Thank you for checking out the seventh installment of our Thrash 101 program, produced in conjunction with GimmeRadio, your free 24/7 radio station hosted by heavy-music experts and artists. Check it out here.In 1987, heavy-music scenes were strictly divided and definitely did not play nice with each other. But looking back on such a landmark year some three decades later, we can now appreciate the influence of Guns N Roses Appetite for Destruction alongside the impact of Deaths debut and the bombast of Candlemass—because not only can those records be seen in a clearer context, they also proudly share some of the same fans. And thats the beauty of time: things marinate and evolve. Ideas change, mentalities change, landscapes change. But when it comes to the heavy-metal revolution that was happening around the world 30 years ago, what was rad stayed rad—and thats what were celebrating with this playlist.Thrash adheres to the same face-ripping formula today as it did back then, and those who are into it are still completely stoked to be caught in a mosh. Monster ballads are now less polarizing to Beavis and Butthead types because most of us decided its not only okay to have guilty pleasures, it actually might be a lot cooler if you did. And yeah, there might still be some purists who will forever ignore the fact that Whitesnakes finest hour came at the same time as Napalm Deaths (and who think the two bands have no business being on the same playlist), but the variety of heavy music and abundance of killer guitar solos that define 1987 are actually pretty impressive to see in one place.It was a year where you could venture deep into the darkness with Sodom and Bathory, glimpse the future of extreme music with Death, scale the highest heights (and notes) on King Diamond and Helloweens most iconic albums, or maybe even get a little emotional with Def Leppards biggest commercial hit. You also got essential records from one of the greatest metal singers of all time (Dio), one of dooms most prolific bands (Candlemass), one of extreme metals sacred godfathers (Celtic Frost), not to mention a few of thrashs big guns (Testament, Anthrax, Death Angel, Overkill). It wasnt all just happening then; much of it was still emerging then, taking shape and branding its scorched mark on heavy and popular music worldwide. Heres a 30-year flashback of all the awesome varieties of metal from 1987.
For electronic fans of a certain age, French Touch (or, as it’s also known, “French House) owned the 90s. Marrying the plop disco with the peaking phaser effects, Ed Banger, Daft Punk, Kavinsky, and Cassius provided the soundtrack to many late nights (and early mornings). The music was sexy and fun, and was the most commercially dominant type of electronic music in the States until EDM reared it’s ugly head in. This Apple Music playlist is a little jerky in terms of its flow and pacing, and “Heatwave” if from ‘00, but it contains some great remixes from the genre and succinctly sums that particular time and place.
This post is part of our Psych 101 program, an in-depth, 14-part series that looks at the impact of psychedelia on modern music. Want to sign up to receive the other installments in your inbox? Go here. Already signed up and enjoying it? Help us get the word out by sharing it on Facebook, Twitter or just sending your friends this link. Theyll thank you. We thank you.Los Angeles’ beat scene was always loose by design. Though it had a very specific and physical home—Low End Theory, a club night that still happens every Wednesday at The Airliner in L.A.—the music is more mercurial, with innumerable sub-genres flourishing and swiftly fading. The architects of the scene understood that tying themselves to any one sound meant desertion when the wave inevitably crashed. So, the music was omnivorous, encompassing rap, IDM, psychedelia, turntablism, dance music, trap, jazz, ambient, trip-hop, and spiritual music.The resulting milieu produced a body of work that is nearly unparalleled in hip-hop and modern electronic music, and you can hear the beat scene’s influence in everyone from Thom Yorke and Erykah Badu to Odd Future, Kendrick Lamar,Drake, and Kid Cudi. It transformed L.A. from an electronic-music backwater to a hub of indigenous electronic music culture. And while even casual electronic music fans know its commercial lodestars—Flying Lotus, Thundercat, TOKiMONSTA, Daedelus, et al.—the scene has a deep bench, a psychedelic assortment of mad scientists, Afrofuturists, and avant garde tinkerers that seem like characters ripped out of comic books.The Dowsers has partnered up with The Passion of the Weiss to present an exhaustive look at this scene—complete with an accompanying playlist of definitive tracks. Head here to check out their list of the Top 20 albums, and check out our remix of their list below, which focuses on the 10 artists who defined the movement.
AN ORIGIN STORY, OF SORTSNearly 10 years removed from its release, Flying Lotus’ 2008 album Los Angeles still feels like an anomaly. Most L.A. music evokes sunshine, but FlyLo used techno, bass music, jazz, and hip-hop to sketch a picture of stoned weirdoes marauding through the city’s endless expanse. African percussion collided with IDM sub-frequencies, and Moog licks bounced off record static, conjuring strange, shamanistic imagery. It’s unsurprising that its Afrofuturist grit earned full-throated endorsements from the electronic-music press; the “black Aphex Twin” headlines wrote themselves.And yet despite its electronic bona fides, Los Angeles is hip-hop to the core. Released during a half-decade death spiral of rap’s ’90s generation, and during the South’s ringtone rap phase, Los Angeles didn’t fit. What it did, however, was inspire misfits, both global and local. The irreverent beat science of Odd Future pointed directly to Los Angeles, while Detroit’s Danny Brown calculated what it’d take to rap over music this weird. Soon, an entire scene of blunted beatmakers sprung up both around Low End Theory (Lotus’ performance space of choice) and the internet (where his music was consumed). We’re a decade removed from cloud rap, half a decade from Yeezus, and two years from Future’s DS2, and while we don’t know for sure if Clams Casino, Kanye, or Future heard Los Angeles, the album was the butterfly whose wings indirectly started a rap hurricane where harsh electronic productions became an acceptable canvas over which to brag about sexcapades and Gucci brand footwear.Listen to key tracks from Los Angeles alongside the music that inspired it:
INTO A DARK SILENCENosaj Thing was one of the earliest members of the beat scene, but where his contemporaries tended to produce more fleshed-out sounds, often with a heavy hip-hop influence, Nosaj Thing created a canvas shaded as much by silence as by noise. On his debut album, 2009’s Drift, the beats are dark and exploratory, and, while he couldnt have known it at the time, it has a lot in common with "the drift" of Guillermo del Toros Pacific Rim. In both instances, the drift is a process by which two active participants bond over synchronized brain waves to form a more perfect whole. While del Toro had a specific, mechanical process in mind, Nosaj Thing found a far more organic approach, realizing that (re)creation wasn’t about moving away from the original source as much as it was about moving toward a new one.Listen to key tracks from Drift alongside the music that inspired it:
THE WANDERERGonjasufi has the voice of a man who’s been through the gutter and back. An ancient, rusted-out croon, it’s by turns manic and tender, evoking many days lost in the wilderness, and many more spent re-aligning the chakras. His 2010 release, A Sufi and a Killer, feels like an epic trek, as producers Gaslamp Killer, Mainframe, and Flying Lotus sample a global list of artists to forge soulful, psychedelic beats. The vibe is dirty, and the thunder and rain that comes in at the tail end of “Love of Reign” makes the voyage that much more unnerving. Still, Sufi navigates the landscape with confidence, unleashing a crisp poetry that lays his contradictions bare in an allegorical track about a lion that wishes he were a sheep. When the singer finally finds redemption in “Made”—whose lyrics find a parallel between the coming of spring and the arrival of a paycheck—his voice is feather-light and full of relief.Listen to key tracks from A Sufi and a Killer alongside the music that inspired it:
HEARING IS BELIEVINGTo see The Gaslamp Killer is to believe in The Gaslamp Killer. The Low End Theory co-founder/resident DJ’s wide-ranging sets reside on the brink of chaos, mixing hip-hop, rock, electronic, and all points in between. On stage, he resembles the waving, inflatable man outside of a car dealership, yet the rhythmic flailing isn’t a substitute for pyrotechnics or pre-planned drops. It’s genuine, and he connects without a shred of self-consciousness, guiding audiences with shamanistic conviction.His Brainfeeder debut, 2012’s Breakthrough, captures the intimate, heartfelt lunacy of his live sets. It is the circadian rhythm compressed, shuttling you at breakneck speed from a psychedelic midnight to lucid dawn. “Holy Mt Washington” (with Computer Jay) tempers eviscerating low-end bounce with buoyant, Morricone-inspired whistling. “Peasants, Cripples, & Retards” (with Samiyam) moves from industrial, intergalactic funk to Jamaican dub. The emotive plucking of the yiali tambur by Jogger’s Amir Yaghmai on “Nissim” is backed by Gaslamp’s breakbeat barrage. It remains the standout, a reminder that not every song from the beat scene needed to rattle your body in order to touch your soul.
THE AFROCENTRIC FROM ALPHA CENTAURIRas G is the beat scene’s answer to Sun Ra. His music is an attempt to commune with the constellations, drawing equally from the electronic and analogue. His 2008 album, Brotha From Anotha Planet, is prime headphone listening, a solitary exploration of the soul in twilight hours. Ras G’s willingness to pull back between banging beats, to tie everything together with these oddly comforting intergalactic sound collages, is brilliant. It’s in these moments that we reflect, reminding ourselves of that a celestial experience is visceral as well as cerebral, and attempt to find our place in the universe.
THE FUTURE AT 90 BPMTeebs’ balancing act between subtly and bombast not only served as the M.O. for his 2010 debut, Ardour, but as a mission statement for the beat scene. While early Los Angeles electro used the sparseness of drum machines to rock the party, and DJ Shadow pushed crate digging to its first extremes, Teebs pulls both traditions toward the center, balancing the psychedelic quality of the music with a palpable sonic immediacy. It’s hard to disassociate the somatic contrast between weight and weightlessness from New Yorker Teebs’ adopted sunshine state. Rick Rubin’s beats were born of boomboxes on trains, Detroit techno’s future jazz filled the mechanical void left by shut-down factories, and Ardour was brought to you by dispensary-bought weed cookies and 90 bpm hip-hop records.
AN ALCHEMYShlohmo (a.k.a. Henry Laufer) has a gift for building tension by mining the space between wonder and terror. On 2011’s Bad Vibes, his intricate, skeletal rhythms invite close inspection, and the natural sounds and white noise textures have all the warmth of a down comforter, but the booby-trapped funk of “Just Us”—opening on a thread of light, blurpy synths and then boiling over in a wash of phantom electronics—makes you question just how safe this world really is. Laufer said that he was going through a rough patch when making this album, yet Bad Vibes reflects deeper, more ingrained burdens. Some are consumed by pain, fear, and insecurity, but Shlohmo transformed it into something beautiful.
RAZOR BLADE BEATSIf you stumbled into Low End Theory between 2008 and 2012, you felt Samiyam’s bass hit you so hard that it felt like you had a razor blade in your throat. The Ann Arbor transplant twisted synths into shrapnel, while his drums signaled an imminent sonic destruction. Samiyam’s 2011 release, Sam Baker’s Album, is an instrumental suite that is alternately gorgeous and gargoyle-heavy. Its innately infused with Samiyams grit and filth, and plucks diamonds from dirt, stars in soot, breathing artesian oxygen and then descending into a valley of smog. It reminds you that the beat scene was as far away from Hollywood as it was Hanoi.
JAZZ MUTATIONSThe influence of jazz on the beat scene is more spiritual than aesthetic. Before Kamasi Washington (who came later, and orbited the periphery), the scene produced only one true jazz artist —the young piano prodigy Austin Peralta. Peralta had a reputation as a live performer, and the recordings that have surfaced since his 2012 passing have taken on a near-mythical dimension. They are full of exuberance and wonder, with every chord revealing new avenues of sound. This willingness to push boundaries provides a through-line that connects Peralta to the larger beat scene.But experimentation is hollow without a handle on the fundamentals, and while Peralta’s live sets reached the farthest edges, his most important studio work, Endless Planets, is comparatively conservative. The piano and rhythm section do the bulk of the work, staying comfortably in pocket, with only a sparse smattering of electronics and a few ambient flourishes revealing the album’s progressive modernity. Endless Planets’ relatively reserved approach provides a launching pad for Peralta’s mutations, and established a link between the beat scene and a larger jazz tradition.
8-BIT BOOM RAPThough producer Jonwayne declares that Nintendo DS game Animal Crossing gave him the only semblance of structure in his life—understandable for a guy who used to work at Gamestop—he is first and foremost a hip-hop aficionado. He established his crate-digging bonafides by exalting criminally overlooked Pasadena crew Mad Kap, and he’s a devout follower of the cult of Busta. Still, it’s remarkable how nicely Jonwayne’s two obsessions dovetailed on his 2011 debut, Bowser. The eerie, descending keyboards of “Bowser I (Sigma Head)” evoke a King Koopa rampaging like Ice Cube’s dad in “Down for Whatever,” drunk and threatening to turn the party out, while “Beady Bablo”’s woozy, chiptune interpolation of “Freek-A-Leek” proves that Petey Pablo could have a second career stealing princesses from castles.SaveSaveSaveSave
Subscribe to the Spotify playlist here.2016 was a year of insurgent indie label artists breaking through to hip-hop radio, including Young M.A, YFN Lucci, and Chance The Rapper, whose jubilant gospel rap sound crossed over from self-released mixtapes to mainstream stardom with the help of killer guest verses by 2 Chainz and Lil Wayne on “No Problems.” Kevin Gates’s long-simmering buzz finally paid off with his first two platinum singles, the sweetly melodic “2 Phones” and the rampaging “Really Really.” Lil Yachty led the charge of a new generation of teen rappers with his breakout guest verse on D.R.A.M.’s “Broccoli.” And mainstays of radio playlists like Drake, Future, and Young Thug continued to dominate the airwaves along with post-prison comebacks from veterans Gucci Mane and Remy Ma.
Its a bold move from Rolling Stone: Even with the recent resurgence of nostalgia for the decade, by now the ‘90s have been done to death. But, arguably, the ‘90s are also fertile ground for track-mining, the sheer breadth of genres and musical stars and styles it created proving unprecedented. And while this playlist collates an impressive compendium of tracks, it tends to read less like a celebration and more as an attempt to prove the curators collective savvy. This works in places, with such gems as Heliums “XXX” and Liz Phairs “Fuck and Run” making welcome appearances, but at times this approach is jarring: with all the Whitney tracks to choose from, does Faith Evans-collab “Heartbreak Hotel” really belong here? There are also a handful of glaring omissions, largely on the hip-hop front: where is Skee-Los “I Wish”? Salt-n-Pepas “Push It”? Naughty By Natures “Hip Hop Hooray”? Beats Internationals “Dub Be Good To Me”? House of Pains “Jump Around”? Dead Prezs “Its Bigger Than Hip-Hop”, Jurassic 5s “Concrete Schoolyard”? This mix might better be termed Introduction to the ‘90s, and if that were the case, its a solid offering: props, in particular to the inclusion of Geto Boys “Mind Playing Tricks On Me”.
“Fast Rap” is a useful term that didn’t exist until record collectors made it up. (The first time I heard it was through Edan’s 2001 mixtape Fast Rap.) When Big Daddy Kane rhymed boiling hot over ‘80s turntable gold like “Raw” and “Warm It Up Kane,” he simply employed a method to match the speed of his delivery with the furiously funky beats underneath him. He represented an era when producers like Marley Marl, the Bomb Squad, and Large Professor arranged soul and jazz samples into swinging, ever-quickening tempos, and East Coast rappers worked hard to keep up. From Main Source’s “Live at the BBQ” to A Tribe Called Quest’s “The Scenario,” these songs mark an era when demonstrating mic skills meant rapping with lung collapsing agility. - Mosi Reeves
Typing the words "mp3 blog" in 2018 feels a lot like typing the words "eight-track tape" or "Betamax" or "Friendster"——a snickering acknowledgement of a phenomenon that was once so ubiquitous, yet now feels so distant that its like it never existed. Oh sure, the basic premise of the mp3 blog——"download this cool new song by a band youve never heard before!"——endures across countless music sites these days, and someoftheOGs have miraculously avoided blogger burnout over the course of 15-odd years and/or fortified into robust, well-staffed sites. But gone are the days when mp3 blogs were touted as music-industry disruptors, armchair A&R reps, and your new favorite radio station all in one. (And so too are the days when Clap Your Hands Say Yeah represented the future of indie rock, after taking the online short cut from DIY obscurity to most talked-about band in America seemingly overnight.)"Blog rock" was essentially the "SoundCloud rap" of the 2000s——a nebulously defined subgenre more indicative of where the artists first gained exposure rather than the sound of the music they played. But for all the upheaval the internet had wrought on the music industry, and all the potential it unleashed for underground music scenes around the world, the bands that came to epitomize blog rock were essentially streamlined versions of the dominant indie groups of the day, be it the polished Arcade Fire histrionics of The Black Kids or the plastic Spoon-isms of Sound Team. A lot of the bands on this playlist couldnt bear the weight of the instant online buzz and didnt last longer than an album or two, becoming punchlines in the process in some cases. But in hindsight, blog rock represented another significant step in the ongoing refinement of indie rock——while there may be traces of Sung Tongs-era Animal Collective in The Dodos DNA, its also not a huge leap from the frenetic busker stomp of "Visitor" to the stadium-folk of Mumford & Sons.Presumably, you havent listened to a lot of these songs since you bricked your 80GB iPod Classic sometime in 2009. Heres your chance to revisit all your mid-2000s picks to right-click, without having to worry about your hard-drive capacity.
Click here to subscribe to the Spotify playlist.In 1995, the Dangerous Minds soundtrack yielded the smash hit "Gangstas Paradise" by Coolio and LV. The rest of soundtrack featured respected West Coast acts like Rappin 4-Tay and Big Mike flanked by Aaron Hall, Immature, and DeVante Swing of Jodeci. It was a winning formula: R&B + credible rappers + covers of 70s song. The album went triple platinum.A year later, Atlantic/Big Beat would try their hardest to copy the Dangerous Minds formula, ironically with the High School High soundtrack. The film itself, starring Jon Lovitz, Tia Carrere, and Mekhi Phifer, was a modest hit, spoofing the Michelle Pfeiffer-in-a-leather-jacket approach to reaching the "urban" youth in school, a formula already spun in films like The Substitute, Lean on Me, and Stand and Deliver. The soundtrack was designed for crossover success, largely off the inclusion of Quad City DJs breakout dance hit "The Train (Come On Ride It).” "The Train" went platinum, hitting No. 3 on the charts. Atlantic/Big Beat also double downed on The Braids, a Canadian art rock band, and their slick R&B cover of Queens "Bohemian Rhapsody," produced by Stephan Jenkins of Third Eye Blind. It failed to catch on like "Gangstas Paradise,” peaking at No. 42 on Billboard.Unknowingly, the High School High soundtrack was a trojan horse for the last remaining non-jiggy major label rap acts to get one last check. The year was 1996, or in terms of Jiggy vs. Real Hip Hop, Year Two post-Bad Boy. Acts like KRS-One, Grand Puba, Pete Rock, A Tribe Called Quest, and De La Soul, all on major labels for close to a decade by 1996, were slowly being erased from the charts in favor of Puffy and Biggies Steven Soderbergh approach to the game: one for you, one for me. In their case, it was one song for the ladies and the clubs, one song for the streets: "One More Chance Remix" and "The What”; "Big Poppa" and "Warning”; "Juicy" and "Unbelievable.” The graduating class of Raps Golden Age had two choices: adapt or die. The lineup on the High School High soundtrack chose the latter. Whereas acts like Mic Geronimo switched their entire sound in the Post-Bad Boy wave, from boom-bap poet on 1995s The Natural to jiggy thug on 1997s Vendetta, Artifacts, Wu-Tang, and The Roots made the kind of songs that got them signed in the first place, years before Christopher Wallace changed the landscape. When you remove forgettable R&B cuts from The Braxtons, Changing Faces, and Faith Evans from the tracklisting, and toss Quad City DJs and The Braids onto your random gym mix, what you have left is an uncontaminated collection of rap songs that were radioactive on major label releases by 1997. Even Lil Kims contribution, "Queen Bitch," ghostwritten by Biggie, still garners her respect 20 years later from the headz for being so raw — Kim bragged about being a "disease free bitch.” Wu-Tangs "Wu Wear: A Garment Renaissance" was a strategic audible billboard for their new clothing line by RZAs brother/Wu Wear CEO Power, and it peaked at No. 6 on the rap charts. Pete Rock & Large Professors "The Rap World" was a favorite of Biggie himself; he hummed the chorus to Pete on a chance meeting a year later. The Roots carried on their gloomy slanged-out paranoia from illadelph halflife on "The Good, The Bad and the Desolate.” And "Semi-Automatic: Full Rap Metal Jacket" proved why Wu-Tang slipped up not by releasing an Inspectah Deck solo album immediately after Wu-Tang Forever.The new tracklisting of High School High is a snapshot of rap before lines in the sand were drawn between Real vs. Commercial. All the rappers on the album were indeed commercial acts, but their sound wasnt indebted to Diana Ross records. Almost every rapper involved would go on to make statements against commercial rap (or even at Biggie and Puffy, directly or subliminally). The reaction to the Anti-Puffy Movement would later inspire classic albums from Company Flow, Lootpack, and Freddie Foxxx on an indie level and the beginning of the Ruff Ryders sound — both sects deliberately made unpretty rap in defiance. But for a brief time, on a soundtrack to a movie few still remember, rappers werent in opposition to anyone, they were only trying to further their own cause. -- Zilla Rocca
Justin Peroff is the drummer for Toronto indie-rockestra Broken Social Scene. Hes also the manager for Harrison and McCallaman, two artists at the forefront of the citys avant-R&B/future-funk movement. For his Dowsers playlist, Peroff shines a light on the beatmakers, MCs, and art-pop savants who comprise the citys current musical vanguard.
"I love Toronto. Lately, the source of my citys inspiration comes from the young music communities whose members average birth year is 1995. That also happens to be the year I left the burbs for the city and officially called Toronto my home. This playlist is an example of that inspiration." — Justin Peroff
Broken Social Scene were on a roll in the early ‘00s. After releasing the great, mostly instrumental Feel Good Lost in 2001, their big breakthrough came the following year with the instant classic You Forgot It In People, which achieved a perfect balance of being simultaneously intimate and monumental. Coming up in the middle of the post-millennial indie-rock revival, BSS held their own among bands like The Strokes, Interpol, and The Walkmen. In 2005, they released their masterful and complex self-titled record, which contained a gigantic list of contributing personnel and boasted a 63-minute runtime. BSS were steadily becoming one of the most powerful supergroups in modern rock. Then, they took a sort-of hiatus, and exploded into a diaspora of side-projects before releasing Forgiveness Rock Record in 2010. So what, exactly, did they do during those five years? Okay, take a deep breath.In 2007, Kevin Drew released his first “solo” album, under the title of Broken Social Scene Presents Kevin Drew: Spirit If..., which was followed by what was essentially a Broken Social Scene tour that included tracks from that album and also from their previous records. The following year saw Brendan Canning’s own project, Broken Social Scene Presents Brendan Canning: Something for All of Us… (which featured guest vocals from Drew). Guitarist Andrew Whiteman’s band Apostle of Hustle released the jangly, shuffling National Anthem of Nowhere, whose title track had been road-tested in BSS shows; guitarist, bassist, and horn player Charles Spearin (also of Do Make Say Think) organized an avant-garde record called The Happiness Project. Feist released her mainstream breakthrough The Reminder (whose “I Feel It All” shares DNA with Drew’s “Safety Bricks”); fellow vocalists Emily Haines and Amy Millan put out their respective solo debuts.These albums represent a whirlwind of musical energy—yet, none of it went towards a proper Broken Social Scene album. What would have happened if the band had put out an album that reflected its members’ work from 2006-2009, instead of waiting until 2010 to team up for Forgiveness Rock Record? We can’t know for sure, but we can get close. This playlist envisions a “lost” BSS record of sorts, a potential album that never existed. So, close your eyes, travel back to the person you were 10 years ago, and pretend you’ve discovered a new Broken Social Scene record. Here we go.