Denim Goldmine (The Cipher '08)

Jun 05, 2008

Denim Goldmine (The Cipher '08) · by Abe Beame

Rafi’s note: Apologies, this post has been in my inbox for a week. That’s why it references the now-leaked Carter III as something yet to hit the world. Abe’s notes on that album coming tomorrow.

After an obligatory roll call, eMC’s The Show begins somewhere in America, where the predominantly New York City crew waits in an airport to be picked up for a show by a middle class white boy named Adam. Adam has apparently booked the concert and is responsible for the super group’s presence, and as we join eMC they are waiting impatiently for his arrival. Adam finally pulls up out of breath. Having run into car troubles he’s borrowed his mom’s Denali, and proceeds to do whatever he can to cater to eMC during their brief stay. The protagonists and narrators of The Show are underground veterans Masta Ace, Wordsworth, Punchline and Strick. We follow the group throughout their spotless concept album during a day in the life on the road, but arguably this humble, classically rooted album belongs to Adam, the fanatically dedicated patron of true school Hip Hop.

At the beginning of the year, with album sales having returned to Earth and the mythic 12 year old white girl in middle America taking her allowance elsewhere, many still invested in the genre wondered what affect this would have on the hip-hop. My belief was with the absence major label micro management, the rise of outfits like Koch and the unlikely emergence of this community of Rap nerds as the only demographic left standing, the music would respond as any market would and begin to focus on its base. In other words, it’s morning in Hip Hop. 2008 has reached its halfway point, and while the releases that have garnered the most attention in these natty internet corners are widely varied, they share some interesting similarities that largely speak to what Hip Hop has become, and what it’s missing.

The Jazz Liberators’ Clin D’Oeil is the kind of project that we used to dream about a decade ago while immersed in No Way Out and Country Grammar. It’s powered by a trio of French producers who share an affinity for 70s jazz and soul over Golden age drum patterns. Like Guru’s Jazzmatazz project with a firm and unwavering focus on Hip Hop, it features an all star team of underground diamonds in the ruff including but not limited to Sadat X, J-Live, Fat Lip, Asheru, Buckshot and Apani B Fly MC. (Of Bronx Science fame) This album has no weak tracks and deserves infinite burn, which I have given it. However, something that struck me from my first times with this album is its lacking a feeling of resonance, it’s all clean, technically proficient, cleverly worded Hip Hop at its finest but there is something missing. And this itch is where my theory began.

Elzhi’s Europass received a breathless write up from one of East Coast styled Hip Hop’s last influential fans, Jeff Weiss. In his review he hits on every note that makes Europass a great album. Elzhi displays a tireless work ethic throughout, refusing to mail in a song, a verse, a fucking line even. Black Milk and the rest of the album’s producers who clearly share his taste are fantastic at what they do, but while Weiss wants this to mark a new direction, to me it can’t escape 9th Wonder by way of DJ Premier. That somber, East Coast, chopped up soul loop favored by Marco Polo and other new school producers in search of that early 90s sound. The shadows of an unsatisfying admission are present in Weiss’ review as he takes something of an apologists’ stance. He uses delivery and phrasing to forgive repetitive content, but he hits the nail on the head. We’ve heard this many times before, and without a fresh perspective, a bright and colorful personality that is conveyed through the writing or inventive production the listener is unable to truly get excited about what he’s hearing.

The tight jean rocking Kidz in the Hall have a Little Brotherish nostalgia for Don’t Sweat the Technique and Breakin Atoms but bring nothing new to the subject. Say what you will about The Minstrel Show but it wasn’t lacking in execution. Phonte and 9th Wonder made a fine album for people who don’t speak English or register pretension. The In Crowd is not so fortunate, quite simply failing on every level imaginable. Their ability to garner attention is impossible for me to understand. The much maligned Cool Kids on the other hand, at the very least have an idea. About a year ago I wrote a piece for this site about a personal forgotten favorite, CRU’s Da Dirty 30, and their ability to make retro rap that makes their influences clear but puts their own modern stamp on the music. While The Bake Sale EP is only worthwhile for its first half, an unforgivable sin for a ten track album, much of that first half is full of excitement. You can’t listen to the 90s babies without recognizing it was made in the 21st century, and what’s more, they don’t try to hide this. Their approach to the 88 aesthetic in terms of production immediately brought to mind what Timbaland did to bluegrass on Deliverance. And as for the MCs themselves, I would bet a pair of designer $250 Dunks they are big fans of the We Got it For Cheap mixtape series.

So what do we gather from all this? For me it says that what Hip Hop is missing at the moment is personality and vision. A stagnant shark is a dead one, and while Hip Hop will always have its true school loyalists, for many of us in 2008, tight beats, well written rhymes and clever concepts are simply not enough. This is one of many reasons I have my fingers crossed for The Carter III. This is my answer, and now that we have the artists’ collective ear I say to you don’t settle for familiar pleasantries, challenge yourselves and demand courage from your Hip Hop or the music will suffer. One of my favorite songs on eMC’s The Show comes toward its conclusion. It’s called “Winds of Change”. Being the grown ass men they are, eMC acknowledges the irretrievable passing of time, and make their peace with it by offering up the old chestnut that “the more things change, the more they stay the same”. In respect to their subject, this doesn’t ring quite true to me. However, I might be inclined to point them towards Q-Tip, who once imparted wisdom to his pops that proves true time and time again. Forget meaningless labels and age old questions of style and substance. Simply, music has to K.I.M., destroy and rebuild.

Comments for "Denim Goldmine (The Cipher '08)"

Great piece, Abe. You’re spot on.
“Winds of Change” was my favourite song on that record too. It’s refreshing to hear hip-hop veterans acknowledging that things do change.

— AaronM Jun 5, 03:26 PM
Nice work thinking unthought thoughts. How many listeners get beyond the point of impressionable enthusiasm after being let down so many times?

Key other question: will a Q-Tip solo ever see the non-Koch light of day?

— sankofa Jun 5, 11:33 PM
“Forget meaningless labels and age old questions of style and substance.” Really? But that’s always been hip hop.

Documenting culture through songs laced with tributes to sneakers, jeans or fitted hats has always been a force in hip hop. Rap music has a strong history of capturing culture by tagging songs with shout-outs to cars, clothes, gadgets, and other miscellaneous accessories – “I loved the Bo Jackson’s, the orange and blue” or “Super Nintendo, Sega Genesis, when I was dead broke… I couldn’t picture this,” or the Wu’s brilliantly defiant Garment Renaissance which is more than just a song about “Tommy Hill, Perry Ellis, Nautica, or Liz Claiborne.” Labels, product names and specific brand models (e.g. Motorola StarTac) help listeners remember what it was like at a given point in time – these are artifacts of history. They help portray chronology that is historically accurate. It’s the labels and products of a specific time that help us remember in the same way a reference to slap-boxing may conjure images of branchy 3-gram twenty sacks. Nostalgia is hip hop.

Winds of Change is certainly a song about nostalgia and throwing back, but it’s also an interactive timeline which allows us to look backward and forward by comparing “Walkmans to iPods” or “Gold Ropes to Platinum” or “Fur Kangols to headbands and fitted hats” These aren’t superficial or ‘meaningless’ label-name drops, these are iconic, historical artifacts bookmarking an amazing culture in a song for the ages.

J

— J-Mass Jun 6, 11:48 AM
“labels, product names and specific brand models (e.g. Motorola StarTac) help listeners remember what it was like at a given point in time – these are artifacts of history.”

Lest we forget the corporations reissuing such items so people who were never there can act like part of a culture they didn’t live.

— sankofa Jun 6, 01:09 PM
Throw-back is a culture in itself, it’s paying homage to a bygone era.

Fronting to “act like a part of a culture” and paying homage are two very different things.

I’ve got no issue with wearing a throw-back Yogi Berra even though I never saw the man catch. Does that mean I’m not part of the culture?

— J-Mass Jun 6, 03:32 PM
You kind of misinterpret what I’m saying J. I’m not taking issue with any specific content, content is besides the point. What I’m talking about is what you, the artist bring to the discussion. Biggie bragging about home entertainment systems and utility bills is about the best example I can think of concerning how something as commonly mentioned and uninspiring as materialism can be inventive and powerful.

— Abe Beame Jun 6, 06:06 PM
“Fronting to “act like a part of a culture” and paying homage are two very different things.”

Indeed, but when the usage of said throwbacks constitutes one’s selling point and marketing calling card, it becomes less tribute and more gimmick.

— sankofa Jun 7, 07:49 AM
OK, word Abe.

— J-Mass Jun 7, 02:11 PM