MNZ: Waxpoetics No. 29

I still have this peach crate-ized beside the toilet, because I haven’t read the 30,000 words on Herbie Hancock or Spoonie Gee yet, but I dug the Pete Rock interview a lot (as well as the piece on obscure soulman cum Jesus fan Lee Fields). It’s felt to me like people have gotten far too serious about the hip hop producer in recent years, getting all ga-ga over instrumentals and treating people like J. Dilla and Madlib like they’re Coltrane and Miles or some shit. Which is not to say they’re not great musically-minded individuals, but a guy like Madlib comes across to me more like a Ry Cooder, always dabbling in new shit, always trying to find a high, and making a bunch of music that’s good background sounds, but not really something you’re gonna claim as one of your five favorite albums of all-time. And there’s nothing wrong with that at all. But I think in the backlash from the era when music critic people didn’t consider hip hop a bonafide form of music, people overly value the creative genius of hip hop beatmakers nowadays. I mean, sure Polow da Don made some banging tracks, but really all he’s doing is what any shitty German synth player from 1984 would do, but with some extra 808 kicks thrown in. Still, the Pete Rock interview in here made me happy, because for me, I think that era from like ‘87 through around ‘93 or ‘94 was the penultimate time period (thus far) for hip hop sounds. But what does I know; I ain’ts nothing but a lowly whiteboy. I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout birthin’ no dope beats.
Also, as an aside, for those who used to fuck around with dumpin.net, “T.R.O.Y.” was number two on the all-time hot hip hop jamz list we never finished writing about. When we had that happen, it didn’t have the same “moment of brilliance” meme that’s been attached to it ever since, which I find odd. Did we start that? Or was it bound to happen anyways? Now, being contrarians, I bet both Mike Dikk and me would feel like tools to have it number two, but that’s where it fell when our crack staff of crackheads put it together. But don’t tell anybody, in case we do finish writing those blurbs one day.