The number one problem with underground Hip Hop, even for
those of us who strongly identify with the so-called “backpacker” scene, is
that the production quite often obfuscates the impact, whether out of a willful
desire to be different (see: some of El-P’s
early work) or a simple lack of funds. Say what you will about the
commoditization of Hip Hop culture and the resulting homogenization of the
genre, but at least most major label rap has a good beat and you can dance to
it – which is not to say that underground rappers should sell their soul to the
corporate devil and quest for the almighty dollar. But DAMN, can a brother at
least get a final mix in which your everything-but-the-kitchen-sink aesthetic
does not completely drown out your lyrics?!
This is all a wordy way of saying that Count Bass D, for all the impressive credits on his resume, could
use a little “less-is-more” guidance. Hailing from the Hip Hop haven of Nashville, the man
emerged more than a decade ago as one of the first underground Hip Hop artists
to produce an album using only live instrumentation. Within a few years, he had
traded amps for samplers, and ultimately collaborated with the BeastieBoys, Prefuse 73 and MF DOOM.
With his debut on the respected Fat Beats label, Count Bass
D proves to be one of those eclectic indie artists whose refusal to value
audience accessibility nearly as much as creativity will turn off all but the
most faithful underground Hip Hop heads. All the right elements are there,
including crafty beats, clever samples, jazzy grooves and intelligent lyrics;
but the way in which they’re combined creates such a cacophonous din that it’s
impossible to decide which sound to focus on at any given moment. On “Internationally
Known,” for example, the treble of the piano sample and the snap of the snare
drum almost completely overwhelm his syncopated rhymes, not to mention the
jazzy organ chords that occasionally pop up in the mix. The melodic
counterpoint between the organ and melodica on “Case O’Dilla” proves
headache-inducing even before the vocals kick in, much less the wailing siren
and other samples he piles on like a gluttonous fat boy at an all you can eat
sonic buffet.
When he does keep things on the relatively minimalist tip
(see: “The Slugger of Louisville”), you finally get a glimpse of why so many
artists want to work with Count Bass D,
and the clean funk-soul groove of the Van
Hunt-produced ballad “Half the Fun” proves that all the man really needs is
someone to help edit out his self-indulgent tendencies. It’s just too bad there
aren’t more moments like that on the album. To some, Act Your Waist Size will be godly; to others, like trying to read
hieroglyphics. For me, it’s somewhere in the middle.
