Ground Beats

It's a sad thing when you think about the fact that had the music industry adopted it's current generation's "Image is everything" policy, you know the cleavage six pack abs 14 hours a day in the gym standard, that artists like Aretha or Patti might not have ever become true superstars. Back in the day when and A&R saw that an artist had talent, they were paired with a producer and they went to work on the music first. The image, though still important came second. And the final product was a balance between the two.

I've seen a lot of those old photos of classic soul singers in the studio. No make-up. No fancy gear. You didn't go in there to be seen. You went in there to make music. As I made a note of in yesterday's blog, I think that this is unfortunately one of Jennifer Hudson's problems. The same can be said for the would be solo career of Nicole Scherzinger, a woman whose debut seems almost destined for greatness. I'll start with Nicole.

I mean let's be serious for a second. The Pussycat Dolls is as much of a singing group as the collective Lost Boys were rappers (What the fuck did Pretty Lou do anyway?) The whole racket was that they were a multi-cultural dance troupe with sizzling hot bodies that had one singers the rest of them backed up. And the cool thing about it when asked was that they admitted to it. And it made the group's creators and the folks who developed them a whole lot of money. But musically it was all Nicole. So when she started stepping out to do other things, I figured that she could pair up with just about anyone and still crank out a hit record. But with two failed single attempts the record went nowhere. I don't even know if it came out. And now Nicky is back with the Dolls who strangely enough have a new hit out that's kinda dope, or at least catchy enough to start them back on the road towards another platinum plaque. The girl will be alright, but I was hoping that she could be so much more outside of the franchise.

Jennifer Hudson's case is sadder because she's still trying to get her feet wet. She gets shitted on by Simon Cowell and then pops up in Dreamgirls, where she steals the show. She gets an Oscar for said performance, which vaults her into a public spotlight without an album or any follow-up roles in the chamber. Managers and agents swoop in and the next thing she knows she's on the cover of Vogue. But she's never had the time (I think) to even figure out exactly what she wants to be. Sure, give a stage and a mic and she'll blow the doors off of any crowd. But in terms of setting her own mood she's floating on a raging river and the work she's kicked out since then has shown it.
I personally wonder if the Sex and the City thing came up last minute, as she, even there, seemed to be going through the motions somewhat.
This morning I heard her new single, "Spotlight," a generic song that I'm sure I'd like if it got played enough. But by itself I once again don't believe her. In truth I think that it may now take a long while for her to find her own voice as both a singer and actress, a process not unlike what her Effie had to do. And as she's not doing music for the kiddies, I don't think what I feel has anything to do with my age. I think that as the money whores up in the emptying but still present music industry are looking for quick fixes to keep the coffers at least somewhat filled, the new move (in a manner very similar to book publishing) is to stamp a producer's name on an artist image, throw the record out there and hope that the people eat it up. It's this sort of philosophy that's caused talented but somewhat undeveloped artists like Trey Songs, Bobby Valentino, Amerie and others to drop multiple records that were there but not there.

A few years back Andre Three Stacks hypothesized that the end of hip hop as he knew it came with the rise of the superproducer. When there are five people at a time who have their hands in a good 75% of the hits, with everyone else trying to clone the same sound in hopes of wearing the crown themselves, you create and environment where what's good almost instantly diluted and injected with all kinds of flavors that shouldn't be there. It's the different between watching a child grow up with parents and it's own experiences and cloning one in a petri dish. Yeah they might look the same. But they'll never have the same heart.

But I don't want you to think that I'm giving up on popular music, though most of the stuff I've really been into on that level recently has generally been counter-cultural. The real heat is coming from independent releases, folks who forewent the majors to build a following by working their ass off on stage and by the quick word of mouth that's come with downloading. A-town, Detroit, Philly, DC and Cali as a whole are doing a lot of dope music that isn't getting national airplay. But we find it. From from hand to hand and ear to ear the good gets to those who can truly appreciate it. I really do believe that. And as an artist who sees himself now as more of the latter than the former, I have to. Out.