The Magnificent Seven
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The Magnificent Dance
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Released in 1981

This edition of 12″ Gems features one of the most addictive bass lines to ever grace the dancefloor. The Clash isn’t the first band to come to mind when you’re up in the club, but “The Magnificent Dance” appeals to pretty much anyone who gets up to get down. (For the record, “Rock The Casbah” works brilliantly too.)

The Clash were consistently pushing the boundaries of music. Though mostly defined as a “punk” bank, they also incorporated reggae, political fury, and — as demonstrated on this 12″ — rap into their sound. “The Magnificent Seven” was recorded in 1980, and may have been the first rap record made by whitey (with the possible exception of Blondie’s “Rapture,” which came out at roughly the same time).

Though Mick Jones was the true rap fanatic in The Clash, it was Joe Strummer who busted out the rhymes used in “The Magnificent Seven.” Legend has it that Joe freestyled all the lyrics after checking out local rap outfits across New York City. Joe was a notorious lefty, and his worldview nudged rap towards protest music: “What do we have for entertainment? Cops kickin gypsies on the pavement.”

But what’s really special about this 12″ is the B-side instrumental remix, “The Magnificent Dance.” Equally beloved by adventurous rockers, hip hop heads, and house music junkies, it continues to be sampled, looped, and worn out by DJ’s around the world.

The Clash were savvy enough to recognize the dancefloor potential of their recording and targeted this remix to DJs, successfully:

WBLS was blasting all over [New York] city and we just hooked onto some of that vibe and made our own version of it. We made an instrumental mix of “The Magnificent Seven” and WBLS played it to death. You couldn’t go anywhere in New York that summer without hearing that. And that was us! Weirdo punk-rock white guys!

— Mick Jones, from the documentary Westway to the World

Oh, and about that bass line: it wasn’t played by a member of The Clash. That honor goes to the heretofore unknown (at least to me) Norman Watt-Roy. Watt-Roy came up with the classic rhythm spontaneously while dropping in on The Clash during the Sandanista! sessions at New York City’s Electric Lady studios. If you want to know how funky Norman truly is, take a gander at his teeth.

MF DOOM
Rhymes Like Dimes (Edit)
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Album: Operation: Doomsday (1999)

Quincy Jones (w/James Ingram)
One Hundred Ways
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Album: The Dude (1981)

MF DOOM may be my favorite rapper at this point in time. He is one of the best rhymers in the game, and the combination of his cryptic lyrics and hoarse voice makes him stand out from other MCs.

Formerly known as Zev Love X, MF DOOM first came on the scene as part of 90s underground hip hop group KMD, until the group came to an untimely end after his partner Subroc died tragically in a car accident.

Many years after KMD fell off my radar, I started hearing tracks from MF DOOM with no clue that he was Zev Love X reborn. Me being an obsessive sort, I started looking into this talented rapper/producer only to be confused by all the different names he recorded under. Was he MF DOOM? Viktor Vaughn? King Geedorah? It didn’t really matter, all incarnations were dope. (And big up to Wikipedia for helping me sort through all of MF DOOM‘s personas.)

One of the recordings I picked up was, Live From Planet X, a ferocious live set from 2005 that included a selection I hadn’t heard yet, “Rhymes Like Dimes.” As usual, MF DOOM’s rhymes and phrasing were amazing (e.g. “Classical slapstick, rappers need chapstick”), but what really got me pumped were the snaky keys. Where did I hear them before?

I racked my brain but couldn’t place them. It wasn’t until I was cooling out with my iTunes “chill” playlist that I recognized the sample source: the mellow solo from 5-star classic “One Hundred Ways.” How did I not peg that classic Quincy Jones sound?

The “One Hundred Ways” sample is way more obvious in the recorded version off MF DOOM’s debut, Operation: Doomsday, as the (overlong) outro from DJ Cucumber Slice (aka Bobbito) features a direct quote from the originating track. Considering MF DOOM raps for two-and-a-half minutes and Bobbito does his hype thing for an additional couple of minutes, I chose to fade the track after MF DOOM completes his verses.

New Feeling/A Clean Break (recorded in 1977)
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Air (recorded in 1979)
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The Great Curve
(recorded in 1980 or 1981)
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Album: The Name Of This Band Is Talking Heads (1982)

Though many are familiar with Stop Making Sense, the seminal 1984 concert film directed by Jonathan Demme, it only came a couple of years after Talking Heads released the concert diary The Name Of This Band Is Talking Heads. This record chronicled 6 performances over a 5 year span over the course of 4 sides. Listening to the album from start to finish reveals the breathtaking evolution in Talking Heads’ songwriting and musicianship, as well as the explosion in the number of fans in the audience and musicians on stage.

It’s difficult to categorize Talking Heads, as evidenced in the selections from the record. They were associated with the CBGB punk scene, but didn’t really possess the anger or discord of their assumed peers. As the first selection, the two-track punch of “New Feeling” and “A Clean Break” (they transitioned so smoothly between the tracks that I just couldn’t split them up) demonstrates Talking Heads’ love for melody and bouncy groove. I guess the punk connection is in their rhythmic intensity and esoteric lyrics.

The band delves deeper into funky weirdness with their next song, “Air.” I love the contrast between the spastic verses and the touching, catchy chorus. You can hear how their sound is opening up, with ethereal harmonies and adventurous ad-libbing from the ever-game David Byrne.

The full blossoming of Talking Heads’ sound reveals itself in the final selection, “The Great Curve.” Talking Heads started touring with a bigger band (featuring backup singer Nona Hendryx and Parliament-Funkadelic’s Bernie Worrell) after their career-redefining Remain In Light was released in 1980. The impact of their new bandmates is evident in the complex rhythms and layered vocals of this confident, ambitious track. Lyrically, I think it’s about the philosophical tug-of-war between divinity and earthly pleasures, but David can be quite inscrutable. To be honest, I could do without the screeching guitar work from King Crimson guitarist Adrian Belew, but I still enjoy this track.

P.S. Can you find the link to a secret bonus track?