The cult of the mash-up has enjoyed popularity of late due to the rise in availability of easy to use software. But the basic concept of 'the remix' has it's roots in something far older than Ableton. Historically, folk music relied upon certain pieces which were passed down and reinterpreted. A DJ's role is no different. Scouring an archive, reinterpreting. It's a similarly communal experience, rewardng those who pay attention. Faces on the dancefloor light up as they recognise a sample. From a DJ's perspective, such reappropriation can be a safe bet. And here's where it gets problematic.
The '30s edition' is, no doubt, enjoyable. Who wouldn't care to listen to Cab Calloway croon over 'Minnie the Moocher' or reminiscise for the 'Big Rock Candy Mountain'? And if Louis Armstrong's ode to 'Cheesecake' doesn't elicit a smile on first listen, you're incapable of human joy. The problem with this mix is not the source material, it's in the lack of imagination applied to it. DJ Shadow and Cut Chemist applied a limited scope and acheived maximum results with their 'Product Placement' tour- through juxtaposition of samples. Yoda, however, seems content merely to apply morose beats and spoken word samples. It's a surprisingly lazy effort that would make Kool Herc shudder. Like all you have to do is spin an LP and drop a drum-loop on it.
I kept hoping for something engaging: a Robert Johnson riff against a Raekwon a-capell. Thelonius Monk vs Biggie. Instead, almost-verbatim reperformances. Maybe this mix wasn't intended for these discerning ears- perhaps it's meant for people who can only listen to vintage music once it's been co-opted into a known style. Something that goes against the very premise of being a DJ. If Yoda can craft a career from putting beats on records, fair play. But if kids can't listen to the originals on their own merit, then I despair.
First published in Planet Notion.
No comments:
Post a Comment