Dusty Groove: The Vinyl Room

I think it's safe to say that if I could hang out with ANY production crew, it would be Organized Noize.

I mean, if this hypothetical and delusional question was based on craft alone, and if I was a wizard, I would stand behind J Dilla all day and night just to soak in the ambiance of Genius, but chances are that once I got there I would go into catatonic shock and be rendered speechless and wouldn't even be able to offer to run to the store for him (my treat, obviously) so we wouldn't even be able to talk about how "Find A Way" changed my world forever and still continues to absolutely destroy every molecule in my being OR about the bass line on "Dynamite" and how it is the Greatest. Bass. Line. Of. All. Time.

But that would be totally cool because honestly, I would be content just watching him push a fader up and down. So, good thing that would never happen.

However, if we are talking about a mind blowing musical education session + the most fun I could ever have with my clothes on, you would find me in Atlanta in the Dungeon with Sleepy, Rico and Ray.

Just started absorbing this little underrated gem from 1998. I adore OutKast and Goodie Mob, but what I reallllllllly love more than anything, is Sleepy Brown's voice. It's the audible equivalent of a time machine. It's almost as if Curtis Mayfield, late '70s Marvin Gaye and Leon Ware all melted their honeyed voices into a Crock Pot, and then let it simmer all day. And when it was time to enjoy it, Organized Noize added a pinch of synth, a dash of crisp drumming, a ton of lush orchestration and a generous sprinkling of dreamy wah-wah riffs and then served it to you while you reclined on a cloud.

His fantastic solo (and most recent, unfortunately) album, 2006's Mr. Brown which I listen to on extensive repeat all the time, is a culmination of sorts; it marries his soul and funk pedigree with the sonic hip-hop aesthetics of Stankonia. But this record, Noize's first solo creative outlet, The Vinyl Room, is pure unadulterated hot, buttered, soul, with only a tiny mix of Dungeon Family humor filled skits thrown in.

The trio, using the moniker Sleepy's Theme, pretty much reinterprets the silky falsettos of Curtis Mayfield (fun fact, Sleepy Brown worked on the legend's last album, 1996's New World Order) and the layered melodies of Barry White without any pastiche or derivative results. For those who think this kind of record is a '70s cliche or knockoff, you are a. wrong and b. clearly don't know much about the immaculate blueprint that our beloved soul and funk giants created. Yes, Gaye, Mayfield, White, Ware, Hayes and co. left behind an often imitated but never duplicated legacy. But, they also left behind an invaluable text book that if studied properly and diligently, can be reinterpreted, extrapolated and re-imagined to create shimmering and gorgeous results. And this album, much like Maxwell's Urban Hang Suite, is proof that some people do their fucking homework.

Three of my favorite tunes on the album after the jump.

"Still Smokin'":



"Private Party" (ignore the ridiculous homemade YouTube video):



"Simply Beautiful":

My Special Monday Morning Tape For You, Special!

Well, to quote Rob, it is Monday afternoon (I should have woken up earlier) but nevertheless, in celebration of the clown shoe convention that was last night's Golden Globes (Ricky Gervais, please, be mine) here are ten songs I believe have epic cinematic qualities. These picks all possess swelling crescendos, waves of complex melodic emotions, a lush sonic narrative and of course, would all work perfectly, or already have worked perfectly, as the soundtrack to characters realizing they are in love, staring out windows wistfully, having their hearts smashed, or having impeccably lit and expertly choreographed sex scenes.




Ay yi yi! That string intro is the audio equivalent of a film's protagonist thinking about a new crush and smiling. In fact, this whole song is just one gorgeous and silky tribute to new possibilities, feeling like you are 100 feet tall, and those electromagnetic vibrations that you emit when you meet someone that you just want to stare at, all day.



So, the Ray Charles duet version of this gem was totally used in a very young Lilo's remake of The Parent Trap (when the twins get separated and British Lohan has to go back to London with her mom (RIP Natasha Richardson), while Napa Valley Lohan has to be sad and ride horses with Dennis Quaid) but I really like Betty Carter doing this solo, because it takes melancholy to all sorts of new levels. Like, can't you just picture someone singing this in their apartment alone, wishing someone was there to finish the verse with them and tell them everything was going to be alright?



A pink and purple sunset. A rooftop in Brazil. A longing and wistful glance into an overpopulated, but oh so lonely and isolating city. A void in a heart that can be only filled with true love. Wait, no, I change my mind. Actually, this song is basically this Murakami story.



Speaking of Brother Ray: Correct me if I am wrong, but can't you just picture this song playing over a really bittersweet end of film montage of a doomed relationship? Meeting, falling in love, falling out of love, amazing highs, depressing and scary lows, fights, making up, a soul crushing break up. Like some Blue Valentine shit, but not to the music of Grizzly Bear.



The clip is in German, I think, but just jump to second :45 and you will know why this song can never again be used in another scene as effectively as it was used here. Look at Robert Forster's eyes. He pretty much sums up love at first sight during that first kitten soft guitar lick and drum roll. Then again, I think Pam Grier was created to strut out of a correctional facility to the sound of Bloodstone so, I mean, do with that what you will.



The title of this Let's Get It On session jam kind of says it all. I picture someone laughing and grinning to themselves while trying to grocery shop, remembering the night before. It's the complete emotional opposite of what using this other Let's Get It On masterpiece would be (it was used in a sad relationship fight/break up scene between Taraji P. Henson and Tyrese IN THE RAIN, in John Singleton's Baby Boy):







Here are two that have already been used, and exquisitely. In The Mood For Love is one big beautiful, bittersweet and staggeringly sad ode to forbidden love, all set to Spanish Nat "King" Cole.



Oh boy. Roy Hargrove and Shelby Johnson. This tune is kind of like having a whole pack of butterflies in your stomach while glowing and sauntering down the street, half tipsy, half dreaming. It would work perfectly in a film that will never be made.

Happy Birthday Marvin.

If he were still alive, Marvin Gaye would be 70 years-old today (and yesterday marked the anniversary of his 1984 death). What are your favorite Marvin Gaye albums and songs? Comment, please.

Mine are 1976's I Want You and 1978's Here, My Dear.

Two choice cuts from each record, after the jump.

TDOS Book Club

Having read my fair share of biographical material on the man I consider to be God, it is safe to say that I know a little bit about the life of Marvin Gaye (Michael Eric Dyson's Mercy, Mercy Me: The Art, Loves and Demons of Marvin Gaye is pretty good, except for the R. Kelly comparison clap trap at the end). But for some reason, I had only read excerpts of David Ritz's heralded biography, Divided Soul: The Life of Marvin Gaye, which is the consummate bio on the man. It never was in stock at Border's or B&N and I always had it sitting in my Amazon cart just waiting to be purchased, but never got around to it, putting it off for the next splurge. Last week I decided these excuses were bullshit and after reading a book that contains a character that totally rips off Gaye's life story, I was angered into craving the real deal.

I cannot put this book down.

Apart from the fact that Gaye's life makes for a fantastic page turner (religion, sex, jealousy, infidelity, sexual fetishes, Motown, drugs, child abuse, heartbreak, depression, paranoia, Greek tragedy like family dysfunction, murder, Berry Gordy, etc.) this book is basically told by Marvin. Ritz and Gaye had planned on collaborating on a book together (and fun fact, Ritz is credited with co-writing "Sexual Healing," although, as you will learn in the book, that was not done without some legal issues that took a toll on the author and the musician's friendship), but unfortunately, Gaye passed before the project was started, one day shy of his 45th birthday. This was not the book Ritz intended to write. But lucky for us, he did. Based on years of intimate interviews with Marvin, his family, peers and friends, this book is the closest thing to an autobiography we could get. I already knew the general plot (as many do) but the anecdotes are what make this come to life and truly dance on the page (there is GREAT Motown dirt). I don't even want to write too much. This isn't a book review, just a plea for you to pick this up and immerse yourself in the world of Marvin. Heartbreaking, joyous, beautiful, ugly, complicated and organically simple all at once, Marvin Pentz Gaye, Jr.'s life is my favorite story of all time. It's overwhelming.

Ball of Confusion.

Coincidentally coming on the heels of the Nutella to my spoon's post about the Beatles and revisionist history, comes Idolator's post about Vanity Fair's December 2008 feature, "It Happened in Hitsville," an oral history of Motown. And while Paul McCartney's jive turkey approach to life irks me, what really grinds my gears is the enigma that is wrapped in a riddle that is covered in a David Lynch film that is rolled in a pile of bullshit that is the "real story" of Motown. Over 50 books have been written about the rise and fall of the greatest pop label in music history (I like this one) and Berry Gordy's 1995 autobiography was his big attempt to "set the record straight." But it seems like every time the record needs to get straightened (most recently with the release of the film Dreamgirls, and FYI Berry Gordy and Smokey Robinson are still pissed) the same song and dance gets performed, and it's no Cholly Atkins routine either.

It comes down to this: I am sick and tired of Berry Gordy fellating himself. Yes, he did the unthinkable and created a black owned musical dynasty that united races via the magic of pop music. He paved the way for so so so many people in the music industry and with an $800 loan from his family he managed to create one of the greatest legacies the music world will ever know. But at the same time, he isn't playing fair. When he says "set the record straight" he means telling us that he wasn't involved in the Mafia, didn't believe in payola and is in no way shape or form portrayed accurately by Jamie Foxx. But that isn't the real story of Motown. His part in the oral history only focuses on what a victim he was and spends little time talking about the music. And Martha Reeves, Smokey, Stevie Wonder and Holland-Dozier-Holland all come out and defend Gordy, be it about the various artist lawsuits he was involved in (HDH's being rather significant, but the composers say that they have nothing but love for their former boss), his decision to move the label to L.A. (the biggest fail of all time) or about special treatment that Diana Ross, whose testimony is noticeably absent from the piece, may or may not have received. Gordy on Ross and the Supremes from the VF article:

"It just came time when it was best for them to split up. I don’t really remember my part in that—I was always objective. The fact that I went with Diana Ross—she never took advantage of that and I never gave her an advantage. She didn’t want any favors; she wanted to do what was right. If she got more attention at Motown, it was because she was good; it was all about the work. That’s why we broke up. We always said [we would] if [the relationship] came in the way of her work. I knew she wanted to be a superstar."

Bitch PLEASE. Ross got no special treatment? You didn't groom her to be a star? I find that very hard to believe, especially when you say things like:

"It’s very clear why I fell in love with Diana—because she was my star, and she came from the bottom up. With her it was not only fun, it was just like heaven working with her because she would surpass anything … and she always kept her self-esteem. She always told me, “If you think it, I can do it.” And she did."

Everybody at Motown came from the bottom up you clownshoe. She was no better and no different than most girls there. I love a good Diana tune every now and again but she is not the reason I love those songs. HDH and the Funk Brothers are the reason why I love those songs. I love a Marvin Gaye song FOR Marvin Gaye. Same with Stevie. But she was not an artist. She was just a singer, a puppet, a style, a look. She was the face of Motown in many ways, but that doesn't mean she was an actual musician. Her Tweety Bird shtick was never my bag and as long as we're being honest, I think the Supremes were the least interesting and provocative group musically at Hitsville. But that's just me.

Don't get me wrong. I don't think Motown's remaining alums are all liars or that they live in fear of angering Chairman Gordy (well, maybe a little bit) but reading this piece just reminds me that certain people, namely the Funk Brothers and Marvin Gaye (and what about Tammi? Poor Tammi Terrell. While I have to read more snooze inducing anecdotes about Diana and Berry's special and magical union, I could be reading about Tammi and Marvin's heartbreaking secret/rumored but confirmed by many in the Motown circle, notably Martha Reeves and Brenda Holloway, affair), get a very specific kind of treatment when Gordy decides to take a trip down memory lane. And while Gaye and most of the Brothers aren't here to tell their experience, it pisses me off that some of the labels greatest contributors get pat remarks from Gordy like:

"Marvin had a divided soul. He looked upon me as a father figure and friend, but he wanted to have his own independence, and he would disagree with you all the time just for the sake of disagreeing. At the same time, he was a pure, wonderful, spiritual person who was looking for truth, honesty, and love. But I had major fights with Marvin Gaye because he did not think it was legal to have to pay taxes. He was convinced that it was not lawful, and I said, “Well, I don’t want to debate that with you, Marvin, but I do know if you don’t pay your taxes, you’re going to jail.”

Really Berry? Is tax evasion what you guys fought about? Not about him being married to your sister Anna who was 17 years his senior and the complications that grew out of your brother-in-law/boss role? Not about the cluster fuck that was his divorce from your sister and the ensuing legal battle that produced the greatest break-up and fuck you album of all time, Here, My Dear? And about What's Going On, the watershed album that ushered in Gaye's musical independence?:

"I heard the album [What’s Going On], and I thought it was really meaningful, but he was a pop singer, and I told him, “Marvin, think about your great image that you built up: do you really want to talk about police brutality?” I could see he had pain and passion and he wanted to awaken the minds of men. He said, “B.G., you gotta let me do this,” and I was really hesitant. Not for me, but for him. I didn’t want his career to be gone. I said, “O.K., Marvin, but if it doesn’t work, you’ll learn something, and if it does work, I’ll learn something.” So I learned something."

Stop B.G., you're making me blush. Your modesty is truly inspiring. Quit playing. You were about as hesitant for him as I am hesitant to eat a burrito right now. And if you knew me, you would know: I am never hesitant to eat a burrito.

It's OK though. I just know not to turn to the label's founder for true insight. I have Standing in the Shadows of Motown for that. And I have this to cheer me up:

Watch more Megavideo videos on AOL Video

It Happened in Hitsville [Vanity Fair]
Today's Must-Read [idolator]