My mentioning of AZ’s Doe or Die (1995) a few weeks ago when presenting a handful of hip hop-related conversation-enders sparked a recent reawakening of my appreciation for the album, despite its front-loaded nature and hit-or-miss production.  Today I thought I’d tackle one of Pete Rock’s two productions on the record, the Nas-assisted “Gimme Yours,” whose remix was also released as a second single (and produced by the Soul Brother).  I haven’t dissected a beat in quite some time and could always use more entries in the Pete Rock Appreciation Society – shout to Dan Love.

Lyrically, “Gimme Yours” hardly deviates from the street-Mafioso content that defines Doe or Die, or as our narrator succinctly puts it, “rolling trees, stacking Gs.” Nas makes his first of two appearances on the record (the second being the DR Period-helmed “Mo Money, Mo Murder, Mo Homicide”), though he eschews dropping a verse here for merely singing the hook with a blunted, half-conscious inflection.  Pete, following the release of his second full-length with CL Smooth and who was likely working on the Deda and InI records at the time, contributed a track that was typical of his production style then, namely lush, almost saccharine soul samples floating atop rugged drum loops, with little of the chopping and arranging of micro-snippets that would dominate his work toward at the end of the decade.

For “Gimme Yours” Pete resurrects an old Minnie Riperton single, 1980’s “Here We Go,” released just after her death and featuring a posthumously-recorded vocal from Peabo Bryson.  Pete focuses on the four bars of melodic content from 0:21 to 0:33 on the original, where Minnie’s first verse begins and the drums drop out to reveal a harp and synthesizer.  Wisely (given the general public’s familiarity with Riperton’s unique voice), the producer extracts the music between her vocals, most notably a descending arpeggio from the harp at the conclusion of the fourth bar in the original.  Perhaps realizing its sonic prominence, Pete then inserts the arpeggio in the first bar of the loop, and its diminished harmonic color contrasts nicely with the warmth of the Abmaj7 chord.  The E natural and G flat from the arpeggio appear again in the second bar to add some flavor to the harmonically-ambiguous Bb chord, a dreamlike effect that’s heightened by the fluttering Cm7 chord that concludes the loop.  The buzz of the synthesizer is faintly detectable in the mix, though its role seems to enhance rather than complement the harp.  I’m not familiar enough with the logistics of the harp to know for sure whether or not this passage is actually playable, but to these ears it’s some aural candy that’s hard to resist, and the track’s three-minute runtime is all-too-brief because of it.

“Here We Go” – Minnie Riperton feat. Peabo Bryson 4:04 (Love Lives Forever, Capitol 1980)

“Gimme Yours” – AZ feat. Nas 3:08 (Doe or Die, EMI 1995)

Though I’ve always been more of a Step in the Arena (1991) and Daily Operation (1992)-type of dude, I’m still taken aback by how good Gang Starr’s Moment of Truth (1998) is every time I hear it. Which is slightly absurd, given my near-decade of familiarity with it and the ‘classic’ tag it has arguably been given by the general populace over the years. Moment of Truth has essentially become my own brand of noise pollution to the public these days, as I am wont to blare “The Militia” and “Work” out of my car speakers with all windows down on the first 70+ degree day of the year; if my side and rear view mirrors aren’t buzzing with distorted reflections on every kick hit, it’s not loud enough. That’s right. Public nuisance-style.

Yet the other day, as I was forcibly subjecting the citizens of Boston to my favorite cuts from the album, I was suddenly struck by how playable Premier’s beats were – and by “playable” I don’t mean “MPC-programmable,” but more applicable to live instrumentation in a small group setting. Granted, one could argue that most hip hop beats could actually be replicated to a certain extent by real musicians, a somewhat obvious point given its sample-based aesthetic. Still, there is something about Preemo’s musicality and approach to production on Moment of Truth that lends itself to transcription more so than, say, his jazzier leanings on Gang Starr’s earlier records and the stark, often atonal sound collages from his mid-’90s work with Jeru and Group Home. Here are four of the more notable selections.

“You Know My Steez”

Premier’s reconfiguration of the intro to Joe Simon’s “Drowning in the Sea of Love” forms the basis for Moment’s opening cut, which is guided by a drum track constructed from those classic Grandmaster Flash beatbox drums. Other than a brief trombone swell lifted from the Simon sample, that’s about it, but there are two distinct features of note here (disregarding the fact that there is no bass line). First, from a sonic perspective, “You Know My Steez” possesses the unique characteristic of sounding spacious and claustrophobic at once, the chunks of guitar octaves colliding with the slightly distorted, overcompressed kicks of the drum track. Secondly – and this is purely subjective – but to these ears, the guitar ‘melody’ appears to be arranged backwards; the bars should be flipped so that the stuttering F# pattern should follow the rising and swelling motif in the previous bar. Yet not only does Preemo’s ‘reversed’ interpretation work marvelously, it gives the two-bar loop a circularity that a more logical arrangement would lack when repeated for more than 16 bars. Guru seems particularly inspired by the music, showcasing, in this author’s opinion, his finest lyrical moment on wax.

“You Know My Steez” – Gang Starr 3:44 (Moment of Truth, Noo Trybe 1998)

“Above the Clouds”

“Above the Clouds” is proof positive that the the art of creating music from sampled sound extends far beyond a cracked copy of Fruity Loops and snippets of imported audio from a few CDs. The best beatsmiths all have an unidentifiable ability to ‘hear’ arrangements and musical structures from the most unlikely of sources and recycle those sounds into something their own. Premier, unsurprisingly, is one of these individuals. His production for “Above the Clouds” is absolutely brilliant and ranks among the finest of his career; how someone could make something this bangin’ out of the first few seconds of John Dankworth’s “Two-Piece Flower” is beyond mortal comprehension (I’ve offered the original source below for this example).

Incidentally, “Above the Clouds” lends itself surprisingly well to transcription, despite its overall weirdness and the audible repeated triggering of selected samples in the beat. What sounds like a shamisen on the original recording could be played by a palm-muted and slightly flat guitar, and two oboes would be required – a tad unorthodox, yes, but crucial for the counterpoint in the latter half of the second bar (unless a polyphonic oboe can be found as a substitute, of course). Premier wisely chooses to leave the bottom end open, only inserting two emphatic bass hits to signal the loop; he’s cleverly reminding you that it’s there, but he’s not going to clutter the track with it. Note the 32nd-note pinched kicks before the first and third beats, which give the track a sense of propulsion that the more common 16th note pinches would lack, as well as help enforce the impression that the tempo is faster than it actually is (roughly 86 bpm). It’s hardly surprising that Inspectah Deck straight-up destroys this cut with a verse that surpasses any of the other guest spots on the record.

“Above the Clouds” – Gang Starr feat. Inspectah Deck 3:41 (Moment of Truth, Noo Trybe 1998)

“Two-Piece Flower” – John Dankworth 4:04 (John Dankworth and His Music, Fontana 1967)

Bonus link: Try to play the melody from “Above the Clouds” on this virtual shamisen! Fun!

“Itz a Set Up”

Most of the fodder for the suspenseful “Itz a Set Up” derives from keyboardist Les McCann’s “Beyond Yesterday.” The two-bar loop begins with a sequence of two- and three-note clumps from a parallel guitar and bass lick, followed by a brief stab of electric piano, then concludes with the soft trilling of a trumpet for the final three beats. Premier keeps the drum track relatively straightforward to prevent any clashing with the three distinct colors from the other instruments, though he can’t resist adding some shuffle to the hi-hat track in the second beat of each bar. One gets the slight feeling that he could have constructed something like this in his sleep, but regardless, the music would have fit right at home on M.O.P.’s Firing Squad (1996) or even Jeru’s Wrath of the Math (1996). “Itz a Set Up” is also one of the handful of tracks on Moment that would sound amazing as interpreted by El Michels Affair (on a limited-edition 7″, no less).

“Itz a Set Up” – Gang Starr feat. Hannibal 3:49 (Moment of Truth, Noo Trybe 1998)

“The Rep Grows Bigga”

One of the highlights during the second half of Moment of Truth is “The Rep Grows Bigga,” a choice example of what Preemo could do with a piano, a drum track, and little else. When transcribed, the music reveals a wealth of subtle complexities that a cursory listen would fail to notice. The foundation of the track is a looming, inescapable piano that stomps down on each beat and would grow incredibly tiring in the first minute were it not for Premier’s drum track, which takes advantage of those 32nd-note pinched kicks and a well-placed hit just before the fourth beat of each bar. The harmony is about as basic as it gets, a i - v progression that almost screams “open-close” every two beats; note the mangled dissonance of the second chord with the addition of the B natural.

The tonality changes on every eighth bar with the appearance of an odd Eb diminished chord, which is introduced chromatically and decorated with a brief flurry of notes. It’s a terrific way to bring a sense of closure to the somewhat static seven bars before it, and curious unresolved nature of the chord helps to keep the listener engaged.

“The Rep Grows Bigga” Gang Starr 3:31 (Moment of Truth, Noo Trybe 1998)