Nu-Jazz: A Microcosmogrammatical Examination

If you're not familiar with the microgenre of nu-jazz, please allow me to explain: Imagine an alternate planetary system somewhere way out in the cosmic unknown. Let's say that at the center of this system is a sun, and this sun happens to be called Jazz. Like all suns, Jazz has a gravitational pull that causes other celestial objects to orbit around it. Now, envision Nu-Jazz on the very outskirts of Jazz’s pull—the Pluto of this musical solar system, as it were. Fittingly enough, some might argue that Nu-Jazz isn't even part is this solar system, and these folks have a valid case. After all, even though Nu-Jazz is still within Jazz’s field, it wobbles on its axis in a most peculiar way and revolves ever so off-kilter, threatening to hurdle off into space at any moment—perhaps to the neighboring Hip Hop galaxy or maybe to the Electronic sector or perchance to the Funk nebula. It may be grounded in the tenets of traditional jazz—what with its jittering syncopations and intricate polyrhythms—but the ancestry of nu-jazz ultimately sums to a sound wholly unique from its parts.

Now, please follow me back to Earth and join me in Winnetka, California. A small town outside of Los Angeles, Winnetka is to nu-jazz as Columbia, SC, is to chillwave and Manchester was to post-punk in the late ‘70s; that is, it is the birthplace, the evolutionary nexus, and for all intents and purposes, the headquarters of the genre. Specifically, the HQ is located at Brainfeeder Records, the label started by nu-jazz giant Steven Ellison, the man behind the Flying Lotus moniker. A nu-jazz all-star lineup, Brainfeeder is also home to fellow genre bigwigs Daedelus, Samiyam, and The Gaslamp Killer. I’m not sure one abstruse, name-dropping example will help clarify another, but it might help to think of Brainfeeder as the nu-jazz equivalent of witch house’s Disaro Records, which lays claim to oOoOO, White Ring, and host of other esoterically renowned musicians…

On second thought, like the often abrupt harmonic shifts in nu-jazz music, allow me to abandon my admittedly futile attempts at explaining music through obscure analogy and convoluted imagery, and let’s let the music do the explaining—specifically Flying Lotus’s magnum opus, Cosmogramma. Sure, the LP came out this past May, but if there was ever such a thing as an instant classic, this is it. A surprisingly tightly conceived concept album, the record builds in warm, ethereal, yet altogether epileptic samples that let the listener know that he’s in nu-jazz’s nerve center, as it were. This pre-liftoff procedure continues until track six, “Computer Face/Pure Being,” where FlyLo introduces the first out-and-out melody in the form of a massive synth line, and the engines start revving.

Then, Flying Lotus at ground control sends Major Thom Yorke to outer space on “…And the World Laughs with You.” And it is here, I’d say, where Ellison’s true genius is exhibited: instead of putting Yorke’s vocals front and center in the mix, he opts to utilize the Brit’s wavering wail as an instrument. This is ballsy. After landing perhaps the biggest and most respected name in modern music in the Radiohead frontman, Steven Ellison buries Yorke’s voice beneath a load of reverb and dizzying synthesizers and even chops it up—just to feed it back to us in sampled splices.

These moments of genius are by no means scarce events, mind you; rather, they’re hidden and are only revealed through repeat listens. For example, in the sensual “MmmHmm,” you’d have yourself a radio-worthy R&B hook and melody if the frantic bass line and overdriven percussion were silenced. Then, in “Do the Astral Plane,” FlyLo plays with the listener at 3:32, dropping out the Kanye-esque lilting strings and club-ready electro synths so that only the claps remain. It is here, in the negative space, that the listener realizes how much controlled chaos Flying Lotus is managing at one time.

And when we get to “Table Tennis,” we find nu-jazz’s answer to Enrique Iglesias’s “Do You Know.” But unlike its pop counterpart, the intervallically irregular ping-pong in “Table Tennis” is in no way danceable or immediately poppy; instead, it brings us full circle. That is, “Table Tennis”—perhaps the anthem of the nu-jazz microgenre—features guest vocalist Laura Darlington singing of gravity and motion and energy and elasticity, reminding us of the abstract lineage of this music. In a way, this penultimate song of Cosmogramma brings us back to a certain aural Great Unknown. We once again find ourselves traveling through the acoustic cosmos, steadily learning the arcane musical grammar of nu-jazz with each listen with Flying Lotus as our guide.

Do the Astral Plane [alt]

MmmHmm (ft. Thundercat) [alt]

Table Tennis (ft. Laura Darlington) [alt]

What the game's been missing

I was having a conversation with an old friend of Muzjiks, the Color Commentator, about how unbelievable it is that Lil Wayne was able to do what he did with The Carter III. Despite the pirating of the internet leak, the general migration away from physical formats toward digital, the proliferation of music blogs that provide easy access to mp3s for even the most computer illiterate, and all the other socioeconomic factors contributing to the death of the CD, Mr. Dwayne Michael Carter Jr. sold one million copies in the first week. That's simply unheard of nowadays. Could you imagine if—all other things being equal in terms of public music taste—Weezy dropped C3 in the '90s? There's no doubt in my mind that we'd be talking about it in the same context as Thriller and Dark Side of the Moon in terms of album sales.

Even so, like any album with that kind of sales success, C3 was timely, full of genius singles, but ultimately just a downright solid album from start to finish. Case and point: play just about any song off of that release at a party—even non-singles like "3 Peat," "Phone Home," or "Let the Beat Build"—and I promise you that over 95% of people will know the lyrics. That's why you don't see artists like Soulja Boy or Jay Sean selling records like Wayne. Sure, they'll go platinum, but they won't reach the stratospheric heights that Wayne did because, when it comes down to it, the collective ears of the public still want an album.

Another illustrative example: If you had a pulse in 2004, you knew J-Kwon's "Tipsy." The song was massive—you'd hear it four times just flipping through radio stations on any given car ride. Now, just for shits and giggles, check out this tracklist to the album on which "Tipsy" appeared. I dare you to tell me truthfully that you've heard of any other song on there. Although J-Kwon has been relegated to the mashup treatment and one-hit-wonder status, in the summer of 2004, he was it. No one bigger in the music biz than this fake ID-toting rapper who experienced a meteoric rise to fame. How many albums did he sell, you ask? 1.6 million to date.

Arguably the crowning achievement of C3 is the unrelenting "A Milli." It's gotten remixed after mashuped after freestyled over the past two years, but few ever recapture the song's original charm. However, with the virtuosic Flying Lotus on the boards, a helium-saturated Weezy is introduced to a fumbling beat that's kept from collapsing on itself by spitfire rhymes alone. You almost think that if Wayne stops rapping, somehow the whole track will devolve into cacophony. And the best part? The masterful FlyLo tests it out, dissolving the beat entirely at the 1:31 mark. The listener wonders whether the Best Rapper Alive has failed, whether he was unable to keep all the instrumental plates spinning, but then, at 1:43, he cobbles the beat back together with a triumphant "You ain't got shit." Did you really think Dr. Carter was going to lose a patient?

Lil Wayne: A Milli (Flying Lotus Remix) [alt]

Live in Cosmogramma

In the time I have spent not writing, my ears have taken me in many directions--many of them being diametrically opposed. This is one of those times. With my discovery, and more importantly exploration, of the Flying Lotus' music, I thought more and more of the lasting effect of John Coltrane and his music. If you weren't aware, Steven Ellison (FL) is the great nephew of John and Alice Coltrane and is part of the huge family of Coltrane music. Here are the two ends of the Coltrane sonic spectrum--the harsh, polyphonic textures of Flying Lotus and the Miles Davis-cum Revolver era Beatles music of Alice Coltrane. Have a bit of patience with these.

Flying Lotus: "Table Tennis" (feat. Laura Darlington) [Buy]

Alice Coltrane: "Something About John Coltrane"

dw|tb

Grimy, Filthy Dubstep

Picture completely unrelated.

If you're not already familiar with dubstep, you're missing out. A genre characterized by nasty basslines, crunchy synths, and neck-breaking head nod grooves, there's not a style of music better for testing out that new subwoofer. Perhaps what makes this genre so exciting, however, are the many variants that exist under the "dubstep" umbrella—from the desolate, alleyway house take of Burial to the drugged-out, hip hop fusion slant of Flying Lotus to club banger-meets-slaughterhouse floor style of Joker. Although it's impossible to cover all the bases, I'll try to offer a cross-section of what's out there in the world of dubstep...

Emalkay: When I Look at You [alt]
I don't know about you, but I'm a sucker for drops. There's something carnal about that synth swell that explodes into a clusterfuck of bass and melody. If that description fits you too, then you're in for a treat. Hang in there for about a minute, and then prepare for your speakers to turn inside out.

Joker: Psychedelic Runway [alt]
An example of dubstep with a more distinct groove to it, this is what a UK drug kingpin might roll around town listening to. A little trippy, a lot gangsta, and criminally grimy.

Plan B: She Said (16Bit Remix) [alt]
A sort of sister genre to dubstep is grime, a UK take on hip hop that incorporates dubstep-esque beats with spitfire English emceeing. Here, 16Bit remixes rapper Plan B's "She Said" and takes it to whole other level of intensity.

Hyetal: Pixel Rainbow Sequence [alt]
Incorporating 8-bit samples from the original Donkey Kong and other nostalgic video game favorites, Hyetal offers another dubstep track with a sick buildup and release within the first minute of play. More laid back and less in-your-face than some other dubstep offerings, "Pixel Rainbow Sequence" is nevertheless super nod-worthy.

Flying Lotus: Massage Situation [alt]
Another more laid back track, "Massage Situation" features a soulful female vocal sample over a groove that builds, deconstructs, and rebuilds again. Although considerably less lysergic than, say, FlyLo's 2010 Cosmogramma, this song is nothing to scoff at.

Burial: Archangel [alt]
A dubstep primer would simply be incomplete without a sampling from Burial. Don't expect this to be part of your next party playlist. William Bevan, the man behind Burial, creates haunting soundscapes that are probably the club bangers of the underworld. As a brief aside, I must say that Burial holds a special place in my heart for the sole reason that his music was played as roadies set up Radiohead's equipment before I saw them in 2008. Burial's music is now forever synonymous with anticipation and happiness as the musical interlude to what would become the best night of my life beginning at 8:47 PM when Thom, Jonny, Ed, Colin, and Phil took the stage at Verizon Amphitheater in Charlotte, NC.