[noisereductions]

I wrote this back in May on my stupid little jazz blog. It seems like it is really heavy now that a new Tribe album is dropping next week:

This is a little bit late, but I've been shady at best when it comes to updating the blog here. So forgive me. But it would be wrong for me to not pay my respects to the late great Phife Dawg. To say that A Tribe Called Quest was important to me would be a vast understatement. I still vividly remember the day I heard Midnight Marauders for the first time. It was the Winter of 1993. A friend and I thought it would be a good idea to skateboard for some reason, although it was far too cold. I had mentioned that I loved this new single called "Award Tour" and it turned out this kid had the full cassette. He duped me a copy and I was on my way. Before the album was over, I was a fan. And that cassette would go on to live within my Walkman until I could afford to buy a CD copy of my own. By this point it was my new favorite album. Maybe my favorite album ever.

Over the new few months I became obsessed. I had to track down every Tribe album - including the rather uncommon remix collection that was never released in the States, Revised Quest For The Seasoned Traveler. But even that wasn't enough. I had to find every single I could that might contain some remix I hadn't heard. I had to buy every compilation out there that featured a new Tribe b-side. In many ways, Tribe was my first foray into what it really meant to be a rabid fan. To really care so much about music that you just wanted to hear it all.

And in fact, Tribe's music was also outward reaching. Being obsessive about them meant not just hearing everything that they made; it also meant hearing the music that inspired them. Just look at the cover of Midnight Marauders - it's a checklist of hip hop friends that they want you to check out. And while that one remains my favorite in their discography, it's another record that's more important to this site.

The Low End Theory was not the first hip hop album to sample jazz. Of course it wasn't. But it was certainly one of - if not the most important to really making that mainstream. And thus, combing through the credits of this one became my early syllabus for studying jazz. There's a reason why this record is so personally important to me that it would be responsible for the name of this site.

Phife Dawg was never really the star of the group. Q-Tip was generally the more outspoken one. And while Ali was certainly the "quiet one," he also had plenty of cred thanks to outside production work. But Phife brought a much-needed counterbalance to the crew. While Q-Tip had that sugary voice and dreamy flow, Phife was all bombast and punchlines. While I could try my best to put into words just how jazz-like these two personalities were when juxtaposed, nothing I could say could sum it up quite like listening to "Buggin' Out." Close your eyes and just think of their two voices as instruments trading solos. It's ethereal.

Though Phife wasn't exactly prolific in his output post-Tribe (having only released one solo album that flew under most radars), his loss' effect on hip hop is ineffable. At least in my eyes. What we've lost is hope.

Anybody who may have watched Michael Rappaport's documentary, Beats, Rhymes & Life which told the confusing and heartbreaking story of a group that seemed too volatile to exist, probably still held out hope anyway. Through all the murkiness of how and why they just couldn't hold it together, there seemed to be a genuine respect - and greater than that, a love - between these guys. Although the final Tribe studio album was released way back in 1998, it never actually felt like the end to me. I always believed (hoped) that one day I'd wake up and see a blog post somewhere about how SURPRISE! Tribe has secretly recorded a reunion album and it's out right now! But now that hope has died. In many ways that bit of hope has kept me perpetually thirteen years old all these years. A little piece of me was still that kid skateboarding in the cold.

But at least one good thing has come from Phife's untimely passing: the world has realized its loss. When I read the news it was via Pitchfork. And to be honest, I figured that this news would never reach mainstream press. Phife was certainly not a household name. Heck, even Tribe were probably unknown by name to most non hip hop aficionados. (I suspect that they were simply known as "those guys who did 'Scenario' on Arsenio" to many a casual admirer). But really it meant a lot to me to see Phife get the praise, respect and love that he deserved. Pitchfork went on to publish several articles in tribute, I even heard NPR discussing his passing, which felt good.

The truth is that as rambly as I make this post, it doesn't matter. I could go on and on trying my best to say everything that I can think of, but none of it will even be tip of the iceberg. All I can really do is say that Phife was part of something that had a profound effect on me that continues to this day. And all I can really say is Rest In Peace.