It’s time to dip into the mailbag and see what goodies have arrived lately:

Baton Rouge septet Secret Annexe’s sophomore release is titled Seven Headed Monster (2007), yet the record contains little of the title’s grotesque hydra-like implications. Formed by the husband-and-wife duo of Rob and Tammy Mulhearn, the group plays a well-balanced blend of psychedelic folk, noisy guitar rock, and quirky ’90s indie-pop; think Pinetop Seven and Pavement having coffee in a diner while Camper Van Beethoven is eavesdropping in on the conversation. Seven Headed Monster was committed to tape over the course of six months in the comfort of Rob’s suburban Louisiana home, and the lack of studio professionalism and time constraints is apparent – I mean this in a good way, of course. It took a few listens to warm up to, but once I had accustomed myself to the band’s unique sound-world, I began to eagerly await the appearance of Kelly Stone’s tasteful viola countermelodies, the subtle organ and piano lines, and some of the most glorious backing harmonies in recent memory. “I Think It’s Safe” fuses these elements together wonderfully, and the jumble of chatter at 2:30 is a nice touch. Rob’s vocals occasionally seem like an afterthought and are frustratingly dry in the mix, and Tammy’s drums are a little too ‘loose’ for my taste, but overall, this is a fine outing from a band clearly at ease with doing their own thing.

“I Think It’s Safe” – Secret Annexe 3:20 (Seven Headed Monster, Ocelot 2007)

It’s rare that I’ll come across a mixtape these days that doesn’t leave me bored and uninspired, which is why Living in Harmony (2007) from native Philidelphians Clean Guns is such a breath of fresh air. At 70 minutes it’s almost begging for overkill, yet when listened to in its entirety it feels like half of that. Emcees Knowledge Don and frequent site commenter Zilla Rocca have only one previous full-length in the Clean Guns arsenal, yet this mixtape is so well-constructed one gets the impression that these dudes have been hustling these things for decades. The beat selection is impeccable (with selections ranging from MF Doom to The Neptunes), the pacing is steady, and the pair are careful not to overload the disc with cryptic in-jokes and dull guest spots. Knowledge Don and Zilla spit a seemingly endless stream of sharp metaphors, street slang, and matter-of-fact observations, and each holds his own confidently over some of the more intimidating productions here. I’ll admit that I was tensely anticipating a fumbled punchline or cringeworthy lyric during the course of the mixtape, yet none came; these guys have the craft mastered. Undoubtedly one of the strongest new releases I’ve heard so far this year, Living in Harmony has me thirsty for the duo’s next release, an EP scheduled to drop sometime this fall. (The disc can be purchased for only $6 from the group’s CD Baby site, which is a steal for the amount of quality music contained within. Also, my man Fresh recently conducted a very thorough interview with Zilla over at 33 Jones.)

“The Score” – Clean Guns feat. So S@y 2:40 (Living in Harmony, Beat Garden 2007)

It’s nearly impossible nowadays to get an original sound out of two guitars, a bass, and drums, but damned if San Francisco four-piece Sir Salvatore aren’t trying their hardest to carve their own niche out of the monotony. Their debut EP, Those Men Are Not Astronauts (2007), has a charming lo-fi sloppiness to the playing and some exciting duel-guitar interplay, but ultimately there’s nothing too inventive here. And in a way, it’s the lack of originality that makes it so listenable. The songs are well-written, if a tad callow, but the vibe of the record is reminiscent of those weekend afternoons when you could venture down the street and listen to your high school friends practice in their garage while drinking warm beer on an old mattress. My chief complaint here lies with the vocals, which sound like they were recorded through a ten-dollar Radio Shack microphone – whether this was intentional or not, after two tracks it’s incredibly irritating. Throw these guys in a decent studio with some engineering guidance and a better grasp of song structure, and chances are likely that something very good will happen; in fact, highlights “Hooray This Projector” and closer “Public Key” are already there. The six tracks here show potential, but would have been better left for a more developed and focused full-length. Either way, I’ll be keeping an eye on this band.

“Public Key” – Sir Salvatore 4:54 (Those Men Are Not Astronauts, Tiger Balm Warpaint 2007)

My recent dissection of the beat for Pete Rock’s “In the House” triggered some sort of hunger for All Things Soul Brother, and over the past week I’ve been digging through my vinyl and listening to as many Pete Rock instrumentals that I’ve been able get my hands on. Then I thought, “What if I were to compile an hour-long mix of nothing but Pete Rock beats?” My kneejerk reaction was to immediately discard the idea, reckoning that few people would want to listen to an hour’s worth of instrumentals by a single artist. In the end, I decided to construct the mix anyway for myself, and upload it to the site if anyone else was interested in it. So there’s that. Onto the mix itself.

In addition to adhering to the single-artist ‘theme,’ I set a further restriction: all tracks had to (roughly) be recorded from 1992 to 1994. Not only do I feel that this was Pete Rock’s finest era, but for my purposes here, it gives the mix some uniformity and a coherent musicality that an across-the-board mix would lack. So I selected about 30 or so instrumentals, jotted down some notes, cued up the turntables and checked the levels on my mixer, and went to work. In the end, the mix was nowhere near an hour in length (likely the fault of an insistent bladder) and a handful of cuts fell by the wayside, but I tried to let each track ‘breathe’ for at least a full minute before cueing up the next one. The tempos slowly ascend from 86 bpm to around 100 bpm by the end of the mix. Some of the transitions aren’t as smooth as I’d like them to be, but overall I’m satisfied with it. As always, all tracks are culled from vinyl sources. Enjoy.

”Soul Brother Blends ’92 – ‘94” – Pete Rock 42:23 (April 2007)

Tracklist:

I Got Love
The World Is Yours (Nas)
In the Flesh
Shut ‘Em Down (Public Enemy)
Lots of Lovin’
Searching
Sun Won’t Come Out
Flow On (New Symphony) (Remix) (Lords of the Underground)
I Get Physical
Return of the Mecca
Carmel City
Take You There
In the House
If It Ain’t Rough
Worldwide
For Pete’s Sake
Tell Me
Straighten It Out
Check It Out
On and On
Pass the Mic (Remix) (Da Youngstas)
It’s Like That
Jump Around (Remix) (House of Pain)
They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y.)

Jeff over at Passion of the Weiss and Joey from Straight Bangin’ are putting out a “call to arms” for bloggers to name their top 25 hip hop records of all time, and you know I can’t resist a good list. So here are my Top 25 Favorite Hip Hop Albums Ever, with double emphasis on favorite; were I compiling a Top 25 Greatest you’d find The Chronic (1992) and Straight Outta Compton (1988) somewhere on the list, Ready to Die (1994) would be higher up, and something by OutKast would be somewhere. All great records, sure, but they don’t resonate with me as much as the following. Much like, say, a home appraisal, this list is valid only on the date that it was ‘performed’; it could very likely change tomorrow, though not by much.

25. Slum Village – Fantastic Vol. 2 (Goodvibe 2000)
As a cohesive musical statement, this is Dilla’s shining hour, despite the occasional half-assed attempts at lyricism by the trio. And I’d sacrifice one of my toes in the blink of an eye for an instrumental vinyl copy.

24. Talib Kweli & Hi Tek – Reflection Eternal (Priority 2000)
I pretty much spent the summer of ‘01 playing this album daily; Kweli tends to lull me to sleep these days, but hearing him spit over Hi Tek’s colorful loops is like a shot of adrenaline to my ears.

23. Kool G Rap & DJ Polo – Live and Let Die (Cold Chillin’ 1992)
The greatest gangsta rap album ever recorded that sadly, no one ever talks about. G Rap is absolutely devastating here, his trademark lisp unleashing a frenzy of elaborate metaphors, visceral storytelling, and raunchy sex rhymes that has yet to be equalled in hip hop. The man still holds my vote as the finest lyricist ever to grip a microphone.

22. Gang Starr – Daily Operation (Chrysalis 1992)
It’s tough choosing a favorite from Premier and Guru, but Daily Operation has probably received the most play over the years.

21. Brand Nubian – One for All (Elektra 1990)
While there is certainly some filler on this slighly overlong debut (”Dance to My Minstry”), the summits more than make up for it, and a young Sadat X (then known by his birthname Derek) steals every scene he’s in.

20. Redman – Whut? Thee Album (Def Jam 1992)
A noisy, sloppy, blunted-out stew of dense Funkadelic loops, gutteral bass, and Redman’s psychotic and often hilarious delivery that is still recognized as one of the strongest debuts in the hip hop oeuvre. This somehow sounds better with each passing year.

19. Diamond D – Stunts, Blunts & Hip Hop (Chemistry 1992)
Sure, Diamond wasn’t exactly hip hop’s savior when it came to lyrical skills, but the spare production and laid-back atmosphere made every line sound like gold, no matter how corny or cringe-inducing.

18. Big Daddy Kane – It’s a Big Daddy Thing (Cold Chillin’ 1989)
Kane never really produced a solid, classic album – there were always a few new jack clunkers and pitiful love ballads scattered throughout his earlier records – but when he was at his best, the man was unstoppable. He was at his pinnacle on this sophomore release, although a strong case could be made for his debut Long Live the Kane (1988) and the often overlooked Taste of Chocolate (1990).

17. Eric B. & Rakim – Paid in Full (4th & Broadway 1987)
Again, far from a definitive statement, but the highlights eclipse the flaws. “Eric B. Is President” should be analyzed, studied, and recited in every grade school across the country, a Pledge of Allegiance to hip hop, if you will.

16. Raekwon – Only Built for Cuban Linx (Loud 1995)
Favored by many as the best Wu-affiliated record of all time, Cuban Linx was actually a kind of sleeper album for me; it wasn’t until a few years had passed that I finally grasped the utter brilliance and emotional gravity of this record. Rae was never my top choice as far as Wu emcees go, but his hunger and fiery delivery here is nothing short of amazing, to say nothing of RZA’s production.

15. Common – Resurrection (Relativity 1994)
The most Common elicits from me now is a long rolling of the eyes and maybe a dismissive grunt, but then I remember how phenomenal Resurrection is, and how I used to listen to it religiously to decipher his witticisms and clever turns of phrase.

14. Notorious B.I.G. – Ready to Die (Bad Boy 1994)
One of the most influential statements in hip hop music, and for good reason. No respectable list is complete without this, favorites or otherwise.

13. GZA – Liquid Swords (Geffen 1995)
Top-notch production from RZA and GZA’s intense, calculated flow combined to construct the best of the first string of Wu solo albums. “Shadowboxin’,” “Living in the World Today,” and “Swordsman” still give me chills.

12. Mobb Deep – The Infamous (Loud 1995)
A record that heads still won’t stop talking about. My favorite aspect of The Infamous is Havoc’s snare sounds, which resonate like gunshots off the project tenement walls.

11. Public Enemy – It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back (Def Jam 1988)
Easily one of the top five most important records in hip hop history, with a mid-album trifecta of monumental importance: “She Watch Channel Zero,” “Night of the Living Baseheads,” and the chilling “Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos.”

10. Boogie Down Productions – Criminal Minded (Sugar Hill 1987)
Even a cursory glace at the song titles reveals how massively influential this record was: “South Bronx,” “The Bridge is Over,” “The P Is Free,” hell, every song is a classic. This was one of my first exposures to hip hop, so I attach a certain sentimental value to Criminal Minded, but it’s pretty much mandatory listening regardless.

9. A Tribe Called Quest – The Low End Theory (Jive 1991)
I only asked for one item on my Christmas list back in ‘91: a Low End Theory CD. I had worn my “Check the Rhime” cassette single to shreds, and my only means of hearing Tribe was through the VCR as I replayed the video for “Jazz (We’ve Got)/Buggin’ Out” until the tape deteriorated. It remains the most memorable and rewarding Christmas present of my youth.

8. Ice Cube – Death Certificate (Priority 1991)
AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted (1990) was shocking enough, but no one could have been prepared for the brute sonic force that was Death Certificate. It’s still just as frightening and potent, even if Cube is now spending his days babysitting kids or whatever.

7. De La Soul – De La Soul is Dead (Tommy Boy 1991)
I remember that I bought the cassettes of 3 Feet High and Rising (1989) and De La Soul Is Dead on the same day back in ‘91. I gave 3 Feet more attention at first, immediately won over by its charm and playfulness, but Dead slowly made a much stronger impression on me; I would listen to tracks like “Pease Porridge” and “Millie Pulled a Pistol on Santa” over and over again in my Walkman, memorizing every last word.

6. Wu-Tang Clan – Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) (Loud 1993)
Where were you the first time you heard 36 Chambers? I was in my tenth grade art class, and some kid had brought in a boombox (naturally, he referred to it as his ‘ghettoblaster’) one morning and cued up “Bring da Ruckus” (our teacher didn’t care as long as we left her alone). The room went nuts and I began to get goosebumps as I caught the blast of Ghostface’s hype opening verse; by the time GZA threatened to “bring da fucking ruckus,” I was sold.

5. Nas – Illmatic (Columbia 1994)
I’ll never forget how floored I was the first time I saw the video for “Halftime” on Rap City way back in ‘92. Illmatic belongs here and it’s pointless to argue otherwise. Let’s move on.

4. A Tribe Called Quest – Midnight Marauders (Jive 1993)
I’ve always favored Midnight over Low End Theory; the latter is undeniably a classic, but Midnight just seemed to get better with every listen, plus it had “Electric Relaxation,” one of the greatest hip hop cuts ever laid to wax. And every song after that is phenomenal, from “Clap Your Hands” through “God Lives Through,” the best second half of a record in modern times. When was the last time a hip hop album was this consistently great?

3. Jeru the Damaja – The Sun Rises in the East (Payday 1994)
I’m still not entirely sure why I’ve always been so enamoured with The Sun Rises in the East. There is just an intrinsic chemistry between Jeru’s choppy, gruff delivery and Premier’s gritty production (arguably at his finest here) that is simply unparalleled in hip hop, and I savor every minute of it. Nothing sounds better on a cold November evening than this.

2. Black Sheep – A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing (Mercury 1991)
A full 70 minutes long and I still can’t get enough of it. I have this recurring dream where I’m sifting through vinyl in some musty basement store and come across a white-labeled double-LP of outtakes from A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing. A record that spoke to me in every regard back in middle school and is still a refreshing listen, despite knowing every single word, vocal nuance, inflection, looped sample, and drum break. There will never be another album like this, or at least as brilliant.

1. Public Enemy – Fear of a Black Planet (Def Jam 1990)
The most influential record of my life, an album that single-handedly shaped how I listen to sound and interpret it. Even now, hundreds – and I mean literally hundreds – of listens later, I’ll hear a snippet of sound that somehow passed by undetected all these years, whether it’s a subtle horn line, an isolated rim shot, or a faint guitar lick. Every second of this record holds my attention in a way that no other album has been able to achieve.

The Emotions “So I Can Love You” So I Can Love You Stax 1970

At long last, spring has arrived in New England. As I sit here typing this the windows are open for the first time in months, allowing for a barely-detectable breeze to creep into the room and invite my attention to the 66-degree weather outside. There are hundreds of songs and records that I’ve filed away for occasions like this, those few times a year when a drastic change in the weather signals an entirely new batch of music in regular rotation. Yet out of all the choices I have to celebrate with, there’s only one song that I want to hear, a three-minute chunk of Soul perfection that can be enjoyed best on a day like today. I’m referring, of course, to the title track from The Emotions‘ first long-player on Stax, titled So I Can Love You (1970).

Long before Maurice White took them under his wing and “Best of My Love” was pumping out of the disco clubs across the country, the Hutchinson sisters released a pair of gospel-inflected LPs on the Stax/Volt label at the dawn of the ’70s. Lead vocalist Shelia penned the album opener “So I Can Love You,” which was produced by Isaac Hayes and David Porter – in fact, all evidence suggests that Hayes is the one providing those gleeful organ leaps found here. It’s the strange little idiosyncrasies that allow me to listen to this track a dozen times in a row without tiring of it: the quirky horn arrangement, the double-timed drums during the pre-chorus, the questionable harmonies in Jeannette and Wanda’s backing vocals. The song is also one of the finest examples of how to of place instruments across the stereo field that I’ve ever heard. Treat yourself to “So I Can Love You” on a warm spring morning and observe your surrounding evironment change in a matter of seconds: the headache from the hangover subsides, the energy levels increase after a restless night’s sleep, that pain-in-the-ass commute becomes a little more tolerable. It’s that good, I assure you.

“So I Can Love You” – The Emotions 2:50 (So I Can Love You, Stax 1970)

Most couples I know have that one unrealistic celebrity exclusion when it comes to their faithfulness to each other, a sort of ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card of infidelity shared between the two. For my wife, it usually see-saws between John Legend and Mos Def, depending on her mood, although recently she’s been entertaining the wild notion of naming our first-born Talib. As for me, for as long as I can remember, my makebelive affections have always centered around Sade, without question. Try to sit through her Live Concert Home Video (1994) in its entirety and tell me Helen Folasade Adu is anything shy of a goddess. Yet I’ll sheepishly admit that over the years there have been a handful of instances where I’ve actually questioned my devotion to her, where I’ve found myself wondering: was I in love with Sade or just completely enamoured with her band?

One of the most rewarding aspects of listening to Sade’s music is the impression one gets of the interplay between the members of the group, those telepathic channels that strengthen over time between the musicians as they write and perform their material. It would be all too easy to categorize Sade as a pretty face backed by a few guys looking for a paycheck, but such was never the case in their music, despite her alluring presence and unequivocal command of the stage. While there was never a ’secret weapon’ in the band, if I had to choose the most crucial element to their sound (excepting Sade herself, of course), that designation would go to bassist and proprietor of exotic fashion Paul S. Denman. His wonderfully imaginative lines, admirable restraint, and warm, embracing tone was the element that the rest of the group orbited around, and the man could command a groove in a way that would make James Jamerson proud. The following are five of my favorite Denman basslines, with the requisite notation for the fellow music geeks.

Note: While compiling this list, I didn’t deliberately intend to exclude any selections from Diamond Life (1984) or Promise (1985); my top five just happened to be from my two favorite records of the group, Stronger than Pride (1988) and the near-flawless Love Deluxe (1992).

5. “Nothing Can Come Between Us”
From Stronger Than Pride (Epic 1988)

Although I have little recollection of hearing it on the radio when I was younger, “Nothing Can Come Between Us” was a fairly successful single, reaching #3 on the R&B charts in 1988. It’s also one of the few Sade tracks where Denman overdubs his bass, starting with a brief lick that can be heard at 0:04 and continuing into the verse. Following the first chorus at 1:15, he then overdubs yet another bass track, a quick slap-pop pattern that adds a nice sharp color to the mix. As if all of this wasn’t impressive enough, at 2:47 he begins thumbing the line above to ride out the coda, a sexy, slinky pattern that works magically with the simple drum groove. My interaction with this song consists solely of waiting for this bassline to appear, and the wait is always worth it.

“Nothing Can Come Between Us” – Sade 4:18 (Stronger Than Pride, Epic 1988)

4. “Cherish the Day”
From Love Deluxe (Epic 1992)

In an ideal world, “Cherish the Day” would be the main substitute for those prevalent Levitra and Viagra commercials that are inescapable on television, such is its aprodisiacal potency. A generous portion of its effect has to be attributed to Denman’s dubby bassline, which, in an impressive display of restraint, doesn’t even make its appearance until 1:35. He injects a moaning four-note lick periodically throughout the track, but it’s the muted, roller-coaster pattern that dominates the track and propels it forward. Denman’s tone here is felt more than heard, a vague presence that benefits the mysterious and sensual atmosphere tremendously.

“Cherish the Day” – Sade 5:34 (Love Deluxe, Epic 1988)

3. “Keep Looking”
From Stronger Than Pride (Epic 1988)

I’ll never figure out why “Keep Looking” wasn’t chosen as a single; its brisk tempo (for the group, anyway) and percolating Latin groove are impossible to resist. Again, Denman dominates with a brilliantly thought-out four-bar pattern that supports both Andrew Hale’s organ and Stuart Matthewman’s interjections from his acoustic guitar. The only variation occurs at 1:22 following the first chorus, underscoring a curious eight-bar section that is never explored for the rest of the track. Denman’s line establishes the tonal center of E minor, a sort of pedal that is altered depending on the chord; note how the third bar consists of a fixed repetition of D, which helps build a tension that is released in the fourth bar. It’s ingenious in its simplicity, and could theoretically carry the song for another twenty minutes.

“Keep Looking” – Sade 5:22 (Stronger Than Pride, Epic 1988)

2. “Paradise”
From Stronger Than Pride (Epic 1988)

“Paradise” was one of the group’s most successful singles, reaching #1 on the R&B charts. Is there any question as to why it was such a popular hit? Two chords, a verse and a chorus, a simple drum pattern, and that circular, one-bar bassline that carries the weight for the entire duration of the song. Part of its effectiveness can be attributed to the three bass drum hits that fall into the groove, adding a thick punch whenever Denman plucks the root note (in this case, an F natural). His tone here is wonderful, with a syrupy color that almost sounds like a fretless bass, inviting and slightly menacing at once. Despite its apparent simplicity, this line is actually tough to play due to the left hand’s position and the tension of the strings at the lower neck of the bass, and requires a healthy amount of stamina to pull off for more than a few minutes. “Paradise” is one of those songs that I could listen to once a day for the rest of my life and never tire of it.

“Paradise” – Sade 4:02 (Stronger Than Pride, Epic 1988)

1. “Kiss of Life”
From Love Deluxe (Epic 1992)

Arguably the group’s finest moment, “Kiss of Life” is the centerpiece of Love Deluxe and has become a staple of every concert they have performed since. Here Denman is given some flexibility with his role, adhering to the groove yet deviating off course on occasion for moments of ridiculously tasteful fills; I’m reminded of a child on a trail who can’t resist the sudden urge to dance through the trees before returning to the path. His line works so well chiefly because Denman relies on the root and the fifth to structure his line around; folks, you simply cannot go wrong with this technique, regardless of what kind of music you’re playing. He more or less sticks to the same eight-bar figure as shown above during the verse and coda, with slight variations: the beautiful arching lick in the second bar, the long open descent in bar five, and the quick jumps to the fifth in bar six before returning to his basic pattern. Any other bassist would go nuts over a groove like this, but Denman characteristically restrains from overplaying, choosing the most natural moments to insert a quick dash of flavor in the mix. Oh, and his tone? Absolutely delicious. When Sade exhales, “Look at the sky, it’s the color of love,” she’s got to be referring to Denman’s bassline.

“Kiss of Life” – Sade 5:48 (Love Deluxe, Epic 1988)