August 2010 Archives

The Abstract Pack is back with a new LP entitled Ear-Responsible. They've managed to resist all urges to go more mainstream with their sound, and create a "popular" record by staying true to themselves and the original philosophy that the group set out with 12 years ago; to create their own lane and have the mainstream drive in that.

And why should they conform to the auto-tune and pop tracks of their peers? They are grown men, who are married with children. To put out tracks about being on the block or up in the club would be to advocate lifestyles that don't really align with their beliefs or situations. And while that may be fine and dandy for some people in the game (ahem Rick Ross), The Pack is about more than that. There is a sense of responsibility that goes into their music. Not so much a responsibility to provide a social commentary or critique of some kind (although they do), but more a sense of making music that is true to their community, to their kids, and to themselves.

There is a sense of responsibility that goes into their music.

But where does this come from? Minnesota may be the cause. MSP had this to say:

Minnesota is a place where originality exudes. We were able to appreciate the region's influence on our music yet generate our own sound. There wasn't any pressure placed upon us to "represent Minnesota" like there are for artists coming out of the East, West, or South. The downside to that is that there aren't many resources available to hip hop artists coming out of the Twin Cities. That makes getting national/international attention a bit more difficult to attain.

Indeed, it seems to be a decision that most hip hop artists have to make at some point in their careers: Go for big money and mainstream success or do something completely different and original and take whatever comes along with that. The Pack was coming up in the "golden era" of hip hop, when the way to gain notoriety was to do something completely different and creative, and add something new to the culture. Rastar spoke on this, as well as the way the industry has changed from then to now.

Our agenda was always to form our own lane and to do whatever we wanted to do artistically. Today is seems that you have to sound like so-and-so in order for the masses to gravitate toward your music. Also, the digital age wasn't as prevalent either. Today's artists can establish their own careers using the internet. Computer programs have made it easy for virtually anyone to create a home demo that sounds almost studio-like in quality. The good thing about it is that artists no longer have to rely on label deals to be successful.

Our agenda was always to form our own lane and to do whatever we wanted to do artistically.

The Pack seems to have caught some of that DIY attitude themselves. Their two latest videos, for the singles Attraction and Ideas of Grandeur were both shot using 3G iphones: "We wanted to stay away from producing something that had too much of an HD feel. The majority of videos out today all have very similar imagery and they look homogenous. We wanted to showcase our creative side by offering a different visual conception and feel. Each videos was an experimental project. In "Attraction" we wanted to create a video that was grown and sexy without being trashy and misogynistic. It's all about flirtation in this video. For "Ideas of Grandeur", we simply wanted to showcase who we are as artists; our energy, how we get down at live shows, lyrical range, etc."

In the past 12 years since their debut LP Bousta Set It (For the Record), The Abstract Pack has gone through ups and downs, highs and lows. The decision to ultimately reform the group, start their own indie label, Pack Material LLC, and put out Ear-Responsible was in part due to popular demand from their fans. But regardless of fights, break ups, and everything else that's happened along the way, one overwhelming notion remains: At the end of the day they are a family first, and that is what matters most.

We've lived together, fought together, helped raise each others kids, helped raise one another.

Eklipz further elaborates on this: "We are, first and foremost, brothers. The music is the common bond we share. We've lived together, fought together, helped raise each others kids, helped raise one another (most of us come from single parent homes where Mom served as both parents), we even had to bury one of our original members (RIP Herbert Ford Foster IV aka Sess). The truth is that we've broken up several times since founding the group, but the spiritual bond we share cannot be unlinked regardless of how much we disagree, argue, or fight. That's what you see within any family structure. At the end of the day music is music but family is forever."

Make sure to check out the new album when it drops, because it will definitely be worth a listen. The Pack will be providing fans with a free copy of Ear-Responsible. All you need to do is join their Fans List by emailing your email to abstractpack@packmaterial.net and you'll be sent a link to a free download!

Chances are you've never heard of Remains, or the diverse array of music and artwork he produces. That's okay with him. Remains isn't big on hype, or fame, or names in general. He's big on other things, though- like making sick, astoundingly unique beats, for one.

"I don't think too much about how I'm going to get hyped," says Yung Hui, putting his feet up on a small red stool in his home studio. To me, he demonstrates the epitome of enigmatic nonchalance.

"What's necessary to me is just making as much music as I can."

He has instructed me to make reference to his given name as minimally as possible in my interview write-up. Understandably, he wants the focus to be placed firmly on the music that his moniker represents, the elusive fruits of the tireless labor that he's been putting in for the last few months. Images of his paintings, which you see here, keep in line with his emphasis on the art being the foreground. But today he's ready for his close-up.

In the end, I want people to get something out of my beats.

"My name is Remains," he begins, "and I'm a beat maker from British Columbia. I work with samples, in a collage style manner. When I'm working I'm usually completely isolated. It has to be just me and the samples."

Of course it's not like the guy's content to stay in the lab and tinker with his sounds indefinitely without ever releasing his songs to the public. The way I see it, Remains is like a superhero costume that Yung slip into whenever he feels like swooping in and dropping an ensemble of haunting, eerie, yet ridiculously captivating tunes on unsuspecting eardrums.

And though he's taking his time in perfecting and tuning up his music, in preparation for his tentative third album release in a few weeks, he's palpably stoked to release it to his listeners, wherever and whoever they might be.

"I think with the recent stuff I've been putting out, it's been more on the rough side, not so upbeat, not so clean. And I've been trying a lot of different experiments; recording my own drums, keyboard samples and whatnot. You know, keeping my music really open, loose."

Loose is how he looks right now. As he's reclining on his chair, with a grey tee, jeans, and grey socks, Remains gives off an aura of calm. Occasionally he will spring to life and play a song- like "Low Class Conspiracy" by Quasimodo- to accentuate a point of his, but for the most part he's soft spoken and low-key. The heavy bass in his songs, though, is anything but.

"I've been working on a consistent theme- I like the idea of making something specific. With whatever I'm putting out, I'm influenced by different kinds of music and different kinds of experiences in my life. In the end, I want people to get something out of my beats."

Remains definitely gets a lot out of his beats and the practice of producing them. Like many artists, he feels a therapeutic effect from the whole process. However, he does recognize that there has to be a balance between enjoying his music by himself and exposing it to others.

"Bringing my music out to the public, that's also a really enjoyable process. Just seeing the way people react. Overall, it's therapeutic for me. You have to play between being a bit isolated and having your own time, figuring out what kind of sound you want to make, and realizing that, at the end, you're living in a society, and you have to expose that music to that society. I don't think that I'm just doing it solely for myself."

Music is not just music, but it's all about sound, and sonic experiences.

Remains isn't the type of artist who necessarily craves fans or produces music that the industry wants to hear. A strong personal touch is evident in all of his beats, and a lot of that artistry is difficult to translate, especially for a mainstream audience used to being coddled with easy-to-follow lyrics and cookie cutter instrumentals. And he understands that.

"I appreciate anyone who listens to my music," he admits. "People have to take themselves to a certain place to be able to experience it. I'm kind of thankful that there are people out there who listen to it and they get it. It gives me the sense that I'm doing something right."

Most musicians use an instrument or their vocals to create their tracks. Remains uses ACID Pro, a program in which he samples aspects of a smorgasbord of sounds and influences that range from 60's German progressive rock to the Blade Runner soundtrack to boom-bap hip hop.

The methods he uses are similar to those of his producer idols, such as Madlib, the late J.Dilla, and Flying Lotus, though the sounds they each utilize can vary dramatically. Each artist also uses a different toolbox of programs which each have their own strengths and weaknesses.

Though he is actually quite proficient on several instruments- for instance, he records many of the drum parts for his songs from a drum set in the basement- Remains does not consider himself to be a musician.

"Anyone can play a melody," he notes. "To play masterfully, to come up with melodies that are structured, that's a very different process than I'm used to. It's not like I'm limiting myself, but that's just two different things, musicianship and beat making. I think the overarching idea of the beat making process in general is that music is not just music, but it's all about sound, and sonic experiences. That's kind of what I try and do with my art."

I don't think that it's about genres so much as people who experiment with the idea of sound.

It's definitely worth mentioning, if it isn't apparent already, that Remains is a supremely talented visual artist, with an extensive background in painting, drawing, media arts, and sculpture. Currently attending the prestigious Rhode Island School of Design, he barely had time to work on his music at all during the school year, with the immense workload put on his plate.

However, the idea that his visual art is a day job, with music being a true passion, is far from accurate. They are both interconnected in his mind, playing off each other and mutually enriching his projects.

"With music and art, they lend themselves to one another in ways I never imagined. When I started drawing, I really started with a technical background that was very opposite or contrary to the abstractness of the music that I make. So I can understand the contrast. But sometimes they gel, these different ideologies in art making.

One is like you're able to craft things, because you have the hand, or the ability to construct these things well. This is like the aspect of musicianship in art. Then there's the role of being the conductor. You have to really expand your mind in that sense, and think about art not just in the conventional way. I think I'm more of a conductor, a director."

As a listener, it pays to have an open mind as well when absorbing Remains and his works, which defy genres and categorizations. Though for instance hip hop has a prominent role in his repertoire, he doesn't want to cite specific genres as a source of inspiration.

"I always think about it as a sonic experience," says Remains. "So I don't think that it's about genres so much as people who experiment with the idea of sound. That's a universal process across genres. Like Madlib. These people, they know how to construct different sounds and put them together. That's brilliant."

Incorporating sounds from real life, such as idle chatter and police sirens, into his psychedelically inclined music enables Remains to imbue his tracks with a style that is simultaneously familiar and alien. As an artist, this represents his underlying philosophy regarding art in general.

"Art is supposed to bring light to the issues. I think that art is usually a statement about real life. Art can usually be the reality of the situation...whereas real life is very illusionary."

There can be no illusion when it comes to the pure visionary qualities embedded in Remains and his tracks. The song titles alone- such as Ms. Art Gallery, Polka Dots, Nightmare Napping, and Suburb Slave- evoke a hybrid visual/sonic mentality that showcases his versatility and crossover talents. As he plays a track named "Transfer" over his speakers for me to listen, he casually describes the thought process behind the song's production, and manages to paint a scene in my mind with pure cinematic clarity.

"I imagine the shower scene from Psycho with this song. I was almost thinking an anime. The character is showering, and suddenly instead of water being poured out it's like streaks of black. There are positive and negative energies, changes to the flow, and the idea of water being a source of revitalization.

When you shower, you clean yourself, but there's an isolation that reaches a point of critical mass. You feel so alone, that it becomes eerie, ridiculously scary. And at that point there's a whole transformation that takes place. That's why it's called transfer."

Remains absentmindedly bobs his head to the beat, thoroughly enjoying the sonic experience that only his imagination can properly do justice to. As "Transfer" tapers away and dissolves into silence, he muses about the track once more and its relevance to his artist name.

"This song begins at the beginning, and ends at the end. That's the whole idea of Remains. You don't start with remains. You just go through this whole process, and at some point you stop becoming one thing and you break off into a million things.

And then...what happens to your work when no one's around....when no one can see it? There are just remains." With that thought, he leans back in his chair and looks at the ceiling. Remains is on the way up.

I watched the liquid in the pot slowly come to a simmer. The large bubbles that would occasionally find their way to the surface gave way to smaller, more frantic ones and the accompanying wisps of steam. I leaned in and took in a long lingering smell of my dinner. "Not quite there ..." I thought to myself as I opened my cupboard and surveyed the apothecary in front of me.

I reached up and slid the box of spices from their space on the shelf and surveyed the contents; not looking for anything specific. The selection of spices brought a smile to my face—the Spanish smoked paprika was tucked in behind the ground lemongrass, which shared a corner with the Greek oregano—not to be confused with the Italian mix that I frequently used. Life, like food, cannot be pinpointed to one source. Although something may be Italian or Chinese in origin, inevitably you will find surprising roots. The dish I was making that night was the pulled pork (for tacos) for a Single Gals Valentine's Dinner. It was indeed succulent—the pork was tender and swimming in a rich, fatty sauce that complemented the toppings sublimely. On the surface, it was a Mexican inspired dish, but the ingredients that went into the slow cooker were purely Asian. The pork sat in a cooking marinade of chicken broth, soy sauce, oyster sauce, ginger, green onions, sugar, and chili oil; ingredients of my childhood and staples in my pantry. These bottles, however, also mingle next to balsamic vinegar, grape seed oil, and fish sauce Signs of a gourmet cook? Sure, but I like to think of it as the results of living globally and being open-minded.

Where I feel I am from on the inside can never be reconciled.

The purpose of this piece is to answer, "But where are you really from?" I question back, " but do you really have to be from one place?"

I remember a trip to Paris when I was asked the but where are you really from question, a gentleman inquired of my background and I politely responded, "Canada." Clearly this did not answer his question because without hesitation, he inquired again. I sighed and responded, "Hong Kong ... China." It is not as though I'm ashamed of coming from Hong Kong (quite the opposite really! Ha-ha, defensive much?) but since when is "Canada" not a sufficient answer? Our wonderful, multicultural, multifaceted country perhaps holds no true 'ethnic identity,' and why should I feel pressured to narrow myself further?

Although I was born in Hong Kong, I grew up surrounded by friends of many different backgrounds and cultures. Even today, I relish working in a multicultural environment where sharing traditions and histories is an unconscious and free-flowing process.

An inevitable push-pull that affects my heart and loyalties.

I have no doubt that the but-where-are-you-really-from question can come from good intentions. I have never been asked this question in a hostile way, but always with gentle curiosity and perhaps a way to develop some kind of kinship of common ground. I have never been offended by this question but merely frustrated. Frustrated that where I feel I am from on the inside can never be reconciled with the way I look on the outside. Yes, I am Chinese and proud to be Chinese but it would be ignorant of me to ignore all the influences that other cultures have had in my life. Even being "Canadian" can be troublesome—I spent my formative years in Vancouver but came into adulthood in Toronto. Two very different cities that have had an indelible influence on who I have become.

Our multicultural country holds no true ethnic identity.

If I were to be asked, "but where are you really from?" I'm not sure how I would answer. I am sure it would be affected by who was asking—are they asking me if I am Canadian? Chinese? From Hong Kong? Vancouverite? Torontonian? Like my name, where I feel I am from is a hyphenated mess. There is an inevitable push-pull that affects my heart and loyalties—I must include them all if I want to truly convey who I am and where I am from. There would be no Vancouverite if it was not tempered by the Torontonian and the Chinese is mellowed and subdued by the Canadian. Like the different senses of taste—sweet, salty, sour, bitter, and savory—all of my identities work in different strengths and potencies in a continually—evolving identity. And I can truly say that I have enjoyed every minute of developing that identity and like that pulled pork, I am eagerly anticipating the flavours to come.