Nujabes: Master Without Borders
What more can be said? The music of Japan’s Seba Jun is almost without description. His music seems to take us away to a place, a place not of this world. Nujabes was an artist whose music truly deserves to be called “spiritual”.
I find Nujabes’s beats to be highly interpretive. I think that they’re meant to be. Nujabes never seemed to me to be one of those artists, like Rage Against The Machine or Rise Against, who tries to shove their opinions down your throat, but rather, he opened up his perspective on life to you. The rest was up to you. He presented the music and then seemed to say, “Make up your own mind about what that meant.”
Many of us were first introduced to Nujabes through the anime Samurai Champloo, which was directed by Shinichiro Watanabe of Cowboy Bebop fame. Much like how Cowboy Bebop mixed science-fiction with the western, Samurai Champloo mixed Japan’s Edo-era with hip-hop. This combining of different artistic settings is very indicative of the Nujabes style. Listen to say, “Lady Brown”, which takes the sweet guitar strumming of Luiz Bonfaz with the rapping of Cise Starr. Samurai Champloo is a fun anime and the soundtrack is also quite distinct. Nujabes was not the only artist working on the record, with contributions from Fat Jon and Force Of Nature. However, the soundtrack, while fairly impressive, is not the best representation of Nujabes as an artist.
This isn’t to say their aren’t good Nujabes tracks in Samurai Champloo. The opening theme “Battlecry”, featuring the Shing02 captures the fierce character of the anime’s lead samurai. When I first heard the song, I was surprised to learn that it was produced by a Japanese artist. That sound could just as easily have come from a rapper in America. Interestingly enough, the two ending themes “Shiki No Uta” and “Who’s Theme” do not try to mask their origins. They are produced to sound very traditional, providing a cultural root to an otherwise anachronistic show. “Shiki No Uta”, or “Song Of The Seasons”, is a essentially an older Nujabes song, “Beat That Laments The World”, but with Minmi’s vocals. Her voice, though, has is more soulful in “Who’s Theme”, which makes it sound a bit less Japanese and a bit more R&B. Yes, both songs have R&B influence, but this is stressed further in “Who’s Theme”. Note how the song opens, with haunting background voices to add some harmony to Minmi’s lead. Recall, too, that the songs also differ in their tempo. One is vivacious, while the other is soothing.
Another song from the Samurai Champloo soundtrack, who’s popularity rivals “Battlecry” is probably “Aruarian Dance”, which has a well liked, full-hour homework edit on YouTube.Why is this song so popular? Is it because of Samurai Champloo? Maybe, but I don’t think so. I don’t even remember when the song appeared in the anime. I think people love the song because of its simplicity. Nujabes is essentially looping the same part of Laurindo Almeida’s cover of “The Lamp Is Low”. There may be something attractive in that. In a way, all of Nujabes’s music is looping, but we like that about him. “Aruarian Dance” is simple, but it always makes me nostalgic. I don’t know why.
Before Samurai Champloo Nujabes produced the album Metaphorical Music in 2003. Metaphorical Music was Nujabes’s first solo album, though he had done earlier songs with his Hydeout Productions, like “Don’t Even Try It.” On the album, we see the beginnings of Nujabes’s many collaborations with Substantial, Cise Starr, Uyama Hiroto, Pase Rock and Shing02. For a debut album, Metaphorical Music is made up of great tracks, that to me, revive my love for hip-hop as an art. “Lady Brown” is explicit, but affectionate. A favorite line of mine, “God’s gift to man is you wearin’ a see-through.” “Kumomi” is misty and mixed with electronics. “Summer Gypsy” sounds like remixed elevator muzak, but instead being beat in the background, it actively takes the forefront. “Letter From Yokosuka”, similar the Samurai Champloo ending themes, has Japanese, but also, a romantic quality to it, like swans flying over the water. “Think Different”, sung by Substantial, is a clever critique of modern rap music, but its words could also be leveled against mainstream music, in general. “Think Different” says quite clearly, that the hip-hop of Nujabes won’t idolize materialism or objectify women. Instead, it’ll reach for creativity, “Put faith in myself, not the system.” Notably, the speaker never takes the moral high ground, but says that he has a different perspective on music. Also, Francis Lai’s sample gives the song a carousel quality. Another great rap is “Highs 2 Lows”, which has lines like, “I’m the original son-of-a bitch,” and “sleep is the cousin of death.” “Next View” with Uyama Hiroto transports one to the beach, and is very jazzy. The last track, “Peaceland”, always sounded strange to me, not quite peaceful, but as an experiment, it’s neat.
The first Nujabes album after his success on Samurai Champloo was Modal Soul. It is far better than Metaphorical Music, which is saying something. Much like DJ Okawari’s second album Mirror, it feels more complete and fine tuned. “Ordinary Joe”, sung by Terry Callier, is one of the stronger jazz tracks, and carries an explosive positivity. “Reflection Eternal”, a subtle piano piece, samples the song “I Miss You” by Noriko Kase (which received a dapper cover by Ayur, by the way). “Music Is Mine” shows the more celebratory and expressive tone of this album. While Metaphorical Music was an experiment in hip-hop, Modal Soul is more of an experiment in festival music. You can dance to many of the tracks. Substantial makes a return with “Eclipse”, a song for a faraway love. Their anticipated kiss is the ‘eclipse’, “your lips to mine, eclipse on the lunar.” I like the metaphor. “The Sign” reminds me of Gil-Scott Heron’s “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised.” It is an interpretive tone poem recited by Pase Rock. “Some of us do not see the signs,” he says, “because we can’t help but stop and look at the accidents and stare.” “World’s End Rhapsody” is the most fun out of all the songs on Modal Soul. Nujabes essentially took The Quadrophonics’s disco hit “Betcha If You Can Check It Out,” and added his wonderful piano along with great electronic effects. The song is endlessly repeatable. The title song “Modal Soul” is hard for me to describe. So I won’t describe it. I’ll simply say that it transports, it erases, it colors, and it remakes. “Flowers” is probably my favorite song on the album. The best part of John Hick’s “After The Morning” is repeated throughout. Hick’s piano, charged by Nujabes’s remixing, has a delicate, but broken quality. The next three tracks, “Sea of Cloud”, “Light On The Land”, and “Horizon” are like anesthesia, meant to relax the listener into a state of motionless. “Sea of Cloud” accomplishes this particularly well, and its horn, while loud, seems to add to its surreal effect as opposed to disrupting it. “Light On The Land”, with its relative quietness and cricket sounds, sounds like a whisper in the night. “Horizon” despite being the closing track, does not feel like the end, but rather, a new beginning.
Nujabes did something quite incredible with “Feather.” He sampled Yusef Lateef’s piano cover of the “Love Theme” from The Robe and turned it into a rap. The sample doesn’t even take very much from the song. Less than ten seconds. This, to me, conveys that sampling is a skillful art. Think of the days when this technique was handled by masters like Public Enemy, and not used as a cheap gimmick for Billboard sales by stale acts like Flo Rida. “Feather” has great lyrics, “Ain’t trying to be Dali when I write surreal life, I paint it vivid,” or “I got the gift of gab like them pimps in Kangol.” The words are flawlessly delivered by Cise Starr and Akin of Cyne. The lyrics are so great, because they are very poetic in their language, as well while adding literary references to Mice And Men, Flowers For Algernon, and Arrow Of God among others.
Before Nujabes’s last album, he did other many great songs in between, like “The Voice Of Autumn” and “Counting Stars.” Though, for brevity’s sake, let’s focus on “Luv(sic)”, the crowning collaboration between Nujabes and Shing02. “Luv(sic)” is divided into six parts. One of them appearing on Modal Soul and three of them completed after Nujabes died. Shing02 explained the series on his Facebook page, saying that he and Nujabes first collaborated on the work in 2000. The epic piece is a powerful rap anthem of romance, separation, discovery, and unity. Of all Nujabes’s songs, you owe it to yourself to hear this one.
Nujabes died in February of 2010 from a car crash. A promising career was cut short. Still, he had one more musical gift for the world. That album was Spiritual State. Even though Nujabes certainly may have intended to produce more albums, I can’t help but listen to Spiritual State as a sort of farewell. It opens with the song “Spiritual State.” The opening of the song is quite unique, with a consistent shaking in the background to form the tempo. This gives it the sound of a tribe from an indigenous tribe, a far cry from Nujabes’s more modern hip-hop style.”Sky Is Tumbling” is a rap by the ever dependable Cise Starr, and song even seems to know that this’ll be the last song of their relationship, “Lookin’ at the final act/ Hopin’ that we hold it dear.” “Gone Are The Days” is reminiscent of the dancing songs on Modal Soul. The album is already off to a great start. “Spiral” is a slow, cyclical march, much like Quantic’s “Time Is The Enemy.” “City Lights” is a rap that teams up Substantial and Pase Rock, which is about the urban life. Nujabes may be from Japan, but he captures the streets of America’s cities these raps. Pase Rock also pops up again in “Yes,” which is the most uplifting song on the album, “Life! Love! Dancing! No war! Stay free! We can live! Yes!” It has a tribal sort of beat like “Spiritual State” did. It is also the longest song on the album, but it does not tire. Substantial also makes his last appearance on “Waiting For The Clouds.” His poetry is poignant, “If our future’s bright then the present is overcast/ And we want it to be over fast, let’s shine.” “Color Of Autumn” is short, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t leave an impression. “Dawn On The Side” feels to me like a dream or childhood memory. The base guitar seems to insulate you, while the acoustic guitar pulls at you. “The Rainy Way Back Home” doesn’t invoke images of an grim, rainy day, but instead, glittering drizzle in the afternoon sun. If hip-hop existed in, say, the Middle Ages, one of their songs would surely sound like “Far Fowls.” “Fellows” is about as experimental and avant-garde as “Peaceland”. It regrettably ends too short, as I find it far more easy on the ears. “Prayer” is just that, a prayer. What is the prayer for? I would hope for a world as beautiful as the music of Nujabes. Longtime partner, Uyama Hiroto helps Nujabes bring Spiritual State to a finish with “Island.” I won’t elaborate on it. Come away with your own feelings.
Nujabes, to me, represents what Stanley Kubrick once said about music in an interview with Joseph Gelmis,
“…an Alabama truck driver, whose views in every other respect would be extremely narrow, is able to listen to a Beatles record on the same level of appreciation and perception as a young Cambridge intellectual, because their emotions and subconscious are far more similar than their intellects.”
Nujabes’s music incorporated all, the popular and obscure, the recent and the ancient, the instrumental and the wordy. Nujabes touched on feelings that we’ve all had. He went beyond borders and language, but like fellow producer DJ Okawari, I don’t know much of anything about him. And like fellow producer DJ Okawari, it doesn’t matter. Nujabes’ music was his life complete.
Ultimately, I cannot truly tell you in words who Nujabes is. It cannot tell you if he is hip-hop, nu-jazz, or rap. You need to experience this for yourself. It is like the musician Bill Evans once said,
“Words are the children of reason and, therefore, can’t explain it. They really can’t translate feeling because they’re not part of it. That’s why it bugs me when people try to analyze jazz as an intellectual theorem. It’s not. It’s feeling.”
Originally published at http://sansuthecat.blogspot.com on August 27, 2014.
