Layers of Dapp

Layers of Chance
Dapp Theory
Contrology/ObliqSound

The jazz-hip-hop thing has been around a while now and no longer has an automatic novelty value. While Andy Milne’s Dapp Theory made its reputation for such hip-hop influenced jazz, it happily sounds like a legit working band on their long-awaited new CD, Layers of Chance (on-sale today), that does not need to rely on novelty.

The music of Dapp Theory is surprisingly melodic throughout Layers and the rap elements are not overplayed. In fact, some of the best tunes on the release are strictly instrumentals, like “If You Count It.” Milne’s composition is given an interesting treatment, starting as a bright, up-tempo acoustic bop piece showcasing reedman Loren Stillman on soprano, but concluding with a moody arco bass coda.

The ballad “Tracking the Page” is another instrumental also featuring some notable soprano work from Stillman (although the synthesized strings are a bit heavy). However, the crisp melody of “Bird Calls” proves to be a great vehicle for Milne’s jazz chops. “Monk Walk” has some of the loping, off-kilter rhythms of its apparent namesake, but it is a funkier, electric piece dominated by soprano and keyboards.

When Dapp Theory does include “percussive poetry” from John Moon, it often does so with more inventive arrangements than then standard rap-brief solo-rap-fade format now so familiar. For instance, the concluding “Déjà Vu,” sounds like some groovy jazz-funk, with a nice acoustic solo from Milne, until about the 4:40 mark, when Moon comes in.

The lyrics “Blackout” might be the most compelling and intimate of the percussive poetry tracks. Combined with Milne’s snaky melody, it deftly illustrates how effectively Dapp Theory can integrate hip-hop elements and jazz. Likewise, “Bodybag For Martin” nicely balances the musical and vocal, with Moon entering almost exactly at the track’s halfway point. However, the “social conscience” lyrics cover well-worn territory (bordering the clichéd) that could have come from any other rap track.

Milne has a knack for intriguing compositions and his band can play. What is interesting about Milne’s group is that they sound equally comfortable playing as a unit both with and without the percussive poetry. Layers is a shrewdly balanced session that never sounds forced. It might even open some ears beyond the Dapp fan-base for its melodic and rhythmic sense.

Reality Music

Bad sign for hip hop: Vibe magazine is starting to sound defensive. The latest issue features contributions from several commentators on whether hip-hop is dying or just slightly winded. Representing the “nothing-to-worry-about-here-move-along” side is Greg Tate who writes:

“The day it matters what anybody over 25 thinks about hip hop is the day hip hop will have truly died as a culture and become like jazz—a history lesson in need of its Ken Burns.”

A more jaundiced view comes from Dr. John McWhorter of the Manhattan Institute (and an interpreter of vocal standards). McWhorter takes the music to task for its glorified cynicism:

“Hip hop and keeping it ‘real’ don’t seem to be working out so well. Let’s face it: It’s always been a pretty lazy kind of ‘real,’ hasn’t it? There’s nothing too difficult about cursing, calling people names, and hating Republicans. What’s difficult, and what real people do, is strive for something better than real.”

What’s realer than real are signs that hip hops commercial appeal might be cresting (a 21 % sales decline from 2005 to 2006). Tate off-handedly dismisses jazz, which in reality is still a vital form of musical expression. When jazz lost its commercial clout, it still had its dazzling virtuosity and its soul. Check out some of the emerging jazz musicians in the smaller clubs in the City and you will feel like the early Christians keeping faith alive in the Roman catacombs. Hip hop however, sold its soul (and cheap to white suburban kids). If the money goes, what is it left with? Cursing, name calling, and hating Republicans make for lousy nostalgia.

To be fair, there have been some soulful hip hop songs, but thing of it is, they usually display a marked jazz influence. A case in point: Us3’s “Grand Groove,” a grandson’s dedication to his grandfather, definitely speaks of someone who worked “for something better than real.” Frankly, Us3 might be too downright jazzy for Tate and the other hip hop partisans manning the barricades in Vibe. They feature instrumental solos after all, which definitely keeps things real.

Citizen Wynton

There is no more cutting insult for Marsalis than the word “minstrelsy.” He applies it repeatedly to hip-hop culture in an interview with Bill Milkowski in the April Jazz Times. With From the Plantation to the Penitentiary, his most explicitly political CD in several years releasing this week, Marsalis is front-and-center in the jazz magazines.

Despite the feature stories, the reviews of Penitentiary, have been mixed (JT) to negative (DB). The lyrics Marsalis wrote, particularly his rap on “Where Y’All At?” have been particularly panned. It is an ironic turn, given the controversial response to Marsalis’ frequent criticisms of hip-hop for its vulgarity and misogyny. When Milkowski compares him to Cosby, Marsalis responds: “I was speaking out about it long before Bill Cosby.”

Marsalis seems to be a sort of Rorschach for jazz fans. They either see everything they like or dislike about the music embodied in the trumpeter. His detractors label him a neo-conservative, for his neo-classical approach to the jazz canon. In a separate JT review of the disc, Geoffrey Himes writes: “Marsalis sounds downright Republican when he attacks taxes, ‘modern-day minstrels’ and womb-vanquished dreams.’” This seems to overstate matters in what is an overall evenhanded review, particularly given the “Supercapitalism” track critiquing consumerist society.

On the subject of rebuilding his hometown, Marsalis is bluntly outspoken, yet more nuanced than one might expect. When given a cue to bash Pres. Bush, does not bite as hard as one might expect, telling Milkowski:

“it doesn’t really make a difference what party is in control. Like I said, ‘It don’t make a difference if it’s the left or the right/They’ll both get together and make your pocket light.’ Who do you want to rob you? It’s not like there’s been a big cry from the Democrats to get New Orleans right.”

Perhaps this political agnosticism is why many critics have not embraced Penitentiary and his jujitsu-like attempt to use the rap which he has scorned for years. Marsalis has never sugar-coated his opinions, so some seem to have a knee-jerk reaction to him. It is hard to argue when he blasts hip-hop for sexually objectifying women and deriding the benefits of education. Those who take issue with his every utterance seem to be harkening back to past arguments over the validity of Miles Davis’ electric years.

There is no question Marsalis is an enormously talented musician. There is also no denying he can be curtly dismissive of the styles he does not embrace, but even his harshest critics will give him credit for his educational outreach efforts. After his meteoric rise and his establishment of J@LC, Marsalis is probably the only jazz musician today for whom one name is sufficient with the general public—Wynton, like Miles. The second act of his career will probably be defined by his efforts on behalf of post-Katrina New Orleans, and may yet bring the inkblots into sharp focus.

(An ironic post to go up a day after giving credit to OutKast’s Idlewild. I can’t speak to their CDs, but the film did not have anymore adult language or sexuality than the average Hollywood release. The violence is actually presented in a moral context and the film concludes with a major character choosing his family obligations over the fast life. Whether Marsalis would enjoy the film, I would not want to guess and be wrong.)