Maturity can be a bitch, especially if you’re a popular musician. A drop off in quality 10 years down the line – never mind 15 – is practically de rigueur, and almost inevitably the size of a group’s audience dwindles. The better bands out there might drop a new record every three or four years, but if Pearl Jam and R.E.M. have done anything significant in the new millennium I haven’t been aware of it, and I love those guys.
Hip-hop acts generally have it even harder than rock groups; the attention span of commercial hip-hop radio is notoriously short. Indeed, there are precious few rap groups of the so-called “golden age” who have managed to stay relevant. LL Cool J comes out with a slick crossover smash every few years, Dr. Dre still launches careers for other people on occasion, and the Beastie Boys (who since the dawn of the ’90s have catered almost exclusively to the alt-rock crowd) pawn their latest creations every half-decade or so. And that’s about it.
Long Island’s De La Soul has lived to see its peers fizzle away (a la A Tribe Called Quest, whose rumored reunion has yet to produce a new record) or focus their energies on other pursuits. The ubiquitous Beasties, who showed up on De La’s first “Art Official Intelligence” installment in 2000, just made a record which may be the weakest of their career. But members Posdnuos, Maseo and Dave continue to impress, and what’s so unusual and wonderful about their persistence is that it’s heartfelt. They’re still in the game because they love the music, and their continued commitment to excellence is plain to see for anybody who witnessed their show Sunday, Oct. 24 at Toad’s Place in New Haven or picked up their brilliant new album, “The Grind Date.”
Sunday night’s show was an example of just how great live hip-hop can be, and I for one was taken by surprise. Maseo, the group’s DJ, showed up on stage just as a few unnecessary roadies cleared the way for the next act. In the course of a short monologue that served to introduce newcomer Butta Verses (who was decent but nothing special), Maseo exhorted with the enthusiasm of a preacher and the conviction of a true believer, kept on his toes by a culture that runs thicker than blood in his veins.
Having stated his group’s continued devotion to a culture that provides each of them with a livelihood, Maseo and his cohorts followed suit by proving it with a 90-minute performance that never let up through chronological and stylistic leaps. The trio made plain that the setup of two MC’s and one DJ, popularized by old-school heroes Run-D.M.C. is not only alive and well, it’s still vital; on early joints “Ring Ring Ring” and “Me Myself and I” (still their only top 40 hit) and newer chestnuts such as “All Good?” and “Bionix” alike, they traded lines, quoted popular tunes and moved the crowd like only a veteran act could, with an almost telepathic interplay that is the hallmark of such a sustained, fruitful union. At the end of the show the group invited the ladies up on stage for “Baby Phat,” their affectionate tribute to full-figured women, and amidst the mixed crowd of collegiate types and old school fans the exuberant spirit, the music, the great vibes and the love were a wonder to behold.
If the boundless energy of their live shows isn’t enough, De La continue to throw down on wax like the seasoned pros they are, and “The Grind Date” is no exception – three years and a label move after “Bionix”, which boasted some of their best songs to date, their commitment to excellence hasn’t dimmed a whit. Underground legend Madlib helms the album’s stuttering first single, “Shopping Bags,” as well as “Come on Down,” which features the inimitable Flava Flav. Madlib’s knotty beats provide an interesting counterpoint to flows that have only gotten smoother and more assured with age, and while his tracks would sound pretty stunning up against anything on the radio, they’re not even the best on the album. On the amazing “Church,” Dave and Pos catalogue the hardships facing black youth (and, unlike many rappers, they offer some solutions) over a harmony-group sample that sounds like it was cribbed from some dusty soul 45 of about 1972 vintage. “Instead of giving you a share, serving you a dish / I’ll lead you to the water, show you how to fish,” declares Dave, Pos responds “Ain’t nothing wrong wit makin’ that bread with it / But don’t let the bread get to your head, get it?”, and when a gospel choir joins the scratched-up harmony voices it’s pure bliss.
Indeed, the beats on the record are so strong that they occasionally threaten to upstage the MCs, but the five contributions from frequent collaborator Supa Dave West cements a producer/rapper match-up as potent as De La’s work with Prince Paul on their first three albums. To be sure, West’s approach differs markedly from the earlier model; in contrast to Paul’s giddy, disjointed funk, Supa Dave prefers smoother grooves, rhythmically unorthodox but abetted by synth textures, liquid bass lines and samples that range from disco and Philly soul to assorted ’70s schlock (“The Grind Date” bites Yes, of all bands). And his beats are no less funky or inventive for that. West spurs the MCs on to some of their strongest rhymes, the sharpest of which are delivered on the album’s centerpiece and title track. To wit: “I was a dick who got jerked by Tommy and his boys / Came on my land, seized my cattle and catalogue as if it wouldn’t leave me less than coy / But I’m far from bail, even further from quittin’ / Got a Grind Date to make no time for sittin’ and playing X-Box / Stand up and exercise my rights.” The verse alludes to the fact that the group was dropped from longtime label Tommy Boy, in crisis due to bankruptcy woes, after 2001’s “Bionix” (which, for shame, has already gone out of print – so pick it up online if you know what’s good for you). Message: Whatever misfortunes might befall them in the future, they’re going to keep on keepin’ on, because they’re doing what they love and still having a hell of a time doing it. Beat that, Beastie Boys.
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