"I don't battle anymore! I uplift motherfuckers!" - GZA
Thursday, September 04, 2008,2:48 AM
That 70's Jazz (for the Discriminating Rapper)
By J. D. CONSIDINE
IN their quest for rare grooves and ear-catching hooks, hip-hop D.J.'s do a lot of digging through old LP's. Anything is fair game, from classic R & B hits to corny movie soundtracks. But for many D.J.'s, nothing confers sophistication better than jazz.
Rap fans and jazz fans value markedly different things in their music, of course. You won't find many samples from John Coltrane, Thelonious Monk or Charlie Parker on rap albums. But you will find quite a few from George Benson, Bob James, Stanley Turrentine and Grover Washington.
What do these artists have in common? From a D.J. perspective, the answer is simple: they all recorded for CTI (or one of its subsidiaries), a label founded in the the late 1960's by the well-known producer Creed Taylor. Rappers from Run D.M.C. to LL Cool J to Snoop Dogg have all sampled CTI's stylish, groove-driven recordings. In fact, the label has gained a cachet among hip-hop D.J.'s, in part because its catalog has only sporadically been available since the introduction of the CD in the late 1980's.
But that situation may change: Sony Legacy reissued eight titles earlier this month, including albums by Mr. Benson, Mr. Turrentine, Milt Jackson and Antonio Carlos Jobim. Seven more are planned for this summer. Even so, dozens of CTI albums remain out of print.
The unavailability of CTI's catalog is especially puzzling given the label's great commercial success in the 1970's. It's best-known albums, like Mr. Washington's ''Mr. Magic'' and Mr. James's ''BJ4,'' were not just successful by the standards of jazz; they were also bona fide pop hits, often climbing high in the album charts. The label even released a few hit singles, notably Eumir Deodato's 1973 revamping of ''Also Sprach Zarathustra,'' the theme from the movie ''2001: A Space Odyssey.'' It went to No. 2 on the Billboard pop charts despite having an all-star jazz lineup.
That such success didn't win Mr. Taylor more friends in jazz is instructive. Where many jazz musicians wanted their music to be more like high art -- oblique, austere, intellectually demanding -- Mr. Taylor believed that jazz, having started out as popular music, ought to maintain a connection to a broader audience. His credo was that when cut off from its pop roots, jazz withers and dies.
By and large, Mr. Taylor's productions stressed recognizable tunes (often pop hits at the time or light classical favorites), sturdy, straightforward grooves and slick, hi-fidelity recordings. Jazz snobs carped that many of those values were middlebrow, pandering to commercial tastes. (When Steely Dan imported those qualities into rock, critics applauded.)
Mr. Taylor nonetheless managed to assemble a stable of first-rate talent -- including Paul Desmond, Freddie Hubbard and Chet Baker -- and to make the sound sell. His success shouldn't have been that surprising. Initially a trumpeter, he began his career in jazz production in 1954. A decade later, he produced one of the most successful jazz albums of its time, Stan Getz and João Gilberto's ''Getz/Gilberto,'' which included the Grammy-winning single ''The Girl From Ipanema.''
In 1967, Mr. Taylor began CTI as a boutique label within A & M Records. His first signings ranged from the Brazilian superstar Milton Nascimento to the arranger Quincy Jones. The album ''A Day in the Life'' by the guitarist Wes Montgomery showed that the producer hadn't lost the touch. Lushly arranged and favoring pop fare over jazz standards -- the title was that of a Beatles song -- it placed Mr. Montgomery's lean, swinging phrasing in a commercial package and earned him the only gold album (selling more than 500,000 copies) of his career.
CTI went independent in 1970, and ''Stone Flower,'' its reissue of an album by the Brazilian composer and guitarist Antonio Carlos Jobim, was one of the label's first releases. Jobim was a favorite of Mr. Taylor's, having written ''The Girl From Ipanema'' and many of the bossa nova songs that ''Getz/Gilberto'' helped popularize. ''Stone Flower'' isn't jazz as such -- there's little improvisation -- but it offers a stellar lineup, particularly the bassist Ron Carter (a CTI mainstay), the flutist Hubert Laws and the saxophonist Joe Farrell.
What ''Stone Flower'' lacks in solos is made up for in warmth and rhythm. As arranged by Mr. Deodato, the album casts Jobim's songs in the signature CTI manner, with the instrumental soloists treated almost like singers and the harmonies sketched in dark, velvety textures (whispery strings, throaty flutes, chocolaty trombones).
But it's the approach to rhythm that would ultimately become a CTI touchstone and endear the label to D.J.'s. Where most jazz albums relied on a standard bebop rhythm section of piano, bass and drums, CTI recordings frequently added guitar and percussion. Mr. Benson's 1973 album, ''Body Talk,'' not only paired his electric guitar with Earl Klugh's acoustic; it also reinforced Mr. Carter's acoustic bass with Gary King's electric.
In addition, most of the label's albums were recorded in the studios of the engineer Rudy Van Gelder, a jazz legend in his own right, in Englewood Cliffs, N.J. He emphasized the rhythm instruments: the deep resonance of acoustic bass and the crispness of cymbals and percussion. By shading the sounds, Mr. Van Gelder created a sonic world that was CTI's own.
That ear for sonic detail is evident on Mr. Laws's ''Rite of Spring.'' Based on classical works, from Stravinsky's ''Rite'' to a swinging take on Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No. 3, the album wields an unusual array of instruments, including a bassoon. But even the arrangements tend to emphasize ensemble playing over improvisation. Notwithstanding, there are enough hot moments that the title track has been sampled by the Canadian hip-hop group Swollen Members.
MR. TAYLOR eventually augmented his CTI line with Kudu Records, a subsidiary devoted to soul jazz. Beginning with the organist Johnny Hammond's ''Breakout'' in 1971, it expanded on the formula that Mr. Taylor had established with Mr. Turrentine's 1970 album ''Sugar.'' Kudu releases were funkier and relied more on pop songs than most CTI offerings, making more of beats and arrangements than of solos.
It was the rhythm that made both the Beastie Boys and Fat Boy Slim sample ''Loran's Dance'' from the drummer Idris Muhammad's album ''The Power of Soul,'' just as the rappers Eric B. and Rakim drew from Hammond's ''Breakout.'' That connection may not be enough to make hip-hop listeners into a new generation of jazz fans. But it's nice to know that these recordings are again available in something more than just snippets.
IN their quest for rare grooves and ear-catching hooks, hip-hop D.J.'s do a lot of digging through old LP's. Anything is fair game, from classic R & B hits to corny movie soundtracks. But for many D.J.'s, nothing confers sophistication better than jazz.
Rap fans and jazz fans value markedly different things in their music, of course. You won't find many samples from John Coltrane, Thelonious Monk or Charlie Parker on rap albums. But you will find quite a few from George Benson, Bob James, Stanley Turrentine and Grover Washington.
What do these artists have in common? From a D.J. perspective, the answer is simple: they all recorded for CTI (or one of its subsidiaries), a label founded in the the late 1960's by the well-known producer Creed Taylor. Rappers from Run D.M.C. to LL Cool J to Snoop Dogg have all sampled CTI's stylish, groove-driven recordings. In fact, the label has gained a cachet among hip-hop D.J.'s, in part because its catalog has only sporadically been available since the introduction of the CD in the late 1980's.
But that situation may change: Sony Legacy reissued eight titles earlier this month, including albums by Mr. Benson, Mr. Turrentine, Milt Jackson and Antonio Carlos Jobim. Seven more are planned for this summer. Even so, dozens of CTI albums remain out of print.
The unavailability of CTI's catalog is especially puzzling given the label's great commercial success in the 1970's. It's best-known albums, like Mr. Washington's ''Mr. Magic'' and Mr. James's ''BJ4,'' were not just successful by the standards of jazz; they were also bona fide pop hits, often climbing high in the album charts. The label even released a few hit singles, notably Eumir Deodato's 1973 revamping of ''Also Sprach Zarathustra,'' the theme from the movie ''2001: A Space Odyssey.'' It went to No. 2 on the Billboard pop charts despite having an all-star jazz lineup.
That such success didn't win Mr. Taylor more friends in jazz is instructive. Where many jazz musicians wanted their music to be more like high art -- oblique, austere, intellectually demanding -- Mr. Taylor believed that jazz, having started out as popular music, ought to maintain a connection to a broader audience. His credo was that when cut off from its pop roots, jazz withers and dies.
By and large, Mr. Taylor's productions stressed recognizable tunes (often pop hits at the time or light classical favorites), sturdy, straightforward grooves and slick, hi-fidelity recordings. Jazz snobs carped that many of those values were middlebrow, pandering to commercial tastes. (When Steely Dan imported those qualities into rock, critics applauded.)
Mr. Taylor nonetheless managed to assemble a stable of first-rate talent -- including Paul Desmond, Freddie Hubbard and Chet Baker -- and to make the sound sell. His success shouldn't have been that surprising. Initially a trumpeter, he began his career in jazz production in 1954. A decade later, he produced one of the most successful jazz albums of its time, Stan Getz and João Gilberto's ''Getz/Gilberto,'' which included the Grammy-winning single ''The Girl From Ipanema.''
In 1967, Mr. Taylor began CTI as a boutique label within A & M Records. His first signings ranged from the Brazilian superstar Milton Nascimento to the arranger Quincy Jones. The album ''A Day in the Life'' by the guitarist Wes Montgomery showed that the producer hadn't lost the touch. Lushly arranged and favoring pop fare over jazz standards -- the title was that of a Beatles song -- it placed Mr. Montgomery's lean, swinging phrasing in a commercial package and earned him the only gold album (selling more than 500,000 copies) of his career.
CTI went independent in 1970, and ''Stone Flower,'' its reissue of an album by the Brazilian composer and guitarist Antonio Carlos Jobim, was one of the label's first releases. Jobim was a favorite of Mr. Taylor's, having written ''The Girl From Ipanema'' and many of the bossa nova songs that ''Getz/Gilberto'' helped popularize. ''Stone Flower'' isn't jazz as such -- there's little improvisation -- but it offers a stellar lineup, particularly the bassist Ron Carter (a CTI mainstay), the flutist Hubert Laws and the saxophonist Joe Farrell.
What ''Stone Flower'' lacks in solos is made up for in warmth and rhythm. As arranged by Mr. Deodato, the album casts Jobim's songs in the signature CTI manner, with the instrumental soloists treated almost like singers and the harmonies sketched in dark, velvety textures (whispery strings, throaty flutes, chocolaty trombones).
But it's the approach to rhythm that would ultimately become a CTI touchstone and endear the label to D.J.'s. Where most jazz albums relied on a standard bebop rhythm section of piano, bass and drums, CTI recordings frequently added guitar and percussion. Mr. Benson's 1973 album, ''Body Talk,'' not only paired his electric guitar with Earl Klugh's acoustic; it also reinforced Mr. Carter's acoustic bass with Gary King's electric.
In addition, most of the label's albums were recorded in the studios of the engineer Rudy Van Gelder, a jazz legend in his own right, in Englewood Cliffs, N.J. He emphasized the rhythm instruments: the deep resonance of acoustic bass and the crispness of cymbals and percussion. By shading the sounds, Mr. Van Gelder created a sonic world that was CTI's own.
That ear for sonic detail is evident on Mr. Laws's ''Rite of Spring.'' Based on classical works, from Stravinsky's ''Rite'' to a swinging take on Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No. 3, the album wields an unusual array of instruments, including a bassoon. But even the arrangements tend to emphasize ensemble playing over improvisation. Notwithstanding, there are enough hot moments that the title track has been sampled by the Canadian hip-hop group Swollen Members.
MR. TAYLOR eventually augmented his CTI line with Kudu Records, a subsidiary devoted to soul jazz. Beginning with the organist Johnny Hammond's ''Breakout'' in 1971, it expanded on the formula that Mr. Taylor had established with Mr. Turrentine's 1970 album ''Sugar.'' Kudu releases were funkier and relied more on pop songs than most CTI offerings, making more of beats and arrangements than of solos.
It was the rhythm that made both the Beastie Boys and Fat Boy Slim sample ''Loran's Dance'' from the drummer Idris Muhammad's album ''The Power of Soul,'' just as the rappers Eric B. and Rakim drew from Hammond's ''Breakout.'' That connection may not be enough to make hip-hop listeners into a new generation of jazz fans. But it's nice to know that these recordings are again available in something more than just snippets.
