Trip-Hop page 2
The fundamental trip-hop tempo is slow, slow but relentless, presided over by immense bass figures, as deep but less booming than those of house music. There are lots of rhythm drop-outs, as in dub, and inserted snippets of instruments or noises proliferate wildly in the cleverest mixes. The tone of many trip-hop numbers is sleepy, jaded, but the lyrics -- sung in a smolder by women, rapped softly by men -- spring, likely as not, from the raw wounds of social or romantic anguish.Two highlights of Tricky's Maxinquaye are a sulfurous remake of Public Enemy's "Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos" and "Suffocated Love." In both songs, the cold fury of the language, the cold beats of Tricky, and the cold intonation of vocalist Martine present the strangulation of a citizen by the state and the mutual freeze-out of two ostensible lovers as destruction that's inevitable in a world of sleepwalkers. As another track puts it, "Hell is Around the Corner," where there's no motivation, either. Yet Maxinquaye oozes a wicked delight, and its horror in the midst of nothingness affirms the strength of music as a sound instead of silence. A perversely irresistible album.
Miasmal moods shot through with shuddering beats and a grim, implacable assurance that the dance goes on but the party's over and yes, the clubs and guns will be coming out soon.
If only because of the warmth of singers Monday Michiru and Sonya Vallet, Krush would be a more conventionally pleasurable work than Maxinquaye. Numbers like the easy-rolling "Big City Lover" and deep-diving "Into the Water" earn smidgens of optimism through very hardshelled arrangements. And the big finish for the album, "Ruff-Neck Jam," is just that -- bohemian trip-hop with a dash of hard bop jazz's icy cool. Krush is not just black, but noir as well. And the terse comments in song of both Tricky and Krush, neither raging nor reassuring, are tailored for this era.
Extended exposure to the submerged rumble of trip-hop brings to mind a disturbing echo of a period farther back than early Soul II Soul or even dub reggae. Perhaps the primeval ancestor of trip-hop was Sly Stone's "There's a Riot Goin' On" (1971). That classic offers similar miasmal moods shot through with shuddering beats and a grim, implacable assurance that the dance goes on but the party's over and yes, the clubs and guns will be coming out soon. Almost against the performer's will, the songs detail the absolute collapse of communication and fellowship. Full of zapped anxiety, both Sly and trip-hop pulse away in an ominous void, in fear of storms approaching.
Other Trip-Hop Points | Roots of Trip-Hop
