Heard Here

Illumination, Paul Weller

The only thing more pathetic than aging rock stars is aging rock stars abandoning the aspects of their careers that made them legendary in favor of producing watered-down, throwaway crap to satisfy their own pathetic need to feel like they matter anymore. This record suffers from the classic “I-used-to–be-in–a-good- band–but-I-have–been-out-of-ideas-for-the-last–fifteen-years” syndrome that, while not exclusive to British rock performers, seems to be their specialty (Eric Clapton anyone?).
As former front man from the English punk/mod revival band The Jam (a band that was socially relevant and catchy as hell), Weller has fallen into a particularly disappointing realm of tepid wanking reserved for former punk stars who once offered an authentic inspirational message to young people, making their descent all the more upsetting. Where he once sang status quo damning lines like “Work work work/ and work ‘til you die/cause there’s plenty more fish in the sea to fry,” (a line from “Smithers-Jones” on the classic Jam album Setting Sons), here we get mindless fluff like “Let’s you and I/blow across the fragile embers of the evening” on track 10, “All Good Books.” Pathetic.
As if the lyrics weren’t pointless enough, the music is a particularly nauseating breed of generic pabulum that would fit right in on the soundtrack album to a bad TV show. Picture a lame introspective montage from a “serious” episode of Friends or any episode of Party of Five and you can almost hear the soft- around- the- edges distorted guitars, the lazy organ, the light piano, and the meandering acoustic guitars that don’t ever seem to meander towards anything.
While mandatory euthanasia of rock stars at age 40 maybe be a bit extreme, serious consideration should be given to an international ban on allowing them to record albums unless they have something really, really important to say.

—Derek Schleelein

Phrenology, The Roots

The past few months have shown that ?uestlove, Hub, Black Thought, Kamal, Scratch, and recently-added guitarist Ben Kenney, are more deserving than ever of their moniker, The Roots.
Many followers have highlighted the name’s suitability with regards to the obvious fact that the band stays true to the roots of hip-hop. While this is true, “The Roots” is additionally fitting because of the band’s plural functionality. Showing off their talents on the stage, the live Roots played a superior show at the Odeon in Cleveland on Sunday night. In their capacity as recording artists, The studio Roots produced a stellar album that was released in November.
If the studio Roots have one flaw, it’s that they work better as an idea than as a product. As an entity, they shun samplers and drum machines and still composes credible, acclaimed hip-hop tracks. Unfortunately, much of the studio Roots’ music ultimately falls short of that of one’s image of the band. Not so with their seventh and most recent album, Phrenology. For the first time, the studio Roots are as entertaining in sound as they are in thought.
Phrenology’s first song, “Rock You,” is an outstanding indicator of the great musicianship to come. The album exhibits crisp but engaging production, successful and progressive experimentation, but an unfortunately mediocre MC. The driving, aggressive groove (propelled primarily by ?uestlove’s ability to disregard the impossible and swing straight eighth notes) is the epitome of the studio Roots — in vibe — in spite of the fact that it sounds unlike anything they’ve created previously. And that’s a good thing.
For starters, Kamal’s jazzy electric piano (on which the early Roots relied) is absent or buried subtly in the mix on most tracks. This allows the band to utilize all of the technical and instrumental possibilities that are part and parcel of their studio personality. Whereas Illadelph Halflife’s production was as flat as the CD itself, and the production on Things Fall Apart robbed the album of a cohesion that was audibly within reach, Phrenology’s executive producer, Richard Nichols, in combination with ?uestlove, allows the studio Roots to finally hit their stride.
Credit for Phrenology’s brilliance also goes to the many guest artists that are featured on the album. “Complexity” with Jill Scott, “The Seed 2.0” with Cody ChestnuTT, and “Sacrifice” with Nelly Furtado demonstrate that the studio Roots have a knack for taking their music up a notch by collaborating with musicians who fit their style perfectly (Remember TFA’s “You Got Me,” with Erika Badu?). Case in point: the album’s strongest track “Break You Off,” featuring urgently soulful vocals by Musiq, also features ?uestlove’s most emotion-laden drumming combined with Hub’s mind-blowingly tasteful bass work.
Likewise, “Break You Off” features one of Black Thought’s best performances on the album. As was evidenced by “You Got Me,” Black Thought shines when he tells a story. “Break You Off,” the story of an illicit affair, is no exception. Black Thought has never been as good an MC as The Roots have been musicians, however, and this album largely expands this gap, which began after 1996’s Illadelph Halflife. Most of the MC’s rhymes are flimsy and incoherent. He also manages to be incredibly inarticulate. The line “I’m not arguing to get in VIP cocksucker prick/suck a dick, I’m a floss for the fuck of it,” comes across as petty. “Rolling With The Heat,” features an embarrassingly solid appearance by Talib Kweli that makes Black Thought seem out of place on his home court.
Without a doubt, however, a lackluster MC does not plague the Roots in their live performances. As was evidenced by Sunday’s sold out show, Black Thought takes his delivery to the next level when he takes the stage.
While ?uestlove is undoubtedly the leader of the studio Roots, he and Black Thought are the two anchors of the live performance, ?uestlove leading the band and Black Thought, the audience. Black Thought embraces his role of Master of Ceremonies in the live arena, and performs all of his duties with aplomb, he’s charismatic and he cultivates a sense of intimacy with the audience, making them shake to his rhythm and sing along to his lyrics. This is the hallmark of the live Roots: they don’t just play a show; they engage with their audience.
The key to the live Roots is their depth. Their set touched on the high points of sans-guest Phrenology, including “Quills,” “Rock You,” and “Water,” though the band did not use the new material as a crutch. Instead, they filled much of their two hour plus performance with older tracks. A dark and funky rendition of “Panic” stood out, as did a particularly energetic “The Next Movement.”
More impressive, perhaps, was the fact that the live Roots mastered not only their own catalog, but also that of hip-hop in general. Their set was littered with about a dozen partial covers, the best of which were strung together in the second set, which included Nelly’s “Hot In Herre,” “Award Tour” by A Tribe Called Quest, and about three other songs. It was as if they were saying, we can take what you do, make it better, and still do our own thing, which is even better. They even showed a willingness to “cover” their own songs — their genre-jumping performance of “You Got Me” grooved through calypso, rock and jungle sections.
Such versatility takes instrumental skill and the live Roots clearly possess such skill. They even had segments throughout the night to brandish this particular talent — most notable were ?uestlove’s exhilarating duet with tour-percussionist Knuckles and Scratch’s solo beatbox/vocal DJ performance. Truth be told, every member of the live Roots played the hell out of their instruments on Sunday night.
And yet, more than anything, it was the energetic flow of the live Roots’ set that allowed them to shine. Few gaps punctuated their two sets and segued directly into other songs, much like a DJ set.
The ability of the studio Roots to create credible, progressive, and dynamic hip-hop without the standard tools of hip-hop producers, combined with the ability of the live Roots to present (and re-present) such material like a six-decked DJ, is what binds them together into The Roots. They embody the pure aesthetic of the genre, in spite of the fact (or more likely, because of the fact) that they forgo its traditional creation tools and presentation media.
With the advent of Phrenology, The Roots have finally nailed both sides of the hip-hop coin — the production and the delivery — while remaining more interesting, challenging, and musically enticing than most hip-hop “purists.” This is The Roots’ peak era, and one can only hope they’ll climb higher by delving deeper into hip-hop soil.

—Greg Teves