If Washington, DC is going to be a next wave indie powerhouse, it is absolutely necessary that Sockets Records be a dominant label. If an attendee at Saturday night’s Sockets Records showcase, there was significant sonic evidence to prove that the label’s acts  may quickly be making this the case. A nearly filled to capacity Black Cat approved of the performances of local bands Protect-U, Imperial China, Buildings and Cigarette. But a mere inkling of the talent released from DC resident Sean Peoples’ imprint, it was sound and fury that signified a desire for a whole lot more.

Headliners were live electronic duo Protect-U. 2011 single “Double Rainbow” is a sneaky surprise, funky, atmospheric techno that doesn’t break a sweat, but explores the recesses of the mind. The duo doesn’t record on the label, but both members,  Aaron Leitko and Mike Petillo have released individual projects with Sockets, so the connection makes sense. The heaviest hitters of the night? Quite literally the local trio Buildings, whose sound is best described by rock scribes as math rock. Unaware of what that means? Imagine an all-instrumental groove that alternates between exploratory and persistent melodies and is sometimes led by the pocket drumming of David Rjich. The latter is quite impressive, analogous to a man drilling you into blissful awe with a jackhammer.

Imperial China? The local darlings with the most anticipated set of the night, their latest album How We Connect a brighter and heavier take on the garage rock style defining so much of the post-punk movement. Latest single “Limbs” in the live element really stands out, each breakdown more impressive than before. Openers Cigarette? A whisper to a whisper, a nine-piece orchestral rock outfit that, as bunches of flowers adorned microphone stands, peaceably meandered through a delightfully ambient opening set.

For more information on Sockets Records, visit SocketsRecords.com.

I believe that new is boring and that history is inspirational. These opinions are not necessarily the views of the Couch Sessions. “Marcus Dowling appreciates…” celebrates the memories that define the future. Enjoy.

Hip hop loves a golden god. However, as time has worn on in this history of the genre, the ability of heavily bejewled emcees to entertain through stories has paled in comparison to their out-sized presentations. While rappers like Gucci Mane, Waka Flocka Flame and Soulja Boy have achieved significant mainstream acclaim, their lyrical dexterity has often been doubted. However, in blending a (literally) golden presentation with extreme displays of lyrical style, Slick Rick, as he was then, and as he always will be, the bling bling ruler of ribald rap entertainment, and deserving of our appreciation.

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London bred and New York raised, Ricky Walters seemingly was always destined to be Slick Rick, aka Rick the Ruler. A childhood accident involving a shard of glass being lodged in his eyeball added more unique appeal, as a crafty storyteller draped in jewels, satin, fur and a diamond-encrusted eye patch he was made for hip hop’s first mainstream push. Also ready for the push was his style. Neighborhood tales of excess were commonplace in the game. Top rappers like Kurtis Blow paved the way for Def Jam artists like LL Cool J, The Fat Boys, the Beastie Boys and Run DMC to gain crossover appeal by being performers with whom pop crowds could easily relate. Slick Rick? Somewhere in his heavily accented British tone and X-rated stories like pre-Def Jam collaboration with Doug E. Fresh on “La-Di-Da-Di,” he added an ersatz aspirational standard to common existences that separated him from all contenders.

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1988′s The Great Adventures of Slick Rick is a legendary album. Producer Hank Shocklee added eminently dance ready sounds to Ricky’s absurd everyman tales and created an instantaneous superstar. Grooving banger “Children’s Story” was the highlight, the tale of a misguided child stick-up artist so lyrically vivid with a sing song cadence that the words immediately attach to the lister’s psyche. Filled with such heavyweight moments as “Teenage Love, hopeful ode to youth worldwide “Hey Young World,” plus the deplorably filthy yet entirely catchy “Indian Girl,” Great Adventures… is an all out pleasure assault on the brain’s frontal lobe.

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If not an obsequious fan of hip hop, Slick Rick is a one-album wonder. A 1990 shooting placed the emcee behind bars until 1996, a period in which Rick’s style became a surefire route to hip hop credibility. Whether Snoop Dogg covering “La Di Da Di” on 1993 debut album Doggystyle, Def Jam signee Montell Jordan riding a “Children’s Story” sample to the top on 1995′s “This Is How We Do It,” or a plethora of other examples, his pop excellence was undeniable. 1998′s “Da Art of Storytellin’” from Outkast’s Aquemini release? Likely Rick’s best moment. Restoring his legend with trademark ease, when placed alongside top griots of a new era, MC Ricky D proves a timeless member of hip hop’s enduring legacy.

It’s important for today’s rappers to remember that wearing gold chains and sitting at the top of the game is a demanding task. Slick Rick wore the gaudiest of medals but responded with the most ostentatious of flows. Letting the jewels of success weigh down one’s style? A lazy reminder of the many inherent flaws of hip hop’s latest era of pop domination. Regarding this future, only one ponderous open-ended statement applies. “Hey young world…the world is yours…”

“You know, it’s like they say. Necessity is the mother of invention.” Thus and so begins the story of the rise to sustainability of Washington, DC rapper SmCity. Simeon Booker is a DC native, a long toiling member of the area’s densely populated underground hip hop scene. In the game for nearly a decade, his “Indie Life” movement has expanded and extended him closer to the mainstream than ever before. A great case study for the nature of success in independent hip hop, in speaking with him at legendary DC eatery Ben’s Chili Bowl,  The Couch Sessions got more than a flavor of the food. The flavor of the man spoke volumes on hip hop in 2012.

“My Indie Life album is more than a typical project. I own 20/20 Productions as well, and I’ve rolled out five videos so far for tracks on the project.” One of the least anticipated to the most wanted projects in the Nation’s Capital,  free album The Indie Life – Hate, Love and Money contains a plethora of collaborations with local artists and producers who have name brand indie impact. Names like  Kokayi, Pro’verb, Phil Adé, Uptown XO, The Best Kept Secret and Ab the Pro may not be Billboard favorites, but in becoming a reputable and top indie artist, having these valuable cosigns on a project welcomes those unfamiliar with the veteran’s work to want to listen intently.

Does the emcee fear being overshadowed by those who many consider to be more notable sharing space with him on the project? Absolutely not. “I’ve been in the area for years, and these are all performers that I’ve wanted to work with for awhile. I feel comfortable next to them and feel I deserve to be there. The DMV is filled with talent. I definitely deserve to be on that list.” The album itself is a quality project. An easy listen that doesn’t feature indie tropes like, as the emcee jokes, “rappers rapping about how dope they are at rapping,” it’s a mainstream quality effort that has inherent coherence. “I tried to put together a project that had a unified theme,” Sm City says. ” The Indie Life is a movement that people can connect with, a movement towards success. That’s the theme.”

As with all currently relevant performers, the move towards being able to produce quality visuals is fresh on Booker’s mind. “I think it’s important. Access to technology has leveled the playing field in videos, so you really have to try hard to be unique. Video for Indie Life  single “My Own Boss” was filmed at Occupy DC, Washington’s hub of the anti-corporate, 99% applauding movement. SmCity’s reasoning behind the move is clear. “Yeah, I can’t lie.  I’m an opportunist. I saw Occupy, and realized that the aims blended perfectly with one of my own songs. I went down, really tried to gain an appreciation and understanding for the Occupy movement. It wasn’t at all what I was expecting, but we definitely shot there. It was different, and it made sense.”

Dissemination of his work has been the realm of his Indie Life concert series. Having brought talents like Skyzoo, Freddie Gibbs and Big KRIT to the city and blending their talents with local performers, it continues the rhymer’s initiative of expanding DC”s presence. “There used to be a time where a DC show was all about you, your aunt, your cousins and a bunch of other rappers at the show. DC’s great, but the area lacks guys who are consistent draws. I wanted to change that. I haven’t performed on every show. I want to make sure I open doors for all local rappers.”

Sustainability in independent hip hop is a difficult proposition at best. Sustainability in a region on the rise with minimal consistent mainstream success? Even harder.  SmCity’s Indie Life? Undoubtedly successful and solid model to grow on.

I believe that new is boring and that history is inspirational. These opinions are not necessarily the views of the Couch Sessions. “Marcus Dowling appreciates…” celebrates the memories that define the future. Enjoy.

Pop music of the hipster generation was dealt a great disservice. Pop musicians of the hipster generation were given a terrible hand as well. Hype Williams, one of the greatest directors and videographers of the modern era has no modern counterpart, and is likely too expensive to hire for their clips. Thus, the breaking artists of the past five years have absolutely no way to compare to the largely Williams created visual standard of pop excellence. The director is so much more than a man who abused color saturation, dramatic vistas and fish eye lenses. The New Yorker, a child of hip hop, by blending the ordinary with the magical, made the genre, and what makes it great, a visual expectation of pop domination. For that, he is appreciated.

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There are people in the modern generation who appreciate the tremendous lo-fi visions of current video dons the Hi-5 Collective who would argue that Hype was great because of his budgets. It is true that the estimated millions of dollars it took to shoot Busta Rhymes’ 1997 clip for “Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Could See” makes it one of the most expensive videos ever. It is also true that a wise man can separate a fool from his money. What likely fails in the continuing if/then syllogism is the video itself. Only a man with a most vivid of imaginations (and a history involving the direction of 2Pac’s “California Love”) could come up with re-imaging Coming to America as a giggly post-modern apocalypse. Amazing in its simplicity and execution, oversaturated muted colors heighten the stentorian blasts of bright colors in the video, the track and Busta’s delivery. Only the most blessed of geniuses create in that manner.

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Hype Williams grew in line with hip hop. Able to match idyllic visions from the projects to the penthouse, he was the perfect auteur for rap music’s initial high class aspiring generation. When rappers switched from wanting boiled rocks to rock and roll, and needing to know Donatella Versaceinstead of Dapper Don, Hype was there every step of the way. Now 20 years in the game, its impressive to note that in every year since 1992′s clip for underground hyped Zhigge’s “Rakin’ in the Dough” to Willow Smith’s “Fireball,” he’s been the director of note for hip hop’s most immediate reflections of success at all levels of the game.

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In later years, Williams, like hip hop has branched into defining rock’s future. Still impressive in that realm, like graffiti artists Jean-Michel Basquiat and Keith Haring who inspired him, he carries the sound of the streets alongside a vivid and expansive imagination. In expecting someone to excel and surpass the legacy of Hype Williams, you demand that the future exist with a foot squarely in the past, a foot squarely in the present, and hands grabbing beyond the future into an entirely imaginary space. As the present continues to be defined by amazing discoveries that render the magical as purely commonplace, will the future still be defined by an appreciated Hype, or where does the re-definition of visual extravagance reside?

Ex-Washington Post journalist and now full-time deejay Rhome “DJ Stylus” Anderson refers to the party as “a mix of ‘lazer boogie,’ ‘Jheri curl funk’ and ‘champagne soul.’” It’s a celebration of the storm of post-disco crossover R & B, Detroit techno and the Minneapolis sound’s early 80s takeover. Kevin Saunderson, Juan Atkins and Derrick May’s down tempo electro funk was a staple of so many pop radio crossover hits of the era. Furthermore, you can’t tell the story of the 80s without Teena Marie, Prince, Morris Day, Jimmy Jam or Terry Lewis. Stylus continues, “I was hanging out one day with (fellow Axel F resident deejays) Jahsonic and Adrian Loving, and we realized that there were so many classic R & B jams that nobody really played out anymore. We wanted to change that, and for the past year I think we have.”

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Saturday night’s first anniversary event filled Liv, a classed up juke joint on the famous corner of 11th and U Streets, NW, to extreme capacity. The highlight wasn’t the just the music, but the appearance of something more. Sexual Chocolate. No, Randy Watson (and his powder blue tuxedo) weren’t exhumed from our collective memories of classic Eddie Murphy film Coming to America. However, an all-star band dressed in 80s themed costumes and tore the house down. Grammy-award winning member of the Foreign Exchange Soundsystem Phonte did don the iconic Jheri curl wig and play alongside indie soul favorite Zo! on keyboards, vocalists Deborah Bond, N’Digo Rose (shirtless while wearing a double-breasted blazer) and Nea Posey, guitarist Zach Cutler and a plethora more. Contemplating the amazing sight of a live band playing The Deele’s “Shoot ‘Em Up Movies”or hearing a cover of Cherelle and Alexander O’Neal’s “Saturday Love” and think “they don’t make em like this anymore?” Saturday night was JUST for you.

Standing in a dark corner, it was impossible to not want to boogie into the middle of the dance floor on time to the bassline of Stevie Wonder’s “Do I Do.” Janet Jackson’s “What Have You Done For Me Lately?” A gigantic hit for any era. Slowing things down for Keith Sweat? Still the ultimate romantic cure for seeing a cutie in a side-ponytail, headband and legwarmers from across the room. As if living and excelling in an amazing future isn’t enough, combining it with gems of an also beautiful past is arguably the ultimate party for the ultimate time.

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If hype is the new currency, then once mainstream irrelevant  rhythm and blues is alive, well and a genre richer than most. However, if you make more money by backing up the hype, then on Thursday, January 26th in Stockholm, Sweden, D’Angelo saved mainstream R&B.

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This story is based in standards and gets corrupted by Frank Ocean and The Weeknd. Not unlike 2012, true pop music success say, 60 years ago was based in the live performance realm. Whether the fault of the internet and economic depression or sheer racism, the past and future of rhythm and blues demanded that artists be both top recorders and iconic performers of their material in order to succeed. The concept once was such a necessity that Motown Records famously hired choreographer Cholly Atkins and a team of seamstresses to ensure that the live performances of groups on the label exceeded expectations in the live realm.  The concept is so forgotten in the future that both Ocean and The Weeknd, the “saviors” of R & B’s future? Tops on the iPOD, but live? Where the money is made? Okay, but by comparison, ineffective lightweights, sound and fury signifying nothing.

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Enter D’Angelo. I can only imagine the infamous moneyed recluse sitting on his couch in southern Virginia. He was the last great king of tortured soul. David Ruffin meets Jodeci, he blazed a trail by baring it all, shirtless video for 2002′s “Untitled (How Does It Feel)” the ultimate moment, a barrel-chested legacy, realized. Prior to that point he wasn’t a slouch. Bluesy, jazzy work work over two albums contributed to a solid, appreciated live performance standard. He wasn’t the best ever, but he certainly fit the standard. Seeing two men with undeniable talent unable to connect and completely engage in the live realm? It was clearly time to spring into action and inspire soul music’s brightest futures in easily a decade.

Let’s be honest. In retrospect, the Virginian crooner’s first performance in nearly a decade was good. We deemed it as great because we’re thirsty. Sad soul is filling our ears, but hasn’t yet entirely inspired our eyes. Music is a fully sensual experience. Emotionally blunted in the information deluge of the modern era, we’ve likely forgotten that. However, D’Angelo brought it back. The Weekend steps up to the plate at Coachella. Ocean? He has an album scheduled, so he’s due to tour as well. However, D’Angelo, and a crew of experienced and still relevant crooners I expect to follow in his lead? They’re going to set the bar for the future impossibly high. Let’s hope that the touted contenders can exceed their hype. Until then? All hail D’Angelo. Thank you.

I believe that new is boring and that history is inspirational. These opinions are not necessarily the views of the Couch Sessions. “Marcus Dowling appreciates…” celebrates the memories that define the future. Enjoy.

Absolute honesty and early adoption are crimes punished in the court of popular culture by being branded with unrelenting mediocrity. On Mickey Avalon’s 2006 debut album track “Hustler Hall of Fame,” I heard what is and what will forever be the most powerful half of a mainstream rap bar I’ve ever heard. In being the first man of his or likely any generation to approach the middle with true tales of “fist fucking faggots at the Y on gym mats,” the heavily tattooed, drug addled performer was both extra real and probably a generation ahead of the curve. In having the courage to put that, and a plethora of other stories into rhyme, he’s a performer who may at present be a mediocre and misunderstood outlier, but is possibly the harbinger of a future likely not so far removed. In having the most uniquely honest creative voice of his era, we should both be aware of and appreciate Mickey Avalon.

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You probably know the Hollywood-residing Avalon from when he created at his surface expectation. The dirty, tattooed white hipster’s 2006′s “My Dick” achieved its greatest notoriety as an inclusion on the soundtrack of one-note schlock comedy Harold and Kumar Go to Guantanamo Bay. Fulfilling the white rapper stereotype, it’s a non-stop stream of puerile penis jokes, the kind of song your intellect wants to forget but your id demands to remember. However, though his work appears common, it’s in examining the context of the era and the strength of all of the words on his accompanying debut album where his words where he becomes bizarrely impressive.

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“Jane Fonda” is blessed from Avalon working with underrated pop genius Cisco Adler assisting with the hook. Advising partiers that “1-2-3-4, get your booty on the dance floor,” it’s an irreverent tale of coked out socialites who love to party. If remixed today Steve Aoki, you’d probably know from a Jersey Shore episode. Mobb Deep-esque boom bap highlights “Roll Up Our Sleeves,” a song about a hardscrabble life lived by a code of hustling and heroin. Need more very real tales filled with very real talk? “Waiting to Die” opens with a voice proclaiming that “We are going to have open sexual intercourse on every street corner of America.” Sounds promising, right? Well, when the hook hits, Avalon strikes with a question both precise and poignant on the existential emptiness that accompanies freedom: “Looking out the window at night can’t help but wonder / That God must be one sick motherfucker / So I bust a nut in the sky / Spend another day waiting to die.”

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In telling true stories in something mirroring Slick Rick’s narrative voice, Avalon advanced irony-laden and excessive culture into a place where popular society was likely too afraid to allow it to enter. However, as the the parties grow for a universe now living in a mainstreamed OG hipster ideal, words once regarded hypocritically as lies reflect a past, present and future indisputable truth. Sadly, I appreciate that.

Joe Nice’s rise from being an ex-Baltimore club DJ to being one of a chosen few at the forefront of the US dubstep movement spurred a relatively quick rise for stateside dub that quickly melded with an overseas “re-invasion.” “It was in 2004 or 2005 when US promoters began to regularly book Kode9, Skream and Benga for gigs over here. I loved it! I would regularly spend $24 buying releases from these guys at record stores, and then they were here in the flesh. It was an awesome all-in moment for dubstep over here. They had a connection to us, and we had a connection to their music. It was a beautiful symbiotic relationship.”

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However, as dubstep’s popularity rose, American pop concepts began to infiltrate the sound. UK dubstepper Rusko’s “Cockney Thug” and remix to Kid Sister’s “Pro Nails” bore little resemblance to what had come before, and for UK and US kids with little connection to underground idealism, they latched onto the bass-wobbling, catchy and derivative sound. “You had the wobbling basslines,” Nice says. “They were cool, but you have to be responsible with the wobble. When it got into a game of who could switch levels, and play louder and became a massive wobble fest, it totally lost the power of the original effect.”

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Nice is famously quoted as saying, “I don’t want dubstep to become brostep. If it does, I’m selling my equipment, giving away my dubs, and I’m done.” Upon being questioned about the nature of the American fascination with dubstep’s movement into harsher and aggressive sounds, he answers thoughtfully. “There’s very little nuanced about dubstep anymore. There’s a generation of kids who were presented the wobbles and the harder-edged sound without knowledge or a desire to remember what came before, and were told ‘this is dubstep, this is cool.”

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Preserving the OG roots is a hard directive, but one Nice meets head on with a frequent national and international touring schedule. However, playing a vastly different sound than the pop expectation leads to a very poignant statement. “I really wish what a lot of these guys are doing now wouldn’t be called dubstep. I’m sure even if you asked them, they wouldn’t call what they make dubstep. But they’re gonna do what they’re gonna do. I’ll never knock anyone who has reached a certain level of success. It’s all well and good, but it definitely gives a false impression of what the sound is all about.”

Many would consider Nice’s wish for two separate schools of thought on dubstep to be indicative of staid and non-progressive thought. Nice has an answer for those occupying that school of thought as well. “(Many) say dubstep is evolving. I’m a dubstep purist, a traditionalist, and this is something different. To me, evolution is man going from walking on all fours to walking upright, and evolving as man. Dubstep went from being all about people listening to sounds to see who can sound the loudest. It’s gone from being an inventive and organic style to being about who’s badder and angrier.” Nice continues, “The sound’s lost all of it’s original intent. It’s like hair metal bands in the 80s. It went from Motorhead and Iron Maiden looking tough and playing well to Motley Crue in makeup and Winger having teased hair. The image superseded the music.”

In the past year, ex-UK now LA residing second-generation don Rusko, describing aggressive ‘brostep’ as “like a whole lot of people screaming in your face,”has eschewed the sound for live sets that fall more in line with classic expectations. This fits with Nice’s ideals as well. “Dubstep was never meant to be that aggressive. It’s root is dub, which is more peaceful, giving space to let songs breathe. Dubstep’s meant to have bass, not all mid-range. It’s too far gone in the other direction.”

While a Skrillex Grammy victory may appear to be a victory for dubstep, those thinking that the directive for aggressive, ear-splitting symphonies may continue could have another thing coming. “Original dubstep is coming back,” Joe Nice asserts. “This mid-range fad will die, and we’ll get back to real bass. There’s already parties like Reconstruct in New York that are succeeding at keeping the original sound alive. We have the proper sound systems now in America to create the vibe and present the music and its bass correctly. 2012? Less overly aggressive for sure.

Dubstep’s American journey is clearly as hardscrabble as it is impressive. Though it’s apparent finish line is a point of division, if the predicted expectations hold up to the weight of reality, it’s only apropos that selectors worldwide will pull a “REWIND!” for the sound’s sonorous and percussive future.

Dubstep’s American development was happening long before Joe Nice took his first (of now many) trips to the UK in 2002. UK’s drum and bass, garage and jungle were immensely popular, artists like Goldie achieving significant stateside renown and opening the style to US audiences. Dubstep was merely the next iteration of that growth. The growth was initially difficult, Joe Nice remembers. “Those of us at the start had to get the promoters and venues on a learning curve. We had to find people who knew how to present it. Most spaces were good for things like the Baltimore club I used to play, which was loud, brash and over the top, but dubstep’s bass hit in a very different way. It went against everything we (in the US) knew.”

Brooklyn-residing David Quintiliani is also known as DJ Dave Q, and connected with Joe Nice over a love of this most underground of American sounds. The underground promulgation of dubstep was a slow process, but when the duo launched the seminal (now semi-regular) Dub War party in June, 2005, it was the first time in America that an entire night was dedicated to dubstep. “There were nights where a dubstep DJ would play along with DJs playing drum and bass or breaks, but nothing totally devoted to it, no. Dave and I knew we wanted to do the night, and were in touch. We were listening to Horsepower Productions tracks and one of their side projects was called ‘Dub War.’ That name stuck.”

Dub War’s location and success in New York City spawned a plethora of DJs and producers nationally to create their own events. “San Francisco had Grime City, and there were nights in Chicago, Boston, Houston, LA, Seattle and Portland. There was soon  asolid little crew of us solely playing (dubstep), cutting dubplates, we definitely got it. I don’t ever want to take the crown of being ‘the guy,’ but a lot of people saw that if we could do it in New York, they could probably do it, too.”

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Key to dubstep’s spread was it’s growing prominence in underground channels. Still, times were hard. “This is when record stores were still major,” Nice recalls. “You would end up looking through records and import CDs, and if you saw somebody who had a dubstep record in their hands, you started a conversation, and it really spread like that.” The sound’s exportation back to the UK from rising US producers was notable as well. “Matty G, from the West coast released ’50,000 Watts’ (in 2007), and that was huge! It was the first US track that anyone in the UK ever remixed (UK don Loefah took the honors), and really helped the American scene gain more respect in Europe.”

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Nice’s own trips back to the UK as a recognized name in the US rise of dubstep were a unique time. “Wow. I wondered what they thought of me. I wondered if they thought I was a bit strange, wondered what I was doing there, if they saw how passionate I was. Thankfully they did.” Spinning sets for legendary pirate station RinseFM and at the legendary DMZ event helped increase the DJ’s renown. “Those sets were great, as the UK could see that I got the culture (of dubstep) and that I was invested in it. It was all love from there, and really f***ing wicked.”

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As the scene grew in renown though, Nice’s singular focus on spreading the sound led to an odd answer when thinking about the rise of the next generation of dubstep practitioners in the United States. “I saw a bunch of people, and it’s not that I’m self-absorbed, it’s that I was just focused on getting the sound out there that I never stopped to say, hey, that kid that’s opening for me, he definitely has a future in this. In retrospect, I see everything now, and I definitely can look back and say, yeah, there were doors opening everywhere.” When contemplating the possible rise of an American superstar, Nice levels on the relative size of the scene as compared to today’s rabid fandom. “Superstars? No, that was harder to predict. There was no solid foundation yet. We had nights, but there were such a relatively small number of us that it was hard to predict. We started to get crowds, but you knew that a lot of the people who were showing up were still skeptical at heart!”

How then, does something so skeptically regarded evolve into pop music?

PART III TOMORROW!

For more information on Joe, follow him on Twitter at @joenicedj.

Lana’s the ultimate hipster. American Apparel by way of an overdose on Xanax and Soundcloud links. This is the record industry commandeering this generation’s anti-commercial imperative by creating an ingenue bathed in revolutionary indifference. Lizzy Grant’s ascent as an unapologetic Nancy Sinatra clone failed. Interscope gambled on the reveal of del Ray as an industry puppet being seen as the ultimate irony, self-aware hipsters embraced by a now self-aware industry. That didn’t work so well. Instead, the opposite occurred, Lana del Ray becoming the ultimate portrait of the deepening schism between classic record industry values and 21st century culture and technology.

Putting an unseasoned artist on Saturday Night Live has never happened quite like this. In SNL’s halcyon days, LA punks Fear notoriously stalked the stage at 30 Rock, a performance that still rarely has seen the light of broadcast television. Mainstream artists have fallen short as well, Ashlee Simpson’s famous lip-syncing gaffe a top example. But Del Ray? If you don’t think that wasn’t done on purpose, well, let’s take a fifteen-minute cab ride from Rockefeller Center, because there’s a bridge to Brooklyn I’d also like to sell to you.

Lana Del Ray is the quintessential hipster. She’s an awkward, internet-created outlier, photographed through so many Instagram filters. She’s the kind of chick that college kids who adore  Phoenix, giggle at Juicy J and awkwardly dance to Brenmar remixes pleasure themselves to on Lil B’s Tumblr. Prettier than your favorite blonde barista serving you a tall fair trade latte at your favorite indie coffee shop, more intriguing than the girl in the high-waisted genie pants at your favorite dance night, she’s intentionally awkward, and  thus for Interscope’s needs, intentionally perfect. She’s not supposed to sing well as a live artist. 90% of the wonder is just to stop and stare, to be caught in the essence of someone carefully crafted to care enough to not care about your caring that she doesn’t care at all. It’s the ultimate of all of the ironies we’ve bought and sold and loved in the last decade, the apex and denouement of the generation that heralded sea change in the global mainstream.

Lana del Ray performed “Video Games” live, and, as expected, it sucked.  Being shocked that Lana del Ray is terrible as a live performer is to turn a blind eye to our own existence. Hot chicks never look like they do when we see them online. There always fatter, weirder, thinner or more Photoshopped than we expected. The music industry daring to be stupid and airing our generation’s dirty laundry? Not as dumb as all of us getting mad about it. The recorded album? It’ll sound great. The hubub? It won’t make people clamor to see her live, it’ll make people listen to her recordings. And they’re awesome. Disposable ringtone rap has  evolved into disposable singer-songwriter pop. Lana del Ray sucks. You’re ignorantly playing into marketing plans by caring.

On February 12th, dubstep takes the stage. Nominated for five Grammy awards to be decided that evening, Skrillex, a former US-based screamo singer turned dance producer, has become the new face of worldwide dubstep. Emerging from the dark underground of the UK dance scene, dub reggae and drum and bass’ percussive heavyweight of a cousin has infiltrated the American mainstream. When Rusko, the top-tier general of the sound’s second generation of Eurpean producers blended pop sensibilities with next level sonic power, it ignited the US underground dance scene. Tracks like “Cockney Thug” and the remix to Kid Sister’s “Pro Nails” weren’t the first major dubstep anthems heard stateside, but by galvanizing hipster interests in English underground dance, it became the defining sound that took a beloved back room sound to the front of the dancehall, and to big rooms, festivals and stadiums worldwide. Now it’s no longer a British thing, or a hipster thing, it’s everyone’s sound, pop as divisive as Chuck Berry or the Beatles or Black Sabbath at their respective heights. Love it or hate it, producers like the aforementioned Skrillex, or ex-drum and bass head John “12th Planet” Dadzie have the control of the globe’s imagination, and are about to cash in in a major way. According to the “US ambassador of dubstep” Joe Nice, it wasn’t always like this over here.

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Joe Nice is a UK-born native of Baltimore, MD. Tiring of a respected career as a Baltimore club producer, he “fell out of love” with the sound and looked for beats that were “fresh and interesting” and would “open (his) mind to the possibilities of sound.” Nice discovered UK garage producer Wookie,  but it was hearing early dubstep maestros Benga, Skream, Horsepower Productions and Kode9 that piqued his interest, but a particular date sealed his fate.

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“Oh yeah. I still have the flyer. Starscape Festival. Baltimore. June 8, 2002. UK Invasion tent.” On that date, the internationally-respected celebration of hard sounds featured the likes of Hatcha, a UK dubstep originator, and a plethora more. “It was amazing. I’d never heard this sound outside of my bedroom, and I was one of the very few who knew exactly what was happening in the crowd.” The noted DJ compares his developing love of dubstep to a romantic courtship. “We went on a really long date, and I decided I would let her spend the night. Then she never left.”

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The dub reggae culture that defines dubstep’s origins was not foreign to the producer. “My family’s roots are from Trinidad. I grew up hearing steel drum, soca and calypso. My dad would drink his Carib beer, fix cars on Saturday afternoon, and we’d hear Neal Matthai on 88.9 FM Morgan State University radio.” Calypso legend Dr. Slinger “The Mighty Sparrow” Francsico left a mark as well. “If you don’t know the Mighty Sparrow, it’s not your fault. But you should listen to him. He’s like the Beatles, Ravi Shankar, Fela Kuti and Chuck Berry of calypso, rolled into one man.”

In an era prior to the significant rise of the internet, Nice describes searching for the sound as a rather involved process. “I was a DJ playing a regular night in the lounge at (Baltimore performance venue) Sonar, and I was going in on Dubstep. It would be me, my MC, Twisty, his girlfriend and sometimes, like ten people, but I didn’t care.” In 2002, strange new dance melodies didn’t spread via Youtube or Soundcloud. “There were a limited few web forums and message boards. There was dubplate.net, where you could find pirate broadcasts from overseas, and Yahoo forums, too. If you had ten people in your Yahoo group who were all contributing, you were like, YEAH! I’m onto something.” Clearly, in retrospect, they were.

Nice’s championing of the sound in the United States gave BBC Radio 1XTRA DJ J Da Flex the idea of inviting Joe overseas to visit and get a primer on the culture in its most primal state. “It was in 2002. Thanks to Jada, because he gave me the underground knowledge. I flew over, and ended up staying in some kind of south London death house. I navigated my way through the tube, and joined him for his radio show.” The experience didn’t stop there though, as a journey to the epicenter of the scene captivated Nice’s imagination. “I went to Forward, which was in Shoreditch at a club called Plastic People. (pioneering then-teenage dubstep DJ) Youngsta was on the decks, killing it, and a few things were on my mind: “How is it that this much bass can be vibrating through my body at one time, and how can bass make me feel warm?”

Armed with this knowledge, the “ambassador” set forth to change the sonic face of the United States…

PART II TOMORROW!

For more information on Joe, feel free to follow him on Twitter at @joenicedj.

All signs point to 2012 being the year that dance music will again oversaturate the American consciousness. If looking for an example of the template of what this most  typical of international concepts will look like in a stateside interpretation, look no further than Swedish House Mafia’s headlining set at a sold out Madison Square Garden on December 16, 2011.

The heralded European trio of Axwell, Sebastian Ingrosso and Steve Angello’s national rise has been a measured study in expanding American pop standards. 2008′s “Leave The World Behind” was an electrifying house collaboration with powerful vocalist Deborah Cox. Their 2009 documentary Take One? A slickly produced promotional documentary for the joys of dance culture. The soundtrack to the feature included electro hop bangers “One” and “Miami 2 Ibiza,” more rave ready synths heightened with the rap vocals of Pharrell Williams and cheeky British kingpin Tinie Tempah, respectively. 2010′s hit was expansive, trance-trending winner “Save the World,” an insistence on power pop vocals and major key progressions prominent in the track geared to the beat of American hearts.

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When demanded to meet the call of US excellence, Swedish House Mafia has set a precedent for excellence. Their table-setter at Madison Square Garden? In meeting with their note-perfect understanding of the American pop market, the selected DJ to ably handle the task was A-Trak. Though Canadian-born, the Fools Gold Records co-chief, half of top-disco house duo Duck Sauce with Armand van Helden and teenage DMC champion blends a hip-hop turntablist’s mindset with a note-perfect understanding of where dance tradition meetsthe most mainstream of US pop style. Tracks like his remix of the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s “Heads Will Roll” and Duck Sauce’s acid house heavy hitter “Big Bad Wolf” are worthwhile tracks showing a stateside resurgence that shows the US able to contribute to its four on the floor expectation.

Though not all nights in the club in 2012 will meet the expectation of electro rising where Jay-Z famously “faded to black,” it certainly showed that the international arbiters of dance’s forthcoming domination absolutely understand where they’re expected to dominate and how it needed to be done.