Category Archives: funk & soul
Daryl Hall is such a boss. Here he is inviting Chromeo’s P-Thugg to swim in his 1700s farmhouse with the baller indoor pool before launching into Chromeo’s Tenderoni with the crew.
Strong music and a great moment for the talkbox. Oh, and salute eighties musicians who put in work with a big glass of red wine.
Here is “No Can Do” from the same session.
[I’ve tried to load a live clip from Prince in the early 80s doing “let’s work” and I’m unable to make a digital connection. You’ll have to search for that tune yourself. I suggest the live eighties versions with Prince in a unitard. ]
“Let’s work” is an understatement from the enigmatic Prince. His output is stunning. I probably a dozen good Prince albums. Prince certainly worked.
You’ve got to work. You’ve got to work to be funky. You’ve got to work to be real. You have to work to be anything.
James Brown: “If you don’t work, you don’t eat.”
But this is the least indulgent song imaginable. This is emblematic of funk-a-teers going to work. Militarily precise in the application of snare and slap bass. Dance floor mandatory! With just enough swing to make sure you know it came from the land of 8 billion lakes or where ever Prince is from.
The real power of Prince is that if you are open and aware then you have to acknowledge his brilliance.
Also suggested is the Wax Poetics Alan Leeds article about tour managing Prince.
This is the 500th post on life of refinement. I’m proud of the non-linear series of artifacts gathered here that point toward new understandings. I use this web site to archive interesting things. Meaningful things. This is a curation of the rambling series of artifacts and patterns of representation I find significant enough to be marked and analyzed in a free open public space. This is as close to learning as we’ll ever get.
Thanks to all who read the website.
I knew of Janelle Monae and appreciated her music but only had singles in my library. Inspired by a Wax Poetics write up, I bought a copy of “The Electric Lady” last night. With two full listens into the album (barely enough to comprehend what is going on) I’m sold.
This project is wonderful dance music and a really good concept album (or an extension of a concept album to multiple projects — Monae plays an alter ego pretty consistently). The record is an extended riff on technology, cyborg/human interactions, civil rights and living life with dual identities. Given that “The Electric Lady” could be a Phillip K. Dick novel, the smooth inviting production and musicianship is what carries the project.
This albums sounds VERY eighties to me. From the sonic structure and choices of beats/samples to the rock opera lyricism of the concepts. At points I was reminded of my nostalgic childhood filled with Styx, Heart, Bon Jovi and Run DMC. The strings sound eighties. The drums sound eighties. Even the vocal harmonies remind me of eighties hits. But the eighties were a point of technological jump off and the slight broadening of pop music.
I like the futuristic world that Monae is painting. And the willingness to build futuristic pop music out of the sonic blocks of the past. Astute Monae names tracks after inspiring pioneers: “Sally Ride” (astronaut) and “Dorothy Dandridge Eye’s” (first black woman to be nominated for an Academy Award).
In the context of the blog, I’ll quote the end of the “Dance Apocalyptic” when Janelle Monae says: “I really really want to thank you for dancing to the end.” Thanks for reading and dancing ’til the end.
Hip hop syncretism — the aggressive combinations of sounds and players from many cultures. Here visible in the nice B+ film — Brasilintime w/ a cadre of great drummers and DJs. It includes:
–> One of the best examples of cultures appropriating culture ad infinitum when Jay Rocc cuts up “Apache.”
–> The Brazilian parallel with “Comanche!”
–> Not enough Nelson Triunfo.
–> Babu’s scratch session which seems the most inspired and flexible — connected to the music.
–> Paul Humphrey and Ivan “Mamao” Conti seem to jam exceptionally well together.
–> The inspired chaos of the polyrhythms made when six drummers get down and DJs cut on top of each other is a little much at times. Maybe my ears aren’t big enough . . .
–> The graphics seem excessive in the first half.
–> Hip Hop’s version of the colonial lens includes shopping for rare records in the field. American learning is commensurate with getting a bargain or getting something that other people can’t as easily get. In this case we get Paul Humphrey, Derf Reklaw and James Gadson shopping for out-of-the-ordinary percussion instruments and Cut Chemist, Egon, Madlib, Jay Rocc, and Babu shopping for records.
In some ways we can call this syncretism — where distinct cultures inform each other – exchanging language, food and music. The nod to difference that comes when the American DJs and drummers acknowledge they don’t know something about Brazilian music is matched by the assumption that they can buy and lift chunks of that music for western audiences.
I don’t have any problem with people traveling to other nations — there is something funky about this particular narrative — hunting for nuggets of music seems so crass at points. Like Egon getting the group price for all the records the crew was buying.
I dislike it when the specifics of the culture blend into the background and I like the moments of the film where the details pop out. The interviews with Brazilian drummers make this film (despite my linguistic inabilities to get chunks). I’ll probably mark some cue points in the video and chop it up — take the parts that I like and leave the rest on the digital scrap heap.
Consider this a juxtaposition to the clip about Paul McCartney and Fela. Here is Fela narrating a portion of his life. Included in this film are some great musical moments and some insights about what made Fela so dangerous.
In my opinion the liberated space he embodied and willingness to share risks make him a poignant anti-colonial force. Of course I have problems with Fela’s sexism, but the quotes from the queens in this film give us some insight into their experience.
Of course when you google “Fela’s queens” you get western women reprising the roles of the women who married and risked with Fela. Perhaps this is colonialism, that I can’t find any interviews with the “queens,” but I can find interviews with Americans playing Fela’s wives on broadway. Some communications pushes out other communications.
The illuminating blog Dangerous Minds noted that today is the birthday of the electric-disco-star Sylvester. I appreciate that they frame Sylvester’s radical elements within his Disco successes:
. . . .if it wasn’t for disco there is no way that a linebacker-sized, black, openly gay, outrageous, gender-bending performer like him could have reached the top of the world’s charts.
Happy Birthday Sylvester and all who party with ya!