One of Large Professor's best beatworks. Notice how the drums and the sample move together. Each drum sound is it's own sample, yet when this song came out, many critics of sampling could not (did not) distinguish the individual drum hits. Instead, they were described as being simply "a part of the sampled riff." The point was that this song "lacked" creativity...
Looking back, I remember how I thought to myself that once critics start to challenge the creativity of drum patterns/programs, sampling would really come under attack by other beatmakers/producers... Unfortunately, I was right. Anyway, enjoy this slice of time.
- Sa'id
Music, easily one of the most important components of American culture, is everywhere: radito, t.v., the internet. So you'd think that recording artists, the bedrock of music itself, are well-paid. Think again. Sure, some of the A-List recording artists score fat royalty checks, (in addition to huge concert/show paydays). But the overwhelming majority of recording artists (the the B,C, D-list and even some A-list artists) never see a royalty check throughout their entire recording career.
The reason why most recording artists never see a royalty check is because the music business is (and has always been) a legalized form of loan-sharking. The comparison of a bank loan is the most popular analogy of how paydays to artists work in the music business. The idea is that a record label loans money to a recording artist for the purpose of creating new art. When this new art is marketed and sold, there is a split in profits between the label and the artists. The split is typically 88 to 92% for the label, and 8 to 12% percent for the artist. In other words, artists routinely sign a deal that gives them a base rate of 8 to 12 cents on the dollar. Throw in a 5 cent royalty for each song that an artist writes on the album, and a recording artist can earn up to 40 or 60 cents per album. But slow down, it's important to remember that the newly created art belongs 100% to the label, (unless some proportional agreement is made to stipulate otherwise, which of course is extremely rare). Though the artist is entitled (supposedly) to a cut of the returns, there is no split in ownership
between the labels and the artist! And as such, it is the labels right to withhold royalty payments or rather apply them to the debt of the artist (all monies the label spent on the artist) until it is resolved. When an artist has repaid his entire budget they are said to be fully recouped. But typically, artists never fully recoup. And thus, it's very common that artists wind up owing their label indefinitely!
This is why the bank loan analogy is grossly inadequate. A bank loan for consumers with the most despicable credit scores is more favoring than the loan terms that recording artists routinely agree to in a standard recording contract. For example, when a person with absolutely flawless or appalling credit receives a car loan, they gain 100% total use of a new/used car. For all intensive purposes, the car belongs to them. At anytime within the agreement, this person can refinance or actually sell the car. And at the end of the agreement, the car belongs to them free and clear. In the music business, recording artists almost NEVER own their work, even after the initial agreement that they entered in is long over. Even worse, the only actual right to use that artists retain of the music that they create is the right to perform it at concerts and such. They can not however resell it!
Check out DJ Jazzy Jeff (pre-Will Smith Hollywood fame) as he talks about the highs and lows of winning a Grammy.
Think about when you call customer service for anything. Now think about how the conversation typically goes. Is there a difference in service when you get someone who "sounds black?" Well, according to a recent linguistic study by Jeffrey Grogger of the University of Chicago, there is a difference--a big difference. In fact, he says that "sounding black" can cost as much as 10% in lost wages! Click here to read the entire New York Times article on "sounding black".
Before I fell in love with Denise from the Cosby Show, I was devoted to
Charlene from Diff'rent Strokes. O.K., let me clarify that: I was
convinced that Charlene and I would get married. In my mind, Charlene
really didn't even like Willis. She just liked Mr. Drummond's
penthouse and all the perks and amenities that came with dating a rich
kid. Even though I was only 8, when Charlene and Willis started
rollin' together, I knew I had an advantage. I was a tough young kid.
My knuckle game was serious, and I had a natural sense of the streets.
So I figured all I had to do was show Charlene that I was real, cuz
Willis was a cornball. I mean, the Willis from episodes 1 & 2 ('78
through '80) was bout it. But by season 3, ('81), around the time when
he and Arnold had taken to calling Mr. Drummond "Dad', he had become
soft and he had forgotten his Harlem roots. Needless to say, I
suffered through their relationship, mad at the fact that Charlene
wasn't with who she really deserved: me.
Landing the role of Charlene Dupre must have been just what a young
Janet Jackson (she was 14 at the time of her debut) was always looking
for. After a regular role on the 70s breakout hit, Good Times, she was
poised to break out from underneath her famous big brothers' shadow, most notably
Michael's. However, not even a full 2 years later, her chart for
imminent stardom was abruptly cut short by the force that was Thriller!
On November 13, 1982, two weeks before Michael Jackson's uber classic album Thriller
was released, younger sister Janet appeared on Diff'rent Strokes for
the 7th time. Undoubtedly, for a sibling struggling to get out from
underneath another sibling's extraordinary shadow, Thriller's incredible success, along with Michael's promotion to the world's biggest pop star, must have been a huge blow to Janet Jackson's own personal quest for higher recognition. In fact, It
would be more than a year later (early 1984) before Janet Jackson would
make another appearance on Diff'rent Strokes. But by then the show
had already begun to lose it's appeal. In 1985, NBC canceled Diff'rent
Strokes, without any warning and without a proper send off. However, the
show did manage to get quickly picked up by ABC for its sixth and final
season. More importantly, Janet Jackson's "Charlene" was finally
written in as a regular cast member (ironically, it was during this
season that Charlene and Willis broke up). On March 4, 1986, Janet
Jackson released Control, a critically important and wildly
successful album that would eventually help take her a few more steps
away from brother Michael's daunting shadow. Three days after the
release of Control, the production set of Diff'rent Strokes shut down for good.
Having successfully dodged the misfortunes and demons that captured
fellow cast members Todd Bridges (Willis), Dana Plato (Kimberly), and
Gary Coleman (Arnold), Janet Jackson would go on to finally escape from
her big brother's shadow. After 1986's Control, 1989 brought the release of Rhythm Nation 1814, a
strange but effective concept album that cemented Janet Jackson's
influence on pop culture forever. If we blame Michael Jackson for the
red, turbo-zippered "Thriller jacket", then we damn sure gotta blame
Janet Jackson for that dumb ass black military cap with the doofy metal plate in
the front.
In 1993, Janet Jackson released Janet, her 5th studio album. Here, it
is important to note that in that very same year, she butchered a John
Singleton script, and nearly sabotaged a good Tupac performance in the
movie Poetic Justice. Four years later she dropped The Velvet Rope,
(a well-over due apology for the wreckage she caused in Poetic
Justice). Another four more years, another release. However, Janet
Jackson's 7th studio album, All for You, would prove to signal the end of her influence on pop culture.
There will never be another character like Charlene-- pretty,
naturally shy with an uncertainty in her biggest talent. Nawgh, that
wasn't acting for Janet Jackson. And though I'm still tight about the
episode where Willis and Charlene planned to do it for the first time,
I'm comforted by the realization that 20 years ago I wasn't watching
Janet Jackson play Charlene, I was tuning in to watch Charlene play
Janet Jackson.
Charlene (Janet Jackson) from Different Strokes (favorite).
Charlene (Janet Jackson) from Diff'rent Strokes (2nd favorite).
For as long as I can remember, the tradition of singing "Happy Birthday To You" has existed. I was first indoctrinated into this distinctly American cultural tradition when I was three years old. Well, at least that's my first memory of hearing the song being sung. But the reality is, the tradition of singing the "Happy Birthday" song to the birthday boy or girl dates back to 1893.
Written by two American sisters--Patty and Mildred J. Hill--while they were both school teachers in Louisville, KY, "Happy Birthday to You", or simply "Happy Birthday", went on to become the traditional song sung in America to mark the anniversary of someone's birth. The tradition had grown so strong that by the middle of the 20th century, it was already the most popular song in the English language. But the "Happy Birthday" song holds far greater significance than it's sheer popularity.
In an unbearably long and dark period in America, where overt racism and legalized segregation governed the day, the "Happy Birthday" song was one of very few cultural traditions that was truly integrated. In black and white homes alike, the "Happy Birthday" song was the song that family and friends used to mark the anniversary of the birth of someone dear to them. This simple, but oh so enduring lyric, required no music or any special singing skills. In fact, anyone with a pulse and a voice could croon out the "Happy Birthday" song and make it sound great; and if you happened to be the birthday boy or girl being honored, it sounded magnificent no matter who was singing it. So as it was, sometime around my 5th or 6th birthday, I consciously allowed myself to be inducted into the "Happy Birthday" phenomenon. Little did I know that by my 7th birthday, I would once again be inducted into a new "Happy Birthday" phenomenon.
In 1980, (nearly 90 years after the inception of "Happy Birthday"), singer (and then social activist) Stevie Wonder released Hotter Than July, his biggest selling and perhaps most pivotal recording to date. Among the many hit singles on the album, was the gem of a little ditty called "Happy Birthday". At the time, Wonder was one of the key figures of the campaign to have the Martin Luther King, Jr. day become a national holiday. As a means for drawing more attention and energy to the cause, Wonder fashioned his own new interpolation of an old American tradition into a pop song. In effect, he transformed the "Happy Birthday", (originally written by two white kindergarten teachers), into a global celebration of Martin Luther King, Jr., (a black man and one of the greatest persons America ever produced).
Nearly anyone who has ever sang "Happy Birthday" over a cake and the like has done so a cappella, that is, without musical accompaniment. So on the face of it, this odd re-conceptualizing and re-rendering of a great American tradition sounds unbelievable, indeed impossible... However, drawing on his influence from Bob Marley and African-based musics of the time, wonder created a soulful, upbeat arrangement that reconfigured the idea of the "Happy Birthday" song into an uplifting cry for social/human recognition, national achievement, and plain old fashion fun.
On November 2, 1983, the Martin Luther King, Jr. Day holiday was signed into existence by President Ronald Reagan. As a pre-teen growing up listening to and singing along with Stevie Wonder's "Happy Birthday", the underscoring significance and magnitude was nearly lost on me. On one hand, I had recognized the fact that for many black Americans, Stevie Wonder's version of "Happy Birthday" had replaced one tradition with another. With its intuitively celebrative rhythm and soulful rephrasing of the main happy birthday lyric, one could easily understand how and why it displaced the Hill sister's original rendition. But it was the full impact and underlying power that Wonder's "Happy Birthday" was able to provide, in addition to its get-up-and-boogie style quality, that perhaps stuck with me the most.
Birthday party memories of punch, drunk uncles and aunts, and kids playing and running around like recess had been officially rescinded by the Supreme Court, still dart through my mind regularly. But when I think about all of the fun and cheer that Stevie Wonder's "Happy Birthday" provided, I can't help but smile at how he was able to sneak in some knowledge at the very same time.
Tang, "the instant breakfast drink with more Vitamin C than orange juice." That was the marketing pitch of this wildly popular American soft drink. But for a kid growing up in the late 70s, I always thought it was a kind of special kool aid. Tang was originally introduced by the General Foods Corporation in 1957, but it didn't gain popularity until the late 60s, when NASA astronauts started using it on manned spaceflights (a fact well marketed by General Foods).
For me, it wasn't the vitamin C pitch. And I could've cared less if spacewalkers were drinking it or not. No. Tang represented something far more greater: freedom! Tang was one of the first things that I was allowed to make on my own. As the story goes, I was addicted to Tang. It wasn't just a "breakfast drink" to me, it was the drink of all drinks. I drank it all day. It was better than orange flavored Nehi Soda, orange flavored Kool Aid, and RC Cola (all of which I was known for neutralizing on site). So, tired of me hounding her to mix it up, (Tang required a very careful chemical mix of the orange powdered crystals and fresh water), my mother yelled back to me one late morning: "make it yourself!" Therein began an addiction that would prove to be unbeatable... that is until the advent of Haribo gummie bears, some 10 years later.
"For many young males and females residing in America's inner cities, gangs are temporary solutions, not ultimate resolutions, to a long term, systematic problem caused by grossly inequitable socio-economic realities."
To thousands of blacks across America in the 40s and 50s, Dooley Wilson was a hero. He was not king of the ring. He didn't steal home and bring a different kind of fame to the Dodgers. He wasn't a pulitzer caliber author. He wasn't a jazz giant--couldn't even play the piano (which may come as a shock to those who know the name Dooley Wilson). No. Dooley Wilson's role was subtle. He was the actor that played Sam in the cinematic classic Casablanca.
In 1942, the year Casablanca bowed to audiences in America, African-American (black) images in cinema were terribly distorted and inherently racist. If it wasn't routine depictions of black males as servants or shiftless, lazy, illiterate, good-for-nothing-other-than-"cheap"-laborers, it was routine depictions of black females as equally illiterate mammies or tragic exotic mulatto figures. But in many of the all-black movie houses across the country, people would make the projectionist stop and rerun "Sam's part" over and over again. Speaking about the role of Sam in Casablanca, groundbreaking filmmaker Melvin Van Peebles says: "It was the only time I ever saw a Black character go through an entire movie without having to give a speech about equality-coming-soon, or kiss-but."
For Melvin Van Peebles, and countless blacks at the time, Sam represented a positive image of blacks. In just a bit role, Dooley Wilson portrayed Sam as a man of dignity. Though Sam was merely just the piano player at Rick's Cafe, he wasn't a but-kisser. He wasn't shiftless or illiterate; he was dignified, informed, and above all, he was a man!
*It's important to note that the existence of all black movie theaters (30-50 years ago) was more out of necessity than desire. Spawned by the deep (government-backed) segregation and the ever lingering wounds and psychological effects of slavery, all black movie houses provided the only opportunity for blacks to see movies.
Dooley Wilson
Rick, Lisa, and Sam (Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman, Dooley Wilson) having a drink together.
