When Dessa released A Badly Broken Code last year it broke at least one
thing in a very good way - the mold. From the emceeing, to the singing, to
the poetic aspects of the album, A Badly Broken Code pushed boundaries and
showed everything hip-hop can be when it's done right (which is why this
writer made it his number one album of the
year). This week Doomtree's leading lady is back with Castor, The Twin.
Castor, The Twin is a new album that isn't new. Confused? That's OK. What
Dessa has done with Castor, The Twin is re-imagine her work with a trio of
talented musicians - bassist Sean McPherson (of Heiruspecs),
drummer/vibraphonist Joui Van Phillips, and guitarist/pianist Dustin Kiel.
The result is an entirely new sound and feel to Dessa's work.
RapReviews caught up with Dessa to find out what inspired her to put Castor,
The Twin together, how her original producers felt about it when she brought
up the idea, and why she may not be as thrilled as one might expect if a
review says the album is better than sliced bread.
Adam Bernard: The new album is Castor, The Twin. I've heard this
before, but I haven't heard this before. What was the thought process behind
creating new music for your songs?
Dessa: To take A Badly Broken Code on the road I ended pairing with a
trio of really really talented bad-ass players. After we'd been on the road
for our first headlining run of the West coast so many of the arrangements
had changed, in part to best suit the new format, and in part because the
new players had some musical ideas and some dynamic ideas that we could
execute when we weren't working with a DJ rig. You can play really pin drop
intimate moments, you can play huge smashing moments, and being able to
vacillate between those two quickly, and to read a crowd and to make it much
more of a flexible, attentive, set, was a real joy for me. This whole new
world of musicality opened up. You can do these key changes and time
signature changes that as a rapper who's playing to an mp3, you can't do.
Half the set, maybe, involved the previously recorded versions of those
songs, and as we continued on our tour more and more listeners would come up
and say hey "man, I love that version of 'Kites,'" or "I love that version
of '551,' how can I get that one?" Until now my answer's been, "uhhh, you
can't." So in part it was prompted by fans asking for it.
AB: Do you consider this a new album?
D: That's a good question. It's a new recording project. The last
thing I want to do is confuse anybody who's looking for new music. I'm not
interested in a bait and switch and I'm not interested in trying to wring
another buck out of somebody who has the version of a tune that they like,
but I am interested, as a musician, in capturing new arrangements that seem
like they might actually provide a fresh and worthwhile take on a familiar
tune. For anybody who's confused by the project I suggest logging on to
iTunes and listening to it for 30 seconds and if you don't dig it, no sweat,
I got (a new) one coming out in early 2012, but some of these arrangements,
for me, as a fan of the trio with which I worked, were a real joy, and a
real joy to record. It felt like something different, it felt like something
new. There was an elegance, and a grace, and kind of a melancholy that the
live instrumentation lent those songs that even for me, who's played them
hundreds of times, it really reinvented them and it really made them fresh
in a new and different way, so I dug it.
AB: How did the original producers react when you announced this
project?
D: {*laughs*} I am so fucking lucky to work with the Doomtree
producers who are willing to take risks and who are willing to give me a
little leeway. That's a lot to ask for a producer. I think it took hearing
the live band. I think there's probably some skepticism that's appropriate
in hip-hop when you decide to do stuff with a live band because when live
hip-hop sucks is really fucking sucks. It gets cheesy, it gets neutered, it
can get kind of white bred funky. A lot of bad things can happen to hip-hop
when you try to simply translate it into a live setting. Part of the magic
of hip-hop is that you have this real sonic variety, so even in one track
you might have a snare that's from 1968, a borrowed operatic melisma that's
from a classical record, and then you might have a gritty guitar line from
some forgotten Spanish rock band.
D: Part of the interesting textures of hip-hop are created by these
really disparate sounds and when you're playing in a live band you have some
ability to make different sounds, but the snare that you got is the snare
that you got, for the most part. The way that we decided to handle it with
the live project is not just simply try to translate hip-hop arrangements
with a live band, because I think that's what makes live hip-hop music
weakest, but to try to re-treat this material so it can be best portrayed in
that format. Like I said before, that meant making musical variability
instead of sonic variability, so you have moments in a song where it's
modulating, and you have moments in a song where you have two extra quarter
notes, and you have moments in a song that take unexpected and dramatic
dynamic turns, and that's how the material was best presented, to
re-approach it completely and say "how would this song be best served now
that we do have a string section at our disposal, now that we do have a
timpani and an orchestral bass drum and a vibraphonist, what would be the
elegant way to represent these songs?"
AB: When we spoke in early 2010 you described A Badly Broken Code as
an album that's "a bitch of a record to try to put on a planogram." Most
record stores have gone the way of the dodo bird, and planograms are now few
and far between. Obviously there are a litany of negatives that go with
this, but do you think it's also created an opportunity for artists to go
off the planogram, musically?
D: Yeah, that's a good question. I think the honest answer is I
wasn't enough a part of the music industry to know how its collapse affects
it. I've always been an underdog, an outsider, an indie kid lost somewhere
in the prairie trying to figure out a way to make, distribute, promote and
tour my music. When we received the news that these distant monoliths have
finally succumbed to market forces I took note of it because I understand it
to be culturally important, because I understand that it affects the
business that I'm in, but it doesn't actually affect my camp as much as it
probably affects anybody who has some serious stake in that businesses. When
Doomtree started we burned CD-Rs in our mothers' computers for our first
shows and we cut out the album art that we photocopied at Kinkos to slip
into slimlines that we bought at Walgreens.
D: So when Sony comes to its knees it doesn't affect my mom's
computer, Walgreens, or Kinkos, you know what I mean? We've been off the
grid for so long that now we've just got more company. That said, when I put
out A Badly Broken Code I was listening to people that had been in the
industry. I was afraid to dismiss their advice because it seemed like they
knew better, and they may well know better about a lot of things, but I have
made a conscious decision as an artist that I'm not gonna worry about what
retail wants, I'm gonna worry about what music listeners want and I'm gonna
worry about how to make good music because, to be honest, that shit is hard
enough. {*laughs*} It is fantastically difficult to write a good song, at
least it is for me, so I'm not really interested in accepting a larger goal
than that. That one seems plenty lofty.
AB: I've been speaking with quite a few female hip-hop artists and it
seems to be a really good time to be a woman in hip-hop. Why do you think
that is? Is it something cyclical, or is there a deeper reason behind the
sudden interest in women in hip-hop?
D: That's a great question. I don't know. I think you know more
female emcees than I do. I hear about it on Twitter. I have the phone number
of two female rappers in my phone and it's been the same two for three or
four years. From the vantage point of a practitioner in the Midwest it's not
yet affected me, but maybe in another six months I'll feel that new wave of
talent in an immediate way.
AB: Whenever people are asked to list the greatest emcees of all-time
it's always a long list of men. Has a female emcee not reached that status
yet, or is the boy's club mentality tough to break?
D: You know, I think that there are a couple of females that if
somebody's listing their top hundred, or top fifty emcees, and you were to
interrupt them with names like Lauryn Hill they'd go "oh yeah, for sure, but
she's kind of a singer, though, man." I think a lot of times what happens is
that women who rap and sing don't immediately come to mind when cats are
doing their best-of emcee lists, but I think a lot of cats would have a hard
time brushing off a talent like Lauryn Hill, or Missy, or Salt-N-Pepa. I
think they're out there. I think they might not be the first to come to
mind, and I think you can also find heads who list MC Lyte and Rah Digga and
Lady of Rage right away, but on the real, they're just far far far fewer of
us.
D: I don't know if that's because there's a huge cultural inhibition
to the inclusion of women, if there is I haven't found it, I've lucked out
and worked with some really good dudes. I've definitely encountered some
sexism, but I've also encountered a lot of "hey man, what are you doin?" A
lot of initial interest was sparked by the fact that I'm different. I look
different when I take the stage. People don't come twice for novelty, but
novelty turns most of our heads, so there's also a benefit in that way.
People will shush their conversational partner for moment in a crowd and be
like "hold up, is she rapping?" And then they'll like it and they'll buy my
CD, or they won't and then they'll continue their conversation, but so much
of an artists' career objective is to just get a fuckin chance. Can you just
listen to me for a second? Any bit of interest that someone is willing to
lend me I welcome as long as they'll then judge me on my merit.
AB: Switching gears a bit, you mentioned Twitter earlier, and you are
a very interesting person to follow on Twitter. What's your beef with sliced
bread?
D: I can't believe the enormity of the push back (from that tweet). I
think sliced bread is a convenience. I really enjoy it. I ate a sandwich
this morning and I made it with sliced bread, but when we talk about our
favorite new inventions and then immediately our first historical reference
point is the invention of sliced bread, I cannot abide, man. Thomas Edison,
that's a dude who made an invention that really changed our lives. Whoever
the fuck made sliced bread, I commend you, but I cannot exalt you, my
friend.
AB: And we don't know their name.
D: Yeah, exactly. If it was a really important invention we would.
{laughs}
AB: I also read about the guy you eviscerated for hitting on you
inappropriately in a grocery store parking lot. Since, clearly, when you're
picking up lunchmeat and unsliced bread is not the time to holler, how would
you prefer a guy to approach you? Take this opportunity to fix that man's
game.
D: {*laughs*} I think anytime you're making explicit comments about a
woman's body and you don't know her first name, an easy rule of thumb has
been broken. That's very likely to totally ax your chances of scoring with
said woman. I think a confident, even a cocky approach would fly most of the
time for me, but you can't go to the x-rated stuff off the bat.
AB: And don't say that you're better than sliced bread because it
will be very unimpressive to you.