Generally, with mashups I try and maintain an upbeat and fun vibe. Loud, bombastic, and heavy. I live for the aptly named “Oh Shit Moment”, where people go cross-eyed, throw up all over themselves, and then go right back to partying. Aesthetically, my pursuit of this funky, heavy groove affects my sample choices and overall sound in a way that I don’t really want to go into, for fear that I may ruin it.

The part I will talk about, though, is recognizability. When I am listening to other people’s mashups, there is nothing like that feeling of identifying a sample, recognizing that it is in a completely new context, and liking it better that way. That feeling alone is one of the big reasons I wanted to try my hand at this mashup thing. With that in mind, I’ve noticed that I have a certain way I tend to organize what samples I choose. It’s not set in stone, but essentially, there are three types of sounds that make up the finished product.

1. Vocals: Because of a large remix community, the vast majority of vocal samples are from rap, R&B, and pop songs. As such, they tend to be the easiest element in a mashup to recognize. Even if the listener doesn’t know the exact song, many are savvy enough to recognize the artist, or at the very least, simply recognize the genre. Depending on what’s sitting under it, that can often be enough.
2. Music: This is just really broad way of identifying non-vocal, melodic content. It can be anything from a single instrument, to a full band. In terms of recognizability, this is a close second. I generally pull samples that are a little more niche, while making sure it’s something that I could reasonably expect someone to identify. I try and only pair a pop vocal with pop music if the styles are totally divergent. Or, you know, if it just sounds rad.
3. Rhythm: That beat, son. These are almost never identifiable, unless it’s something super popular like “When The Levee Breaks” or “Empire State of Mind”. Keeping that in mind, I’m free to pull rhythm stuff from whatever I want, no matter it’s obscurity. I’m also free to completely chop and change up a beat, often reducing it to individual hits and completely re-sequencing it.

That’s it. Those are the basic building blocks. A section of any given mashup is usually built from at least one of each of these elements. Next comes arranging these pieces into something that resembles a song.

Instead of basing arrangements around a traditional song structure (verse, chorus, bridge), I instead think of my mashups as a progression through different sets of vocal, music, and rhythm, like little mini-songs, moving quickly from one to the next. Doing arrangements like this gives the the whole track keeps the listener on their toes, and also gives the tracks a more diverse overall sound.

The problem is, if done wrong, these sudden transitions can sound jarring. Recently, I’ve been trying to fix this by keeping some part of a previous section going into the next, such as repurposing the previous rhythm part for a new context, or keeping a rap verse going while the music around it changes. I’m finding that implementing these transitions keeps the arrangement flowing a little smoother, and leaves the track sounding like a more unified whole, while still maintaining that frenetic pace that I like so much.

That’s it! This is how my process currently stands, but it will almost certainly change as I work on more and more things of this nature. Speaking of which, I am currently working on new WTA JRK stuff! The plan is that the end result will be a single 10-15 minute track, called The Worst Tape, By The Dumbest Guy. Wish me luck. If you want, you can download, for free, my two previous mashup releases at http://www.wtajrk.com/.

One thing I realized early on is that success is not a singular, concrete idea. It is a multifaceted, evolving set of ideas. For example, I can define artistic success and professional success on entirely different terms. Artistic success would be completing a work that I can be proud of, while professional success would be selling that work past a certain threshold.

To define it even further than that, I also hold short-term and long-term ideas of success. I have a lot of short-term goals. I want to see a significant increase in record sales from one release to the next. I want to see our website traffic to keep rising steadily. I want to see an active, established community of fans.

These short-term goals are nice, but they are ultimately in service of the larger idea of long-term success, something I also have a fairly clear picture of. I want to do this for a living. Or, in other terms, I want to be able support myself entirely based on what I create. When someone asks, “What do you do?”, I want to be able to say that I’m a musician without feeling like a liar. That is my end game.

Of course, once all of these goals are reached, and all of these metrics of success are passed, I can’t sit back and say, “I’ve done it!” There will always be new goals and metrics, and success will be redefined again and again.

So, was the release of our new records a success? Certainly. We think we’ve made our best albums yet, and the fans seem to agree. This has been, by far, our most successful release to date, despite being the first “real” records we’ve charged for. But is Starship Amazing, as an entity, successful?

Not yet. But we’re getting there.

The fresh coat of digital paint you see is indicative of a much deeper change, however. Formerly, this site was a place where I wrote about various topics that interested me within the realm of music. The problem was I didn’t update it that much, and for that I apologize.

So, in the interest of semi-regular, quality updating, I am expanding the site’s purview to include not just music, but whatever the hell I feel like writing about. Don’t worry, music is still a big part of who I am, so I will continue to deal with the subject in earnest; There’s just going to be a lot of other stuff in between. You will find a new update below, and expect more sometime soon!

ALSO! I’ve gone back and cleaned up all of the older posts, fixed spelling errors, rewriting minor sections, and updating out of date links.

So basically, this is now just another self-serving, egotistical blog that no one reads, thus making this entire post worthless. AWESOME.

In most modern rap records, the number of producers on the album will often mirror the number of tracks. That’s why it’s so refreshing to hear Never Better’s rock solid, consistent production. Over half the tracks are produced by P.O.S. himself, and the rest are all produced by his affiliates at Doomtree.

Here, we see real thought to dynamics and melody, while still maintaining hip-hop’s rhythmic core, with just a bit of P.O.S.’ punk rock background manifesting to make it interesting. All of the tracks stand as independent, beautiful productions, more focused on good songwriting than a catchy hook. P.O.S. rejects superficial sheen in favor of honest-to-god to beauty, and “Purexed” is the textbook definition of such a practice.

We see the same level of thought and care put into Never Better’s lyrical content. Each line is expertly crafted, while still sounding natural and effortless upon delivery. On the surface, we see a catchy, precise flow encasing clever lyricism that doesn’t rely on puns (“Correct, the best shoes, the worst steps”). Dig deeper, we see larger thoughts and ideas at play (“In a world where the world ends at the end of your block, And them little whirlwinds spin friction ’round the clock”). All of this and more stated with an undeniable confidence and honesty.

To me, this record, more than anything, represents how hip-hop should sound in it’s modern form. Free from gimmicks or trends, this is pure creative genius released in the form of rhythm and lyric. It doesn’t use slick production or studio tricks to sound futuristic, it instead opts for pure, unfiltered humanity. And in that, it is entirely modern.

Thus begins “Now You Are One of Us”, the fourth full-length album by the Paper Chase, and my personal favorite. It’s all the jagged glory of the band’s sound, perfectly encapsulated and executed by it’s main orchestrator, John Congleton. His mind has always been at the forefront, as their first release, “Young Bodies Heal Quickly, You Know”, was simply a way for Congleton to work through his frequent panic attacks.

That tone has continued throughout the bands work, with one singular idea being the common thread: Fear. In the rare press coverage the band receives, their sound is often described as the soundtrack to a non-existent horror movies. While the dissonance and dynamics in the songs may be functionally similar, there is one difference that is key to “getting” the Paper Chase. When your typical horror movie composer sits down to write, he writes songs made to terrify. When John Congleton sits down to write, he composes songs about being terrified.

“Now You Are One of Us”, in a broad sense, is about living a life without accomplishing anything worthwhile and, like the fevered man in the intro, letting fear dictate every action, every event in your life. If there was any single line that sums up the totality of the record, it would be the one repeated most often through out the record: “We will show this cruel world we were here.”

The Paper Chase is one band that is not made for iPod playlists. They are one of those rare musical beasts who still produce actual ALBUMS. And if you listen to these songs outside of their rightful context you’re losing something vital. Starting with their second full length, “Hide the Kitchen Knives”, and continuing with “God Bless Your Black Heart”, and “Now You Are One of Us”, their albums exist as complete works on their own, built up with repeating lyrical and melodic ideas.

This process is no simple copy and paste, either. The melody that debuts as a string quartet, returns as a soft, piano. The context is changed, and what is old is new again. One of my favorite examples of this comes on “God Bless Your Black Heart”. Early in the album, the song “One Day He Went for Milk and Never Came Back” is based on a hymn-like melodic and spat from Congleton’s pained vocal chords, wrapped in a twisting guitar riffs, stabbing strings, and thunderous drums. The first verse goes:

I laid my black heart on the table.
It may just make itself at home.
Cut short your cord length on the phone,
Your smoke alarms and barred windows.
Can’t save your house god burn your soul.

Further on in the album, the song “Abby, You’re Gonna Burn For What You’ve Done to Me” uses that same melody in a mostly instrumental context, played on piano against dissonant, angular chords. There is one bit of vocals at the end. Low and caked in a thick overdrive:

I laid my black heart on the table.
It may just make itself at home.
My tender jewel my precious pearl,
My ruby red, my diamond girl,
I’ll see your head up on a pole.

Really, the Paper Chase is the kind of band that makes what I try to do here difficult. They are dark, but not in a cliche or fake way. They are terrifying, but in a way that is entirely human. They make you uncomfortable, but they make you beg for more.

Andrew’s default appearance is fairly iconic. White shirt, white pants, and white tennis shoes, all stained from use and abuse. Long, unwashed, matted hair, coupled with the lower half of his face usually painted in some sort of stubble, although it occasionally grows unruly enough to be considered an honest-to-god beard.

Of course, there is one other feature that is known for covering Andrew’s face. The thick stream of blood flowing from his nose and cascading down his mouth, chin, and chest. The image was first shown on the cover of his debut album, “I Get Wet”, but it has become the most iconic and important image of Andrew to date. A grisly, yet joyous, testament to exactly how hard someone can party.

More striking then his appearance, however, is his wholly unique personality, his swagger. Although, it’s less of a swagger, and more of a full, open gallop, crashing head first through any brick walls that stand in his way, holding on his face a wide grin the whole way.

All of this comes out in his music. The essential document of such is the same one that first held his iconic, gory, visage. “I Get Wet”, the opening salvo in Andrew’s war, is a goddamn beast. Completely and utterly unrelenting, it locks into a swinging, thunderous groove, and doesn’t stop for anything. This groove comes to life beautifully on stage, with a group of sweaty men crashing and banging the whole glorious monster together. Mammoth guitars, epic synths, and a drummer that couldn’t be shaken by a goddamn earthquake. On top of it all, Andrew’s growling lyrics.

Looking purely from a lyrical content standpoint, the songs don’t have much there, and you can tell as much from looking at the song titles. “She is Beautiful”. “Party Hard”. “Ready to Die”. “Party ’till You Puke”. One quickly realizes, however, that this is all you need. What we have here, essentially, is the template, the very building blocks to having the best time of your life. Anything else would be unnecessary, and reek of pretension.

Some will hear these songs, and dismiss them as disposable. A quick way for the record companies to make some money off of drunk frat boys. The more you look into the music and the man, though, the more you will learn that he is completely serious. For him, “Partying” is not a weekend activity, relegated to the non-working hours. It is a way of life. He implores all of his fans to wake up and be ready to party. No missed opportunities, no regrets. Don’t stop living in the red. This is the essence of Andrew WK, and god bless him for it. Certainly a noble cause if there ever was one.

DJ Funktuall

This guy is a gem in the pile of shit that usually makes up YouTube. He has a seemingly encyclopedic knowledge of  Funk, Soul, and classic Hip-Hop; knowledge that he is more than happy to share. He has his semi-regular series “Top 10 Samples in Hip-Hop History”, part 20 of which is posted above. He has managed to capture the base excitement of hearing something familiar in it’s original context, all wrapped in the personality of a guy who is smart, funny, and knowledgeable. He has the recipe, to say the least. Subscribe immediately.

The Same Love Made Me Laugh

Bonnie Prince Billy covers Bill Withers’ “The Same Love Made Me Laugh”. I believe it might be impossible to find a single flaw in this thing, because it’s the little imperfections that make the performance endearing and, ultimately, perfect. The wavering pitch, the crack in the voice, the nervous tick all make the emotional context a real, tangible thing, as apposed to an abstract concept. It’s not rehearsed or practiced, this is Bonnie Price Billy, just as he was made.

First, a bit of an overview for those unaware. Auto-Tune, produced by the fine people at Antares, is a relatively simple concept. It is a music production plug-in that will analyze the audio brought into it (usually a monophonic instrument, such as a voice). It will identify the pitch, and shift that pitch, in real time, the closest note value. Controls are available to set it within a certain key, or change  how fast it clamps down on errant notes. Essentially, it is rounding everything off, sanding hard corners and covering blemishes.

Here is the situation that showcases Auto-Tune’s intended use: You have a singer, and he or she has just laid down a perfect take. Or at least as perfect as man has achieved. Confident delivery, emotionally deep, and all that jazz. Here’s the problem with the thing: there is this one, singular, note that is flat. Just enough. Off too much to be unnoticed, and too little to be charming. Will you sacrifice this gorgeous piece of vocal talent over the minuscule issue of pitch? Thanks to the tools of the modern studio, you don’t have to! Throw some Auto-Tune on that bitch. And there, pitches are tightened, and the track is saved.

However, Auto-Tune is known nowadays for how it responds when pushed to its limits. Pitches are locked down hard and fast, with no room for vibrato, glissando, or any real humanity. When people decry the use of Auto-Tune, this is what they are referring to, and any pop music listener should recognize the sound almost immediately.

T-pain is an innovator in this respect. He his currently the most public and vocal (guffaw guffaw) proponent and user of Auto-Tune, although there are certainly earlier examples (see: Cher). He is so intrinsically tied to the sound that when a certain Weezy F Baby (he would ask you to not forget the F) copped the technique, he became known as “T-Wayne”.

In certain ways, Lil Wayne is also influential in Auto-Tune use. He made it OK for rappers to implement the sound, without having to utilize any actual singing talent. I wonder if he knows what he’s done. I wonder if he lays awake thinking about the evils he has unleashed upon the world. I doubt it. I hear untold amounts of money make for excellent bedding.

So, when music snobs, their noses held high, declare the evils of Auto-Tune, this is what their referring to. This is not, however, Auto-Tune’s only purpose. There’s the example posted above, a workman present in any modern studio. Then there are more interesting applications. For example, Daft Punk’s more famous vocal based tracks, such as “Around the World”, and “Harder Better Faster Stronger” push the unnervingly-perfect quality into full on robot speak.

When the first bits of Kanye West’s 808′s and Heartbreak began to trickle out, fans and critics derided him for seemingly appealing to trends by adopting sung, auto-tuned vocals. Really, though, what he was doing was, and still is, a completely unique approach to auto-tune, and pop songwriting in general. No one else has really been able to imitate this type of stark, electronic sound. Besides, it’s hard to argue with Kanye’s reasoning. From an interview with Fader: “I’m using auto-tune because I don’t give a fuck. I like the way it sounds.”

One final example: “Lightspeed” by Matt and Kim. As we’ve seen above, Auto-Tune is typically associated with Rap and R&B. However, here it is applied to great affect in perhaps one of the happiest songs you will ever hear. It only requires bare instrumentation, and the effect only makes itself apparent when the vocals begin to careen wildly.

So, my fellow digesters and critics of music. Don’t criticize Auto-Tune as you did before you were properly educated. The old girl deserves better than that. Criticize, instead, the song writers and record producers using the effect in such unimaginative ways. In that same vain, I say to my fellow song writers and record producers, experiment for God’s sake! Do something interesting with the thing! Put on a rhythm part, a string part, anything but a vocal!

Or you could just use Melodyne. Whatever.

We have all had an experience where a song that we wouldn’t normally consider artistically valid becomes stuck in our head. I have myself recently experienced this with the song “Human” by The Killers. Normally, I consider the lyric  ”Are we human, or are we dancer?” to be completely boneheaded and the overall song to be terrible. And yet, I still find myself humming it at odd times. If you’re like me, you justify this kind of activity by saying, “Oh, it’s just catchy.”

We see that there are two types of songs that we assign value to, even if it’s only on a subconscious level. Good songs and catchy songs. A good song can be catchy, and a abhorrent song is often neither. To better understand this, it would be useful to look at specific examples. Luckily, there is an artist that can provide us with what we require: Britney Spears. Regardless about how you feel about her ex, her kids, or her hairstyle, you can’t deny that she has produced some monster pop songs over the years. But are they good, are they catchy, or are they both? Depends on which one you look at.

Can you guess the name of this song? Here’s a hint: it’s repeated more times than anyone should count. One of the easiest ways to spot a song who’s sole aim is to be catchy is to see where it places it’s emphasis. The writers of these songs are often aware that what they’ve composed doesn’t have much value beyond it’s ability to stick in your head. Subsequently, they place all of their metaphorical eggs in an equally metaphorical basket.

In this case, it is manifested through the hammering of the phrase “Gimme, gimme more”. Beyond that, there’s basically nothing here. The same boring bass line and boneheaded drum beat repeat the whole song, with other instruments only being added for the oft-repeated chorus. In terms of composition, tone, and originality, the whole affair is worthless. And yet that damnable phrase refuses to leave you, haunting you like some vile spirit.

There we go. That’s that good shit. “Toxic” is arguably one of Spears’ best songs, if not a modern pop masterpiece. Here we are able to find real, tangible value. Musically, it’s a rich and full affair, with guitars, strings, and synths all serving to back up the vocal. All of the instruments, voice included, change dynamics with the song, making for a much more nuanced recording. It’s important to note that “Toxic” is just as catchy as “Gimme More”. However, this song is memorable for entirely different reasons. Instead of relying on rote memorization, “Toxic” stays with you due to well-written melodies and interesting sounds, such as the string part during the verses.

Basically, this whole exercise leads us here: “Gimme More” is a catchy song. ”Toxic” is a good song. We have plenty of one, and far too few of the other. And it seems, more and more, that we are confusing these two aspects of popular music.

The music itself, however, is in the midst of dire times, and has been for some time. I challenge you to turn on your local Christian radio station and locate more than a grain of originality. In terms of instrumentation, these artists have established long ago what their audience is comfortable with, and have not deviated from it in the slightest. When the lyrics present themselves, I become convinced that there must exist a sort of Madlib for Christian music, where nondescript words of praise such as “holy” or “sanctified” can be entered at will.

To be fair, however, most of what you’ll hear on such radio stations is of the genre known as “Contemporary Christian”. Many of the same gripes about unoriginality can be brought to bear against pop radio. But what about the evangelical variants of Metal and Rap? The majority suffer from the same banality. They exist simply as an alternative to “The World’s” version of these same genres. I remember, back when I inhabited this musical realm, there was a chart in one of the local Christian book stores which listed a variety of secular artists, along with Christian surrogates which were considered more wholesome. They were certainly not shy about their perceived task: Creating music that you can’t feel guilty about.

However, artists who make and market music solely for a Christian audience also face extreme artistic limitations. For an artist to be successful within the Christian music community, harsh judgment is leveled not only against the music, but against the artist. You’ll never hear U2 on evangelical radio, because they smoke, cuss and drink. You will however, hear their songs played by an approved artist. Many Christian labels require theses artists to sign morality clauses, giving the label an out on an artist who’s career has died because he was caught drinking a beer. The idea of “any publicity is good publicity”, is invalid when it comes to evangelical music. The slightest hint of sinful behavior is a career death sentence.

Obviously this is not ideal. I’m not saying all Christian artists create music that is unoriginal, or lacking depth. But there’s a reason most of the good ones exist outside of the normal Christian music scene. Regardless of religious affinity, strict boundaries aren’t good for any artists’ growth or development.

I’m done with people making Christian music. I want people who are Christians making music.

Edit: As a quick addition to this article, if you want to learn more about the Christian music scene, especially from an outsider, I recommend Body Piercing Saved My Life: Inside the Phenomenon of Christian Rock by Andrew Beaujon.