Tuesday, February 25, 2003
it’s alright – I feel it! 6: dancing on the ceiling
side a
1. “kairo,” spacetime continuum. one of my favorites from the college radio days, a swirling, techno epic, like underworld crossed with orbital minus the shouty vocals. fulfilled all the promise of what electronic music was supposed to be circa ‘96, especially to someone who didn’t necessarily know all the genres and subgenres, just what sounded amazing and new.
2. “solid,” ashford & simpson. an r-and-b classic from ’84, and their only big pop crossover. I found the 45 of this over a decade ago, and have clung to it fiercely ever since. “solid”’s a positive paean to the power of love, sung by two people who should know.
3. “it’s a party (allstar remix),” busta rhymes featuring swv. maybe busta’s biggest lost banger, the song destined to be forgotten, as it was the followup to “woo-hah!! got you all in check.” remember when allstar was the remixer du jour? some damned good work he did, rearranging and reconstructing some of the biggest hiphop and r-and-b hits; here he replaced zhané with the much more ghetto-fab s-dub and reworked “party” into a jeru the damaja gone pop piece, wave after sound wave of good vibes.
4. “motörhead,” primal scream. you’d be surprised what a good, refreshing segue this is. the scream covers motorhead with great aplomb, like souped-up electrodes have been attached all over lemmy’s body, creating in the process a frankenstein, half-jourgensen, half-weatherall. a precursor to, but barely a warning of, the mind-bending sonics which were to come on xtrmntr and evil heat.
5. “sky’s the limit,” the notorious b.i.g. featuring 112. biggie discovers beautifulness, reminiscing like the little river band over a loping beat, letting 112 break in to croon all over the chorus.
6. “watcha gonna do with my lovin’ (def radio mix),” inner city. there’s classic house, and there’s inner city, who married the template of chicago house to 4-minute pop songcraft not with shotguns, but with looooooove. where a singer such as sade is often all underbelly, dark corners and pathos, lead singer paris is the polar opposite: she couldn’t sound down if she tried; her voice is up up up like a noseful of colombia’s finest.
7. “friends and strangers (the l.g. experience remix),” ronnie laws. one of the best albums you’ve never heard is the blue note remix project, vol. 1, in which mostly underground hiphop producers of ’95 took on some blue note classics from the vaults. the unquestionable highlight is this subtle, classy take on ronnie laws’ ‘70s proto-smooth jazz quiet growler, with the l.g. experience adding perfectly-matched hiphop beats whilst never overwhelming the center, laws’ sax. like an anachronistic fever dream had while dozing on a couch in between two radio stations, both fine and raw like silk.
8. “can’t wait,” redman. ah, the early ‘90s, when so much nyc rap production was hazed through a curtain of blue smoke and thick, airy keybs. and redman was more well-known for his nimble lips than his deodorant commercials. best bit: when he repeats himself in wonderment, and then points out, “I be sayin’ some shit.”
side b
1. “don’t blow a good thing,” vesta. yet another devastating killer inexplicably left off my top 80, from the woman born vesta williams, a journeywoman of r-and-b. given better material, who knows? she might’ve been the queen slotted betwixt aretha and mary j. as it was, she kind of shuffled her way through the ‘80s from label to label, song to song, nailing it like few had with this one, sparkling diamond of a track, all sinuous larry graham bassline and bellowing vox.
2. “funny how time flies (little kim mix),” intro. they were just one of a myriad of faceless mid-‘90s r-and-b male vocal groups, never anything more. she was the bonnie to biggie’s clyde, just breaking into the biz (note the designation: “little kim”). but when they teamed up on this heroin’d-out remix (all slow and slurring), kim came correct, flippin’ rhymes like “niggas bustin’ like a bitch’s hymen.” she said hymen?! muthafuckin’ right she did, just starting to show us why she was known even back then as the queen b(itch).
3. “shinjiro,” dj honda featuring mos def. ace asian hiphop construction topped by the multinational man of words, mos def.
4. “war,” bruce springsteen and the e street band. bruce and company’s live take on the edwin starr classic made it their own. the boss’ spoken intro made it stunning.
5. “two can play that game (k-klassic radio mix),” bobby brown. better than their blondie remix on it's alright 4, k-klass set upon a revitalization process of bobby’s near-misses in the u.k. circa ’94, dictated assuredly by a record company, but lifted by plump pianos and a smooth, not-too-fast house-shuffle beat to nirvana. almost makes you wonder what could have been had bobby been gay, and smitten with frankie knuckles rather than teddy riley.
6. “new forms,” roni size/reprazent featuring bahamadia. roni size burst forth into the pop consciousness (in the u.k. at least) by harnessing drum’n’bass to pop – well, forms – much the same way fatboy slim and the chems did with their big beat mutants. it didn’t hurt that he had the good taste and sense to bring guests such as the ever-underrated rapstress bahamadia along on the trip. and that he used a stand-up bass, yum.
7. “whip appeal (unplugged),” babyface. here's your first lesson in quiet storm 101. luther:’80s::’face:’90s.
8. “freak me baby (bass club remix),” dis-n-dat. they’ll freak you down like a three-piece chicken dinner, whatever that means. dutty south music for bass freaks, cheap ‘n nasty ‘n stoopid.
9. “I don’t want to lose your love,” b angie b. mc hammer sure did like his proteges to have moronic names, or maybe it was the times. no, it was hammer. he did have quite a find in this former backup singer, however, blessed with the lungs of a foghorn and a nice figure. and this one (and only one) thumping song.
side a
1. “kairo,” spacetime continuum. one of my favorites from the college radio days, a swirling, techno epic, like underworld crossed with orbital minus the shouty vocals. fulfilled all the promise of what electronic music was supposed to be circa ‘96, especially to someone who didn’t necessarily know all the genres and subgenres, just what sounded amazing and new.
2. “solid,” ashford & simpson. an r-and-b classic from ’84, and their only big pop crossover. I found the 45 of this over a decade ago, and have clung to it fiercely ever since. “solid”’s a positive paean to the power of love, sung by two people who should know.
3. “it’s a party (allstar remix),” busta rhymes featuring swv. maybe busta’s biggest lost banger, the song destined to be forgotten, as it was the followup to “woo-hah!! got you all in check.” remember when allstar was the remixer du jour? some damned good work he did, rearranging and reconstructing some of the biggest hiphop and r-and-b hits; here he replaced zhané with the much more ghetto-fab s-dub and reworked “party” into a jeru the damaja gone pop piece, wave after sound wave of good vibes.
4. “motörhead,” primal scream. you’d be surprised what a good, refreshing segue this is. the scream covers motorhead with great aplomb, like souped-up electrodes have been attached all over lemmy’s body, creating in the process a frankenstein, half-jourgensen, half-weatherall. a precursor to, but barely a warning of, the mind-bending sonics which were to come on xtrmntr and evil heat.
5. “sky’s the limit,” the notorious b.i.g. featuring 112. biggie discovers beautifulness, reminiscing like the little river band over a loping beat, letting 112 break in to croon all over the chorus.
6. “watcha gonna do with my lovin’ (def radio mix),” inner city. there’s classic house, and there’s inner city, who married the template of chicago house to 4-minute pop songcraft not with shotguns, but with looooooove. where a singer such as sade is often all underbelly, dark corners and pathos, lead singer paris is the polar opposite: she couldn’t sound down if she tried; her voice is up up up like a noseful of colombia’s finest.
7. “friends and strangers (the l.g. experience remix),” ronnie laws. one of the best albums you’ve never heard is the blue note remix project, vol. 1, in which mostly underground hiphop producers of ’95 took on some blue note classics from the vaults. the unquestionable highlight is this subtle, classy take on ronnie laws’ ‘70s proto-smooth jazz quiet growler, with the l.g. experience adding perfectly-matched hiphop beats whilst never overwhelming the center, laws’ sax. like an anachronistic fever dream had while dozing on a couch in between two radio stations, both fine and raw like silk.
8. “can’t wait,” redman. ah, the early ‘90s, when so much nyc rap production was hazed through a curtain of blue smoke and thick, airy keybs. and redman was more well-known for his nimble lips than his deodorant commercials. best bit: when he repeats himself in wonderment, and then points out, “I be sayin’ some shit.”
side b
1. “don’t blow a good thing,” vesta. yet another devastating killer inexplicably left off my top 80, from the woman born vesta williams, a journeywoman of r-and-b. given better material, who knows? she might’ve been the queen slotted betwixt aretha and mary j. as it was, she kind of shuffled her way through the ‘80s from label to label, song to song, nailing it like few had with this one, sparkling diamond of a track, all sinuous larry graham bassline and bellowing vox.
2. “funny how time flies (little kim mix),” intro. they were just one of a myriad of faceless mid-‘90s r-and-b male vocal groups, never anything more. she was the bonnie to biggie’s clyde, just breaking into the biz (note the designation: “little kim”). but when they teamed up on this heroin’d-out remix (all slow and slurring), kim came correct, flippin’ rhymes like “niggas bustin’ like a bitch’s hymen.” she said hymen?! muthafuckin’ right she did, just starting to show us why she was known even back then as the queen b(itch).
3. “shinjiro,” dj honda featuring mos def. ace asian hiphop construction topped by the multinational man of words, mos def.
4. “war,” bruce springsteen and the e street band. bruce and company’s live take on the edwin starr classic made it their own. the boss’ spoken intro made it stunning.
5. “two can play that game (k-klassic radio mix),” bobby brown. better than their blondie remix on it's alright 4, k-klass set upon a revitalization process of bobby’s near-misses in the u.k. circa ’94, dictated assuredly by a record company, but lifted by plump pianos and a smooth, not-too-fast house-shuffle beat to nirvana. almost makes you wonder what could have been had bobby been gay, and smitten with frankie knuckles rather than teddy riley.
6. “new forms,” roni size/reprazent featuring bahamadia. roni size burst forth into the pop consciousness (in the u.k. at least) by harnessing drum’n’bass to pop – well, forms – much the same way fatboy slim and the chems did with their big beat mutants. it didn’t hurt that he had the good taste and sense to bring guests such as the ever-underrated rapstress bahamadia along on the trip. and that he used a stand-up bass, yum.
7. “whip appeal (unplugged),” babyface. here's your first lesson in quiet storm 101. luther:’80s::’face:’90s.
8. “freak me baby (bass club remix),” dis-n-dat. they’ll freak you down like a three-piece chicken dinner, whatever that means. dutty south music for bass freaks, cheap ‘n nasty ‘n stoopid.
9. “I don’t want to lose your love,” b angie b. mc hammer sure did like his proteges to have moronic names, or maybe it was the times. no, it was hammer. he did have quite a find in this former backup singer, however, blessed with the lungs of a foghorn and a nice figure. and this one (and only one) thumping song.
# posted by Thomas : 2:48 PM
