The basic conceit of Exodus Into Unheard Rhythms, that hip-hop producer Oh No sampled exclusively from the catalogue of composer Galt MacDermot, is a clever one. For an artist whose audience outbids itself on eBay record auctions, Oh No, aka Mike Jackson aka Madlib's little brother, getting permission to raid the archives of a jazz/funk cult hero is a big deal and a smart sales strategy-- a sort of Willy Wonka for cratediggers. But Exodus is more than a gimmick, because, as strange as it might sound, Oh No and his main source MacDermot seem to share a genuine rapport. Oh No gracefully layers these compositions the way MacDermont did with his own, fusing inspirations with the same wide-eyed gusto and ending up with the same kind of buoyant and elegant songs. The resulting record is a few things: exceptionally cohesive, revelatory, smart as hell, and livelier than any other hip-hop record this year.
That sounds hyperbolic, but it's true: Rap dudes did not have enough fun this year. Exodus is a party on wax (figuratively) about wax (literally). It's a record by record nerds about record nerds for record nerds that invites non-nerds to nerd the fuck out. The enthusiasm and optimism shared by everyone involved (there are 23 participants, by my count) is infectious in a "We Are the World" way, minus the narcissism. It's irresistible and kind of inspiring to hear this many artists on the same page, making songs about whatever as long as they're not about how much everything sucks. Everything does suck. We don't necessarily need records to make it worse.
Most representative of this spirit is "T. Biggums", which features Stones Throw cohorts Dudley Perkins as the title character and Georgia Anne Muldrow as his weary mother. Not just a song named after Dave Chappelle's crafty crackhead, "Biggums" is his fictional bio. Ostensibly jokey, it's actually an empathetic, hoarsely sung, little tale that personalizes drug addiction and, intentional or not, offers a sly rebuttal to commercial rap's drug trade. Sounds leaden, but Oh No's track is built on a twinkling MacDermot piano melody and mid-tempo shuffle that lift the burden of "the message," giving the song room for a hopeful shrug. That's the thing: the heavier the lyric on Exodus, the more uplifting the instrumental. I've already expressed my love for "Black", the fiery return of Poor Righteous Teachers' Wise Intelligent on a ludicrously bouncy track, in the P4k Tracks section, and the criminally underrated Buckshot of Black Moon/Boot Camp Clik on "Gets Mines" almost brings tears of nostalgia to my eyes with Galt's pounding piano sample and Buck's perseverant rasp. And I'm beyond objectivity with De La Soul's Posdnuos, who appears on "Smile a Lil' Bit"; everything that guy's said since "Potholes In My Lawn" sounds like something I need to know.
Exodus is not a "golden age" revival, though. It's a revival, period. The older dudes aren't on here as a favor; they absolutely kill their respective tracks. And the young(er)bloods-- mostly Stones Throw affiliates or L.A. mainstays-- respond in kind. Murs is hungrier and more fluid than ever on "In This", and Aloe Blacc sings like a desperate man on "Second Chance". The effort level is set high early and rarely falters, no matter if it's newcomer Roc C or grimy vet A.G. Oh No doesn't sew an elastic waistband into Galt's music for the old heads, and he doesn't bedazzle shit for the youngsters.
Why would he? At the center of this project is a 78-year-old man who's welcomed producers, Pete Rock and Juju of the Beatnuts into his home to peruse his collection for sample records. MacDermot, the composer behind the musical Hair and scorer of the seminal blaxploitation flick, Cotton Comes to Harlem, had a song covered by Cannonball Adderley and another flipped into a #1 hit for Busta Rhymes. He grew up listening to his musical father's records and studied and internalized the local music when his family moved to South Africa during his college years. Oh No's beginnings are similar. Born into a musical family with an encouraging musician father, he parsed what he liked and developed it. At this rate, he might rival his own brother, Madlib, very soon. So the union of these two artists, from different times and places, who simply love music and made it their lives is, I can't lie, heartening. I realize that's a very rosy and uncool way to look at the world, but Exodus Into Unheard Rhythms just kind of does that to you.
