Susumu Yokota (1960–2015) was a Japanese electronic musician, DJ, and composer whose work moved between club music and more contemplative ambient sounds. On the club side, he emerged in the early 1990s with acid house and techno bangers like this monster 17-minute EP. Sometimes under aliases such as Frankfurt Tokyo Connection, Ebi, and Stevia, or here as Tenshin with his friend Makoto. Behind the big slugging beats and frantic Noirish stabs of cheap synths you can already hear the shifting, building, cascading, looping, Musique concrete of Yokota's more mature ambient music. Hypnotic big beat acid house right there when raves and EDM were blowing up for the first time. Not that I was there but I can hear the energy; experimental dance music energy. Rocking out, getting down, etc, universal musical languages.
How does it feel to be on your own? Sifting through the rubble, bringing up the dead, reassembling history from below.
"Supersonic," JJ Fad (1988)
Sometimes I think Dr. Dre is The Chronic (1992), and his G-Funk was always leaning too much on the P-Funk, so to speak. But here is some of his production work from 1988, J.J. Fad's "Supersonic," an old school Boom bap girl group sound produced to perfection; reached 22 on the Hot R&B/Hip-Hop chart. Duly noted in collaboration with Dj Yella and the Arabian Prince but, at any rate, it is Dre with a crafty minimalist model of early '80s rap and NOT The Chronic. The J.J. Fad trio look underage but they show up later in the video as older ladies, appearing proud of the legacy of their song, "Supersonic," as they should be. They still perform too or did on the internet as middle age looking ladies, a girl group trio having fun on stage at a karaoke bar. I'd just arrived in Seattle in 1988 and I at first thought J.J. Fad were from Seattle and this was a promotional number for the local NBA team the Seattle SuperSonics, which I thought was the coolest thing ever. I could swear the song was used in Sonic promotions around that time but I can't find any evidence for that on the internet. At any rate, the hiphop-ya-don't-stop gleeful nonsense purity of "Supersonic" bubbles over with the vitality of "Rapper's Delight" and all the best rapping in the early 1980s; heretofore to be known as Hip Hop or rap before RunDMC or RBRD. Sugar Hill, Tommy Boy, Enjoy! Turning out the disco on the block, plug and play, turntables, sampling, drum machines, the rhyming is bold, seductive, full of braggadocio and swagger and often very funny. Turns out J.J. Fad were really from LA and "Supersonic" an early Dr. Dre production masterpiece, if late to the RBRD party and still refining the retrosheen that would become his bread and butter. "Supersonic" is a Hip Hop classic, anyway you slice it. J.J. Fad, MC J.B. (Juana), Baby-D (Dania), and Sassy C (Michelle), on the mic, 1988. Party in the House. Meanwhile, the SuperSonics, Bernie Bickerstaff's version of the '88 Sonics, finished 3rd in the Pacific Division that year and traded away Scottie Pippen for Olden Polynice in the draft. We need those Secret Base Dorktown guys to do one of their historical docs on the Seattle SuperSonics. Even so JJ Fad's "Supersonics" were a positive force vibe with that Supersonic team in '88, X-Man, Michael Cage, Dale Ellis, Nate McMillan, Derrick McKey, Avery Johnson, so much potential on that team! Not to be. But there will always be JJ Fad's "Supersonic."
"Soul Flower," The Pharcyde (1992)
Overlooked. Indomitable party jam from 1992. Now is the time of year to try it on.
Pharcyde a west coast branch of the De La Soul/A Tribe Called Quest school of Native Tongue golden age hiphop. That's my golden age, anyway, Run-D.M.C. to Pharcyde, 1984ish to 1992ish. I've always felt like The Chronic in '92 changed everything, not for the better. It set the blinged out gangster stage that ended in the violent deaths of Biggie and Tupac Shakur. I kept up with and liked the G-funk singles but something felt lost in the imperial chart busting warlord melodrama of the hiphop world after '92. But much bigger authorities than I consider, by contrast, the whole 1990s the real golden age of hip hop, and the second half even better than the first half.
I'm not ready to draw that conclusion yet but admit one reason I can't is because I wasn't listening to as much hiphop after 1992. Why? I got married. Playing blustering raps about "niggas" and "bitches" when hanging out with the wife didn't work. I tried a few times on car trips. The Wu-Tang Clan was too much cursing.
So I'm still learning about a huge explosion in local underground hip hop after the Chronic that goes way beyond what I knew. Just in Seattle. Vitamin D. Tribal Productions. 14 Fathoms Deep. Do The Math (1996). I'm sure the herb helps but the laidback grooves, the warped late night soul classics vibe, the cut-up funk of the serious hiphop DJ head, works for me. I dig, as we used to say.
Anyway, back to the topic at hand, bumped into Bizarre Ride II the Pharcyde again recently. It is Daisy Age hiphop gold and not to be missed by fans of the genre. Pharcyde keep that funky group music making thang going; Sly and George Clinton proud godfathers. And there's more than "Soul Flower" on the album: "Officer," "Ya Mama," "Passing Me By," "I'm That Type of Nigga" (which I usually don't go for, as I've already established, but they are so funny and on the nose).
Here's a version with The Brand New Heavies featuring The Pharcyde from the same year, '92, but maybe came out before Bizarre Ride II the Pharcyde:
Herbie Hancock Group Funks It Up On Danish TV, 1976:
I'm no expert on solo projects related to Miles Davis' electric period; I've heard albums by Weather Report Mahavishnu Orchestra, Keith Jarrett, Wayne Shorter, Tony Williams, Chick Korea, and Herbie Hancock but not even close to all of them. And what I've heard has their charms but most strikingly they always seem to back up my sense of how wildly out there and singularly awesome were those Miles electric records. None of the members of his electric albums on their own ever sound very much like any of those Miles records to me. If anything comes close it'd be some space rock patches on Herbie Hancock's Sextant (1973) or Thrust (1974), everything else by Hancock is way too pop funky for the dark heavy space rock explorations of Bitches Brew or Live Evil, etc. (BTW, where does that space rock sound on the electric Miles come from, anyway? Drugs maybe play a part but I think it's at least in part Miles' infatuation with Stockhausen inspired bleeping and atmospheric goofing on the keyboards.) Anyway, this longish Hancock live set appeared on Danish TV in 1976. It goes with the long instrumental passages in early Earth Wind & Fire or the Crusaders more than any Miles. But I'm still stanning for groove music like this, as its own reward, no lesser step child to free jazz or pop music with words; if, in this particular comparison, not as beloved to me as Miles' electric albums. Nonetheless, Hancock's jazz-funk is its own thing and I like it just fine. Sure, there are some smooth jazzercising genteel affectations to Herbie-- you ought to see him later in his tinted glasses and neck scarves (Jackie Chiles on Seinfeld, right?)-- but he charts in the classic funk period ("Chameleon," '74) and the early hiphop era ("Rockit," '83) and, again, in the acid jazz phase of the EDM explosion in England in the early '90s ("Cantaloop (Flip Fantasia)"); that's three decades on the dance music charts. Feel the groove.
PJ Harvey: Big Complex Female Voice in a Slight Rock Star Package
Let's begin with "Joe," a Demo from 1992's Dry recordings. The vocal performance, so uncannily assured and unselfconscious, is one thing. Then the duet setting of her effortless vocal heaviness against the abstracted slabs of industrial grunge guitar gives the song demo a post-punk conceptual feel. She's a little package but a powerhouse voice and personality. And I'm not just trying to objectify her with that contrast. It seems integral to her power. Like Iggy Pop's "Five Foot One," the power in her voice taunts those that might underestimate her diminutive frame.
Dinosaur riff rock gets stomped on and dominated by Ms. Harvey in one of her perhaps underrated periods. It's a boss performance in England in 1998 circa her album Is This Desire?
"The Whores Hustle and the Hustlers Whore," from 2000's Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea, my running favorite Harvey album but I need to give some others more attention-Anyway, this number is an absolute rock & roll hall of fame grand salami of a rock single but, I just checked, it didn't chart and she's actually another one not in the official R&R Hall in Cleveland. (More of what's wrong with people and the authorities, I'm telling you!) Harvey doesn't have any big hits but her albums chart okay, a couple top tens. And her audience, or cult, if you prefer, is a sizable alt-rock audience and surely big enough for the Hall's consideration?! Maybe they're still trying to catch up with the '90s? I know how that goes but PJ Harvey is a historic rock star original and past due for serious consideration for recognition by Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.
Also, by 2000's Stories..., note how in the song "Good Fortune" she's still doing her Smithian vocal stylings, my first critical hesitation with her music back in '92/'93, but now she's tossing this stuff off like she's dancing in the streets, like it ain't no thing. Or it's just another kind of art song style she does, no sweat. Patti gives Bruce "Because The Night." PJ gives a confident nod to Patti while maybe throwing in some Stevie Nicks for good measure. Masterful mistress of the late rock era.
More evidence: "When I'm On Ether," from 2007's White Chalk. If not psychedelic, a drug song masterpiece.
Don't have time to get into it too much but I think Harvey is a tremendously rich source of evidence for the rockist argument. I.e., rock is essentially pop with an oppositional, iconoclastic, counter cultural, and/or anti-commercial streak built in. Its authenticity isn't rooted so much in class as in personality; its "wokeness" is a reflexive antagonism to straight authority. It's "alternative," by definition and in principle. Harvey's art insists on her individual identity while at the same time making use of various musical legacies and traditions. Progressive art song and heavy blues rock, for two. And she's part of a long line, if small club, of shamanistic rock stars with big vocal diva prowess.
For heaven's sake, PJ Harvey belongs in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame if ever there was or is such a thing?! Not that I have any idea whether or not she would appreciate the honor or even care. Hall of Fames are bs but if you're going to do bs why not show some judgement and try to make your bs count?