Silent Poets f. Last Poets - Inquizative, Derivative 1994

Silent Poets - Mass 1996

Silent Poets f. Anomolies - Prisons 1999

Once again Can I Bring My Gat is compelled to let the music speak for itself. Some might welcome this as a great idea unto itself, to let music speak for - or against - itself, but to be honest this time my thirst for knowledge has simply encountered a language barrier. It’s not so much that the Silent Poets would live up to their name, it’s that they’re Japanese. The reason they’ve made it into my collection at all is that back when I bought my first record by them, they fit into the post-acid jazz fusion scene that still had a considerable following in Western Europe. For instance, they were licensed in Germany six years before Warner thought of introducing them to the American market in 2000, a time by which the duo had already decided to disband.

Before that, the Silent Poets made approximately six albums between 1994 and 1999, not counting the remix projects that sometimes seemed to garner more attention than the original releases. Our rap-featuring playlist notwithstanding, Michiharu Shimoda (programming, keyboard, sampler, turntable) and Takahiro Haruno (programming, sax, keyboard) were far from what you and I understand to be hip-hop producers. But I guess you could say they approached the matter more serious than others outside of hip-hop who every now and then guest-feature rappers. I derive that from the fact that they worked with the very godfathers of rap, the Last Poets, as early as 1994, when hip-hop’s young generation was as self-absorbed as ever. Like their countryman DJ Krush, the Silent Poets turned more abstract over the ’90s, as indicated by their guests on “Prisons” (off 1999’s “To Come…”), New York underground crew the Anomolies. But where Krush has wandered off into realms of abstractness beyond anything remotely catchy, the Poets, on their journey from dub to downbeat and back, managed to keep up the groovy appearances, at least in parts.

While that is all I have to report on the Silent Poets, you’re not to be lost in translation altogether. The Silent Poets speak the universal language of music, whether amongst themselves on the instrumental “Mass” (off 1996’s “Firm Roots”) or supported by guests such as Last Poets Jalaluddin Mansur Nuriddin and Sulieman El-Hadi on “Inquizative, Derivative” (off 1994’s “Words and Silence”).

[Painting ‘The Last Session’ by Joshua Walsh]

Aaron Neville - Hercules 1973

Lee Dorsey - Who’s Gonna Help Brother Get Further 1970

The Meters - (The World Is a Bit Under the Weather) Doodle-Oop 1971

Allen Toussaint - You Will Not Lose 1975

Some years ago, I was watching a documentary on New Orleans’ musical heritage, featuring some of the elders that were still around, and the youngsters that carried on the tradition. Although I was already vaguely familiar with what New Orleans represents for modern music, having been introduced to the likes of Professor Longhair, Allen Toussaint, The Meters, the Neville Brothers, the Marsalis family and Dr. John in the late ’80s, I still marveled at how a place could live and breathe musical history, not turning into a museum. But this was also at the time when Cash Money Records put out a string of successful albums, most notably Juvenile’s “400 Degreez” (which I still consider Mannie Fresh’s chef-d’oeuvre.) So I was slightly offended that once again hip-hop - and its close local cousin bounce - were kept seperate from more established forms of music, annoyed at how the burgeoning N.O. rap scene could be ignored in such a documentary.

Yet as I absorbed the disaster in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina from the safety of my home, I didn’t think of Master P or Birdman, TRU or the Hot Boys, I went for my funk and soul compilations and played the songs we have encoded for you today for our humble tribute to The Big Easy. Needless to say, I came across many an essential sampling source. You’re invited to research the city’s unique musical history, purchase records by New Orleans artists and to make any other kind of donation if you can.

King Sun - On the Club Tip 1989

Style - The Assassinator 1990

LA Star - Fade to Black 1990

Twin Hype - Nothin’ Could Save Ya 1991

Okay now, my cover’s about to be blown. Most producers I’d like to profile on this blog are just names printed on record sleeves and CD booklets to me. Many of them haven’t had any output in 10, 15 years. In hip-hop production, longevity seems reserved for a chosen few. Still, I kind of cherish these periods when a certain producer is on a roll, no matter how brief they may be. Take The Hollywood Impact between 1989 and 1991. According to rapper Tony Tone, who had the privilege of a Hollywood Impact-produced album (Style’s “In Tone We Trust“), The Hollywood Impact was a collective. “Hollywood, Mick Nice, Twin Hype and King Sun / T La Rock, Brian Stroh, Tariq, Shameek are all rollin’ with Tone / we’re called The Impact,” he explained on “How You Livin’?” “Identify the talent of The Hollywood Impact,” King Sun commanded us one year later on “Cold New Yorkin’,” two years after the liner notes of his “XL” album listed Style, Twin Hype, Just 2, Choice Brothers, Tiny Rock and Brian Stroh as fellow members of The Hollywood Impact. At the same time The Hollywood Impact seems to refer to a single person, at least that’s what I conclude from the writing credits that keep mentioning a certain R. Pagan, as well as from the fact that he’s often directly addressed as Hollywood by the rappers he works with.

His homebase would’ve been somewhere along the axis Bronx-New Jersey. Brian Stroh was the engineer, Centerfield Productions the company, Centerfield Studios the facility. Run by producer, arranger, composer and jazz vibraphonist Mike Mainieri, who in the ’80s gave jazz an urban edge with his fusion project Steps Ahead. The tracks on display today show The Hollywood Impact’s two (ultimately insufficiently cultivated) strong suits - crossover club potential and multi-layered, carefully arranged soundscapes. Along with its predecessor “Do it to the Crowd,” Twin Hype’s “Nothin’ Could Save Ya” is probably The Hollywood Impact’s biggest claim to fame, a dance anthem that by my calculations should move the crowd to this day. King Sun’s “On the Club Tip” might very well be the blueprint for Hollywood’s idea of hip-hop on the club tip, which Sun is keen to distinguish from (hip-) house. “Nothin’ Could Save Ya” to me is the pinnacle of Hollywood’s “club/rap fusion” (with DJ King Shameek taking center stage and also earning co-production credits.) The “Theme From SWAT” is as reliable as ever, but really it’s all in the presentation, in how Shameek, the Twins and Hollywood collectively set out to create 5 minutes of dancefloor bliss.

Style’s “The Assassinator” is good ol’ hardcore hip-hop, a barrage of machine gun funk rendered particularly interesting by the inclusion of a haunting piano, while “Fade to Black” by Lisa Ali Star flows more smoothly, but still possesses enough sharp edges to give credibility to her cautionary comments on street life. (Check her “Wondrous Dream” and “Swing to the Beat” for further Hollywood Impact goodness). As suddenly as it had appeared, as suddenly the mysterious entity named The Hollywood Impact was gone. After 1991, the discogs entry lists two 1992 “DJ Tools” EP’s and a track for Whodini on the ill-fated “Raiders of the Lost Art” project from 1994. In an interview with Platform8470, J-Zone talks about going to Jersey with Tony Tone to meet The Hollywood Impact. Maybe he’ll drop by in the comments section (yeah, right), or maybe someone among you friendly people has information regarding The Hollywood Impact that would help complete this entry.