RJ Wheaton

… or, at least, for fans of the piano samples.

Cam’s 1996 Substances opens with a sample from Gang Starr’s “Mass Appeal”, and proceeds through a range of faux-Mid-Eastern stylings, toned-down drum ‘n’ bass moments and Interview With A Vampire excerpts.

But it’s the jazz piano samples that dominate the album.

More specifically, it’s the sound of Herbie Hancock and Mccoy Tyner adapting the idioms of bebop piano to the restless development of Wayne Shorter, Miles Davis and — in the case of Tyner — John Coltrane.

“Friends and Enemies”, the opening track, is built around a wistful McCoy Tyner introduction. A range of samples follow throughout the album, all pervaded by an air of autumnal melancholy. They are often cut across the beat so that the soft drumwork is brought to the front like light rain.

There’s a tendency to underestimate the importance of Hancock and Tyner in Davis’ mid-sixties quintet and Coltrane’s quartet. Certainly the firebrand drummers — Tony Williams and Elvin Jones — have always received a great deal of attention, as has Ron Carter’s amazing prolificacy. Richard Cook and Brian Morton have suggested that, by the mid-sixties, Hancock “may also, as McCoy Tyner was to do at almost exactly the same time, have realized that he was to some extent external to the real drama of this extraordinary music.”

But it’s hard to fault the artistic approaches taken by either pianist. Tyner’s willowy romanticism is the perfect foil to Coltrane’s sometimes impatient — and logically exhaustive — bluster. Hancock’s wide, open voicings create the perfect space for Davis’ quick probings, not to mention Shorter’s angular melodies and feather-light nostalgia. The crispness of Hancock’s timing offsets the tendency of both Shorter and Davis to whimsical meandering, and unerringly finds the kinks in the meter that provide a bridge between Carter and William on the one hand, Davis and Shorter on the other.

What’s more, the feeling that Hancock could be “diffident and detached” (as Cook and Morton put it) is exactly the feeling of disconnect that lends itself to the emotional piquancy of the jazz of this period.

There’s more to it than that, of course. While the compositions became ever more sparse and mercurial, Hancock and Tyner were obliged to provide a harmonic outline, and therefore to remain to some extent within a traditional bebop vocabulary. With the piano recorded in pristine accuracy at the front of the mix, the result is some of the essential restlessness (and glittering isolation) that inhabits this music.

There are countless recordings on which to hear Hancock and Tyner reinventing jazz piano in this period, any of which might have been sampled by Cam to much the same effect. Coltrane’s Crescent (1964) is the obvious choice for Tyner, since “Wise One” is the basis of the track which opens Substances and returns later. Crescent is often seen as a dark sister of A Love Supreme, recorded six months later, though it remains far more accessible to the newcomer. There’s certainly something uncompromising about “Crescent”, a bleakness at the edges. But it is offset by an implicit optimism that emerges from the lonely balladry of “Wise One” and “Lonnie’s Lament”, much of it down to Tyner’s playing. “The Drum Thing”, despite Tyner’s absense and a centreless theme from Coltrane, retains a balmy warmth that buoys Jones’ playing.

Apparently the album was recorded in fraught circumstances, though no one appears to know what they were. Cook and Morton speculate some erratic behaviour on Jones’ part. In any case, a master tape containing longer versions of “Crescent” and “Bessie’s Blues” was at some stage destroyed.

Coltrane’s ferocious restlessness means that the sustained languid melancholy of Crescent is something of a one-off. Yet the serious of albums Coltrane recorded for Impulse in 1962-63, when he was recovering from painful dental problems, have some of the same qualities, in particular Ballads (1962).

Both Hancock and Tyner appeared on the extraordinary run of albums that Wayne Shorter headlined for Blue Note between 1964 and 1967. Of these, Adam’s Apple probably offers the best mix of quality compositions and accessibility. It certainly has its fair share of drifting melancholy — the bleary-eyed cool of “502 Blues (Drinkin’ And Drivin’)”, Shorter’s tone piquant but noncommittal; the gorgeous modal classic “Footprints”. And “Teru”, which is one of Shorter’s perfect ballads, its accents always falling at unexpected moments and seeming heartbreakingly throwaway.

Beyond the swaying lock of “Footprints”, the album also delivers its share of funk. The title track bolsters Shorter’s laid-back sidewinding theme with one of Hancock’s tightly rolling piano riffs. On “El Gaucho”, Joe Chambers’ crisp rim-shots keep balance between the opening phrases and the cooler bridge. Adam’s Apple is probably Shorter’s most well-rounded album of the period, if not (quite) the best.

The core Davis studio albums in this period are E.S.P. (1965), Miles Smiles (1966), Sorcerer and Nefertiti (both 1967). Hancock’s playing on the live album that immediately preceded Shorter’s joining the group (issued in various combinations as My Funny Valentine, Four & More, and The Complete Concert, 1964), and on his own extraordinary Maiden Voyage has the same desolate yet nostalgic qualities.

For more of the same from DJ Cam, check out 1995’s Underground Vibes, issued as part of the Mad Blunted Jazz double-CD set. This year’s Liquid Hip-Hop is said to be a return to the same territory. He is apparently at work Substances Two.

DJ Cam, Substances
(Inflammable Records, 1996)

John Coltrane, Crescent
(Impulse, 1964)

Wayne Shorter, Adam’s Apple
(Blue Note, 1966)

iTunes Europe finally launches with UK single prices of 79p, about a 40% markup on its US prices. Admittedly that’s taken against a low dollar, and their album prices significantly undercut the high street. But it’s hard to escape the conclusion that Apple are happy to perpetuate their traditional policy of overpricing their UK products, particularly since it dovetails so nicely with the major labels’ more-or-less identical stance. (The Euro price is somewhat fairer.)

Plus, they have made a complete hash of arrangements with the Association of Independent Music (AIM), which represents XL, Ninja Tune, Warp, Grand Central, Hospital and almost everyone else I want to listen to, meaning that it’s mostly mainstream fare — all the way from Eric Clapton to Jamie Cullum. I don’t know what your uncle is like, but I can’t see mine using iTunes.

I’m delighted that iPod and iTunes have been so successful. But I have doubts about how sustainable it is, given this pricing structure, the closed AAC standard (surely Apple should know, after years of experience against Microsoft, that closed platforms are emphatically not good), and the DRM system that they can change at whim. I’ll be buying Apple products until I go into the ground. But I think they might beat me to it.

In the meantime, AIM have agreed terms with almost everyone else. Warp fans, of course, should know about Bleep.

Some mp3s at New(ish) from DJ Rels’ forthcoming Theme For A Broken Soul, which apparently is released August 10. Stone’s Throw has one of their oblique is-he-or-isn’t-he-Madlib biographies, though everybody seems to be taking it for granted that he is.

Anyway, these sound interesting. And relatively devoid of the aimlessly washy electric piano noodlings that have characterized Madlib’s most recent avalanche of work. If indeed it be he.

Nice to see that the “September 13” break can still get a good working-over.

There’s a new Kings of Convenience album out for fans of (in no way electronic) acoustic folksy crooning. I haven’t yet checked out member Erlend Oye’s contribution to the DJ Kicks series, which apparently features his good-natured vocalism over an eclectic set.

In the meantime there’s lots of mp3s available, for instance at Said The Gramophone and Moistworks (no permalinks). The latter has a track from 2001’s Versus remix project, which fitted rather nicely between that year’s releases from Royksopp and Four Tet – both of whom contributed. (Erlend Oye sang on Royksopp’s “Poor Leno”, for those who think they’re unfamiliar with the sound of his voice.)

On a related note, isn’t this situation the perfect argument for labels posting a couple of free-for-download songs for each artist? Otherwise you get everybody and their aunt booting about an album’s-worth between them. When all everybody wants to do is say “look, this sounds cool, buy the album.”

It’s madness.

An email from Tim Saul confirms that Human Dust, the long-finished second Earthling album, will see a release this year, on the French Discograph label. The slated date is September 13th.

I’ll be posting some material about Earthling later, but suffice to say that 1995’s Radar was one of the classic albums in the first rush of trip-hop (when it was still — controversially — called that). Their second album stands alongside Fresh Four’s Smith & Mighty-produced debut as one of the lost Bristol sound albums.

There is also, apparently, the possibility of some live shows in the autumn. Which is exciting indeed.

The site that had housed a tracklisting and audio samples for some time appears to be down at the moment.

Update: more information here.