Mad Skillz - It’s Goin’ Down 1996

Chino XL - Don’t Say A Word 2001

When I learned of Dilla’s death, I instantly knew it would affect others much more than me. Ever since he had established himself in the production game, Jay Dee was estimated to a point I could never quite relate to. Possibly fueled by what I perceived as exaggerated worship, I began to tax his influence on hip-hop as negative. I particulary thought his involvement in A Tribe Called Quest had a devastating effect on the group, seeing how I hated “Beats, Rhymes and Life” and “The Love Movement” almost as much as I loved “The Low End Theory” and “Midnight Marauders.” As an outside influence that hadn’t initially been there, he seemed like an ideal scapegoat. Whenever people come up with something innovative, there will always be some that get left behind. Sticking to my old habits of hard drums and ill loops, I consider myself one of those who got left behind by Dilla. Given the great number of people that appreciated what he did, he probably wasn’t ahead of his time, but he certainly was ahead of me.

But now that this exceptional career has been tragically cut short, I’m beginning to grasp the scope of the legacy the man leaves behind. In his recent blog entry, Soul-Sides’ Oliver Wang already summed up James Yancey’s unique position before I could come to terms with my feelings. Jay Dee was a representative of a new approach to hip-hop. He helped guide the music away from the shelters of instant sample recognition. But instead of exposing it to rugged urban terrain, he created dreamscapes where the colors were lighter, the outlines less definite and the pulse slower.

His style didn’t come out of nowhere. Within hip-hop, it can be traced back to early ’90s ATCQ and post-EPMD Erick Sermon (”Double Or Nothing”). But as with all breakthrough achievements, it takes someone to test the limits of any new approach and push it over the edge, hoping it will fly. That was Jay Dee’s role. On the other hand, he wasn’t a loner and was always willing to be part of a collective, be it Slum Village, The Ummah or The Soulquarians.

Dilla made atmospheric hip-hop that worked in subtler ways than I had been used to. His beats didn’t whip you into a frenzy, they calmed your nerves. That is, if you were willing to succumb to their charm. Like there is an ideal audience, there is also an ideal rapper for a producer. In Dilla’s case, to me Common was that ideal rapper. Others often didn’t quite seem to grasp the delicacy of his music. The same could probably be said for the two vocalists gracing the beats in our second Dilla commemoration, the way they battle and brag like they always do. But because Mad Skillz and Chino XL are both high caliber MC’s, I’m not distracted by sub-par rapping. I can’t help myself, the quality of the vocals remains a factor when I judge a producer’s work. The idea behind these selections is also to highlight the two major periods Yancey’s work can be divided into. “It’s Goin’ Down” represents the earlier, richer Jay Dee sound, “Don’t Say A Word” the later, loftier J Dilla style of production.

Rest in peace.