The famed ESP-Disk label, one-time home to such free jazz giants as Pharoah Sanders and Sun Ra, emblazoned this motto on every record it released: "The artists alone decide what you will hear on their ESP-Disk." You can almost imagine Stones Throw offering Madlib the same luxury. The hyperprolific producer is a seeker, constantly refining and weirding up the signature haze he lends to his many projects. Slave Riot is the second Madlib-affiliated jazz record of 2010, a gauzy homage to the more freewheeling jazz of the 1960s and early 70s. Although it's missing much of the fire and the exploration of spirit that marked a lot of the jazz the Rebels tip their hats to, Slave Riot is further testament to Lib's open arms and near-unparalleled ear.
From the faux-vinyl crackle that opens and closes the record to the murky burble that underpins most of the tracks, there's little question this is a Madlib record. Drums take the front seat, and the constantly shifting rhythms provide the bed upon which these Rebels stretch out. Keys and electric bass provide much of the melody, as it were; there's precious little in the way of solos, opting instead for a casual interplay between the instruments. The aversion to structure and an abundance of loose, vampy improvisation demarcates this jazz as "free," but this being Madlib, it trends towards the downbeat, content to percolate rather than boil over. The sound often echoes spacier Sun Ra records, with shades of Miles Davis' funk-forward early-70s bands (particularly in the live setting)-- or even the interstitial stuff on the mid-90s Boredoms LPs. That in-between feeling is Slave Riot's biggest flaw; the Rebels constantly seem on the precipice of breaking out a towering solo, only to pull back or, worse yet, cut the track short.
But Madlib's every bit as adept at creating a mood on a jazz record as he is on his more familiar hip-hop productions, and Slave Riot's gloriously overcast sound helps hold one's attention through its meanderings. This is free jazz for Madlib fans; it's crackly and inventive but warm and oddly familiar, and even if you're not the type to weigh Anthony Braxton improvisations against themselves, Slave Riot's inviting tone is likely to draw you in. Though an aversion to virtuosity is odd considering the players-- Ivan "Mamao" Conti of Brazilian jazz-funk mainstays Azymuth and frequent J Dilla collaborator Karriem Riggins among them-- and things feel monochromatic at times, the record settles into an agreeable groove and builds slowly from there. One never knows what to expect next from Madlib, and Slave Riot would be a better record were it as unpredictable as its creator, but it's impossible to imagine another hip-hop producer succeeding quite this well acting on what amounts to a whim. Here's to whatever's next.
