Thursday, November 12, 2009

A Case for the DJ

This past week, Fred Ho visited Macalester and the U of M through the Mellon Mays fund. I also purchased a book of revolutionary Jazz album artwork, called Freedom Rhythm and Sound: Revolutionary Jazz Original Cover Art 1965-83










(here is a link to the publisher's store, where their description is posted). It's compiled by Gilles Peterson, internationally acclaimed Radio DJ and "tastemaker," and Stuart Baker, who started the Soul Jazz Records shop and later the record label of the same name to release new music and reissues (the shop's name was changed a few years ago to Sounds of the Universe). Peterson is also involved in the label by means of finding talent, and also "digging" for rare pieces to unearth as one of their reissues. To make that clear, Soul Jazz started as a store, and continues to be one in the UK. The international/abroad online branch of the same store was created under the name Sounds of the Universe, and the store began carrying all different kinds of styles of music (in addition to the soul and jazz they specialized in prior). They also release music...most of it is pretty cool. Here's a link to an interview with Stuart Baker done by Know the Ledge, if you're interested in knowing a bit more about transitions with the store/label.

More will be coming on this later - I have an idea to use the book and the forthcoming 4LP compliation that was supposed to be released alongside it as a feature study - but in the meantime I just read this great article on the book (which I will also use in that research), written by a Kevan Harris, and am thinking about how the music represented herein relates to what I've covered so far (both posted about, and read about/experienced but not yet posted about - especially things like the advent of recorded music covered in Blues People and what that meant for artists, as well as Fred Ho's visit to Macalester and what he said about music returning to the communal process that it used to be - which, as I understand his perspective, contrasts directly with any fixed recordings of it). It is with great luck and privileged access that I have been able to see Fred Ho and then purchase this book that portrays the revolutionary jazz lineage from which he draws his style and theory. I wish I had taken the risk of asking Fred what he thinks of the DJ, who is most-certainly a musician in my mind. But I'll be honest, I was intimidated and this was when I was coming down with the sickness...I couldn't engage mentally as I wish I could have.

Here is my point of worry/query - I feel moved by these things, both in theory and in sound (though, aside from when I heard Fred Ho play, the rest of my experience with what could be called "revolutionary jazz" has been listening to records, which only represent what was present at the moments of recording, but not the moments of my listening - the way artists change and adapt sounds for a certain setting, in reaction to who they're playing with, the communities they inhabit, the racism both ongoing structurally but every-day in the personal, changing relationships to the instruments they play, the list goes on... are left out and I am left with, if anything, a "recorded on someday of somemonth, 19somethingsomething," which will never explain what a recording meant), and I'm trying to understand the significance of such music, within the histories of music, the lives of the people that played it, heard it, listened to recordings of it, wrote about it, reported on it, slandered it, made up lies about it - good or bad - etc... for my own consumption of it, but also so that with my DJing, I can incorporate it as well. In my understanding - which has come from hearing many DJs play, and also talk about their crafts and philosophies of what they do, both person to person, but also through books, interviews, documentaries, etc. - I would argue that "the DJ" has the potential to, in a post-modern kind of view, become an artist playing a set of instruments. And I would also say in defense of my claim (if I were to present this to Fred Ho or something ridiculous like that) that within all of the history of DJing and up until the present, there has been and continue to be places for subversive and revolutionary action. Part of the rise of what became known as hip-hop DJing, for example, was the subversive act of having fun in the decimated, neglected Bronx (and on the city's dime, at that, since they were tapping into light city light posts for power!) that was only possible after a gang truce (which was led by people within the Bronx as they came to see the power structures looming overhead as the enemy not each other). Even as DJing has become established in certain spheres like weddings, clubs, etc. and designated specific spaces in which it is appropriate (now one must get a permit to play music in a public park and must stop after dark - at least that's the rule in St. Paul/Minneapolis), methods have been developed to slip in education and communicate with the people directly - the dancers - to send a different message than the perceived "clubbing experience" might be expected to. Here are some points:

+There are notes: if you'll consider the individual songs that a DJ selects to be such.

+There are ways to play/arrange these notes in succession or at the same time: songs being mixed over/into/out of each other to form the DJ's "song(s)." One could consider a mix-DJ's song to be an entire mix, while the example following is what would be a "turntablist's" song: Kid Koala doing his introduction as well as "Drunk Trumpeter," where he "plays" trumpet through an already existing recording by altering notes in their pitch (slowing down the platter or speeding it up), placement, repeating, cutting out, etc.


+There is the ability to create new sounds by scratching with a record. This involves manipulating both the record, with one hand, to make sounds and the mixer, with the other, to control when the sound is on or off. With this, a turntable can be played literally like an instrument in that a sound can be played with varying changes in volume and force, velocity can change, which affects the pitch. It can be melodic and/or rhythmic. There is also, believe it or not, a form of notation for scratching (though no parallel exists with mixing records together). Get ready. Also, note the white sticker strips on the labels of the records that allow him to visually recognize where the beat is - it will be featured below with the technique of looping a breakbeat.


+There are established instrument types, usually two turntables and one mixer to select mediate the two sources of sound. They are the products of only a few decades of intense innovation, modification, and simplification as well. I'm not familiar if there are accounts of the creation of other instruments - aside from the "drum kit," which took form in the early 1900's - but the phonograph seems to be a very unique case. What had been a technology of leisure and radio for decades faced new demands as club DJs in the US, kids in the bronx, and dancehall selectors in Jamaica (at different times - this didn't all happen at once! - though they certainly informed each other) were demanding different things of turntables than had ever been required in their previous uses. And if music and instruments are thought to have been developed in communal settings and processes, the contexts in which these DJ's were demanding the rebirth of the turntable in the capacity of an instrument certainly reflected the communal in the music - many people together: the DJ(s) and the dancer(s)/watcher(s), who I would say are both equally important parts of the equation.
The new features were added to turntables as required (pitch adjustment, for example, being added as club DJ, Francis Grasso, needed it to blend disco, rock, and soul songs in the 60's/70's that did not share the same original tempo). Mixers were developed as amps proved insufficient in mixing tracks. Just like artists form connections to their acoustic (or electric) instruments, here too there are characteristics that people become connected to, though they are in mass-produced electronics. Many DJs, for example, swear by the Technics 1200 turntables, which have been made roughly the exact same (except for probably differences in part sources and such, over the years) since the 1970's when they were introduced. So, when you think about that, just like there's a "typical design" for a trumpet or string bass, there is a constant and established standard and norm for turntable design as well.
With mixers, things have been a bit different. The tables were in existence before DJs, but mixers were not specialized for DJs until the demand presented itself in the form of, again Francis Grasso. Mixing boards existed before for use with radio broadcasting and recording, but DJs took that technology and customized it for their own applications. The concept of a crossfader between two channels was never necessary until DJs wanted to switch quickly from a record on the left turntable to a record on the right table without having to alter their individual volume levels. That was more of a necessity, as I understand, for hip-hop DJs. The first actual DJ mixer was created by a guy named Bozak for Francis Grasso to use in the club and featured a new innovation, the ability to cue, or preview, a track you plan to play in your headphones, without it coming out the main speakers. This has held incredible changes for DJs.
(Here's a side note about two different styles of mixer available today, digital and analog - though digital mixers almost completely dominate the market - and the different sounds they produce. To try to describe this quickly: digital is often seen as bad among audiophiles and even just people who collect and play vinyl, who aren't necessarily trying to obtain "the best sound" as are the former. Vinyl, afterall is an analog format, so it would make sense that the mixer and other electronic components the sound must travel through before coming out speakers be analog also. Analog came before, and is in many ways more direct - the needle on the record vibrates when it runs over a beat or sound of any kind, this vibration is picked up as an electric wave or signal, which is sent through the wiring of the turntable into the mixer, which either lets the wave through or not depending on the settings, it travels to the amplifier which bumps up the strength of the signal to an audible level and sends it out to speakers, the cones of which move in and out, hopefully replicating the vibration picked up by the needle. Your ear picks up that movement of air molecules by the speaker cones as sound. That was not short, nor was it all...here's digital: all is the same except what happens in the mixer - it gets a signal, then the wave is translated into binary code, 1's and 0's, processed however your mixer is set to process the volume, maybe adding digital effects like echo or filters, etc., and then translated through those parameters and sent back out as analog, because amps/speakers always need an analog, electrical signal/pulse. It might seem ok, because it comes back out as analog in the end, but it's not (to the trained ear)! This process of double translation inevitably leaves out part of the original signal. This is most often noticeable in sub-bass - the kind you feel vibrate your chest on a large system. This is also a concern and point of heated debate among DJs with regard to digital music. Most music is now recorded and mixed digitally, so even if one buys a record, it is a record of a digital file (and I can't be sure of what kind of quality most artists use when creating songs digitally or when mixers mixdown a track in a computer program), and will never be as full of a sound as if it were analog. It's hard for me to explain...this may not be of too much help, but I've seen a few different explanations under company websites. Here is one from sony...
It is true that digital recording and editing is more convenient and could be reproduced infinitely, hypothetically, where analog tapes and records wear out after multiple listens (the needle on the groove creates friction and affects the shape of the groove over a long period of time), but where distortion is kept in check, the analog recording will be a full copy of whatever sound was made, where digital will be only part because of sampling rates and such. If this sounds unfamiliar at all, it's because this is not much of a concern for the general public, as a 128 kilobytes-per-second(kbps) MP3 (the standard, more or less, and default setting for iTunes when importing a CD) is hard to distinguish from a better quality MP3, an MP4, a WAV file, or others. On most mid-range and cheaper headphones, it doesn't make much difference, and that's what most people listen to it seems like. BUT, in the club, it's a different story. Ask most DJ's who have experience playing digital files ALONG WITH vinyl in a club and many will say it's a noticeable difference - my brother being the first to inform me of this and demonstrate. The record filled up the room in a way that was noticeably different from the 128kbps MP3. In comparison, the MP3 sounded a little light...if one came on after the other, a literal energy shift would be notable because the speakers wouldn't be reproducing as accurate and full a signal.)

And while it's on my mind, another thing about musicianship that I've noticed is: regardless of equipment/instrument quality, the person is what matters. Street drummers in Chicago on Michigan Ave (the "Magnificent Mile"), I've seen a few times over my years growing up, they usually play on combinations of 5-gallon plastic drums, garbage cans and their lids, sinks, and every time, whether a group or a solo performer, it's always been amazing. It is important to think about the relationship to drummers in bands, of course, who are not the sole sources of sound nor points of focus, and how that affects my perception. There are different things at stake in each situation, different contexts (solo or part of a band), etc. But check 7:25 for an interesting visible link to hip-hop. Street musicians, street dance. This is a clip from the documentary "The Freshest Kids" about the history of b-boy/b-girling:

The drummer featured in the video is clearly very skilled - he can get many different sounds out of his instruments, he can hold a pretty consistent beat (important for people moving to it - though, and I can't remember where I read this but, no dancer is a perfect dancer and that isn't stigmatized, so it would only be fair that the imperfections of human drumming or any instrument playing be viewed likewise), and he adapts to this situation well, which is evidenced by him visibly getting down to the dancers, and them visibly getting down to his beats/presence (I also think it's interesting how the style of dance known as b-boying, represented in that video, was created to the soundtrack of DJs who were looping up drummer's breaks from records and extending them, as well as to boomboxes playing tapes of songs with breaks or the radio. So, in this video clip above, the recording is no longer a substitute - the dancers are with the real thing, and both the dancers and the drummer are improvising on the spot - but also, given the history of the dance styles they were using, the drummer had to adapt to what the DJs had established as the soundtrack to that style of dance: breaks! It's like taking it back one step past the DJ and back to the drummer, it has interesting characteristics unique to that interaction. In terms of dance, it's mostly talked about like anticipating the song, but what happens when the beat has to anticipate the drummer too, because it's played by a human, not a recording? Potentially some cool stuff, as the video shows.) He has modest instruments, if you would say even that, and he does amazing things with them that I only wish I could someday do (I say that as someone trying to learn currently). DJs similarly have been able to pull off amazing feats with inadequate and/or broken equipment. As mentioned earlier, Francis Grasso, the "pioneer of the blend" (seamlessly mixing two songs together to transition), was doing this before he could alter the speed of the record in any lasting way (with a pitch control), but he was able to blend songs by slowing down or speeding up the record manually. He could just use a finger on the record to spin it temporarily faster or rubbing the edge of the record to slow it down temporarily. What I'm getting at may be about quality, but the deeper issue I think could be called "fluency" (if one considers learning an instrument to be like learning a new language) - if one is fluent and intimate with an instrument, they can become one, I believe. Fred Ho brought this up - his baritone has his DNA in it, where the brass has patina, the pads where his fingertips rest have indents to match his touch - as much as he has adapted to his instrument with years upon years of practice, his instrument has adapted to him during that time as well.
It would be interesting to also look at what one is able to express and how. Ho played in a way I had never heard, and clearly unique. I heard a friend say that Ho was able to reach notes on a baritone sax that he couldn't even reach when he played alto and tenor sax. Wow. I don't know much about sax or any brass instrument, but that sounds remarkable and quite powerful - it definitely was to hear it. Another thing I noticed was a technique he did of what seemed like popping the reed so as to make a quick and sharp sound of a note as well as a percussive snap. The term he used for it escapes me now. In this act, he added percussion to his baritone sax playing, which is also new to me. To think of it theoretically, when I try, I feel that these are two characteristics of his playing and sound that are revolutionary. He is redefining the way he plays his saxiphone against conventions of technique, and in contrast to what a saxiphone (and a baritone, at that) is supposed to be used for. No longer is it just a smooth, relaxing melody-maker. He certainly incorporated that in parts of his playing, but he also played in ways I would describe as loud, jolting, violent. I see a potential bridge to the Harris article from Dusted in which he says of revolutionary jazz in the late 60's and 70's: "At its most innovative, thoughtful, and, therefore, threatening to the jazz bought and relaxed to by mainstream America, black experimental music in this period could act like an unwanted détournement." This is an important point for me in locating what some of the social context was for this music and art around its point of creation and recording/production.

To get back to my defense for DJing as a form of music-making,
+there are different styles of filling sonic space:

>One song played in its entirety, sometimes with "dead air" before the next. This can be because of a mistake, like not having the next track picked out in time (which I sometimes find myself doing), or it can be intentional, such as the case with David Mancuso:
"Getting into high end audio I realized how much nuance there was in the record and also that the record should stand on its own. I don't want to interfere with what the artist intended or the integrity of the recording cause that's the artist's message so I play the record from the beginning to the very end. Occasionally, if I had one of those DJ friendly records where it starts off going boom-boom-boom for thirty seconds or more I would time it to begin a little later... In order to get Class-A sound, you had to get rid of the mixer. So what happens is you find a way to keep the flow going so there's no space unless you intended it to be that way."
This follows an ideology about DJing and sound reproduction that requires mixing techniques to be limited to those that do not manipulate the record - in a sense, Mancuso avoids the technological advances that have allowed DJs greater control over their performance and tried to let the music stand on its own, but chooses how it is juxtaposed with others to create something new and an experience that goes along with it. What he believes and practices currently, as far as I understand, is that the recording should be respected as the work of the musician (what should also be noted is that most often he is not playing records from major/commercial labels, known to screen their arstists' work and intentions - he plays a lot of independently produced and circulated music, and a lot from small labels that allowed much greater artistic freedom and control over the finished products), and should be presented with the most clear sound possible (valuing clarity and accurate sonic reproduction of a record rather than loudness and extreme amounts of bass). I find this really interesting, and it reflects greatly his upbrining with music being a kind of escape from chaotic or upsetting conditions around him - something that could raise his life energy, as he calls it. (for more info, here's an interview with him on discomusic.com, from which I borrowed for the above). That is a certain technique as it applies to also a theory of playing - DJ as channeler, and a simple selector, mood-setter.

>A song played, then another song started or "cut" in. This requires a bit of technological explanation. Before DJ's had their own special mixers, as described above, they hooked up their turntables to an amplifier - the old kind, with the large knobs, potentially a long radio dial, and various inputs...the kind one might use for a "home entertainment center." Some amplifiers had enough inputs for two turntables, sometimes two amplifiers would have to be hooked up individually to two turntables, and then spliced into one speaker system so a dj could switch from one turntable to another on the same sounds system. There was no convenient mix, none of that...it all came later as Mancuso, Grasso, Grandmaster Flash, and others pioneered their own technological advances for personal use. The cue feature, as I have read/seen in interviews, was created by both Grasso and Flash, but for different uses (Grasso was said to have made a cuing system before Bozak came to him with the prototype mixer, which is how Bozak knew to add the feature to his mixer). Grasso was working in discothechues, and in order to realize his vision of manipulating the energy of the dancefloor, he needed more control over his music. Thus, cuing allowed him to preview his incoming track so he knew when to drop it and, after pitch controls were added to turntables, he could match the beats of the incoming song with those of the already playing song for a seamless mix, which will appear lower as another technique (some info on Grasso). Grandmaster Flash was inspired by Kool Herc and Bambaataa, who could cut two copies of the same record back and forth to extend the break (this is all encapsulated in about a million sources...Can't Stop Won't Stop, by Jeff Chang, is a great place to find it - there's a chapter all about Grandmaster Flash and his technological and turntable wizardry). He learned this technique, but he also saw much room for improvement. Herc and Bam were great, but they couldn't have exact accuracy because they were doing it all by sight (they would cue their records up by the markings they made - just like Rob swift in the video above) and Flash, who, as a child, was really into technology, fixing things, learning how things work, etc. (not that he isn't now, that's just how the story goes) wanted a way to hear the incoming record. So, he made it. Here's a video to hopefully make more sense of it...it doesn't show the process of marking where the break is, etc. but if you look closely, you can see a black line at the hypothetical 12 o'clock (respective to the DJ, not the camera lens) that he keeps pulling it back to before he cuts the record back in.

My reasons for covering all of that are to pay tribute to a part of DJing that is easy to overlook because...many reasons. The music is now "dated," many of the styles are no longer widely relevant, or the scene in which they thrived and were developed are no longer in existence or in the same form (hip-hop is the obvious one), or techniques broke off into their own subcultures that may or not be thriving, but are now equally secluded from the public consciousness (here I'm talking about turntablism - the development of the technique I just detailed and scratching, as foundations, into a full style of music creation. The X-Ecutioners, Rob Swift, and Kid Koala are examples of more palatable or well-known turntablist artists, though many do not release music, just compete, or not compete and do for personal satisfaction).
What is so hard for me to think is that all of this "theory" that I now can outline on this blog was never so clear in the moment. It was a feeling "there shouldn't be a break in between songs, the dancefloor doesn't like it," or "I want to make that better," and something was done. People were innovative, they tried new things that hadn't been thought of before. In many cases technological innovations followed slowly behind these "pioneering" DJs who were making their equipment do amazing things it was never dreamed it could do by its designers. Though I'm not trying to essentialize the DJs - just as much as a DJ is important for playing music, they are informed by their crowd, and they share the experience of a night, event, day in the park, chill-out, etc. This holds (with the exception of the bedroom/home as the grounds for practicing technical abilities) the potential to be a very communal process.

>There are smooth transitions from one song to another which were pioneered by Francis Grasso, who, at his height, was known for laying two tracks over each other for 2 minutes, regularly. It's important to note that these are not electronically made songs (aside from, of course, the recording technology and maybe keyboards and such - no drum machines) - they had live drummers, who have been known, historically, to miss beats, not play a steady rate, and not play each note at the same loudness where it seems they should. This was a feat that many DJs no longer can claim to be within their repertoire. It's amazing, and I wish I could experience that in person. But many of the DJs to develop this ability to such level have since passed away - Grasso, Larry Levan, Ron Hardy, and of course the non-superstar DJs who have been obscured by the "shining stars" of DJing history. It's mostly in New York that such spaces still exist, and I haven't ever been there...not yet.
Most often this technique currently finds itself within clubs as the old standby or norm. Being that most songs are made electronically, or can be altered to be perfectly in-time all the time, DJs no longer have to focus so much on holding a mix - they can set two songs together and let them overlap for minutes without having to touch any settings. During this time, they can mix in other songs (on a third turntable). Here's Jeff Mills, a widely known techno artist from Detroit, considered part of the second-wave of Detroit Techno artists, if I'm not mistaken, who did a video called "Purpose Maker." Here is "part 1" of that:


He moves extremely fast, and appears in control and comfortable in his space, with the equipment and his body using. This is a bit of a different concept than what I'm trying to talk about, however, which is live and "unplanned" DJing sets. The ones where someone is playing in a club, at an event, or for fun and does whatever happens in the moment. This is just to show, mostly the use of three turntables in a high quality video. Examples of such techniques in a club setting are available but usually of low sound quality, video quality, or both.
The ability of the DJ to mix smoothly between songs allows for a mood to be sustained and manipulated. As Grasso figured out and spread on to other aspiring DJs, there is great power behind the decks, and it's easy to play with people's emotions. The introduction of these techniques gave DJs an added advantage that dancers were not prepared for. Grasso's DJing, as well as that of his protege's, one being Levan, changed people's lives in profound ways - or, at the least, contributed to the clubs where people's lives changed. To these DJs, however, it wasn't just blending, but also what a jolt of a new song being brought in unannounced and abruptly - cut in, as described above - that belonged to their repertoires. They would use anything at their disposal.
This kind of conglomeration and attempt at synthesizing and utilizing as many techniques as possible seems to be the trend I see with established, and I'd consider maybe more "subversive" DJs who I've heard speak - the ones who have played clubs, house parties, events like gallery exhibits, weddings and know what it's like to have to play to a particular audience and understand that, but still bring their own technique and spin to it (haha...). These include my brother, DJ Bozak, and DJ D Double to name two. I heard both say that in a club, there are boundaries - that people are there to have fun, to dance, to party, to have a good night, and they can't do that if a DJ is doing their own thing all night. It's about compromise - and there are ways, as a DJ, to put a twist on that idea that you're just gonna play what's hot, whatever the people want. It's a power struggle - because clubbing has become, for many patrons, about going to a particular location for its ambiance, it's drink specials, because that's where friends are, whatever, and a lot less about a particular DJ and any kind of commitment or connection to her/him (unless one is a superstar DJ like Tiesto or whathaveyou). Thus, it becomes kind of a give and take - (to give an example of D Double's) I'll play this hot Lupe Fiasco song, "Kick, Push," but I'll also play the sample for the strings, which is an old Filipino song. This becomes especially important when considering that you may bring some style that people don't want to hear. He said it like this (this is paraphrased, from memory): if I'm playing in a club to a Filipino crowd, and that crowd that night doesn't like hip-hop, I have to educate - there are ways to open people up to stuff and get them thinking and reconsidering. That is where his example of the Lupe Fiasco song comes in. There is a connection, and then people start to question. Or, another case is something I've seen my brother do where he'll play "Clear" by Cybotron (from the first wave of Detroit Techno: Juan Atkins being the head of the group):


and then drop in Missy Elliot's "Lose Control:"


This all gives me hope, as a DJ, that I can someday do great things with the notes that I learn to play and incorporate into my repertoire. I am drawn to certain things, and I find that changing with time as I feel myself connected to certain people, communities, ideas and how those change. If anything it will only ever amount to a map of my interests and what I had access to at particular moments. The examples of Keepingtime and Brasilintime projects are really inspiring for how DJs as artists can collaborate with other instrumentalists:


And, of course, groups like Linkin Park and Portishead have included DJs as well. It has crossed over in many ways, but within those contexts, I hardly see the DJs using the full capability of their instruments as others may be in the groups. It is important to note, however that both of those groups would not be categorized as jazz (though certainly Portishead's downtempo trip-hop vibe should be partially attributed to hip-hop that sampled jazz and created a sound on which they gained at least some inspiration). I'm interested in revolutionary jazz and where hip-hop and DJing connect with that and how they can still do so. It would be interesting also to think about ways that revolutionary jazz records could be manipulated and/or contributed to by DJs to remix the message and statements of the artists for a contemporary day and current meaning. But also, taking into account my position as a white man who DJs, that I would have anything to do with that seems questionable to me. I support what they say, and I want to make room for that, not do my own thing with it, at least as of now. I can't figure out a way to feel comfortable about manipulating something I know to be political in the manner of a turntablist - maybe to mix it into something or mix something into it, but not to deconstruct it or scratch over. That is the issue of playing notes that are entire songs in themselves - they have their own existent meaning and purpose before I play them. I put them in new context and that can do so many things to the meaning of individual songs, and to "my" entire song which is the combination thereof. With projects such as keepingtime and brasilintime, it becomes a communal process again, and the choice of songs for DJ manipulation could then become one of the entire group for the purpose of their creative process and what they intend to mean.

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