Daedelus talks Low End Theory and the Boxer Rebellion

Back before “beat music” operated as the umbrella term encompassing the Low End Theory sound, there was Daedelus, the Santa Monica-born musician known for breaching genre constraints and for a set of stellar muttonchops that could humiliate Martin Van Buren. Hovering at the nebulous nexus between hip-hop, drum and bass, jazz and musique concrete, the musician, born Alfred Weisberg-Roberts, forged a singular aesthetic back when break beats and B-Boy poses still ruled the Los Angeles underground.

Only eight years into his career, the prolific producer already has released 10 solo albums, more than a dozen EPs and miscellaneous projects, plus full-length collaborations with prolix Project Blowed emcee Bus Driver, his wife Laura Darlington (under the moniker the Long Lost) and Dublab doyen Frosty (Adventure Time). Somehow, he found time to remix everyone from Wax Tailor to Sa-Ra, while amassing the finest collection of Edwardian coats this side of Roger Daltrey circa “A Quick One, While He’s Away.”

We The People Festival postponed until early 2010

Considering that local hip-hop-heads have waited years for Madvillain to reunite and perform tracks from the much-anticipated "Madvillainy 2," it's only fitting that they'll have to wait a little longer, as representatives from the We the People Festival today announced its postponement until early next year due to "ongoing economic challenges."

Originally scheduled to be held at Los Angeles Center Studios this Saturday, the festival also was to be headlined by Bad Religion, Suicidal Tendencies, Glitch Mob, Pepper, and Flobots. Representatives for the festival did not return e-mails sent today requesting further information, only releasing a prepared statement: "As organizers, we are committed to presenting only the finest event possible for this important movement. Due to ongoing economic challenges, we decided our best option was to move the event to a later date to insure these standards are maintained for the benefit of our important, loyal audience."

All tickets will be refunded at the point of purchase. Presented by Project Sweatshop Inc., the festival's stated mission is to "demonstrate the conscious side of all genres of music as a tool to demolish racial and social boundaries, while presenting a platform for the raw, uncensored views of the underground scene." Last year's performers included Suicidal Tendencies, Tom Morello, Murs, Les Claypool, Dilated Peoples, and EPMD.

-- Jeff Weiss

Album review: Rakim's 'The Seventh Seal'

It's been a long decade since Rakim's last album, a period in which the New York native's hometown lost its role as hip-hop's locus to the South, the Midwest and the decentralizing tendencies of the Internet. It's been an even lengthier 23 years since his debut 12" single with Eric B. revolutionized rap with its complex rhyming patterns, authoritative baritone, funky break-beats and indomitable cool.

The apotheosis of rap's first Golden Age, Rakim spent the lion's share of the 2000s mired in label purgatory at Dr. Dre's Aftermath Records. Sadly, the fruits of their collaboration remain unheard, with Rakim unwisely discarding the Dre beats in favor of a cast of mostly unknowns. Indeed, the "Seventh Seal" is undone by its boilerplate production -- rote drum patterns, predictable piano lines and antiseptic studio technique.

The rappers who have stayed artistically vital despite advancing age (Ghostface Killah, Scarface, Slick Rick) are champion storytellers who continue to burnish their craft. Rakim remains frustratingly opaque, with the brunt of his songs dedicated to rapping about rapping. The 41-year-old attempts to channel the ferocity of his Reagan-era rhymes while balancing a spiritual side ("Man Above") and romantic disposition ("You & I," "Psychic Love," "Still in Love.")

Of course, there are few better formalists than Rakim, and when the music matches the master ("Holy Are U," "How to Emcee") the album reaches the rarefied heights of long ago. Unfortunately, all too often the God sounds like a mere mortal.

-- Jeff Weiss

Rakim
"The Seventh Seal"
Ra Records/Tuscan Villa/SMC Recordings
Two and a half stars (Out of four)

Album review: Wyclef Jean's 'From the Hut, to the Projects, to the Mansion'

During the second track of his latest album, Wyclef Jean relates the tale of an autograph-seeking fan mistaking him for Black Eyed Peas frontman will.i.am. It's an interesting illustration of how far below the radar the former Fugees frontman has fallen since he, Pras and Lauryn Hill topped the charts in the mid-to-late '90s.

The Haitian born-humanitarian stayed busy throughout the 2000s, producing and penning tunes for the likes of John Legend, Bono and Shakira (for whom he crafted 2007's "Hips Don't Lie.") But as Jean himself declares on "The Streets Pronounce Me Dead," hard-core hip-hop heads were chagrined about his career trajectory: "Last time, [they] felt me was when I rhymed with Big Pun," Jean declares.

Partnering with mix-tape master DJ Drama, Jean seems determined to change that. Here, he introduces his Toussaint St. Jean alter-ego, inspired by Haitian liberator Toussaint L'Ouverture. The fictional guise coupled with furor at his also-ran status has injected a hunger in Jean. Childhood anecdotes about receiving his first pair of shoes and the crushing poverty in Haiti, ("Warrior's Anthem") provide a gritty poignancy he'd lacked since going pop. "Toussaint Vs. Bishop," and "Letter from the Penn" triumph thanks to Jean's sincerity.

The collection is not without its missteps: The M.I.A.-aping "Slumdog Millionaire" enlists Cyndi Lauper for hook duty and bafflingly lets her construct her own hood mythology. But overall, "From the Hut, to the Projects" amounts to a successful resurrection.

-- Jeff Weiss

Wyclef Jean
"From the Hut, to the Projects, to the Mansion"
Carnival House/Megaforce/Sony Music
Three stars (Three stars out of four)

Wale watch: The D.C. rapper on the blog age, Twitter and his debut album 'Attention Deficit'

Wale is exhausted. Bivouacked in a lounge across the street from Interscope’s Santa Monica headquarters, the Washington, D.C., native wears a countenance of weary resignation, preparing for the first in a seemingly never-ending string of interviews. When I tell him that I’ll try not to ask the same stupid questions, he exhales a sigh a relief.

It’s enough for the dreadlocked 25-year-old to handle the rigors of opening for Jay-Z and N.E.R.D. at sold-out arenas across America (as he’s been done for the last several weeks), but he’s simultaneously in breakneck promotional mode in advance of the release of “Attention Deficit,” his official debut that drops Tuesday. Accordingly, he’s frantically checking his phone, Twittering and trying to stay sane, knowing too well that judgment day looms a week away.

The problem is that Wale might be built for the old industry model. A complex craftsman in a fast-food rap world that rewards simplicity and prolificacy, Wale is trapped between binaries. Arguably the most buzzed-about rapper to emerge out of the blogosphere’s tower of babble, he’s acutely aware that to achieve commercial success outside of the Internet bubble, he needs a radio hit. But as he readily admits, “I’m not a radio artist yet.” So in a bid to earn visibility, he collaborated with Lady Gaga and Gucci Mane for his first two singles, alienating many of the purists in his vociferous fan base.

Compounding the disappointment was that neither cut caught fire, though the Gaga-aided “Chillin” has nearly gone gold. Moreover, “Attention Deficit” is riddled with commercial compromises that were absent on the free giveaways he made his name on: the outstanding “100 Miles and Running” and the “The Mixtape About Nothing,” a “Seinfeld”-themed opus that shifted people’s paradigm of what to expect from a mix tape. But in spite of the myriad hoops that the corporate brass forced him to jump through, Wale has delivered the strongest debut yet of XXL’s much ballyhooed Freshman 10 class (Kid Cudi, Asher Roth, Charles Hamilton, et al), one that augurs well for a lengthy and successful career.

In advance of his show Sunday night (with Jay-Z, N.E.R.D. and J. Cole), Pop & Hiss spoke to Wale about the difficulties of getting to release a major-label rap album in 2009, the negativity and fickleness of the blog age, and why he Twitters so much.

Like many of the more blog-buzzed rappers, you’ve been subject to a lot of rumors, beefs real or fabricated, and a level of media attention that rappers a generation ago may have had to face, but certainly not on as large of a scale. Has this been a difficult thing for you to cope with?

Q-Tip once told me that 15 years ago, all people had to judge you on was your album, one or two interviews, your record for the radio and the picture on the album cover. That’s it. The only way you can remain relevant is to give yourself up, unless you’re blessed to be in one of those every-once-in-a-while Drake situations. But that’s not even a once-in-a-while thing; that’s a one-time thing.

Live review: Phish at Empire Polo Club in Indio

The band's three-day Halloween weekend blowout leaves its loyal legion of fans heated up and happy.

Besides the Rolling Stones, U2 and Bruce Springsteen, it's hard to think of many rock acts that could crowd the Empire Polo Club in Indio for a three-day festival featuring no supporting acts or other live entertainment.

But the legendary Vermont jam titan Phish has long operated outside the realm of normalcy, with a rabid fan base closer to addicted acolytes than casual admirers.

When long-gestating message board rumors were finally confirmed months ago, Phish fanatics instantly began making preparations to trek to the site of the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival, where the band held its eighth festival -- the first in five years. This weekend's performances also marked the quartet's first return to the Southland since reuniting in March for a series of shows in Hampton, Va.

Naturally, the event's momentousness wasn't lost on the crowd (estimated by officials to be between 30,000 and 40,000) who hailed the band rapturously when it opened its first of eight sets with "Party Time," a lissome funk-workout portending surprises and fun to follow.

Indeed, the band's first night rarely disappointed, with the 26-year veteran delving into its back catalog to render favorites such as "Prince Caspian," "Wolfman's Brother," and "Down With Disease," with a rubbery danceability -- the Polo Field at times looking like a fluorescent wave of bobbing heads, twirling glow sticks and flailing limbs.

The following afternoon, the band ripped through cuts from its '90s songbook (typically considered its studio zenith), a thank-you of sorts to longtime fans willing to weather the vicissitudes of a storied saga filled with acrimony, addiction and sundry inconsistencies.

Yet throughout the sweltering Mojave afternoon, Phish seemed to conserve energy in preparation for Saturday night's second set, a start-to-finish rendition of the Rolling Stones' classic 1972 album, "Exile on Main Street."

It was the band's special Halloween Show, the first it's done in 11 years and only Phish's fifth such performance ever, following earlier versions of the Beatles' White Album, Talking Heads' "Remain in Light," the Who's "Quadrophenia," and the Velvet Underground's "Loaded."

Against the soft pink lights and palm trees, the band reworked the Stones' rotgut-blues opus with symphonic syncopated groove, backed by the celestial harmonies of Sharon Jones and Saundra Williams and a three-piece horns section.

It was a masterful stroke and contrasted with the band's acoustic set the previous afternoon, revealing a versatility surprising only those who haven't followed the band's career closely.

A survival guide to Phish's Festival 8

This coming weekend, Coachella Valley will witness a locust-like descent from a 40,000-strong horde of hippies, a scale unseen in the Golden State since at the very least, last weekend’s 40th Celebration of Woodstock in Golden Gate Park (a murky and monotonous tale for a different post).

Indeed, over Halloween weekend, Phish, the Vermont jam-band behemoths, will be throwing their first All Hallow’s Eve festival since 2004 and their first ever west of the Mississippi, featuring a staggering eight sets in three days. It all includes a Sunday acoustic performance with coffee and doughnuts, an organic farmer’s market and a 100-foot Ferris wheel.

In Phish tradition, the band will play a special Halloween set in which they cover the entirety of another band’s album. According to the most recent update to the Festival 8 website, the remaining candidates are: David Bowie’s “Hunky Dory” or “The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust & the Spiders From Mars,” Genesis’ “The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway,” Jimi Hendrix’s “Electric Ladyland,” King Crimson’s “Larks'  Tongues in Aspic,” Led Zeppelin's self-titled debut, MGMT’s “Oracular Spectacular,” Michael Jackson’s “Thriller,” Prince’s “Purple Rain,” Radiohead’s “Kid A,” the Rolling Stones’ “Exile on Main St.,” and Van Morrison’s “Astral Weeks.”

Considering Michael Jackson tributes are trendier than Twitter, “Thriller” would seem to be human nature.

In an effort to prepare the intrepid souls trekking east to Indio’s Empire Polo Fields, Pop and Hiss has prepared a survival guide so that you avoid sunstroke, shady scalpers and bad breakfasts.

Where the buffalo roam: Avi Buffalo signs to Sub Pop

Try not to hate Avi Buffalo. Still a couple weeks shy of his 19th birthday, the Long Beach-bred singer-songwriter has appeared in Rolling Stone, has been the toast of nearly every local blog and most recently signed a recording deal with Sub Pop, arguably the most storied indie rock label -- all this at a time when most teenagers are grappling with lingering acne and how to score a keg without a fake ID.

The pact with the Seattle label capped a six-month ascent in which the falsetto-voiced guitar prodigy born Avigdor Zahner-Isenberg rose from playing Long Beach house parties and coffee shops to a residency at the Echo, tour dates with Beach House, and spots at the Monolith and F Yeah Festivals. Not bad for a guy who, as of this spring, was “failing five classes and getting Cs and Ds in the others, trying to do the bare minimum to graduate [from Long Beach’s Millikan High School].”

Def Jam again sets its sights on Los Angeles: Compton's Y.G. signs to the major

Since Warren G’s “Regulate…G Funk Era” gave Def Jam/Rush Associated Labels a much needed hit in 1994, arriving just as reports of the label's insolvency surfaced, the New York-based powerhouse has largely steered clear of West Coast rap, hewing almost exclusively to East Coast and Southern artists like Jay-Z, Ghostface Killah and Method Man, as well as Young Jeezy. But as the legendary imprint prepares to celebrate its 25th anniversary, the label has returned to the Southland, inking a deal with Compton’s Y.G., a rapper loosely affiliated with the jerkin’ movement, and one who has amassed an impressive regional following sans radio or commercial backing.

Best known for a series of scabrous sex-themed songs with unprintable titles, the 19-year-old has swapped gang life for the recording booth and hasn’t looked back, racking up enviable MySpace metrics: over 1.5 million profile views, a pair of songs with over 1 million plays each and a third approaching seven digits.

According to Max Gousse, the senior VP of A&R at Island/Def Jam who inked the rapper, the signing stemmed from a newfound emphasis on West Coast artists by label president/CEO L.A. Reid, as well as, of course, Y.G.’s skills and stage presence.

“It started with L.A. making the investment and commitment in bringing out three A&R’s to the West Coast. We’ve been out here searching for the cream of the crop,” said Gousse, who is best known for developing B2K. “I didn’t sign Y.G. because of his connection to the jerkin' movement. I signed him because he has a command of the crowd that reminded me of the classic MCs. You don’t see many young rappers with that kind of command, especially from someone who has never signed a record deal.”

For the intricately tattooed teenager, the signing represents both a form of salvation and the culmination of a long courting process.

Tonight: Breakestra at the El Rey

Organic. The quintessential 21st-century trope — used to hawk everything from pesticide-free tomatoes to online viral marketing campaigns to buzz bands with aspirations of authenticity and loose limbs. Forget the whole grain, Whole Foods connotations, Breakestra is organic — a fluid and funky fusion between the city’s coffeehouse indie-rap scene of the mid- to late-'90s and the breakbeat-heavy samples they stole from their parents’ crates.

Today, the notion of another 10-piece band re-working Stax, Motown and the holy, dirty groove of James Brown and the Meters feels slightly trite. After all, everyone from the Menahan Street Band to Maxwell has paid homage to retro soul, with the sub-genre seemingly the most viable antiphony to the auto-tuned excesses of contemporary R&B. Yet, at a time when most revivalists had just parted with their New Jack Swing gear, Breakestra were vanguards, emerging as an Angeleno analogue to Brooklyn’s Dap-Kings, full of beach ball-fat bass lines, heaven-sent horns and filthy drum fills.

Quickly winning converts with legendary weekly gigs at the Breaks and its successor Root Down (the weekly hip-hop night promoted and curated by Breakestra mastermind “Music Man” Miles Tackett), the band soon received an offer from Stones Throw honcho Peanut Butter Wolf to release their debut 7', “Getcho Soul Together.”

Several EPs and a Ubiquity Records full-length later, Breakestra are back with their latest excellent slab of funk, “From Dusk Till Dawn,” released on London’s venerable Strut Records imprint. Partially a tribute to their deceased comrade DJ Dusk, the disc finds Tackett and company expanding their palette to include fuzzy Afro-psyche flourishes, Colombian cumbia and even a cello solo.

In advance of their album release party tonight at the El Rey, Tackett spoke to Pop & Hiss about the new record, the memory of Dusk and his favorite breaks of all time.