Mind if I turn on*.the radio?

We talk a lot on A Story To Tell about great musical artists, obscure songs, forgotten albums, killer party tunes, all sorts of things. However, it is not that often that we talk about inanimate objects. There wouldn't on the face of it appear to be too much scope for discussion, after all. However when you stop to think about it, one of the interesting aspects of musical creativity is that all of it, with the obvious exception of the human voice and the use of body parts for percussion, is made with objects that of themselves can do very little, the instruments themsleves. Now, unless your life is one massive Fantasia sequence, where objects animate themselves and spring to life willy-nilly, or you are a huge acid casualty, this statement may appear pretty banal.

Of course instruments require the input of us humans to create the wonderment of music, the clue is in the name you idiot writer. They are instruments, instruments of our creativity, the mere vehicles of our musical output. But the relationship, of course is symbiotic, and what is amazing is the wonderful array of instruments that we have at our disposal, increased manifold by advances also in electronic equipment, and how we have learnt to use them, to diversify their sounds, to test their very limits, and in doing so stretch the boundaries of our own perceptions and understanding of the world we inhabit. Is that not part of what music is all about? And the story of how instruments first came about is surely an interesting tale to tell as many are absolutely bizarre concepts taken out of their accepted context, or perhaps that is just me.

Now I don't know how the guitar was first invented, but I do know that Hendrix could do things with an electrified version that defy belief. I don't know who first twisted brass into a trumpet shape, but I do know that Miles Davis could bring sounds out of it that sounded like nothing else on earth. I don't know how the African Kora came to be, but I do know that Toumane Diabate is a god-like virtuoso on it. However, I do know, and now I am getting to the point of this posting, who invented the LM-1 Drum Computer, and believe it or not you also know the sound that this machine makes. I also know that one particular exponent used it to an effect, if not as startlingly creatively as those talents, then every bit as masterly, and arguably with more influence.

Step forward, of course, the one and only Prince, whose use of the Linn Electronics LM-1, one of the first programmable percussion machines and the first to use digital samples of real drum sounds, came to define his work throughout the 1980s. Now it would be churlish in the extreme to reduce Prince's incredible musical talents and prodigious output in this decade to one tool, and this is not the point here. But rather I just wanted to draw attention to the instrument itself and quite how ubiquitous it is in much of Prince's best work. Pick out any (yes any) tune from "1999" or "Purple Rain" for an example of how good the sound from this machine is. I told you that you knew its sound. Indeed it is not just Prince who used it extensively.

Along with its successor the LM-2 (LinnDrum, which added cymbals to the mix), and the Roland TR-808, the machine arguably defined the decade, certainly the early part of it. And so, for many reasons, the Linn Drum, and inventor Roger Linn, should be celebrated, and their importance to music heralded. If for nothing else than without them we would not have "The Ballad Of Dorothy Parker", and I for one am unwilling to countenance such a reality. It is just too gruesome for words.

Think outside the boxxx

When rap's most dynamic duo, Outkast, released their critically acclaimed double disc "Speakerboxxx/The Love Below" in 2003, there was understandably a lot of fuss made. Was this a sign of tensions breaking the long-time friends apart? A portent of things to come? A musical diversion of tastes that saw Andre 3000 get his Princely funk on, while Big Boi carried on the trademark hip-hop sound perfected through the astonishingly consistent previous four albums, and culminating in 2000's incredible "Stankonia"? Was it a clever marketing ploy to allow for the musical meanderings of Andre 3000 while still giving rap heads their market share of beats to head-nod to? Or a devilish marketing tool to test the waters of Andre's pop credentials before an all out assault on the market that lapped up the all-conquering pop-soul of "Hey Ya" but would never countenance listening to any Ghettomusick?


Well, the answer, as it turned out, was probably all and none of these at the same time. But in many ways the reasons behind the development of the album are irrelevant because what we were given with this unprecedented hip-hop album was close to perfection, a high watermark of rap in the 21st century and a record that transcends its allotted genre, to stand as simply a great musical reference point. All of this being the case, it has always seemed that, with its P-Funk mimicry, multi-instrument explorations, soulful vocals and spacey metaphors for love that Andre 3000's "The Love Below" was always going to get the lion's share of attention and plaudits.



Why? Well basically because people don't expect rappers to do that, and so when they do, and do it well, critics and fans alike can fawn in breathless wonder, marvelling at the sheer artistry of it all. Now don't get me wrong, "The Love Below" is a great album of itself, with some particular high-points such as the undeniable genius of "Hey Ya" and the quite beautiful "Baby, Take Off Your Cool". But my questions is really whether it would be so heralded, or even noticed, were it not an established rapper turning his trade on its head, albeit a rapper from a group who have set the standard for funky quality and cornered innovation as an established trademark. Possibly not. "The Love Below" glitters, but is it really all gold? On the other hand, Big Boi's "Speakerboxxx" is a stunning tour de force of straight-up hip-hop from start to finish, cementing the Outkast sound and moving it on to new levels of brilliance.


It stands alone arguably much more easily than it's soulful sibling, and it is this that I wanted to draw attention to. I don't want to denigrate the former at all, because I genuinely do love it, I just want to give a shout out to Big Boi for his half of the equation. Understated on its release, "Speakerboxxx" is simply one of the best rap albums of the last 10 years, point blank. It is easy to miss the point that Big Boi, despite his more traditional rap alpha-male leanings, has many things to say. Significant things. While "The Love Below" is an essentially narcissistic and sometime syrupy play on the intertwined themes of love and sex, Big Boi's manifesto takes in the Iraq conflict, religious musings, single parenthood, social injustice, as well as love in its many colours. Of course he also gets his pimp on at times, and all to a sonic backdrop of relentlessly impressive and ground-breaking funk, soul and ass-shaking bass, just like the dirty south expects.


There are heavy rumours of an actual solo album slated for release this year, provisionally entitled "Sir Luscious Leftfoot", and tipped to be along the musical lines of "Speakerboxxx" and so in some ways my assertions will be put to the test. Whatever the case, one thing is for certain, and that is that Big Boi can rhyme with the best of them, and I look forward to another unadulterated feast of good hip-hop. Like any good relationship, Outkast's strength lies in the fact that their core stability and trust in one another provides the backdrop for the individuals to flourish, and to service their own creative needs. They can think outside the box without needing to leave it, and that in itself is a thing of beauty

Sweet insomnia

It may well be the case that their 1967 album "Reach Out" marks the accepted high point of the recording career of Motown stalwarts the Four Tops, and it is easy to see why this would be the case. While the latter tracks (or Side 2 in vinyl parlance) are standard covers of popular songs from the hit parade of the day, Side 1 is simply outstanding and as close to Motown perfection as any other album to come out of Hitsville, USA. A long player that includes three of the greatest soul songs ever committed to plastic * "Bernadette", "Reach Out, I'll Be There" and "Standing In The Shadows Of Love" * is always going to be well regarded.

However for me the archetypal Four Tops song is not one of these superbly sophisticated pop productions, as incredible as they are, but rather their first offering for Motown, the simple yet sensational "Baby, I Need Your Loving". Written by the genius threesome of Holland-Dozier-Holland, for whom the Four Tops were the main male vocal group outlet and with whom they had a dynamic partnership similar to that with The Supremes, "Baby I Need Your Lovin" is just a great pop song. However, what elevates it to brilliance is undoubtedly the quite awesome voice of lead singer Levi Stubbs. For me Stubbs is one of the great vocalists of all time, and his gritty baritone is never better displayed than on this tune.

For a man to swing so sweetly is almost indecent, and while the sentiments of the song are basic, Stubbs' voice adds an ambiguity that elevates it to a new level, and takes what could have been a pathetic plaintive begging to an almost heroic declaration of affection. The production team often wrote Stubbs' vocals as tenor parts to put him at the top of his range and give the vocal performance an added dimension. It is this intentioned straining, combined with Stubbs' own natural vocal power, that provide an added element of drama and tension to the Four Tops' music missing from that of many label mates. And in "Baby I Need Your Loving" the template is set for a quite startling run of success.

One should not forget the vital contribution of the three other band members * Abdul "Duke" Fakir, Renaldo "Obie" Benson and Lawrence Payton * to the group's sound, but Levi Stubbs was born to sing soul music in its truest sense and on this song he single-handedly turns a potentially ordinary single into something spectacular. The lyrics are straightforward, the arrangements relatively unremarkable, and yet in the second verse Stubbs reaches a phenomenal level which sets the bar for the group's output, and arguably for that of Motown's male singers more generally. And when he sings the immortal coda that says that lately he's been losing sleep, a line so effortlessly soulful, surely a million ladies yearned to be the baby whose loving Stubbs so desperately needs. Absolutely timeless. Now, just don't get me started on the Tops' later offering "Loco In Acapulco", for that really is next level!

Robotic Hypnotic

If you're a fan of the brilliant Flight of the Conchords you'll already be well aware of the genius that is the "Robot Song (The Humans Are Dead)" and the inspirational binary solo that closes the tune. Just one example among many of this brilliant and unlikely comedy duo from New Zealand. However, this post is not a diversion into the realms of comedy loves and inspirations (there's time for Chris Morris at some future point), but rather a loose, automaton-themed way to introduce Orange County turntablist and beat-maker par excellence, Free The Robots. Confusing in name (Free The Robots is actually one man band Chris Alfaro, although with heavy collaboration with keyboard/guitar man Phil Nisco) and confusing in classification (his music is undoubtedly hip-hop but could also be equally described accurately as psychedelia, electro, new wave electronic punk, or even straight up jazz), what is not confusing is the straight forward appeal of the music itself.

There is a lot of narcissistic crap on MySpace for sure, bedroom artists who quite frankly should have stayed there, but it has also been an outlet to a wave of musical creativity which has served up some absolute quality that previously may have remained criminally unheard, or at best garnered no more than a local following. And Free The Robots is a prime example of an artist who deserves the global exposure that the web provides. I have to give massive props to our boy Tim up in DC for prompting A Story To Tell to free itself in tune with the robots, huge recommendation, and in turn I can only urge you to also put any machine-based prejudice you may have to one side and step up to press flesh with the androids post haste. And what you will find is some quite brilliantly constructed beats, underlaid with a funky foundation, and wrapped up in a warmly reassuring analog aesthetic, with brilliant samples mixed with original interpolations that firmly puts the mental into instrumental.

Obvious comparisons are with DJ Shadow, RJD2, Cut Chemist, Jel, the Chemical Brothers circa "Exit Planet Dust" or even the downbeats of U.N.K.L.E, but these do a disservice to the original sound of Free The Robots. More fitting similarities might be with progressive producers such as Madlib, Dangermouse or Daedelus and the entire output of Ninja Tunes. But Free The Robots deserves credit for his own crate-digging sound and the evolution that he brings to that particular niche. The Free The Robots EP was released last year and provides a brilliant encapsulation of the new manifesto, but staying true to the roots, MySpace is obviously the best place to sample the samples.

"Jazzhole" is a great tune, all jazzed-up free flowing keys with a classic swingbeat. Meanwhile you may already have heard the most excellent "Diary", using the same Moody Blues sample as Masta Ace on his own brilliant 2001 "Disposable Arts" album, but spot the Jeru and Geto Boys cuts hidden in there also. The beats are fat and dirty, and selected with the crowd-moving mind of a live-DJ who truly knows how to get heads nodding, in time and in recognition. But if the nodding seems a bit too perfectly synchronised then look again for signs of LEDs and wiring, it might just be the robots are free and taking over.

Boom boom, Boom boom

As with so many things in life, the best ideas are often the most simple, but also often the most genius. A case in point comes with a TV programme I caught the other day. It was a repeat of a programme made in 1991, and broadcast on the consistently high quality BBC4 digital channel, whose often quite inspired Arts output provides the UK with an oasis of quality in a desert of pure dross, characterised by sensationalism and reality TV schlock. So here's the idea. Get blues legend John Lee Hooker, put him on a club stage with a chair and a guitar, surround him with some of the finest talents of modern blues musicianship, ask them to play for an hour and record the whole rockin' jamboree. If you are able to find a copy of John Lee Hooker and Friends, recorded live at San Francisco's sadly now defunct Sweetwater Club, then I would heartily recommend it.

Simply sensational, the show provides an example of the understated yet electric presence of John Lee Hooker, possibly the world's greatest ever blues singer and certainly one of the most enduring. Many people may only know Hooker from his cameo as a street-singer in the Blues Brothers film, but to reduce his reputation to this brief turn is to miss out on one of the great stories of African-American music. In the Blues canon he holds an extremely important place, bridging the transition in the 1950s and early 60s from the traditional southern Delta-blues style, with its rural and folk roots, to the electric Blues sound of Chicago as typified by the Chess label and artists such as Muddy Waters and Howlin' Wolf. Hooker was as adept as a solo player on acoustic, as he was on an electric guitar, and it was his mastery of both that ties the traditions together in such a significant way.


Hooker's style of guitar, accompanied by an incessant foot stomping on a wooden palette, was often as rambling as the southern solo bluesmen themselves, and it is this improvisational style that makes his work, both live and recorded so fascinating. In fact, the afore mentioned Blues Brothers appearance was the only segment of the movie filmed and sound recorded live, as Hooker's free-styling made the traditional playback, lip-synching technique impossible. As Hooker himself once stated "it don't take me no three days to record no album". His vocal style was uniquely original, synthesizing spoken word with sung lines and verses, and gave his work a feeling of the impromptu and the unstructured. But in reality, despite the improvisational flourishes and freewheeling approach, his songs are also often extremely complex, shown through his other renown is as an innovator in the field of boogie-woogie blues.


The work of John Lee Hooker is nothing if not captivating, and has a strange hypnotic quality that makes it difficult to tear your eyes and ears away from. His voice is a dark rumble, full of gravitas and a sadness that makes it an instrument custom made for the Blues. Look into his face in some of the later filmed recordings and it is almost like looking at the history of the Blues itself, and by extension looking at a narrative of African-American history so central to the history of the US itself. John Lee Hooker's work was of an exceptional vintage, and it is fitting that in 1989 he gave us one last great piece of work, the brilliant album "The Healer", which again marked a return to increased awareness and live appearances, and was the biggest-selling Blues album ever. If you are looking for an accessible yet integral route into Blues music, you could do a lot worse than begin with his recordings.


Such is the way with the breadth and diversity of labels that he recorded for over the years, and the sheer amount of output, that a good Best Of compilation is as good a place as any or indeed "The Healer" album, although I personally have a fondness for a double album "Live at the Café Au Go Go (and Soledad Prison)". The former sees him backed by an all-star band (including Muddy Waters and Otis Spann) in 1966, and the latter as a solo performer in 1972, the two sides of this quite magnificent and talented musician. Like a very select few, Hooker's Blues is elemental, and for that all music fans owe him a debt.

Warning

Biggie remains a hero of rap to many of us, and Ready To Die a certified, undoubted classic of hip-hop or any other genre. But while the LP marks the emergence of perhaps the greatest rapper of all time, I wanted to take a moment to pay homage to the other central force in this tale of the creation of a masterpiece. Not the Diddy-man, although let's give credit where it is due to the creativity and commercial sensitivity that Puffy (as was) brought to the project, as well as the talents of Chucky Thompson and The Hitmen production team who helped him mould these elements. Nor even to cameo beat-making from Lord Finesse and DJ Premier, the latter simply killing it on the aptly titled "Unbelievable", and the former providing the suitably chilling backdrop to Big's suicidal endnote.

While all of these people are crucial to the album's success, I think that if anybody is going to be credited with significance aside from the rapper himself it has to be producer Easy Mo Bee. Mo Bee may have only produced 6 out of the 15 full tracks on the album, but the run of tunes ("Things Done Changed" aside) which begin the album are all his, and it is this which arguably sets the tone for Biggie's greatness. From "Gimme The Loot", through "Machine Gun Funk" and "Warning", to "Ready To Die" Big unleashes the lyrical brilliance and storytelling gift that defines his presence in rap forever more.

The mix of street stories, hardcore imagery, humour and amazing sonic picture-painting is never better displayed than here, and I believe is crucial in understanding just why Biggie Smalls became so big and such a well-regarded rapper. The album is brilliant from start to finish. Indeed you could argue that it gets stronger as you progress through it, but that is to miss the point I am making slightly, which is that those four tracks, the mixture of Biggie's unique vocal tones, never-bettered delivery and lyrical invention, and Mo Bee's bluesy, understated funk beats, laced with heavy bass and jazz inflections, make the rest of the album possible. They have you believing in everything he says and does from the off, and establish an optimum level of perfection which is never allowed to be dropped throughout. And let's face it, if there is a greater rap than the one Big' spits in "Warning" I am yet to hear it. Two verses of perfection, and as sinister a use of Isaac Hayes' "Walk On By" as anyone could ever conceive.

These tunes are also amongst the first that Biggie dropped for the album, and so show in some ways the emergence of his own confidence in the booth, his own mastery of his vocal techniques, and thus the birth of what is rightly now credited as genius. Mo Bee played no small part in this process, and because of that I for one will be eternally grateful. Ready To Die is far from Mo Bee's only accomplishment, and props have to go to him also for his full body of work, from early Big Daddy Kane through his Bad Boy production tasks (including the incredible Craig Mack "Flava In Ya Ear" joint), to production of Miles Davis's last studio recording and recent work with artists such as Alicia Keys. It is also worth noting that Easy Mo Bee was responsible for pre-Wu desk duties on The Genius' "Words From The Genius" LP, in my mind a slept on record swallowed up by the monster of what came next for the GZA and his Staten Island lyrical troupe. Let's not forget that it was also Mo Bee who produced Biggie's first release "Party & Bullshit", thus again preparing the world for what was soon to come.

However, even that record, and the growing hype around the rapper could not have truly prepared anyone for the long-player that followed. The east coast was back, hip-hop had a new hero, and the music that we love had taken another giant leap forward, with Mo Bee the first to fire a warning.