SPIN blogs

Hear Ellie Goulding Turn the Tables on the Weeknd's 'High for This'

Devon Maloney — Wed, 30 May 2012 21:46:13 +0000

For reasons yet unknown, Brit pop darling Ellie Goulding recently decided to cover the Weeknd's particularly creepy (and perhaps best-known) House of Balloons cut, "High for This." The track — which was posted last night and produced by Chiddy Bang's Xaphoon Jones — has a more electronic aesthetic than the original, highlighting how insane its silky-smooth yet ultimately predatory lyrics sound when they're not being sung by a controversial, seductive mystery man like Abel Tesfaye.

SPIN ranked two-thirds of the Weeknd's trilogy at No. 13 on our 50 Best Albums of 2011 list, so we're admittedly hooked by his nü-nihilism (and Ellie made our Best Pop Albums, too). But Goulding's pop-enhanced (and obviously quite deft) cover emphasizes its unsettling aspects. A tiny blonde woman pressuring a "boy" to sip codeine and have unprotected sex? Empowering? Ridiculous? Neither? Listen below and judge for yourself. And watch out, Skrillex!

#1 Crush

Ellie Goulding, The Weeknd

The tiny blonde Brit popper sheds an interesting light on one of the elusive singer's creepiest tracks

Ellie Goulding, The Weeknd

yes

Rappers and Same-Sex Marriage: How Much Do You Really Care?

Brandon Soderberg — Wed, 30 May 2012 17:27:28 +0000

For those keeping score at home, the list of rappers who are ostensibly in favor of same-sex marriage now includes Ice Cube, T.I., 50 Cent, and Kendrick Lamar. I don't know this because they made bold, formal statements like Jay-Z. I know this because they were asked by Ad Age, MTV, Vibe, and DJ Drama's Streetz Is Watchin' Sirius/XM radio show, and then their answers were turned into blog fodder and disseminated across the Internet. The impulse to ask rappers what they think about same-sex marriage contributes little to the discussion of this important issue, though it is a page-view win-win: If a rapper is cool with it, well, there's a story; If you ask them and they disagree, well, you've got an even bigger news story. Hopefully, they might slip up and say something homophobic!

As you might expect, all four rappers answered with fairly hedged responses. Ice Cube came the closest to responding like a sensible human when he said this to Ad-Age: "I don't want to discriminate on nobody." None of these answers are painful to read, though T.I., 50 Cent, and Kendrick Lamar sound pretty unsophisticated. T.I. told MTV: "I don't care...if it's not something that directly affects you…what difference does it make to you what other people are doing with their lives?" 50 Cent to Vibe: "I think everyone should be happy…I don't have strong personal feelings towards it because I'm not involved in that lifestyle, but I want people to be happy." And Lamar to DJ Drama: "I don't give a fuck about people doing what they do. That's your lifestyle...Do what you got to do to be happy. Fuck it man, it's fuckin' 2012, people need to stop crying over some bullshit." I suspect this well-intentioned, half-assed "live and let live" pseudo-libertarianism will become the new hip-hop party line.

Because of how prevalent and unchecked homophobic language has been in hip-hop, the same-sex marriage issue doesn't seem like an unfair topic to broach with a rapper. However, turning rappers into mouthpieces for an entire genre seems unfair, as well as unproductive. Hip-hop's homophobia is treated as a given, which turns any utterance on the issue into a mini-event. How many rappers have to half-heartedly agree with Jay-Z before it stops generating headlines? We're frequently confronted by thinkpieces that highlight open-minded rappers and pockets of "queer rap." Maybe it needs to be acknowledged that perhaps hip-hop is progressing?

Late last week, Pitchfork called out Action Bronson after he posted a photo on his Instagram of a woman on the ground, covered in water. He tweeted along with it, "Close up of drunk Mexican tranny after Bes poured a bottle of water on its head." He later apologized, in typically Bronson-like style: "I love gay people. Trannies not so much." He added, "In no way was I trying to offend anybody from the Gay and Lesbian Community. It wasn't even a transvestite it just honestly looked like one." He also told "everyone" to "blow [him] from the back." The whole thing is terribly insensitive (it may even constitute a hate crime), but not out of character for a rapper who jokes about fucking prostitutes and throws around the insults "half-a-fag" like he's doing shtick from a Scorsese movie.

We shouldn't demand rappers live up to their on-record persona, but we shouldn't be shocked when they do. If they say something enlightened like Jay-Z and, to a lesser extent, Ice Cube, T.I., 50 Cent, and Kendrick Lamar, well, that's great. Bronson's statements, though, don't say anything more about hip-hop and homophobia than the emphatic support of Jay-Z and the hedged statements that will certainly start coming in more and more often in the coming months and years. Playing the "who's more open-minded?" game however, seems dangerous and besides the point. T.I., 50 Cent, and Lamar probably represent the average American's feelings on the topic. But that makes for a much less interesting story: Rap is maturing at about the same pace as the rest of the country. For every four or five reasonable people out there, you've got one ignorant fuck who thinks it's funny to pour water on a "tranny."

Rappers are presented as violent, vulgar sexists and homophobes, and then they're not only expected to have fully-formed opinions on social issues, but progressive ones. This is an ugly update on the always implicit, often explicit demand that hip-hop, if it is to be lauded and celebrated, must espouse a strong, left-leaning political message. For too many, Public Enemy remains the blueprint for legitimate, significant hip-hop. That ideal is impossible because very few rappers or rap groups will ever be as musically incredible as Chuck D and company. Meanwhile, the actual political messages of hip-hop have far outgrown P.E.'s radical rhetoric. Kanye West made anti-homophobic comments back in 2005. As random as they are, songs from "gangsta" rappers like the late Pimp C and Z-Ro feature pro-gay lyrics. Not to mention, Public Enemy's music contains homophobic lyrics ("The parts don't fit — aww shit," from "Meet the G That Killed Me"). This hangover from the '60s, where the clunky rockist ideal that "important" music has to "matter," in an activist sense, now has been updated to include rappers' ability to speak cogently on a particular issue in interviews. An issue, mind you, that until three weeks ago, our own president wouldn't discuss.

No Trivia

50 Cent, Ice Cube, Kendrick Lamar, t.i., Public Enemy, Action Bronson

Jay-Z and the new crew of publicly gay-friendly rappers

First Spin: Nicki Minaj and 2 Chainz's 'Beez in the Trap' Gets a Moombahton Makeover

Brandon Soderberg — Wed, 30 May 2012 16:00:01 +0000

The highlight of Brooklyn-via-Pittsburgh producer/DJ Skinny Friedman's 2011 Trap Rave EP is "Nine Piece (Blowin' Moombahton Fast Pt. 2)," a sea of Rick Ross barks, handguns being cocked, and clacking, snapping percussion, all set to the mid-tempo, Jimmy Buffet-on-Ecstasy shuffle of moombahton. Though don't sleep on Trap Rave's seven-plus-minute moombah remix of Juicy J and Lex Luger's "Who Da Neighbors," either. Hammering radio and Internet-rap favorites into the confines of global dance music's bleeding edge isn't all that impressive in and of itself. It might even be mad corny, but Trap Rave felt like both an oh-no-he-didn't acknowledgement of all those opportunistic bottle-service remixers, as well as a rap-sensitive producer showing a bunch of clowns how to do it right. It was one of last year's strangest and most inspired releases because you got a kick out of it even existing and Friedman was so clearly a fan of the rap he was pulling apart.

On Trap Rave 2.0, out next Tuesday, the remixes are even ballsier and the song choices, well, even more rap nerd-friendly. Sure, you get recent hits like Meek Mill's "House Party," 2 Chainz's "Spend It," and "Beez in the Trap," but there are also some oddballs, too — a remix of Ohio rapper and tangential Taylor Gang affiliate Freaky Franz's "On Flex"; blasts of Atari sounds charging through "Pussy Power" from Mannie Fresh's delightful, cult solo album, The Mind of Mannie Fresh; and for some reason, an airy, almost psychedelic take on Black Rob's "Whoa?" You can preview some of these remixes in the "Rack Skinny" mix here, and below, you can stream Trap Rave 2.0's version of Nicki Minaj and 2 Chainz's "Beez in the Trap," exclusively at SPIN:

No Trivia

nicki minaj, 2 Chainz, Skinny Friedman

Rap-nerd catnip from Skinny Friedman's 'Trap Rave 2.0'

Nicki Minaj

E3 Preview: Tomorrow's Video Games, Briefly Teased Today!

Dan Ackerman and Libe Goad — Wed, 30 May 2012 15:43:33 +0000

The eyes of video game fans turn to Los Angeles each spring for the Electronic Entertainment Expo. Better known as E3, this trade show, running June 4-7, is a launchpad for new video games, game consoles, and accessories, and is anchored by news-making press conferences from Sony, Microsoft, and Nintendo. Also, snacks!

As long-time veterans of the show, we've braved more than a dozen years of booth babes, unhygienic nerds, and terrible food, and here's what we expect the big stories from E3 2012 to be:

Nintendo's new Wii U console Briefly glimpsed at last year's E3 show, this is the official coming out party for the next generation of living room game consoles. Following a huge hit in the Nintendo Wii, the new Wii U ('cause it's all about you, get it?), hops on the iPad bandwagon by adding a touchscreen tablet as a new kind of controller. The new system is aiming for a holiday 2012 release, and might even get a last-minute name change.

More TV on your Xbox The Xbox 360 was originally released in 2005. Forget dog years, in video game years, that's beyond ancient. But rather than take a big risk on a new console, Microsoft has smartly evolved the aging Xbox 360 into a multimedia powerhouse. It already streams HBO, Netflix, some cable TV channels, and as of this week, Amazon Instant Video. At E3 2012, look for even more multimedia partnerships, hopefully including a much wider selection of streaming live TV, that could very well send your cable box to early retirement.

Halo 4 gets ready for prime time This shoot-em-up space opera is one of a few game series that can seemingly do no wrong. Even better for hardcore fans, original series star Master Chief finally returns to the action after a four-year hiatus filled with prequels and offshoots. Partially because these games are really good, and partially because there are so few other high-profile guaranteed hits at this year's show, look for Halo 4 to be the breakout hit of E3, and for the game to hit stores this November.

Sony connects phones, tablets, and handheld consoles Sony has the advantage of making everything a connected entertainment ecosystem needs. An excellent blu-ray playing game console in the PS3, an ambitious handheld system, the PlayStation Vita, and also a variety of laptops, phones and tablets. The company has already taken a few tentative steps in this direction, but expect a much bigger play this year at integrating all these parts, whether it's starting a game on your PS3 and continuing it on your Vita, or sending photos and video from your Sony tablet to your game console with a swipe of the finger. The right balance between powerful features and simple usability is tough to pull off, but Sony has the wide-ranging experience to give it a real shot.

Bioshock Infinite Sadly, the biggest story from E3 may very well be about what's not going to be there. Bioshock Infinite, the third game in this critically acclaimed dystopian fantasy series, was at the top of everyone's must-see list. But just a few weeks ago, Bioshock's creators decided to delay the release date from October 2012 to February 2013, and they're not even bringing the work-in-progress to E3 to show off.

That's a shame, because the Bioshock games are truly unique, mixing retro settings with political commentary and satire. The first two games played off of Ayn Rand's writing and the philosophy of Objectivism, while Bioshock Infinite, from the previous demos of the game we've seen, tackles early 20th century American themes of exceptionalism versus isolationism -- while sending you running around in a floating steampunk city filled with killer cyborgs and time rifts, of course.

Geek Show

Get ready for new titles, new hardware and plenty of sequels at this year's Electronic Entertainment Expo in Los Angeles.

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The Trilogy Tapes Unveil New Mystery Mixtape and More!

Philip Sherburne — Wed, 30 May 2012 12:31:42 +0000

The Trilogy Tapes uploaded a new mixtape this week, and in typical TTT fashion, it's a rather cryptic affair. The 22-minute mix is titled "Kynx Radio 28/05/12," but from a quick Internet search, it looks like Kynx is broadcasting over imaginary frequencies, rather than via terrestrial signals. Its genre, meanwhile, is tagged as "2 Toes Len." That's par for the course for the London label, which started out releasing limited-run cassettes by left-of-left-field artists like Peoples Coke, Soup Horrific, and Dog Lady, before branching out into CD-R and vinyl releases from techno and bass-scene darlings like Ben UFO and Kassem Mosse.

Whoever is behind the mix, he or she covers plenty of ground in the allotted time. Beginning with an extended passage of dubbed-out spoken word that sounds like it might have been lifted from a Fluxus recording, the session barrels into classic grime, including Dizzee Rascal rapping over Wiley's "Ice Rink"; from there, it shifts into coiled, snapping techno — by Shed, if I'm not mistaken, or perhaps his Wax or Equalized aliases — before flipping back to grime, and then, to close, to some dreamy piano-house laced with 909 snares. Short, sweet, and slightly off-kilter, it's just the thing for your morning commute.

Check out the Trilogy Tapes online shop for mixtapes — the latest is Two Chord Top Ten, a punk-rock compilation — as well as T-shirts designed by TTT's Will Bankhead for Gang Gang Dance and Zomby, and vinyl EPs from Dro Carey, Mix Mup & Kassem Mosse, and Madteo. The store is also distributing Joy Orbison's first single on his Hinge Finger label: "Ellipsis," a luminous, pneumatic house cut that samples an interview with drum and bass artists Source Direct ("We just used to, like, do our own thing") and features a remix from Shed's Head High alias on the flip. "Ellipsis" has been floating around in various podcasts for a while now, and to call it "eagerly anticipated" might be an understatement: It has racked up more than 140,000 plays on YouTube so far. I heard Loefah play it at Berlin's Horst club on Sunday night, and on a big, clean, bass-heavy system, it's really something to behold.

Control Voltage

The Trilogy Tapes, joy orbison

Classic grime, old-school house, Joy Orbison's new EP

Madonna Expresses Herself to Lady Gaga With 'Born This Way' Cover

marchogan — Tue, 29 May 2012 21:52:05 +0000

Madonna keeps finding ever-cheekier ways to point out the obvious similarities between Lady Gaga's "Born This Way" and the Material Girl's own "Express Yourself."

The latest comes via freshly surfaced footage of Madonna performing "Express Yourself" during a rehearsal in Tel Aviv for her MDNA tour. The performance turns into a medley, with Madonna singing the chorus from "Born This Way" before returning to "Express Yourself," intermingling lyrics from both songs to drive the point home. And then, in the masterfully malicious coup de gras, Madonna weaves in a bit of her own Hard Candy track "She's Not Me." The point, we think, is obvious.

Madonna has been playing cat-and-mouse with Lady Gaga over "Born This Way" for more than a year now. In April 2011, Madonna uploaded her 1989 MTV VMAs performance of "Express Yourself" to her official YouTube account, leading Lady Gaga to tell Jay Leno that Madonna and "her people" had expressed their "love and complete support" for "Born This Way" — not that Madonna's "people" would confirm this statement.

Then, in January, Madonna sank in her claws, telling Newsweek of "Born This Way": "I thought, this is a wonderful way to redo my song. I mean, I recognized the chord changes. I thought it was... interesting." Now we know what Madonna really meant: "She's not me."

So it would be totally OK for Madonna to perform in Indonesia, right? (Her current tour schedule runs from Europe to North and South America.)

#1 Crush

madonna, Lady GaGa

Queen of Pop mashes up 'Born This Way' with 'Express Yourself' (and 'She's Not Me') during a rehearsal in Tel Aviv

Madonna, Lady Gaga

First Spin: Hear Oddisee's 'People Hear What They See'

Brandon Soderberg — Tue, 29 May 2012 18:45:54 +0000

"I'm not a star, somebody lied / I ride the subway as a car, I'm getting by." That's Oddisee on "Do It All," the collaborative track with his DC supergroup Diamond District, from his new album, People Hear What They See. The producer/rapper just kind of throws that line out there, subtly grounding Rick Ross' hammy modesty with a gentlemanly dose of honesty. This is but one of People Hear What They See's many thoughtful takes on rap's rote subjects. If there's a concept to the album, it would be approaching the entry-level boasts and well, bullshit of rap, and turning them into true, lived-in representations of everyday life. "American Greed" is the "get money" song with a widescreen worldview of risk and reward, and "You Know Who You Are," is a track for "the haters" twisted into a celebration of those who've supported you, and a request for introspection. These are mindful contributions to a shifting hip-hop dialogue from a doggedly underground dude not too interested in being superstar, yet well aware of the frustrating limitations and walls put up by the underground, as well.

I'm focusing on lyrics a bit here because everyone's well-aware of Oddisee's production chops, right? At least, they should be. Oddisee is the type of guy for whom tags like "underrated" and "slept on" have been applied so much that I'm not sure he's even underrated anymore. One of the most impressive runs in rap as of late is Diamond District's 2009 album In The Ruff, a nostalgic rush through New York rap with a dose of go-go swing and loose, live instrumentation; last year's Rock Creek Park, a mostly instrumental memory stroll via old soul samples; and now People Hear What They See, a gritty hip-hop album with detours into orchestrated soul, quiet storm, and space disco. Last year, Oddisee put out a challenging Twitter rant on what's wrong with being called "underrated": "Reserve underrated for artists who can't catch a break but should. Not for the successful ones you want to see bigger." What excited fans are grasping at when they call him "underrated" though, is just a sense that Oddisee is an ambitious and singular talent who's hard to pin down and probably suffers a bit for that. You can hear that same, invigorating sense of "is this even rap anymore?" that you hear on Kanye's My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy and El-P's Cancer For Cure, though Oddisee's far more restrained than either of those producer auteurs. People Hear What They See is available on iTunes on June 5, and everywhere else on June 12, but you can stream it below right now, exclusively at SPIN.

:audio=1:

No Trivia

Oddisee

DC producer/rapper's latest, gently joshes the Boss, bigs up public transit, pushes the limits of boom bap

Oddisee, "People Hear What They See"

The Boys of 'Girls'

joegross — Tue, 29 May 2012 16:19:12 +0000

In all of the chatter about HBO's Girls — Is it racist? Are they annoying? — there hasn't been all that much discussion about the half of the cast not referenced in the title. This might be because they all kind of suck, except for maybe Hannah's dad (and he has his own problems). Hannah and her cohorts' baggage would not fit comfortably in the overhead compartment, and they have demonstrated almost dazzlingly crap taste in men. Rarely has a sitcom assembled such a depressingly spot-on collection of male stereotypes.

This is, of course, as it should be. The girls of Girls may serve as a reminder to older viewers that there is little romantic about life as it is being lived, but the boys of Girls remind you that if anything else, man alive, people are bad at sex when they are in their 20s (and after 50, they gotta be careful in the shower). Here is a quick survey of this semi-pathetic lot. We're not sure whom to root for, but probably Charlie. Or maybe Ray. Possibly Adam. It's like choosing between broken bicycles.

Adam Role: Hannah's not-boyfriend-turned-boyfriend Played by: Adam Driver Type: The Bad Boy Pros: Sadly, he probably understands certain things about Hannah better than she does (or at least that's the implication). They seem to have terrific sex. And, as Jessa noted last Sunday, "I love a man who only hangs out with dykes." Cons: A grandmaster headfucker. A freak in the sack who's into kinda bent (yet inadvertently hysterical) role-play. If Charlie's sensitivity is a stage men go through (more on that below), Adam is a stage women go through — boinking the bad guy. Adam is the proverbial Crappy (I'm-Not-Quite-Your) Boyfriend. He doesn't return her calls, he treats her poorly, he never wears a shirt. But his ropey frame and Dunham's potato shape (note: not a knock) quietly subvert the hot-girl-with-funny looking-guy sitcom cliché, so it's a weird triumph, one supposes, that Hannah eventually gets him to decide that they are actually dating — although this happens after some righteous yelling at her that feeds straight into their weird S&M dynamic.

Tad Horvath Role: Hannah's dad Played by: Peter Scolari Type: The Doting Dad Pros: Seems like a genuinely nice man who adores his only child. Does a wicked Woody Allen impression. Cons: Ear stud, can't fuck in the shower anymore, probably spoiled Hannah rotten Casting Scolari, a sitcom savant, was just brilliant. I like to think of Hannah as the child Peter Scolari's hysterically insufferable Newhart yuppie Michael Harris had with his on-screen girlfriend Stephanie (Julia Duffy), subsequently adopted by his new wife, the extremely brave and totally badass Becky Ann Baker. (Say what you will about Girls in general, but no television show has EVER depicted sex so honestly.)

Charlie Role: Marnie's ex-boyfriend Played by: Christopher Abbott Type: The Pushover Pros: A really swell dude. Can apparently pick up a (much more energetic) new girlfriend two weeks after getting booted. Cons: A really swell dude, so much so that Marnie finds him mawkish and repulsive. Charlie isn't as much a character as a stage that a lot of men go through — the entirely too-sensitive-in-bed stage. During SXSW, when the first three episodes of Girls screened at the Paramount Theater, you could HEAR the number of men slumping in their seats when Charlie was doing quite a bad job of satisfying Marnie. Also, he's in a shitty band. Also, he is the sort who shaves his head without warning his girlfriend (as someone who once did this, let me tell you, Marnie's reaction was SPOT ON).

Ray Role: Charlie's best friend Played by: Alex Karpovsky Type: The Jerk Pros: The only one of the guys who ever calls any of the gals on their crap or seems to have a real job. Smacks a mean bongo. Seems genuinely interested in protecting Charlie's feelings. Completely correct about bringing a baby to a warehouse party. Cons: Seems like too much of an asshole sometimes, and like he's trying to be ethnically specific in his obnoxiousness. Reading Hannah's diary was really uncool, but then again, having something as sitcom conventional as a "reading the diary" plot was a little low for this show. (However, placing it on the stage after the show was genius.) So it was faintly astonishing to see him display genuine, if panicked concern for Shoshanna. Nothing could make Ray more charming than having him get the shit beat out of him by a crack-addled 21-year-old and not really minding. My new favorite character.

Elijah Role: Hannah's college boyfriend Played by: Andrew Rannells Type: The Gay Ex Pros: Calls Hannah and Marnie on their b.s. Cons: May have given Hannah HPV. Dated Hannah without telling her that he thought he was gay. Elijah is the reverse of Willie Garson's Stanford Blatch on Sex and the City. He is not a gal's gay best friend; he is a gal's gay boyfriend whom she lost her virginity to.

Booth Jonathan Role: Hipster artist Played by: Jorma Taccone Type: The Rake Pros: So brilliantly forward with Marnie she has to, uh, relieve herself in the ladies' room. Cons: A successful New York artist, so probably an arrogant womanizer. A character whom we will supposedly see more of in the second season, Booth got to deliver one of the show's greatest lines: "I want you to know, the first time I fuck you, I might scare you a little, because I’m a man, and I know how to do things." Sleazy? Sure. A deft illustration of a thirtysomething's perspective on twentysomething sex? Definitely.

Eric the pharmacist Role: Guy Hannah hooks up with while visiting her parents Played by: Lou Taylor Pucci Type: Mr. Right-Now Pros: A nice guy from Hannah's hometown, discussion of whom made for a nice bonding moment between Hannah and her mother. Completely unafraid to use her mom's vaginal dryness as an icebreaker. Cons: Doesn’t live in New York, kind of intimidated by Hannah, a snooze in bed, and completely unafraid to use her mom's vaginal dryness as an icebreaker. Hannah slept with the seemingly asexual Eric last week. With his earnest demeanor and dislike of having his ass played with, he symbolized the Road Not Taken for our formerly Midwestern heroine. He was the sort of guy Hannah might end up with should she return home, but her post-coital chat with Adam made it clear that was not going to happen.

Jeff Lavoyt Played by: James LeGros Role: Jessa's employer Type: Cool Dad Pros: Seems like a nice enough fellow, forgives Jess for losing the kids, provides pot. Cons: Unemployed, way too fond of Jessa, brings a bottle of wine to a warehouse party This poor dude is one seriously harsh riff on Generation X: Singles co-star LeGros is a sport for playing along. Jeff was hip once, still goes to see his friends' bands at shows, and can't be bothered to hit on age-appropriate women. He is that eternal mid-life cliché: The Guy Who Wants to Nail the Babysitter. If you are a dude and Pavement and Nirvana defined your life, you are holding your dome right now and rocking slowly back and forth as he cries on the shoulder of a 24-year-old.

Wide Angle

girls

A reminder that people are bad at sex when they are in their 20s

Dirtybird's Justin Martin Gives Bass-Heavy House a Tropical Twist and Sly Wit

Philip Sherburne — Fri, 25 May 2012 19:27:31 +0000

Opposites attract, and they particularly attract Justin Martin. Consider his debut album, Ghettos & Gardens (Dirtybird), a collection of feel-good party tracks with a deceptive emotional depth. Maybe it's a San Francisco thing, something picked up at the city's Sunday afternoon outdoor parties, where generator-driven PA systems pump out bass beneath towering redwoods for a mixed crowd of house heads, B-boys, hippies, and hipsters. Martin has been playing with those kinds of incongruities since his first record, released on Ben Watt's Buzzin' Fly label in 2003. On the A side, "The Sad Piano" offered the dreamiest sort of deep house; the B side's "Thug Love" was a heavy-breathing jack track. Classic Jeckyll and Hyde: sensitive guy versus leering Lothario.

In recent years, Martin has become best known for tracks like "Mr. Spock" and the Ardalan collaboration "Lezgo": bumping, bass-heavy party starters in keeping with the irreverent vibe of Claude VonStroke's Dirtybird label, which Martin calls home. There's plenty of that on his album — the "Ghettos" part of the title, presumably — represented in swaggering 808 rhythms and O.G. exhortations like, "This is that rough shit." But he spends just as much time tending the flowers as he does cracking pavement, getting lost in daydreamy melodies and even actual birdcalls.

Unlike a lot of producers these days, Martin treats house music as a means rather than an end. There's something unmistakably modern about his sound, which incorporates elements of old-school drum and bass and new-school dubstep alongside more classic house tropes. The album is bookended by what sound like tributes to Metro Area and DJ Shadow, respectively, and between those two points, it's an anything-goes proposition: harps, breakbeats, wobble bass, deep house pads, stuttering footwork, 8-bit G-funk — sometimes all in the same track. And yet it all unfolds as easily as a Sunday afternoon in the park.

One more contradiction you'll find with Martin: He's as laid-back as they come, but it turns out that he's also a man with a 10-point plan, which is precisely what's gotten him where he is today. We talked about his music, his methods and his studio on Maui; read on for the interview.

I wanted to start with your history. You're not a San Francisco native, right? I'm originally from West Hartford, Connecticut, born and raised. I lived there for 16 years, then I moved to New York City for a few years, and then I moved to San Francisco In 1999.

What took you west? I was going to a school in New York, and I didn't feel like I was getting my money's worth. I wanted to see what else was out there, so I did an exchange program with the University of San Francisco. I was only supposed to be out there for a semester, but I've been here ever since. I fell in love with the city from the moment I got here.

Had you already been doing music in West Hartford? Growing up, I played piano from a really young age. My parents had me and my brother start music lessons when we were, like, four years old. As a kid, I hated it. I was basically forced to memorize songs. I had to practice an hour a day, and I look back now, and I'm so glad my parents made me do that. But as a kid, it was torture. I think I totally fell in love with music when I started playing the saxophone. That was around the third grade. I started playing a year early, because in my grade school, they would basically choose your instrument for you. My brother got stuck with the clarinet, which was kind of considered a dorky instrument —

Watch it, I played clarinet. No, I mean a really cool instrument! I just really wanted to play the saxophone. So my parents got me a saxophone for Christmas in third grade — if you were already playing an instrument, they couldn't tell you to play another instrument. So I started playing from a really young age, and I'd say the majority of my childhood was me involved in music and jazz, a lot of my musical background comes from me playing the saxophone.

How did you turn on to dance music, then? I was 14 or 15 years old. My dad had this insane record collection with every classic rock album from Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, the Beatles, and I was always a little more drawn to the weirder stuff, like Pink Floyd and the more experimental Beatles stuff, which gradually led to me listening to stuff like the Art of Noise. Eventually, when my brother went off to college, he started sending me music. One of the first full albums I had ever heard that really got me into dance music was Goldie's Timeless. Before that, I was listening to Everything But the Girl and Björk, and a lot of electronic-inspired pop music. So it was just just me gradually getting sucked in. Then, once I discovered drum and bass, that's when my full-on love affair began. I became hooked, I started buying vinyl — I actually couldn't afford real turntables, so I just got two shitty belt-drive turntables hooked up to a stereo mixer, just to try to learn to match beats. Once I went away to college, that's when I was full-on, taking my monthly food allowance that my parents would send and spending it all on one trip to the record store. It just grew and grew. To this day, I live and breathe dance music.

What was it about drum and bass that captured your imagination? Originally, I was really into the early Metalheadz stuff, LTJ Bukem, Good Looking Records stuff. There was so much emotion behind that drum and bass. I liked the stuff that was really beautiful, absolutely beautiful, then it would drop into the most devastating bass sounds, like stuff I had never heard in any other genre of music. I don't know, it was just next-worldly for me. I'd never heard anything like it. You'd have that beautiful emotion and these beautiful, melodic soundscapes that reminded me of the classical music I listened to growing up, and then dropping into, like, total sonic warfare. I instantly fell in love with it.

Your music strikes a similar kind of balance between bumping groove and a more sensitive, melodic sensibility. Definitely. A lot of that is inspired by early drum and bass. I look at my record collection, my vinyl that I still hold on to — I got rid of a lot of it, but I will never get rid of my drum and bass collection. Ever. No matter where I go, that's going with me. All these records, it's the same theme running through all of them — really beautiful melodies and heavy bass. I think that definitely had a heavy influence on the music I aspire to create.

You got to San Francisco in 1999; what was the scene like at the time? When I first moved to San Francisco, I was still completely infatuated with drum and bass, but unfortunately the drum and bass scene in San Francisco was a very small pocket within the dance-music community. I didn't really have that fixation fulfilled. I had to go out and find other forms of music. And the stuff that was really inspiring at that time was San Francisco deep house — Mark Farina, Miguel Migs, which was a lot more soulful, and also crews like Grayhound, Stompy, and especially Sunset. The Sunset crew were one of the most influential for me falling in love with house music. Sunset crew are these three guys — Solar, Galen, and J-Bird — and they've been throwing parties for, I think, almost 20 years now. They would do these outdoor events, called Sunset parties, obviously, and they were free day parties that would happen throughout the summer on a Sunday afternoon. That was actually our main inspiration to start doing our own renegade barbecues with Dirtybird. The music they were playing was a little bit different from the normal, soulful, vocal house that was going on at the time. They were a little bit grittier, a lot more acid-house style, and tribally stuff, than what was going on with the more popular Mark Farina, Miguel Migs kind of sound that was coming out of San Francisco. That's what I was drawn to.

There was a place called the Top on Lower Haight street. I was probably there every single Wednesday and Sunday, from the time that I had a fake I.D. till the time that it closed. It was just a little DJ bar that held maybe, like, 100, 150 people would be way too packed. Every single local legend would play there, either on Wednesday or Sunday night, and I was there religiously. I was there so much I ended up becoming resident DJ on Wednesday nights. That was probably my first real regular gig that I had as a house-music DJ. Unfortunately, the Top closed down in 2003 or 2004. That place was historic for me.

I used to go to Monty Luke's parties at the Top. I think I got roofied there once, actually. That place was a total dirty dive bar, but it had some of the best music. Going to hear Solar and Joshua play on Sunday nights, they were always one step ahead of the game with the music they were playing. Going there solidified my love for house music.

Those crews had a sort of tweaky, trippy element that was distinct from more mainstream house, and I can hear how that informed Dirtybird's sonics. I guess that's the best way to describe it: It was a little bit more tweaky. It was pre-fidget, really cool sound design; the music they were playing was very quirky, but not annoying. [Laughs.] Just really funky, but pushing the limits of what was being produced at the time.

You made a pretty big splash with your very first record, "The Sad Piano," back in 2003. Were you surprised? Oh my God, definitely. That was probably the luckiest break that anyone could dream of. I was already a huge Ben Watt and Everything But the Girl fan, and a Lazy Dog fan as well. This was 2002, and I was really gung-ho about trying to get my music out there. I had just started really producing, and I really wanted to give it a shot and try and make it as a DJ. I was using the advice from Barclay, Claude VonStroke — trying to get my tracks out there, putting everything on demo CDs and trying to get it into the hands of people. The dream was, back then, I remember, you go to [Miami for] WMC [Winter Music Conference] with your music and you find all the biggest DJs and you get them their music, and hopefully someone will sign it. It was kind of like, this is how you do it: step A, step B, step C. I never really thought it would actually work, but that was my goal: Go to WMC, hand out my CD. I remember I was completely broke in 2002, when I was supposed to go. My brother and Barclay were working on this movie Intellect, and I was supposed to go along with them, but the day before I was supposed to fly out there, I realized that there was no way. I would have been sleeping on the beach. I didn't have enough money to make it out there. So I canceled the trip and I FedExed them 10 demo CDs, and my brother went to see Ben Watt DJ and actually handed him one of my demos. Six months later, I got an email from Ben saying he was starting this label, Buzzin' Fly, and he wanted to sign my track. I thought for sure that it was just one of my friends fucking with me. There's no way that Ben Watt is actually emailing me! I was so star-struck — I was like, are you kidding me? Is this really happening?

The rest of it was just a really lucky break. I just set out to prove myself, every opportunity I had. He flew me out to play one of his Buzzin' Fly parties in London, and I just made sure I played the best possible set I could. He kind of took me under his wing after that, and really helped me with my career, early on.

With Dirtybird, at what point did you guys realize that the label was really taking on its own identity? I actually feel like it's still coming together. Our whole idea behind it, from the very beginning, has always been to put out music that is fun and blurs the line between genres. And is bass-heavy, obviously. But I remember when we hit the five-year mark [in 2010], I was like, "All right, now we really have our sound." But I feel like it's just constantly been evolving, which is a good thing. We've never really settled into being — excuse the pun — pigeonholed. As long as it's a good track and it works on the dance floor, then it could be a Dirtybird track.

There are definitely hallmarks, certain sounds you all refer to again and again, like those booming 808s. Like you say, it's super bassy. Totally. Bass has always been one of the centers of focus for us as producers. That's what moves the dance floor. Simply put, bass is the moving force. Besides the rhythm, it's something that you can actually, physically feel when you're on the dance floor in front of a speaker. It's got to be the focus. We always just wanted to do it a little bit bigger and a little bit badder than everyone else. Why settle for a simple little bass line when you can really push your sound and make something that no one has ever heard before?

I also detect a strong sense of humor, even though it's never too over-the-top. "Hood Rich," from your album, has this sound that's somewhere between a gobbling turkey and an opera singer. To me, that signals, "Okay, we're not going to take ourselves too seriously here." From the very beginning, it's always been just about having fun. That's why people go out and hear music: They want to have a good time. If I can make music that puts a smile on people's faces, then I feel like I've accomplished my job. When I hear a DJ that's really super-serious — I don't even know anything about him as a person, but the music being played, if there's not that element of fun to it, I begin to lose interest. When I go out, I go out to have a good time, and I want to create music that's a soundtrack to that.

The whole Dirtybird fam is pretty low-key. We have a really laid-back approach when it comes to music. I don't know what it is, but it's a really cool dynamic that I have with my peers. For me, it keeps me in a relaxed place where I have the confidence to explore new ideas and new sounds without worrying if it's going to be the next hit record or anything. Being able to have that confidence to make fun music and have friends around me that are supporting that, it allows me to have a lot more of a relaxed approach. And not be fighting to get to the top of the pile.

Tell me more about making the new album. How long did it take you? I'd say, from the moment I realized I wanted to finally sit down and do the album, it took me about a year. But this is something that's been weighing on me for probably 10 years. When I first signed with Buzzin' Fly, immediately Ben Watt gave me the option to do an album for him. Back then, I just did not have the discipline. I was still trying to get my foot in the door and I hadn't really found my sound yet; I had just started producing. But it was always this thing hanging over my head that I hadn't accomplished: I had this opportunity to do an album for a great label, and I just couldn’t' achieve it because I wasn't quite ready.

A lot of it has to do with inspiration I got from Barclay — seeing him do two albums and seeing the success that he's achieved, success I never thought was even possible doing what we do. But seeing the hard work that he put into it, and seeing the payoff for the hard work, and the fact that the harder he was working, the more experiences and opportunities he was able to have. All of that was really appealing to me. In 2000, I had a whole list of goals, things I wanted to accomplish. And the album was not on that list. But I accomplished pretty much all of it. It was like, this is the year I'm going to work my ass off. I did an Essential Mix, I got on the cover of DJ magazine, "Mr. Spock" came out and all these really great things happened. I made a track almost every single month, and it was just like, all right, now I'm really rolling, and I'm working harder than I've ever worked and I'm having more fun than I've ever had. What's left to do next? And of course, the album was still this unaccomplished goal. So I was like, you know what? 2011, I'm going to make this shit happen. I'm determined, this time around. And I felt like I was in the right place creatively, I was in the right place with my work ethic. Musically, I was the most inspired I had ever been, and it all just kind of clicked.

Was it the kind of thing where you were gigging on the weekends, then working on the album during the week? I had to actually take some time off from gigging. It's really hard for me to come home from playing two or three gig weekends and want to sit down on Monday and sit in front of speakers for another 12 hours. I took about two months off, throughout the year, and I built a little studio at my parents' house in Maui, which was like — not only was it my retreat, but it was also my place to detox. It was also the place of ultimate inspiration for the majority of the album. The studio that I built is right in front of this window that looks out on my dad's garden. Every day the sun is shining; I'm waking up at 7 a.m. to the sounds of birds chirping, and I'm in the most inspiring place, the house that my parents built, working on music that's basically completely inspired by my surroundings. So it was really cool to be able to get away and take time off to get deep within my soul and make some tunes.

That sounds idyllic. I'm definitely extremely blessed to have an opportunity to do something like that. But I don't want you to think that I'm from some wealthy family. The coolest thing about it all is that my parents instilled in my brother and I these values: If you work hard, you can achieve your goal. Their goal, throughout their lifetime, was to retire in Maui eventually. They worked their entire life, and we basically had to make a lot of sacrifices as kids so that they could save money for two things: To build a house on Maui someday, and for me and my brother's college education. Being at this place that's basically my parents' dream come true, and the payoff for their hard work, and being able to write my album at this place, it's the most inspiring place you could be. It doesn't hurt that it's in Hawaii, either. It's really cool being here. I just look around me, and it's like, this is what my parents taught me. If you work hard in life, you can achieve your goals.

Is there much of a dance-music scene in Hawaii? I know that DJ Harvey spends a lot of time there. I've actually never had a gig on Maui, but I've played Oahu and Kauai. It's a small scene, but this party on Kauai went off. The coolest thing about it is that it was really diverse — a very local scene, not touristy at all. So you had these Hawaiian locals ranging in age from 19 to, like, older than my parents, all just out rocking out on the dance floor. A very hippie vibe to it, as well, which is always fun. On Oahu, there's this place called Asylum, in Honolulu. It's an after-hours club, kind of inspired by the End-Up, in San Francisco, that my friend Willis owns. I play there probably two or three times a year. It's crazy. That place is so much fun. One of my favorite places to play in the world. These guys in Oahu, every time that I play for them, we will end up going to the next day — we'll play 'til the sun rises, then we'll close down the club and go set up on the beach, or set up on someone's boat. It's got that vibe where we get to appreciate the outdoors as well as good music and friends.

Suddenly the great techno capital of Berlin doesn't sound so idyllic, after all. No, Berlin's still cool, especially in summertime. You'll stumble upon some crazy party in the park with 2,000 people rocking out. It's different. I always call San Francisco, like, the Berlin of the U.S., in a way. It's got that same kind of crazy nightlife that Berlin has.

How has the San Francisco scene changed in the time that you've been there? A lot of small changes. I remember when I first moved to San Francisco, it was during the whole dotcom boom, and that's when all the Naked Music stuff was really popular, and Om Lounge and Mark Farina's Mushroom Jazz, and there was a big club culture. It was kind of shiny shirts and chi-chi martini glasses and expensive door covers. Then around 2002, 2003, I feel like everything started to change. The economy crashed a little bit, and people didn't really want to go to the pool parties any more, and the pool-party crowd was looked at as cheesy. It kind of split, and I feel like a lot of things went underground. There were a lot of warehouse parties that happened between 2003 and 2007 or 2008. There's still a considerable amount of underground parties in San Francisco, but not as much. It used to be every single weekend, Friday and Saturday, we would be at some new loft space where they had a bar; they could serve alcohol — not legally, of course — until the bar ran out, and people would just be in this grimy warehouse dancing. And then in the last few years it tapered off a little bit. I don't know if the city has cracked down or if it's a lack of new spaces. The vibe now is a lot more back to the smaller, more intimate clubs. There's a new club called Monarch; it's not pretentious, and it's got this incredible sound system. It probably has a 300-person capacity, which is perfect. Then this place 222 — it kind of reminds me of the Top. It's got a tiny little dance floor, but with a killer sound system. We do our party at this club called Mezzanine, which is a little bit bigger, but we try to keep it as far from being pretentious as possible. We make sure our door prices are really low, that all of our friends get in for free, and that we keep that — I don't know, that spirit alive. We don't want people to feel like they're in some nightclub. We want them to feel like they're rocking out at an underground event.

What do you have on this summer? A lot of touring. Right now I'm pretty much booked almost through October, every single weekend. Which is amazing — this is by far the most exciting year of my life. I've never had a gig schedule this crazy. And I'm just going to try my hardest to do as much music in between as I can. After the album comes out, Dirtybird is going to have just a few weeks to focus on that, and then we're going to get back to the regular release schedule before we do a remix project for the fall, which is going to have a bunch of the Dirtybird family doing remixes of the album. We've got Eats Everything, Danny Daze, Claude VonStroke, Catz n' Dogz — all people whose music I absolutely love and play are doing remixes, which is really exciting.

Control Voltage

Justin Martin

SF producer's "Ghettos & Gardens" is all subs and sunshine

Friday Five: The Gipper Gets Got by Killer Mike, and One Funky-Ass James Brown Book

Brandon Soderberg — Fri, 25 May 2012 17:49:19 +0000

I've been meaning to talk about RJ Smith's The One: The Life and Music Of James Brown for a few months now. I guess it's a biography of James Brown, though it's more like a very long essay about J.B. that moves through his life chronologically but doesn't feel the need to touch on every moment, assumes that you know some things about the legend, and will jump into these poignant asides about, like, shamans, and the wrestler Gorgeous George, or give you a quick history of the Cracker political party, and then dive right back into the R&B/soul/funk icon's life. I want to call it a "post-biography," but that's the worst thing I've ever typed. Have you, by any chance, read David Thomson's The Whole Equation: A History of Hollywood? It has that same kind of discursive approach where hard "facts" are important, but no more important than opinions and super interesting digressions.

Smith is particularly delicate about handling Brown's politics: A sloppy, though not exactly contradictory, mix of rugged individualism, '60s liberalism, and cutthroat looking-out-for-number-one egomania. Probably common knowledge to plenty of you reading out there, but I wasn't aware of some of Brown's business ventures until I read the book. He founded a fast-food franchise called James Brown's Gold Platter with the idea to encourage black business owners and to provide young African-Americans with the chance to move up. He also created a James Brown food stamp/coupon in the Los Angeles area, which was given out in stores run by African-Americans, further encouraging support for black-owned businesses. The state of California quickly put a stop to that idea, though.

I think there are a lot of connections between the talk you hear from so many rappers-turned-businessmen and Brown's attempts to merge self-sustaining capitalist ventures with pull-up-the-people business plans. Whether Brown's failed fast-food gambit proves that Jay-Z is a noble entrepreneur or just making himself feel better about his millions is for each of us to decide, but it's worth noting that the values espoused on Watch the Throne aren't new to black superstardom. Because it isn't tethered by typical music-bio expectations, The One really encourages this kind of thought riffing. I highly recommend it.

50 Cent feat. Kidd Kidd "O.J." If you have a small child, or if you're a 27 year-old rap blogger who likes to get high and play video games designed for babies, then you might recognize the sample on this Mike Will Made It production. It's composer Tomoya Tomita's title screen theme to Kirby's Epic Yarn, for the Nintendo Wii. At least I think it is? Like, 75 percent sure. Mr. Will Made It didn't answer my tweet, but he has been known to swipe a sound or two from a video game (Gucci Mane's Tetris-sampling "Get It Back"). On The Lost Tape, which is supposed to be 50 Cent's return to mixtape prominence, he either raps his ass off or gets goofy. On "O.J.," he just does the latter, thanks to a hook that's in poor taste, like something off 50 Cent Is the Future: "Put on my O.J. gloves and watch me kill this shit…I'm pullin' off an O.J., I'm killin' these bitches!" And new buddy Kidd Kidd, whoever that is, has some LOLZ-worthy, damn-near-dada non sequiturs here: "Tell the pigs to kiss my shitter / Yeah, I'm kind of thinner, but goddamn your jeans are slimmer / I don't want you 'round my child, you look like a sex offender." The whole thing is ridiculous. 2012 finally has its "Zan with That Lean."

Camp Lo "52 Pick-Up" Another version of Fort Apache was released back in 2006. There's probably some mildly interesting reason why that version has been erased from the Internet and replaced with this "mixtape album" that's barely even an EP. The DD172 logo on the back cover has got me thinking I should chalk this one up as more Dame Dash fuckery in the style of the half-assed hard-drive purge that was Curren$y and Ski Beatz' Muscle Car Chronicles. Then again, isn't it kind of perfect for a group as mired in nostalgia as Camp Lo to resurrect their half-a-decade-old scraps? Are they the original hypnagogic poppers? Is there a group before them so thoroughly interested in evoking the feeling of their childhood years? 1996's Uptown Saturday Night was rakish street rap by way of blaxploitation soundtracks damaged by the hiss and pop of a cheap 16mm print. "52 Pick-Up" shares its name with the John Frankenheimer flick from the '80s that was trying to be a '70s flick, and Ski Beatz' beat kicks and claps like a lost Def Jam 12-inch — or a track from the second half of Clipse's Hell Hath No Fury. You decide. Man, we're just in a maze of misremembering here, aren't we?

G-Mane feat. ST 2 Lettaz "Money Machine" The honeyed beat from Dave Luxe with G-Side's ST doing his best Max Julien impression and shouting-out 8Ball & MJG's "Break-A-Bitch College" should give you enough of a warning: This song is the latest in a long line of stone-cold, smoothed-out, pimp-talk rhymes. But nothing's ever that simple for Florence, Alabama's G-Mane, a sort of Bun B and Nate Dogg and Ice Cube all rolled into one (he's really a contemporary of all three, yet a nostalgia act if only for the reason that he refuses to adjust his style and knows how the Internet works). And so, right in the middle of "Money Machine" is Arthur Jensen's classic monologue from Network ("You are an old man who thinks in nations and peoples..."), halting the blazed-on-the-highway swerve, reminding you that our lives are dominated by evil corporations, and tying entry-level pimpin' to a world out of control with exploitation and abuse. ST goes in on this one, but it's G-Mane's laconic wisdom that keeps the song from being just one more pimp-slap rap: "I'm what they fear, America's nightmare / Black and educated with a little money to spare / Yeah, I know they don't like it, but I don't care / They can kiss my Gucci underwear."

Killer Mike "Reagan" The best noises on R.A.P. Music aren't those cyborg cur- stomp drums or the dystopian synths. It's the juicy, comedic keyboard gurgles sloshing away in the background. They don't connote anger, but disgust, which is a far more appropriate response to what's detailed on "Reagan." As was the case with Ab-Soul's "Terrorist Threats" last week, I find the "Obama is exactly the same as all the rest of them" rhetoric pretty lazy and cynical. This song is far more effective when it's turning Reagan into the symbol and not just a symbol for political corruption. But I get the sense that if I told Mike any of this, he'd remind me that Robert Gates, number two in the C.I.A. during the Iran-Contra Scandal, is Obama's Secretary of Defense, so I should probably just STFU. More compelling than a Wikipedia entry and as insightful as the anti-Reagan chapters of Rachel Maddow's pop-thesis Drift, "Reagan" feels like a necessary intro to Iran-Contra and the alleged "dark alliance" that connects the C.I.A. to crack sales. Killer Mike should be a guest on Maddow's show, don't you think? I need to start a "KILLER MIKE ON MADDOW" Facebook group.

Struggle feat. Yelawolf & Ounze Zilla "Satellites" Look, I didn't expect Yelawolf's half-great, half-terrible Radioactive to move through the major-label system unscathed, but I was hoping that if it was going to pander, it would've been as this atrociously awesome, double-time rhyming, hard-rockin', tweaked-up, twangy, brostep explosion. There's a whole bunch of sad, weird, poor-ass white kids just dying for that shit! Plus, Yela's touched on country-fried dubstep before ("Growin' Up in the Gutter," "Animal," Trunk Muzik: 0-60's "Billy Crystal") and it's just a perfect fit. Had Yela gone full-on in that direction, it probably would've sounded a bit like "Satellite," from Waylon Jennings' grandson Struggle (maybe you remember last year's "Outlaw Shit"). At some point, it probably would've seemed "problematic" for there to be this narrowcasted white-trash rap scene, but now it feels necessary. There's a white middle-schooler somewhere getting made fun of because his shoes are from Payless who straight up needs a groaning post-Nickelback hook morphing into a sub-Skrillex getupgetupgetup to get through his day, you feel me?

No Trivia

Friday Five, 50 Cent, James Brown, killer mike, yelawolf, camp lo

Plus, 50 Cent, G-Mane, and Waylon Jennings' grandson