Meet the full-on Press
I don't tend to believe that things happen for a reason. I believe in a world of random collision and happenstance, lesson to be gleaned later. I'm told it's not the sexiest belief system. But there is wonder in that world of pragmatism. Whenever something extraordinary happens, when a perfect storm of factors all collide for an unpredictable event, rather than seeing a predetermined reason, I'm staggered by sheer improbabilities.
Sept. 8. The day of the storm. The day I'm going to Redhookfest at the Redhook Brewery to interview local live hip-hop juggernaut The Press who are in turn opening up for George Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic. The morning of the interview, the multi-significance of the meeting begins to hit me. Primarily, I'm jacked to meet up with them again. My band The Fiends had played what was probably our fourth gig ever as a co-bill with The Press at The Stone Church back in June of '05. We were both new bands on the scene, and two of a very small handful of live area hip-hop acts so it was heartening to meet others in this intimate community. I remember The Press and get excited. Also, they've had a long-standing residency holding down Thursday nights at the Dover Brickhouse. Having attended a few of those Thursdays, I've gotten to appreciate how versatile The Press is. Depending on the feel of the night or Brickhouse management or availability of members, each show is different. During their tenure there, they've hosted MC-driven open mic nights with tons of guest rappers, other nights have spotlighted the amazing instrumental portion of the band, and some nights have been straight up Press shows. I get anxiously excited. I realize that I'll be treated to an early listen of their first full-length record "Get Right," dropping on the 28th of this month when they return to Redhook Brewery for the official CD release party. I get selfishly excited. Then, I remember that I've never interviewed a band before. I get nervously excited. Wait, I've never interviewed anyone before. Now I'm just nervous. And oh yeah, it's my birthday.
There are two popular axioms that I find to be bogus. The first is that most animals are just as scared of you as you are of them. I'm no woodsman, but I truly doubt that a bear could be that scared of me. The second is, if you're nervous during public speaking, picturing the audience in their underwear helps. I won't go into why, but that's just distracting. So neither truism is helping as I drive to Redhookfest. Plus it's over 90 degrees and it isn't quite 11 a.m. I arrive and head toward the stage area, guided by the sounds of Parliament's soundcheck and meet up with Cap, one of The Press's three MCs and the unofficial soul focal point of the trio. After a few minutes with him, I get the feeling he's about as accustomed to interviews as I am. I find out that they've recently had to change their name to The Press Project as there is another outfit in Albany, NY with the same name. But we'll just call them The Press, for short. As Cap tries to track down the rest of the band, I pepper him with questions about the new record. He doesn't give much away but I can see on his face how excited he is to finally be releasing this record. Recording started last November and this release constitutes the finish line for a long race that these guys, despite some bumps in the road, are all very proud of. From their MySpace page, I'd already heard live versions of a couple of tracks from the record and as I ask Cap about them, I notice that he tends not to talk about himself without it being in the context of the whole band. It doesn't seem to be about the individual in this group. With such a refreshing lack of ego, it's not hard to see why they've become the Seacoast's hip-hop/funk ambassadors, opening for The Roots, Robert Randolph, George Clinton and Slick Rick, yes THE Slick Rick. If you know who that is, you know how big that is. I meet The Journalist next, another in the triad of rappers. He's just as welcoming, serene and conciliatory as Cap. We share a brief conversation about how long it was since we played together, the current state of hip-hop, where it's been and where it's going. We only touch briefly on the record, (he's also as tight-lipped about the record as Cap) at which point the band is summoned to the stage area for soundcheck and photos. I'll have to wait until after the performance to talk to them all together. I jet home to coordinate some birthday plans.
Returning to the Brewery, though temps are flirting with the mid-90s, my heart is warmed by the show. These guys graduated from the same school of hip-hop as I did. You can feel the influence of Pharcyde, The Roots, De La Soul, A Tribe Called Quest, Beastie Boys, even Arrested Development on their vocals, their style, even their spiritual outlook. It comes through on the record too. They come from a peaceful era of hip-hop, where jazz was central and love was fundamental. It takes a lot more guts to hold a mic and say hug hug than bang bang and I respect that. They lead the audience in a chant, a classic hip-hop move to engage the crowd that no other style of music can pull off quite as well. By the end of the show, the band is all verging on a mass blackout. They've been moving the delighted crowd for nearly two hours in the oppressive heat, and they need to disappear. Assembling them all in one room quickly proves impossible. I find Cap, he gets pulled away. I track down The Journalist, he's surrounded. And MC Face Of Fate has apparently been swallowed whole by the admiring crowd. I'm eventually able to have a conversation with guitarist Jim Dozet, and drummer Jay "J2K" Trikakis, who often collaborate on other projects with bassist Roland Nicol. We talk about the record and how playing on these different projects allows them to introduce new ideas where it might otherwise become stagnant. The method works and is quite evident when I'm eventually able to hear the CD. The backing tracks are tight like they were built from samples when they need to be and sparse and melodic when called for. As "Get Right" spans introspective spoken word on "Good Day," soulful yearning on "MusicMaker" and classic lyrical gymnastics on "From The Desk Of The Press" and "The Cut," it's the backing music that makes you feel what's being said. There are also four "Moments" on the CD, featuring either improvisations from the studio or seeds of beats that didn't flower into songs, that were funky and unique enough to still deserve inclusion in the record.
After several hours in this sauna of love and madness, it's time for me to go. As I trade hand pounds and half-hugs in farewell to The Press, I personally and genuinely thank them for helping to keep hip-hop alive in our little part of the planet and for an excellent, one-of-a-kind birthday gift. Keep The Press on y'all.
