A little bit of history. Back in the '80s Bronx DJs Grandmaster Flash (aka Joseph Saddler) and Kool Herc (Clive Campbell) isolated beats from their vinyl LPs (or typically, The Winstons' "Amen Brother" 45) to create seamless rhythm loops for dancers and clubgoers bent on boogie fever. Hip-hop was born from such vinyl manipulation. By the early '90s UK rave heads had adopted the practice, by then looping vinyl beats into their primitive computers and Akai samplers. And it has been thus ever since, oh fans of the endless groove.

These days, it's all too easy for any hack or fool named Harry to loop up a beat in Pro Tools, drop it on the grid and pile on the soft synths. BUMPS is an answer to such common and lazy practices and perhaps a taste of the future. The brainchild of the percussion crew behind Tortoise, Chicago's post rock answer to Kraftwerk, Neu! and Amon Duul, BUMPS is an entirely beat driven affair. Drummer/percussionists John McIntire, Dan Bitney and John Herndon take an organic/electronic approach on BUMPS' 23 tracks, banging skins and twiddling knobs for a festival of beat pyrotechnics.  BUMPS runs the gamut from 808 Afro drills ("Craven") and "Cold Sweat" styled funk ("Deal Tree") to flowing dub filagrees ("As Bond Did") and rumbling Brazilian sambas ("Nashira"). Throughout, the beats sound electronically trashed and distorted, but the underlying rhythmic message is entirely human. No matter how much juice you may inject into a Pro Tools beat, it's still a machine. BUMPS challenges that method with real drummers playing the grooves, which are then treated with various fi lters and effects. 

Though one idea is for DJs and club urchins to use BUMPS' sparse breakbeats as the basis for their own tracks, BUMPS also works as solo listening pleasure, similar to the ricochet of carnival drummers or an African message warped and treated by 21^st Century Windy City shamen. BUMPS tracks are anything but static, instead gyrating and pulsating like King Tubby or Lee Scratch on a roller coaster ride with Bonham, Moon and Copeland. Give the drummers some!

BUMPS: "Tryplmeade Gorsmatch"  (MP3, 2:13)

Punk rock sucks: I've said it before: punk rock sucks. It's like John Lennon's Christ comment, that JC was alright but his disciples, were "thick and ordinary" and by association, ruined it for the rest of us.  The Sex Pistols, The Clash, Velvet Underground, The Jam, Patti Smith and the Ramones were great. The '70s musical equivalent of "Burn, baby, burn." Crap, the radio was all Elton John/Chicago/Three Dog Night before punk spat a giant loogie in their collective eye. But after that big bang, punk disappeared, until contemporary no nothings (Green Day, Blink 182, Offspring) decided to resurrect it, and ruin it. What is it, the need to wallow in your parent's diapers? A nostalgia fix of 20-year proportions? As with most musical innovations, the originals are the masters (Howlin' Wolf), then the poseurs typically pee all over it (The Howlin' Wolf Sessions). Take Frank Zappa's comment in "Tinseltown Rebellion," that to get a record deal the band in question "would have to be more punk, forget their chops and play real dumb or else they would be sunk." But thank God, chops are making a comeback. Musical chops are once again legitimized; take for example, in the music of Sean Hayes.

San Franciscan Sean Hayes is sometimes added to the pedigree of freak folkers like Devendra Banhart (another cloying poser, don't get me started), but his melodicism and mastery of subtle song form far exceeds the clan of the shaggy dogged. With five self-released albums under his belt, Hayes is hardly a young pup; his latest, Flowering Spade, cements his rep as a rising star. Hayes' easy way with an acoustic guitar belies the serious musical fundamentals of his songs. Gliding easily between sophisticated chord structures and smart arrangements, Hayes unadorned vocals and storytelling ways pull you in.  He scats lyrics, extends and jams his songs, all the while maintaining a dense melodic pull, like Woody Guthrie with a touch of Nick Cave and a tinge of Phil Ochs. Hayes' occasionally tremulous vocals lift from blues tradition, as well. "All That I Have," "Smoking Signals," Rosebush Inside" -- all work a similar deep rift of feeling and melody.

By contrast, "Elizabeth Sways" (from Flowering Spade), is less Hellhound on my trail than puppy love playfulness. With simple plucked banjo, drums and percussion backing his fine guitar, Hayes sounds a bit more Dave Matthews-ish than on prior releases (such as A Thousand Tiny Pieces and Lunar Lust), but the song still floats the mind and frees the booty. A deep bassoon note adds an ominous touch to the song's flowing good feel, Hayes murmuring that "when Elizabeth sways her hips the whole world goes mmmmmmmmm..."   The title track rolls over a Dylanish strum, returning Hayes to his crackled voice ways, an infectious, itchy groove supporting a glowing melody and lyrics about an elephant circus and growing flowers and learning to cook. Sound naff? It's absolutely beautiful.

Sean Hayes Elizabeth Sways "Elizabeth Sways" (mp3)
from "Flowering Spade"
by Sean Hayes
(Sean Hayes)
Buy at Sean Hayes Music Store
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