Every snap
of my snare drum can break necks.
--The
RZA
The
RZA with Various Artists
Ghost
Dog: The Way of the Samurai
Sony/Epic
Album of the
Week: Ain't a Damn Thing Changed, Nice &
Smooth (1991)
Hip-hop
albums aren't made like this anymore.
Songs of the
Week: "Hey Now," Carl Thomas; "Spell," Blue Magic
Spring
is in the air and the fever's running high.
Hip-hop's move to the mainstream in the last few years
has allowed the music's producers to trek from the basement
to the bright lights of Hollywood. Once, the only time you'd
hear beats in a moviehouse was when a film like Boyz
N the Hood played. Now, though, beatheads are regularly
enlisted to score all kinds of films, a job once reserved
for quasi-classical composers.
This year, Timbaland teamed up with bass great Stanley
Clarke to give Romeo Must Die a lil' somethin' to
tickle the ears. And last week at the Clinton Street Theater,
I sampled an even tastier treat: the blessing the Wu Tang
Clan's RZA bestows on Ghost Dog, Jim Jarmusch's flick
about an urban samurai knocking people off for the Mob.
The RZA is a known proponent of Eastern philosophies, making
him the perfect man to set the beat for the introspective
street warrior played by Forrest Whitaker. Well-crafted
beats sometimes blast your head back, other times sneak
in to vibrate the body, often contrasting drastically with
Whitaker's overbearing silence.
Lifting Whitaker's readings from Hagakure: The Book
of the Samurai--one of the movie's touchstones--the
RZA constructs a testament of his own, making a powerful
statement to the hip-hop community. The album expands on
the film's application of classical warrior mentality to
the modern problems of the streets. As Ghost Dog, Whitaker
adopts samurai ethics to preserve his dignity and, ultimately,
his mental freedom in a strife-ridden urban existence. The
RZA takes that story and moves on, building a manifesto
for broader social revolution. On one track, for example,
the West Coast Killah Bees, North Star and Black Knights
call for the Crips and Bloods to unite and fight--a definite
change from the usual gangsta bull-mess.
The RZA also goes for the throat with his beats, spinning
bangers, R&B, dancehall and disco. Snare and hi-hat
crack ferociously; the kick drum resonates on the low end.
Yet it's the sample-jacking that really snatches your breath.
Al Green's unmistakable moan is cleverly copped from "Beautiful"
for Suga Bang Bang's slow romp on "Don't Test/Wu Stallion."
Blue Raspberry begins "Strange Eyes" with "When things
go wrong, we can work it out/ When problems occur, we can
talk it out," establishing peace from the giddy-up. The
heavy bass line of "Walking Through the Darkness" comes
with a serious jab, and Tekitha's lyrics accurately portray
Ghost Dog's enlightened steelo. RZA's delve into disco for
the song's rhythm is ill, and will probably make a few backsides
jiggle in the appropriate clubs.
The RZA's at his best on "Samurai Swordsman, a summons
to all heads to lift their voices in a single war call.
Besides proving that RZA's the dopest on the beats, the
track sums up Ghost Dog's insight quite nicely.
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Willamette Week | originally
published May 10,
2000
|
