. Right now, I'm focused on saying what I have to say. I have to do Yelawolf right now and not worry about anything else. That said, I think it's a fair comparison. There haven't been many white artists in hip-hop, and there's only a handful that the average person knows about, so it is what it is.
L.A. Times: Your mixtape "Stereo" had a lot of recognizable classic-rock samples, which ostensibly would've brought you a lot of fans from people who were sucked in by the original source material. Yet it was "Trunk Muzik" that really got you traction. Why do you think "Stereo" didn't have that sort of success?
Yelawolf: Two things: The first is that not everybody in hip-hop [messes] with classic rock. The second is that there was no real element of surprise. I'm from Alabama, I'm into classic rock -- it was obvious and there was no shock-value to it.That said, I was really focused on making sure that people understood that I respected the craft and hip-hop. "Trunk Muzik" was dedicated to the trunk riders, with 808s and hard ass [stuff]. It had a dirty Southern sound, and it opened things up.
With "Stereo," we spent a lot of time digging around and trying to be really tasteful with the samples. I know a lot of people who [mess] with "Trunk Muzik" aren't into "Stereo," but I still love it -- it contains some of the favorite records I've ever done.
L.A. Times: Growing up in Gadsden and all over the South has obviously influenced your sound. Specifically, how do you think it affects your conception of the world and your music?
Yelawolf: My homies in Gadsden aren't as exposed as I am culturally, which is awesome -- that's why I love going home. I'm in the kitchen with people who don't know anything but the simple life, what's important to them, and what's dope. That's why like I'm so drawn to the culture of Alabama -- of rednecks and all that hardcore dirty South culture because I understand it. It's so simple -- it's really black and white. That's the way that life should be. We really complicate our situation.
L.A. Times: The South isn't known for its cipher culture, but you use a double-time speed rap flow that could be Midwestern were it not for your drawl. What were your experiences like learning to rap?
Yelawolf: It was always rapping in the car -- me and my boys -- freestyling and being horrible. The only time it ever became serious to me was when I would write and then flow to instrumentals in the car, and my friends would be like, "Whoa man, you got verses." It spawned from there, it eventually got more and more serious and I developed my own style.
L.A. Times: How frustrating was it when Rick Rubin came aboard at Columbia and dropped you? You'd think that the guy who produced the Beastie Boys and "Raising Hell" would have wanted to work with you.
Yelawolf: I was like, "You don’t get it, cool? Then I guess I must be extra special." I had to be arrogant because I could've been messed up thinking that if he didn't want me, I must have nothing to offer. But that's not like me. I refuse to be like that. I've always been stubborn. I have to learn things myself, but it worked out OK -- I ended up at Interscope only a few years later.
L.A. Times: Do you worry that Interscope will force you to write pop rap songs or else you'll be unable to get your album released?
Yelawolf: If you look at my discography of music, you'll know that I can go any direction – whether it's arena rap or bluegrass hip-hop. I would never assign myself one style. If I make a record that becomes a pop hit -- who [cares]. I'm always gonna have the darker edgy music in my pocket because it comes so natural to me. You’ll never stop getting records like "Pop the Trunk" and "Good to Go." The crunk South [stuff] will always be a part of what I do in some way. But I plan on evolving -- you have to.
The integrity of my music is always in mind. I'm out to make lifelong lasting records. I know what the underground is. I’ve been there for a long time. You never really know what will break or what won't. If "Pop the Trunk" had had huge marketing behind it to put it on radio and video channels, it might've become a hit.
L.A. Times: If you could collaborate with anyone, who would it be?
Yelawolf: Willie Nelson. I really want to work with all the legends before it's too late. (source)
L.A. Times: Presumably, one of the things that attracted you to a major label like Warner Bros. was their ability to get you on the radio. Yet you had songs with Snoop Dogg and will.i.am. "Can it Be" was great and had a Jackson 5 sample, but you still couldn't get on Power 106? What happened?
Murs: They weren’t happy with what I was saying or where the album was when it was released. My management was able to force their hand into releasing it. "Can It Be" was supposed to be for the underground heads and the Snoop and Will singles were supposed to be the radio hits. They didn’t want to take the chance on what I was saying and it also came out at the end of 2008 when the economy was in a downturn. The head of the black music department at Warner had been fired and the new guy didn’t agree with what the old guy had told me.
There were lots of changes, but I didn’t get caught up in them. I was able to say, "This isn’t working for me. You promised we would go to radio. I expect you as a gentleman to let me go." Six months later, I was let go. It was ... with my business. I took a pay cut to come to a major label who only gave me an $85,000 advance, when I was grossing $200,000-$300,000 on my own. I still was able to make that, but only because I put on a festival and a national tour. They were holding me in limbo and it was like, if you aren't going to make me famous or put me on the radio, then why am I here? I went to a major to make a positive contribution and help stop the killing of the music that I love. Six months later, I was gone.
L.A. Times: Your career has been characterized by lots of change, whether it's your collaborators or labels or just different ideas you want to express. However, you've now put out four albums with 9th Wonder. What keeps on drawing you back to work with him?
Murs: I think I work with him because the fans want me to. People seem to love when we're working together -- they're always asking when the next album is coming out. In this business, there aren't many responsible people, but 9th always gets things done. We're very close -- every Thanksgiving our families get together. Whether we're recording an album or not, we're always in touch. He's a committed dude and he works as fast as I do.
I tell him what I want to say, and then I let him produce and pick the music. We have a formula that works and makes people happy.
L.A. Times: How did you end up working with Suga Free? Did he come into the studio to work with you guys?
Murs: That was a last-minute addition. We usually don't add anyone who doesn't come through the studio, but my manager also manages DJ Quik, and wanted him to do "West Coast Cinderella," but he couldn't do it in time. So they mentioned Suga Free and I was like "Suga Free and Quik are back together?" I'd always wanted to do a song with Suga where he talks about girls the way he does, and I talk about girls the way I do.
L.A. Times: It was reported earlier this year that you were planning on releasing 10 records. What's the status of all that music?
Murs: Basically, I had a lot of records done when I was at Warner Bros. -- songs that didn’t make "Murs for President" for whatever reason. Over 100 of them -- there was a lot of downtime because I wasn't touring for two years. A lot of people thought I was rushing to record music, but that wasn't the case. Unfortunately, my computer was stolen with a lot of the songs. Thankfully, there' a couple projects already finished, and a comic-book project that I'm almost done with.
L.A. Times: How was the computer stolen?
Murs: The night before Paid Dues, someone broke into my car and stole me and my wife's computers. We were driving by a club and stopped to get out and promote and hand out fliers.
L.A. Times: What are the next releases you have planned?
Murs: There's the soundtrack to the comic book [MerchGirl: The Curse of Yumiko Morales] that I'm doing with the producer Foundation. I've got a record coming with producer Terrace Martin -- it's like DJ Quik meets 2 Live Crew meets Steve Aoki. It's just nasty sex raps. I also have a record with my punk rock band called the Invincibles, done with the members of a Florida punk band called Whole Wheat Bread.
L.A. Times: Who are your favorite punk rock bands?
Murs: Definitely Rancid -- I've always wanted to remake "Time Bomb. " Green Day. Bad Brains. I really like the Deftones too, but they're more of a rock band. (source)
Homeboy SandmanThe Good Sun arrives June 1st. Interview below.
L.A. Times: Your song “Yeah, But I Can Rhyme Though” defines you in opposition to what you're not. Has it been frustrating to be an artist in a genre where most people want to fit into a prevailing trend to get a deal?
Homeboy Sandman: I’m a musician, and hip-hop is my genre, but it’s just like jazz players, or country singers or a classical artist. It’s about musicality, talent, rhyme cadence, melody, assonance, alliteration, it’s about the gift I have. Music should have nothing to do with an image; what sets me apart is my ability. Nobody asked John Coltrane what his image was -- it didn’t matter. No one could play the sax like him and nobody raps like me. I make my music to last a lifetime. I love going back to the Roots’ “Illadelph Halflife.” I love music from the 1950s and 1960s. This whole sub-culture in hip-hop of disposable music is not something that I subscribe to. I spend time on my music. There’s no 15/16 in my bars. I spend time on my lines, the production and the craft.
L.A. Times: As someone who is obviously about the lyrical craft, what do you think about rappers who have made a point of stressing how their lyrics aren’t really important because they have swag or some other intangible?
Homeboy Sandman: People ask me if I’m a lyricist, but how can you be an emcee without being one? This isn’t supposed to be something that everyone can do -- when you take away from the musicality of it all, it becomes an image-based thing, and that’s something I’m so far removed from that you might as well ask me to speak about Dale Earnhardt. I don’t want to do things that have been done before.
L.A. Times: Did you expect such a large homecoming when you were released from prison?
Flesh N Bone: It was something that we’d talked about, but I didn't know that it was going to go down, and certainly not with all of the Bones, my moms, my pops, and my in-laws. They were all right there on a 12 passenger tour bus and we went straight to the studio. It's been like that for the last year and nine months. We've been on the road and we're making progress with our music. Not to mention the hundreds of songs that we have in the archives. It's been nothing but constant work -- we're trying to keep focused on doing big business.
L.A. Times: How is the dynamic different with the group these days?
Flesh N Bone: The dynamic is a lot different. I'm divorced and re-married now with a new 8-month-old son. There was a lot of focus on us at the beginning. We were kids in our late teens and early 20s, and we saw the wealth, the fame, the status and the hype of the industry. Everything was going thousands of miles an hour, and it took for me to go through what I had to go through for us to understand that what we’re dealing with is a bona fide business.
Of course, it's still fun, but we’re such mature adults now and we can appreciate the gift and the blessing of being able to do this. We realize that not everything is promised to us. For me to come out of prison and be able to return to this is something that I'm so grateful for. I was reckless at 25 years old, I was reckless at 18, I'm not that reckless anymore. I look at this as white collar, something that feeds generations. It's really serious today.
L.A. Times: During your time in jail, how cognizant of the group's fortunes were you, and were you constantly focused on what you were going to do when you got out?
Flesh N Bone: The focus was definitely there. I was praying really hard for them to be able to keep it together, and for Bizzy to overcome any obstacles that he’d been going through. Thankfully, we’re all still well and alive today. For me to get torn away from the group, Layzie, Krayzie and Wish did an exceptional job to keep them rocking and rolling. There was never an instance when they weren't successful just because one or two members weren’t there -- what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
I wasn't able to keep tabs on them as closely as I would've liked, but I know everyone always had open arms for Bizzy and that the mic was always waiting for him. But now, he's back and at home. We promised the fans that Bizzy would be on this album and we made it happen. There's been a lot of ups and down with us, but it's still Bone Thugs being Bone Thugs. We're always individuals and humble and recognizing and empathizing and sympathizing with our fans.
L.A. Times: Eazy-E was the first one to put Bone Thugs on. What was it about him that made you target him when you were trying to get a deal?
Flesh N Bone: We always felt that special connection with Eric "Eazy-E" Wright. Even though we were speaking with other labels, our heart was always set on contacting Eazy. He was the underdog and he created his own category. He was the first one to bring the aggressive street mentality to the game, and he was an innovator who deserves to go down in hip hop history as one of the godfathers of rap. He was a genius in his own right -- in those two years with him, we learned so much. He taught us about the business and its etiquette, marketing and how to promote. The key was that you can't make money without the music. He was a creative genius and a very wise man. He spoke very elegantly.
L.A. Times: Bone Thugs also was the only group to collaborate with The Notorious B.I.G., 2Pac, and Big Punisher. How did those songs come about?
Flesh N Bone: With Biggie, we had and continue to have a great relationship with Puffy, so when they were in town they invited us over to the studio to work with him. I was actually supposed to have a verse on "Notorious Thugs" but it was too long as it was -- however, I was able to kick it there in the studio and enjoy Biggie and Puffy's company.
We met 2Pac through our close relationship with the Outlawz. 2Pac had met Bizzy first and immediately the two of them developed a bond and went to the studio to work together. It was Bizzy who set it all up. I was actually the one who met Big Pun. It came when I was in New York and getting ready to do a song with Fat Joe on my debut solo album, and he brought Pun along. He actually wrote the hook, but I didn't even know who Pun was until he spit his lyrics. A lot of people don't know that he actually got his industry debut on my solo album.
L.A. Times: So now that the tour is over, what's next for Bone Thugs?
Flesh N Bone: We’re going to get back home, get some rest, get back in the lab and continue that mission. We've working on a treatment for a script about the real life story story of Bone Thugs-N-Harmony. Los Angeles is the home base these days, and we're trying to get our feet wet in feature film projects, as well as a Bone Thugs book. Of course, the music is always in effect. (source)
L.A. Times: You haven’t released a solo album in nine years. What made you decide that the time was right now, and what made you turn to Terrace Martin to do the lion’s share of production?
Kurupt: Terrace and I have been working together for quite some time, and I felt he deserved the opportunity to produce an entire album. He brought the best out of me musically. I’ve always liked to work with one producer for my albums, from Dre to Daz to Soopafly to Quik. I got this idea for the record one night when I was leaving the club and I saw the streetlights go out one by one as I was driving home. I felt like it was a metaphor for life passing me by, so I went to Terrace and said that we had to make an album together to make sure that that didn’t happen.
L.A. Times: During most of the last decade, it seemed that a lot of veteran '90s rappers had trouble finding their own lane or even consistently releasing music. But over the last two years, it seems like yourself and a lot of your peers have returned to form. What happened and why the sudden resurgence?
Kurupt: I think everybody was going through something, I know I was. In a sense, it’s just life and you get upset, and you respond. Everybody seemed like they were going through a hiatus where they were trying to figure it all out. I was trying to figure out who I was in real life. No one likes to hear a real life story unless they can see it, or digitalize it, or be a part of it musically. Sometimes you go through a hiatus and you shut down and do what you do. I’d experienced a separation from myself, Ricardo Brown and Kurupt, the artist.
L.A. Times: What did you take away from that hiatus?
Kurupt: I learned that I had to raise my kids. I had to make music for grown folks. It’s made for the kids too but it’s made for the adults primarily. I don’t make music for 14-year-olds anymore. I’ve learned a lot from the experiences I’ve had in this ball game. I’m damn near 20 years deep. In the end, I learned that you have to be patient. It’s not always about the music, it’s not always personal, I had to learn how to separate the two.
L.A. Times: Your collaboration with Quik connected with a lot of people. What did you take away from working with him?
Kurupt: I learned that patience is a virtue, that it’s OK to take your time and allow artists to do what they want to do. Artists do their best work when they’re in a comfortable spot. With the Quik project, we knew that we wanted to go some other place, without samples and B.S. We knew that it would turn out big.
L.A. Times: Your name continually pops up on greatest rappers lists. If you were going to compile your own best rapper’s list, who would be on it.
Kurupt: Rakim and Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, LL Cool, Ice Cube. Those were my favorites when I was coming up. (source)
Above, Jay-Z and musician Ira Tuton of Yeasayer backstage during Day 1 of the Coachella Valley Music & Art Festival 2010 held at the Empire Polo Club on April 16, 2010 in Indio, California.
Is it not enough to land one of the richest deals in pop music history, marry into R&B/pop royalty and score 11 No. 1 albums? Jay-Z has done all that plus shattered the glass ceiling for straight-up hip-hop acts playing the mainstage at Coachella (respect to the Beastie Boys).
The Times’ chief pop critic Ann Powers may have put it best when she noted that Jay-Z is “taking strong steps to adjust his place in history from the ‘great’ category to the ‘legendary.’ ”
Just a couple of hours before he's due to go on, it's worth considering.
But to hear it from Hovi Baby, who turned 40 in December, he’s hardly content to slide by on past glories. With the same icy professionalism that has defined his most notable career moves -- investing in the successful chain of 40/40 Club sports bars, taking on part ownership of the New Jersey Nets basketball team -- Jay-Z has surveyed the marketplace and run a diagnostic on his biggest liabilities.
And the man who anointed himself “the greatest rapper alive” cops to a surprising level of insecurity as he slides toward middle age.
“I have the biggest challenge of them all, I believe,” Jay told The Times last month at the New York offices of his clothing label Rocawear. “Hip-hop in its 32-whatever years has always been viewed as a young man’s game. Hip-hop has always been about the gift of discovery. What’s new? Yeah, I know Jay-Z. That’s ain’t even cool to say he’s good anymore. It’s cool to say MC Nobody and put that on my iPod.”
“Hip-hop is all about ‘You doing this? I’m doing that’ -- the individualism it gave you," he continued. “People are like, ‘Oh, that’s fresh!’ Fresh: the biggest word in hip-hop.”
In an age of fad dances and auto-tune-dominated gimmick-raps, when popularity is judged by ring-tone download ubiquity as much as radio play, Jay-Z feels a strong sense of obligation to hip-hop culture -- instead of to his ego, his concert promoter Live Nation or the bottom line -- to continue coming correct.
“So my challenge is to expand,” he said. “To grow hip-hop and the genre. My job, Eminem’s job, everyone who’s been performing for more than a year, our job is to push this thing forward and find some kind of truth in where we are now. It has to be about something. Truth, emotion, growth. In order for us to survive as a legitimate genre of music, we have to stretch out.” (source)
During the recording of “The Blueprint 3,” Jay-Z’s latest chart-topping full-length, the Brooklyn-born rapper gleaned something from frequent collaborator Kanye West: how to transform album tracks into arena-sized epics. In front of a sold-out Staples Center crowd on Friday night (Friday, March 26) and backed by a 10-piece-band -- a three-member horn section, two guitarists, keyboardists and two drummers, along with backup emcee Memphis Bleek – the lyricist born Shawn Carter proved he could deliver a similar punch in a live setting. Drawing maximum response from the audience, he playfully asked them to throw their diamonds in the sky and repeatedly thanked them for their support. He even sang “Happy Birthday” to a fan holding a “Birthday Girl” sign.
Jay-Z, the hustler turned rapper turned brand name as big as the borough itself, owned the sold-out Staples Center. “This is Sinatra at the opera, bring a blond,” he rapped on “D.O.A. (Death of Auto-Tune).” And if the spectacle wasn’t exactly Wagner’s “Ring Cycle,” at times it felt like an egalitarian equivalent. A wide demographic mix of the infamously fractionalized Los Angeles was drawn to the 40-year-old rapper who has almost single-handedly spawned the genre “classic rap.”
Many arrived dressed for a Friday night, as though they were gunning for a cameo on “Entourage.” Models clutching Gucci handbags stood among tabloid fodder, Chris Rock, Christina Aguilera, actors in Affliction tees tailed by Barbie blonds and B-boys in baggy pants. A duo donned outfits honoring the 15th anniversary of N.W.A. founder Eazy-E’s death (Compton caps and Eazy T-shirts) -- a milestone Jay-Z neglected to mention when he shouted out, “R.I.P. 2Pac, the Notorious B.I.G., Big Pun, Big L and Pimp C,” following an electrifying a capella denouement to “Big Pimpin’.”
“I can sell ice in the winter, I can sell fire in hell. I’m a hustler.”
Although he has boasted of his entrepreneurial beginnings on the street earning seed money by “flipping a record company from a half a [kilo],” Jay-Z’s renegade independent days are in the past. “I used to duck shots/but now I eat quail/I’ll probably never see jail,” he raps on "Real as It Gets." He’s the mega-star who two years ago inked a reported $150-million partnership with Live Nation Entertainment to advance his Jay-Z brand.
It’s a business that strives to be as ubiquitous as Coca-Cola or Nike. Before the show, big screens solicited the audience to “text BP3” and join the “Jay-Z movement.” Outside along L.A. Live's shrill fluorescent walkways, people signed up to win merchandise made by one of his companies, Roc Nation.
Dovetailing with his corporate successes as the former chief executive of Def Jam Recordings is Jay-Z’s consummate professionalism. One can scoff at the disconnect between his hood tales and his current stature, but there’s no denying his style, or his hits, as impressive a body of work as any rapper ever. From “Ain’t No” to “Hard Knock Life (Ghetto Anthem),” “I Just Wanna’ Love U (Give it 2 Me)” to “Empire State of Mind,” Jay-Z can fill a two-hour set with a keen, razor-sharp lyrical catalog memorized by 20,000 people. And that’s what he did, with his band teasing out the arrangements out to fulfill Carter’s orchestral, “Avatar” sized aspirations.
“I’m on to the Next One.”
Friday’s show presented the latest incarnation of Jay-Z. If his recent work hasn’t been as critically or commercially successful as his early output, it has been his grandest in scope. Other rappers have played Staples, but none with Jay-Z’s worldwide stature. Many have achieved mass appeal, but none have sustained it as long. He eggs the adoring crowd on, “I have 11 No. 1 albums.” But everyone already knows this, which is why they forked over half-a-week’s paycheck for tickets.
His only real misstep of the night was ceding the stage to Young Jeezy for a 30-minute interlude. The Atlanta emcee gamely attempted to fill the void, but in the process illustrated how difficult it is to command such a large crowd. Thankfully, a brief Ice Cube cameo to perform “Check Yo’ Self” appeased the restless.
“I’m from where the hammer’s rung, where the news cameras never come…where the grams is slung.”
The evening’s most poignant moment, a rare respite from the avalanche of explosive lights and flashing LED screens, arrived when Jay-Z delved into his back catalog, performing “Can I Live” and “Where I’m From.” The two tracks served as a reminder that despite his evolution, here was the same Jay-Z who won over first the doubters and then the masses since the summer of ’96. But as great as the original version was, it never could have sold out the Staples Center, or validated the words of “Encore,” the final song of the night, with the line, “I came, I saw, I conquered, from record sales, to sold out concerts.”
Coachella Valley Music & Arts Festival appearance: Apr 16 Indio, CA - Empire Polo Club
Jay-Z European Tour Dates:
Jun 4 Rock am Ring, Germany Jun 5 Rock im Park, Germany Jun 6 Paris Bercy, France Jun 7 Manchester, UK - Manchester Evening News Arena Jun 9 Birmingham, UK - LG Arena Jun 11 Isle of Wright, UK - Seaclose Park Jul 2 Eurockeennes Belfort, France Jul 4 London, UK - Hyde Park - Wireless Festival Jul 9 Oxygen, Ireland Jul 10 Frauenfeld, Switzerland - Openair Frauenfeld Jul 11 T in the Park, Scotland
Four years ago, J.R. Rotem made a pivot from straightforward, trunk-rattling gangsta rap productions to helming saucy mainstream pop tracks. The switch worked. His hit tracks for Britney Spears and Rihanna vaulted him from rap’s A-list into the clouds of frothy club-pop, with the attendant tabloid attention – including a quick-burning relationship with Britney that he vividly (he says jokingly) detailed in a notorious 2007 Blender Magazine article.
His extracurricular exploits threatened to derail Rotem the musician. So, in 2007, he re-calibrated his production goals and established Beluga Heights, a label imprint where he could cultivate new vocal talent. Sean Kingston, the teenage Jamaica-via-Miami singer, hit first with “Beautiful Girls,” one of the defining songs of that summer.
That tune set a template of Caribbean-inflected, beat-driven synth-pop for Rotem that, three years later, has sneakily become one of the dominant sounds of pop radio. His latest project, the debut from young singer-songwriter Jason Derulo out today, sports two sleek and absolutely inescapable singles in “Whatcha Say” and “In My Head,” while he simultaneously led Iyaz’s breakout track “Replay” to No. 2 on the Billboard's pop chart.
It seems like Rotem’s finally made a second major move in his music career, having become one of a select group of producers who spin singular chart gold out of completely unknown artists.
“That’s what’s becoming our forte, identifying raw talent,” Rotem said from the minimalist, workmanlike lounge inside his Mid-City recording studio. “My brother Tommy does our A&R and he spends an awful lot of time on MySpace.”
The idea of the Rotem brothers leaving the pop troposphere to troll through epilepsy-inducing MySpace pages for new talent seems unlikely. But the formula is paying off -- he has a perfect score on breaking his first three Beluga Heights debuts, and it’s given him a wide berth to refine his productions. He’s steered his sound away from such sample-heavy rewrites as Rihanna's “SOS” into an idiosyncratic mix of Euro-besotted trance synths, rap’s drum machine clatter and insatiably melodic, reggae-tinged songwriting.
“There is a weird connection to the islands here,” Rotem said. “There’s a lot of melody and soul in that music, and when you add synths, it’s just pure ear candy, but the vocals are still really organic. What I’m interested in now is how you can take an artist who is being true to themselves, but make everyone relate to it."
Along the way, Rotem himself became vastly more relatable. Gone are the the designer sunglasses and did-he-or-didn’t-he allusions to bedding half the starlets between Vine Street and the 405. It was all a projection of his aspirations, he said. He imagined that to produce for the best (or bestselling), you have to shop and party with them.
But today, in a rumpled hoodie fit for a Whole Foods run, Rotem’s finally put his hands back on something more creatively renumerative -- his keyboard.
“I wasn’t being evil then, it just wasn’t who I was supposed to be,” he said. “I needed to get that out of my system. It was insecurity, ultimately. Nothing productive ever came out of me being on a tabloid site. But it was a lesson that music has to take precedence.” (source)
Pop & Hiss was privy to a top secret recording session Tuesday (Feb. 2) night involving a supergroup of sorts covering one of the most recognized songs in rock history: Led Zeppelin’s classic “Stairway to Heaven.” The players? Soul queen Mary J. Blige on vocals, guitar god Steve Vai and his pop protégé Orianthi on rhythm and lead guitars, respectively, Travis Barker on drums and “American Idol” judge Randy Jackson on bass, with producer Ron Fair (Christina Aguilera, Pussycat Dolls) handling piano, the arrangement and all-star recruitment. The track’s destination: Blige’s 10th studio album, due out later this year.
“What people don't know about me is I've been a rock 'n' roll fan for years,” Blige said after wrapping her 17th vocal take at Capitol Records Studio A. “I loved soft rock as a child. I'm full of this stuff, naturally.” She also had one massive international hit with a rock song, a cover of U2’s “One,” which Blige performed with Bono on the 2007 Grammy Awards, but it never had the same success stateside that the single saw in Europe.
Still, ever since the collaboration, it’s Bono who’s been pushing Blige to embrace her inner rock star, so blame him if you hate the concept. “Some people might consider it blasphemy, but Mary’s voice really is a nice match [for the song],” said Fair. “Robert Plant’s high-pitched blues thing is right in step with Mary's vocal range, and she brings the soul music to it, which is what Plant was going for in the first place.”
Indeed, Blige had no trouble hitting “Stairway’s” sweet spots and making its boldest moments her own, but she was also keenly aware of not just replicating the original. “You approach it as yourself, you don't try to be the artist,” she said.
That sentiment was echoed by the various players in the room, who found themselves strangely star-struck by one another. In one corner, Jackson sang the praises of Blige (“She can do anything, Mary is the truth!”), in the other, Orianthi was admiring Jackson and “what a monster bass player he is,” while Blige was ogling over Orianthi, whom she remembered seeing in "Michael Jackson's This Is It” movie. “What a surprise it was for Ron to bring her here,” said Blige. “I really love how she plays.”
Because the track was recorded backward, with the drum-heavy second half finished before the four-minute acoustic first act, Barker was out early, around 5 p.m. And amazingly, though they only started working at 3 p.m., the mostly live recording was pretty much finished by 7 p.m. “This is how records used to be made, and I love it,” said Orianthi, who also participated in Monday’s “We Are the World” remake. “Everyone comes in, you do your best, put everything into it, and by the end of the day, you have a song.”
L.A. Times: How did you become involved with the remake?
RedOne: I got a call last minute from Lionel Richie asking me to come up with a track for the song.
L.A. Times: Just like that?
RedOne: Yeah. It was like a dream-come-true kind of phone call, you know? He’s a friend of mine. He’s always been supportive of my music. He’s always given me advice on how to do things. He’s been like a big brother to me. So I got a call from him and Quincy [Jones, who produced the original single] saying I should do a version of this. I did, last minute. I was so nervous. I had nightmares. Thank God I delivered. The next day, we went to play the song for Quincy. There were a few people who tried different versions. But Quincy said, “Your version is by far the best.” So that was pretty nice.
L.A. Times: A huge roster of stars participated.
RedOne: Yeah. We recorded after the Grammys [where RedOne took home two trophies for his work with Lady Gaga], so that helped. All the stars were in town. It was an experience of a lifetime. The funny thing is, a few months ago, me and Lionel were at the same studio and he was telling me all these stories about the original “We Are the World.” About how magical it was … all these huge names in the same room. He was like, “Those things don’t happen every day.” I was listening like a little kid. The next thing you know, I’m experiencing it. … it was like the next generation. To be chosen as the producer from this generation to do it, it was incredible.
L.A. Times: What was the vibe like with so many big stars in one room?
RedOne: It was a nice spirit. This thing isn’t about me as a producer or the artists as artists. It was about helping Haiti. It was like how Quincy said, “Check your egos at the door.” Everybody was helping.
L.A. Times: How do you manage all those voices?
L.A. Times: In the studio, we had a few rooms. We didn’t have a lot of time. We had one day when everyone could do it. We were doing different vocals in different rooms. The choir, we did it live with everyone there.
L.A. Times: As a producer, what was it like to be part of remaking something that has such a huge legacy?
RedOne: I think that's why Quincy and Lionel asked me. They wanted someone current but someone who would stay true to the first one. Honestly, I didn’t want to change too much. I have too much respect for the original. It's such a classic. I kept the magic and the musicality of the first one and just gave it a little fresher sound for the audience of now, so the new generation could appreciate it.
L.A. Times: I’m sure you felt a lot of pressure taking on the project.
RedOne: Oh, of course. My God. The pressure was big. But having people like Lionel and Quincy -- the most humble people who were very supportive -- helped. They gave me directions. But it was a lot of pressure. I told you, I had nightmares. Thank God they loved it. I was living a dream.
L.A. Times: Did you feel the spirit of Michael Jackson that day?
RedOne: Absolutely. Michael was a charity person. He loved helping people. He loved it. He loved helping anybody who needed it. And, of course, the spirit of Michael was there with us. We felt his energy. And with what’s going on in Haiti, I mean, that’s why we were all there. Nobody was thinking about their ego. This was about Haiti. Like Jaime Foxx, he told me … Jamie Foxx came to me and said “Red, don’t worry about me. I’m here for as long as you need me. Do your thing. If someone wants to sing first, I’ll wait.” There was a lot of that. Good spirit and positivity.
L.A. Times: Did you ever think that you'd be working with Tony Bennett on a track? Or so many of the other artists?
RedOne: Right! There was Wyclef, Tony, Celine, Akon, Barbra Streisand. I would never have thought it was possible. It’s incredible. Just sitting with Quincy Jones and Lionel in one room -- it’s beyond comprehension. And it’s all to help a country. The main idea is to touch people’s hearts. To send a message: help, help, help. We tried to perfect our creativity to transmit that to people because music is the No. 1 thing that unites people. We just want to raise as much money as possible for Haiti. (source)
L.A. Times: You were able to secure your masters per the terms of the severance agreement with Aftermath. What exactly is contained on those recordings?
Bishop Lamont: We’re about to finally bless the world with a lot of music. It got to the point where it wasn’t fair to the fans or to myself to have to keep on waiting. I understand that labels have obligations, but it was difficult to have fans coming up to you and asking when I was going to get a release date. There’s a lot of crazy records I got to take with me. There’s a J Dilla record that I got with the blessing of DJ House Shoes. Tracks from DJ Khalil, Lord Finesse, 9th Wonder, Mr. Porter, Focus, basically a who’s who of underground hip-hop.
L.A. Times: And tracks from Dr. Dre?
Bishop Lamont: Yes, there are tracks from the good doctor in there.
L.A. Times: What’s the status of your relationship with Dre?
Bishop Lamont: It’s as good as it’s ever been. In the course of the time it took to get out of the Aftermath contract, I never wanted it to cause our friendship to suffer. He's like my big brother. I understand that business is business, and I’m hoping to continue working with him in the future.
L.A. Times: What’s the plan for your next release?
Bishop Lamont: I’m going to put out “The Shawshank Redemption,” a mix tape with Bink and DJ Drama that will talk about what I've been going through.
L.A. Times: You’d been working on a follow-up to “Caltroit,” the sequel to the original collaboration with Black Milk. What’s the status on that?
Bishop Lamont: There was so much going on over the past year that it had to take a back seat. But we did a record called “Fat Gold Dookie Rope” that’s probably going to be one of the first singles off the new project that we release.
L.A. Times: At one point you were planning to release a tape called “No Country For Old Men,” in which you were going to take shots at West Coast veterans for not supporting younger artists. What happened with that project?
Bishop Lamont: Snoop actually reached out to me, which was really dope. I’ve known him since I was a teenager and his brother and I are friends. A lot of people thought it was a ploy for attention, but it was about older artists supporting the younger artists. Those guys are heroes to us and it’s important to carry on the tradition. But we had a heart to heart and he explained that he’s willing to support all of us, which you can see now.
It’s important to keep the West from falling into the standard boxes you think of when you think of West Coast artists. There’s a lot of talented people out here who don’t get the shine they deserve: Pac Div, U-N-I, Med and Rocc C and Oh No from Oxnard, and a bunch more I’m forgetting at the moment. I’m liking the direction we’re going in, but there needs to be more unity and I’m in a great position where I can lead by example and move at my own pace.
L.A. Times: You’re not the only West Coast artist who has had difficulty getting a major label to release your record. At the moment, Glasses Malone, Nipsey Hussle and Jay Rock have all been able to land singles on Power 106 and still don’t have a release date in sight. Neither do Pac Div. What do you make of that?
Bishop Lamont: It's ridiculous. Nipsey's been doing his thing, Jay Rock had a hit song with Lil Wayne and will.i.am. and no one can get a release date. People sometimes get it twisted that I hate the skinny jeans kids, but that's not true at all. I love that The New Boyz are speaking for kids their own age in a way that hyphy never had the chance to do. But none of the labels are giving the West Coast artists a chance right now, they're busy trying to figure out a new design for the business -- all of a sudden the machine they created is working against them. That's one of the reasons why I'm working toward getting Diocese Records off the ground.
I'm trying to build a label for everything from rap to R&B to jazz to alternative rock to country. We're trying to do everything in-house, with videos done by DJ Skee and Matt Alonzo, and radio and Internet promotion done right. Artists would come to me when I was at Aftermath and I told them that their best bet was to avoid signing with a major. They thought I was hating, but the labels want to give you 360 degree deals and take all of your publishing and your merchandise and publishing. If an artist can sell 40,000 copies on their own, they're rich. If they sell 40,000 on a major, they get dropped.
L.A. Times: What's the status of your own album, "The Reformation?"
Bishop Lamont: It's almost finished. There's so many records, but I've had the blessing to be able to sit with Ram Dass lately in Maui, and the books he's given me and the things I've learned have been so dope. I'm almost overwhelmed. It's hard to know where to begin. I've been sitting down with so many amazing people lately and learning and evolving so much, that's it's just crazy. There's nothing better than being able to have my freedom. (source)
The field at a glance: Three of the last five years, the best rap album went to Kanye West. During the eligibility period for the 2010 awards, West drifted from his hip-hop past, offering up a collection of moody pop with "808s and Heartbreak," and thus opening up the rap album field.
But West isn't the only superstar absent from this category. Due to a one-month advance in the eligibility period from Sept. 31 to Aug. 31, Jay-Z's "The Blueprint 3" missed the window to be considered for the 2010 awards, having been released on Sept. 8. The omission of the 2010 Coachella headliner will be felt, as the album has sold more than 1.5 million copies in just four months, according to Nielsen SoundScan.
What's left, however, is a rather broad snapshot of hip-hop over 2009. Flo Rida maintained his dominance as a singles artist, as his "Right Round" featuring Ke$ha sold more than 4 million downloads throughout 2009. His album "R.O.O.T.S.," however, didn't make the same impact as its individual cuts.
Introspective rapper and perennial nominee Common went the party route with his more lighthearted "Universal Mind Control," and indie-minded artists such as Mos Def and Q-Tip are also represented in the field. Q-Tip's album, "The Renaissance," was released in late 2008 and featured him melding hip-hop and neo-soul, as well as working with an impressive group of collaborators including Norah Jones and Nelly Furtado. It should be the kind of easily approachable album Grammy voters love, but it's far from the biggest success in the category, as Eminem's first album in five years, "Relapse," rounds out the field.
And the Grammy goes to: Book it for Eminem. Though some of the rapper's outrageous attacks at times felt a bit dated or obvious (Jessica Simpson? Hannah Montana?), the album still achieved the kind of sales success that voters won't pass up. To date, the spring release has sold more than 1.75 million copies, and whether making borderline violent videos or lashing out at Mariah Carey, Eminem proved to still be adept at garnering headlines. Q-Tip deserves it, but Eminem will get his fourth best rap album Grammy on Jan. 31. (source)
How did you end up collaborating with The Black Lips and King Khan?
Originally, it came about through my manager Heathcliff [Berru]. The bands were fans of Wu-Tang and I and we decided to perform together. It worked out well; they’re good musicians and we have a mutual admiration and love. The thing is, they were already connecting with me in some way first. I’d never heard their music before, but I was feeling it and when I saw both of those groups perform live, I knew I could work with them. The vibe was there.
Much of current hip-hop -- particularly the more mainstream iteration -- is characterized by glossy shiny-sounding production. Did some of your desire to work with the Black Lips and King Khan stem from the similarity of their lo-fi aesthetic to the beats you came up rhyming on?
That’s my problem with the stuff today -- it doesn’t sound raw and uncut. When the Black Lips sent a track over to me, I thought it sounded like a Beastie Boys track, the way the singer was singing and flowing on it. He was right in the pocket. You don’t get hip-hop that sounds that gritty anymore, you get some Auto-tune, ping-pong computer-made and Casio stuff.
And the collaboration with Devendra Banhart?
GZA: I met Devendra at Coachella. I watched him and Gang Gang Dance perform and thought they both put on really great performances. I was like ‘who is this guy,’ because he was rocking, and it turned out that he was a big fan. When I met him, he told me what an honor it was and how much he loved “Liquid Swords” and Wu-Tang. So it was a beautiful connection.
A lot of rappers have tried to chase whatever trend was hot, whether it’s Auto-tune or getting the hottest R&B hookman on a track, but you’ve carved out a different path.
I think it’s about being original and creative. You’ve got to be comfortable with yourself. There’s no set way to do anything. Sometimes you have to go outside the box, sometimes you can do things the standard way. Like you don’t have to have a beat to write a song, sometimes you can write lyrics without the music. A lot of artists think that to be current, you have to follow what’s out there and do something that’s so unlike what you normally do. It can work but it doesn’t if you chase it.
What’s the current status of your next album with the indie-rock collaborations? Also, what’s going on with the Wu-Tang? Are there plans to do another album?
I’ve got some songs done for my own album, but I’m still writing and recording. There’s been talks about doing another Wu-Tang album and going out on the road to promote it. We’ve just all got to get together and do it. (source)
Elvis Presley's 75th birthday is upon us, and I can't stop thinking about Lil Wayne. Comparing the long-departed King to the soon-to-be incarcerated Best Rapper Alive might seem ludicrous to some; certainly Presley's accomplishments outstrip those of Dwayne Michael Carter. But there's a logic to the association.
Both artists leaped to stardom out of a troubled South: Elvis on the verge of the civil rights movement, Weezy in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. Both gained fame on the strength of vocal performances that took established styles (rockabilly and urban blues; syrupy rap) to startling extremes.
Both combined a dandyish sex appeal with the classic American charm of someone getting over -- sneaking across the sturdy boundaries of class, race and region by deploying a talent that delighted its owner by coming naturally. Both have been compared to space aliens.
Rock music can be defined many ways: One is as a Southern-born, blues-based, multiracial, male-dominated genre exploring such risky subjects as sex, drugs and the high life in general while still aiming for a youth-driven mass audience. On those terms, rock's era of dominance begins with Elvis' "Hound Dog" and ends with Wayne's "A Milli."
Presley was the dark-lidded white boy whose illicit race-crossing sound enacted a musical era that paralleled the most transformative period in American race relations since the Civil War. Wayne isn't as historically influential, but as the most aggressively gifted representative of the Dirty South, he might be the last crucial voice in the cultural conversation leading up to the Obama era.
I don't believe in the term "post-racial," but I do think pop has entered a new phase, in which rock is no longer the defining force in American popular culture. Weezy's desire to be a rock star, embodied in his often-stalled Coldplay and Lenny Kravitz-influenced album "Rebirth," seems like the rock era's last transgressive gasp as it gives way to a new kind of hybrid that hasn't yet completely emerged.
Wayne even has a protégé, Short Dawg, who also calls himself Elvis Freshly. Old gods die hard and are always available for resurrection. --Ann Powers (source)
A few years ago, the majority of kids turning out for DJ A-Trak shows were what he called “uber DJ fans” who preferred to film him for YouTube clips, as opposed to doing what his mixing suggested: dance.
But more bodies have been moving in the last couple of years, according to A-Trak, the 27-year-old DJ born Alain Macklovitch in Montreal. The wunderkind turntablist began winning international DJ awards at age 15, making him one of the youngest, greatest masters of the decks. He will bring his ever-evolving mix of rap, breakbeat, techno and house to the HARD New Year’s Eve DJ party on Thursday.
The Brooklyn-based DJ has a new look (think maturing hipster: Beard and fedora have replaced baseball cap and sunglasses), and he's pushing his sound further into the realm of the international dance charts in an attempt to further blur genre classification.
“This time is reminiscent of the mid-'90s, where hip-hop guys were making house music," he said during a tour stop in Mexico City. "That’s what allows me to play this Jeezy record or this Gucci Mane record next to some weird German techno record, because to me they make sense together.”
A-Trak started his indie imprint Fool’s Gold Records in 2007, toward the end of his 4-year run as Kanye West’s official tour DJ. He’s always kept busy with dance-worthy remixes, most recently of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ “Heads Will Roll," but his latest focus is on planning his next album.
"It's kind of a blank canvas," he says. "It's my production, turned into song structure. Halfway between rap and electronic and whatever else I listen to. I'm not trying to make an esoteric, weird DJ record."
“Crack a Bottle” – Eminem featuring Dr. Dre and 50 Cent
“So crack a bottle / Let your body waddle / Don’t act like a snobby model / You just hit the Lotto,” Em sing-raps on the chorus of this party track. The operative thinking here conflates sobriety with snootiness and getting wasted with winning a lottery jackpot.
“Blame It” – Jamie Foxx featuring T-Pain
“Blame it on the Goose, got ya feelin’ loose / Blame it on the 'trón, catch me in a zone / Blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol,” Foxx sings with no small amount of added Auto-tune attitude in this boudoir jam that was all but inescapable on Top 40 radio earlier this year. Yes, he is talking about Grey Goose and Patrón. But later in the song, he lays bare his reasoning: by continuing to fill a potential love interest’s cup, she’s more likely to lose her inhibitions – “Fill another cup up / Feelin’ on your butt what?”
“Crazy Night” – R. Kelly featuring R. City
“This Hennessy got me,” R. Kelly croons on the lead cut from his latest album, “Untitled.” Then he gets to the chorus: “If you’re drinkin’ what I’m drinkin’, put your hands up in the sky / If you’re thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’, you’ll say, 'What a crazy night!' ” But R’s consumption hardly stops there. In the song, he also brags of a “thousand dollar” bar tab, concluding, “I need another shot of that Bacardi” -- recklessly ignoring the inevitability of a hangover such booze mixing will provoke.
“Shots” – LMFAO featuring Lil Jon
Jägerbombs, lemon drops, Jello shots and kamikazes as well as premium liquors such as Ciroc Vodka and the rappers’ de facto favorite (judging by its ubiquity in hip-hop songs since 2006) Patrón tequila all get a shout-out on this Crunk-inflected club-banger. Even if the song’s “we came to party” ethos is hardly groundbreaking, its hook remains unforgettable: Lil Jon hoarsely screaming the word “shots!” 16 times in a row.
“Maldito Alcohol” – Pitbull
Reggaeton was no stranger to hip-hop’s reigning dipsomania. Exhibit A: Boriquan rapper Pitbull spitting lyrics (in Spanish) such as “I don’t want water / I want a drink”. . . “Damn alcohol, sweet torment / Give me a drink on the rocks.”
“One More Drink” – Ludacris
An unapologetic ode to putting on one’s “beer goggles,” “One More Drink’s” narrative drama revolves around the ramifications of Luda having that proverbial one too many. Drunk driving and bedding ugly women ensues: “Surrendered to the woman / And her bringin’ me home / Because she looked better / Every shot of Patrón.”
“I’m So Gone (Patrón)” – Chamillionaire featuring Bobby Valentino
Chamilly and Bobby Valentino go for the obvious couplet here, rhyming “I’m poppin’ bottles of Patrón” with “all night long.” For the rapper, it’s clear that alcohol provides a palliative for his worldly concerns. “I’mma wash my problems away,” Chamillionaire raps. “Tonight I need a drank.” R&B Lothario Valentino, meanwhile, announces that he doesn’t usually drink but admits he’s “gone” -- read: wasted -- from drinking a mixture of tequila and rose wine.
“Wasted” – Gucci Mane
“Party, party, party, let’s all get wasted,” the rapper exhorts on this hit single. “Shake it for me baby girl, do it butt naked / I’m so wasted, she so wasted / Tell the bartender send me 20 more cases.” The discrete charms of this hit single don’t end with the incontrovertible logic of its chorus, however. Mane also presumes the intoxication of certain notorious pop divas, mentioning that the booze has got him “geeking like Whitney and Britney.”
“Patrón Tequila” – the Paradiso Girls featuring Lil Jon
We can all agree that Crunkmeister Lil Jon was the man behind this year’s most unabashedly pro-booze music. On this paean to rap’s preferred tipple, though, the Paradiso Girls make vocal a silken threat: “By the end of the night, I’mma have you drunk and throwin’ up.”
