http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lRlmM88zzbY
I recently posted about Nujabes' Thank You, which also samples John Dankworth: here, it's much more obvious. I'm more taken aback by the different contexts and how they change the sample. The former makes it sound very jazzy, smooth and laid-back; the processing on the latter makes it sound more funky and up-beat.
I have lots to say about Gorillaz — the popularization of sample-based music, brilliant lyrics and a subtle multimedia experience which never quite came to fruition; a race-blind hip-hop; the combination of what seems like kids' animation with adult content; and, in particular, the role of the band Blur. I think I just said most of it, though, so... yeah. Enjoy this weird, weird video.
Showing posts with label nujabes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nujabes. Show all posts
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Thank You (feat. Apani B.) — Nujabes
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xnba1fKRNZo
I've written about Nujabes in other articles, but never about him directly — he has a distinctive sound, but he doesn't write his lyrics and he doesn't write the instrumentals — he samples. As such, he is a curator; it's easy to attribute the music to him, but it's much easier to look at the individual artist (incidentally, Apani B., who I've never heard of before, absolutely kills it here), and his samples of Gypsy Queen — Part Two and Modesty Blaise (which I guarantee you know), while brilliant for their selection, are nearly unedited; how much credit can I really give him? I love his output, I love the music he puts out, but it's... is it creation? Apani B. wrote the lyrics, which are what I listen to with intention; the instrumentals are large bands full of people, written and arranged and produced by someone else uncredited; what did Nujabes do? Not to say I could do it, but... what work of his can I talk about?
But I do love his choices — his choice of vocalist, his choice of sample — and that's enough, I think. Everything about the creative process is choices. If I praise another artist, it's for their choices — in lyric, instrumentation, all the same. He's just a content aggregator, a modern musician. Perhaps undeserving of the same claims to talent, but certainly not to fame.
I've written about Nujabes in other articles, but never about him directly — he has a distinctive sound, but he doesn't write his lyrics and he doesn't write the instrumentals — he samples. As such, he is a curator; it's easy to attribute the music to him, but it's much easier to look at the individual artist (incidentally, Apani B., who I've never heard of before, absolutely kills it here), and his samples of Gypsy Queen — Part Two and Modesty Blaise (which I guarantee you know), while brilliant for their selection, are nearly unedited; how much credit can I really give him? I love his output, I love the music he puts out, but it's... is it creation? Apani B. wrote the lyrics, which are what I listen to with intention; the instrumentals are large bands full of people, written and arranged and produced by someone else uncredited; what did Nujabes do? Not to say I could do it, but... what work of his can I talk about?
But I do love his choices — his choice of vocalist, his choice of sample — and that's enough, I think. Everything about the creative process is choices. If I praise another artist, it's for their choices — in lyric, instrumentation, all the same. He's just a content aggregator, a modern musician. Perhaps undeserving of the same claims to talent, but certainly not to fame.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
The Lamp Is Low — Morris Nanton
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fFfl_PVXD30
Jazz is an echo chamber. Come here and be alone with your thoughts; get them moving, get them changing, pick up another idea or two. Settle in and listen and ponder; get up and dance; change and change and change.
The Lamp Is Low is from the 1930s; apparently there are lyrics? It came to me ass-backwards; through Nujabes's sample of the Laurindo Almeida rendition, but the above 1967 rendition is the one that tickles me the best. Explore on WhoSampled; do research; trace your own path backwards in time through the history of this Jazz standard. Listen for it in old movies; let it pop into your head during tests; lose yourself in its tone and rhythm. This is what music is for.
Jazz is an echo chamber. Come here and be alone with your thoughts; get them moving, get them changing, pick up another idea or two. Settle in and listen and ponder; get up and dance; change and change and change.
The Lamp Is Low is from the 1930s; apparently there are lyrics? It came to me ass-backwards; through Nujabes's sample of the Laurindo Almeida rendition, but the above 1967 rendition is the one that tickles me the best. Explore on WhoSampled; do research; trace your own path backwards in time through the history of this Jazz standard. Listen for it in old movies; let it pop into your head during tests; lose yourself in its tone and rhythm. This is what music is for.
Friday, March 8, 2013
Sunrise — Shingo Suzuki
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0TZy0rBSscA
Perspective — and I write this actively procrastinating a tricky CS125 assignment — is essential. This is why we celebrate, why we talk about our lives to other people, why we escape into fiction.
All music is an international community, whether or not any particular genre likes to admit it. Hip-hop and rap are based especially upon braggadocio, which is unstable in a large perspective. Thus, world music is a distinct genre; international jazz and classical and even rock and pop are normal. But international hip-hop — hip-hop that admits there is a world outside the neighborhood in which it is made — is rare and often phenomenal. Nujabes gets his appeal from being multicultural, a Japanese dude who recorded with American rappers. French hip-hop, like the Shingo song above, serves the same purpose.
Perspective — and I write this actively procrastinating a tricky CS125 assignment — is essential. This is why we celebrate, why we talk about our lives to other people, why we escape into fiction.
All music is an international community, whether or not any particular genre likes to admit it. Hip-hop and rap are based especially upon braggadocio, which is unstable in a large perspective. Thus, world music is a distinct genre; international jazz and classical and even rock and pop are normal. But international hip-hop — hip-hop that admits there is a world outside the neighborhood in which it is made — is rare and often phenomenal. Nujabes gets his appeal from being multicultural, a Japanese dude who recorded with American rappers. French hip-hop, like the Shingo song above, serves the same purpose.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Seville — Luiz Bonfá
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VAny1bIApcA
Sampling is an essential part of music, but it's often frustrating. There's a little twinge of rage in discovering, years later, that a song which you loved for a particular riff and whose artist you gave credit for its genius was sampling the riff from another, older artist — as if we gave credit to someone for imitating Shakespeare, but forgot about Shakespeare entirely.
Gotye's Somebody That I Used To Know is a great example. Luiz Bonfá's Seville (above) is the original, a brilliant 1960s instrumental from the Brazilian jazz/folk scene. Am I mad? Yeah, a little. But I also firmly believe that sampling is an integral part of music — modern and not. So I have some cognitive dissonance on the matter.
Luiz Bonfá's The Shade Of The Mango Tree was also sampled for Nujabes' Lady Brown — but I'm less mad, as Nujabes made a career off of sampling wonderful jazz and adding beats and guest rappers. Still, I wish more of the music I knew came with citations.
Sampling is an essential part of music, but it's often frustrating. There's a little twinge of rage in discovering, years later, that a song which you loved for a particular riff and whose artist you gave credit for its genius was sampling the riff from another, older artist — as if we gave credit to someone for imitating Shakespeare, but forgot about Shakespeare entirely.
Gotye's Somebody That I Used To Know is a great example. Luiz Bonfá's Seville (above) is the original, a brilliant 1960s instrumental from the Brazilian jazz/folk scene. Am I mad? Yeah, a little. But I also firmly believe that sampling is an integral part of music — modern and not. So I have some cognitive dissonance on the matter.
Luiz Bonfá's The Shade Of The Mango Tree was also sampled for Nujabes' Lady Brown — but I'm less mad, as Nujabes made a career off of sampling wonderful jazz and adding beats and guest rappers. Still, I wish more of the music I knew came with citations.
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