Blog entry: Hindsight 10/’06
The Case for Phonte Coleman
“…and Greensboro/ cause that’s the only borough I’m from/ I’m everything you wanna be/ but have yet to become”
- Phonte (Little Brother)
from “The Becoming” off the album The Minstrel Show
On a particularly brisk autumn evening in Greensboro, NC, I made a trip across a small overpass to find to a club practically underneath the bridge (I can’t remember the name of this joint. An unfortunate by product of hindsight blog entries…and heavy alcohol consumption. Clear perspective, but foggy details). I was kickin’ it tough in ‘The Boro’, performing The Old Settler (a beautiful piece written by John Henry Redwood) at Triad Stage (a ne plus ultra of regional theatres. Check ‘em out when your in that area). You know me, making friends (and enemies) wherever I go.
I stopped by the fabulous costume designer, Kelsey and her roommate Drew’s place first. Mainly in the hope of rallyin’ some troupes for what i expected to be a good show. A couple bourbons and a few beers later, i was not successful. However, i did receive an invitation back to there place after the show. I guess the only thing better than sharing the experience of being at a slammin’ show with someone, is bragging how much they f*ckin’ missed out afterward. Especially if the show was bangin’! And I was sincerely hoping to do just that.
So I walked my inebriated ass across this bridge: basically a 4 lane highway, doing my best not to get pegged on this slightly damp night. That would be just what I need…to be left for dead in a hit and run as I try to make a rendezvous with indie hip-hop. Maybe they would do a benefit concert for me if they found out later that I was on the way to their show.
Anyway, I get up to the door. The marques top billing was Little Brother, the highly lauded hip-hop trio from Durham, Norf Cacalack that impressed industry heads, purist and novices alike (no small feat) with their debut The Listening in 2003. It was as if A Tribe Called Quest (with whom they are aptly compared to all the time) had all relocated to the south (Phife was already there: “…everybody knows I go to Georgia often/Got on flight and I ended up in Boston…”) after the Midnight Marauders LP and took Jay Dee (J Dilla, R.I.P.) with them. Hibernated. Strengthened their drums (their samples were already mean) and didn’t get too concerned with the hip-hop indie scene of the mid 90’s (read: rawkus records). LB (Little Brother…ya big dummy), likes to down play the Tribe comparison but…whatever.
I’m not sayin’ that Tribe’s whole introduction to keyboards and synth on the Beats, Rhymes, and Life LP was not important. In fact, I think it was instrumental to everything that J Dilla and Q-Tip did together and individually for the entire following decade. I’m just sayin’, for my $11 dollars (remember when we used to line up at the doors of Tower Records to be the first to get our hands on a bangin’ new ‘on sale’ rap record?), there was nothing like that sound they introduced on Marauders (and kinda on Low End Theory) that was so steeped in old school references and history, but complete to the future with it sound and aesthetic. Its was forward thinking music. But the kinda music that enabled everyone to enjoy something about ‘the future’ (WU-Tang did the same thing. But differently).
But…I digress (I’ve been listening to a lot of Tribe recently…obviously). Little Brother was the reason why I came. They possessed many of the things that I truly love about hip-hop (except their lack of audacious flare and showy creativity. They’re much more understated compared to other mainstream talents) The things I fixated on when I first, truly feel in love with it. Punch-you-in-the-neck drums, subtle yet melodic samples, stick to your ribs lyricism, burn your lips hooks, and the type of musicianship that only can be obtained by being a true fan/student of music. Their opening act was supposedly their crew Justus League. However, I wouldn’t know if they sucked or not. When I stepped into the joint, LB was in full swing. They already looked as though they had been on stage for an hour, sweating like Icelanders in the Caribbean. I asked, and apparently I didn’t miss more than 15 minutes. However, the wizard of the sound production was absent. 9th Wonder was nowhere to be found that evening. (Very telling, cause I don’t think 9th is with the group anymore).
It’s funny how your physical preconceptions of a performer can be so off when you finally see them in there stage element. I useta have a cockamamie theory that all our favorite rappers were short dudes cause they were tryin’ to make up for the fact they lacked height in stature (Buckshot, GURU, Black Thought, Eminem, T.I., Phife Dawg, Short Dogg, Bushwick Bill, etc). My perceptions of Big Pooh was indeed correct. He was Big and looked like a fuckin’ Pooh…bear. But he was short. Phonte stood only a few inches taller. But more than this physical expectation being crushed, there was a question of their energy on stage. To listen to Phonte Coleman on record - the soul-penetrating and (in my opinion) extremely underrated lead emcee of the group - his greatest strength is his reign over his language. He has such a rock-steady hand on his rhymes, you often times forget that he is rippin’ it (delivery-wise or lyrically). This control of his flow is both his greatest strength and sometimes his evil step-brother. Because he anchors the beats so damn well, you inevitably start to miss the spontaneity of the that supersedes soul music (which is indeed what he makes, very well).
However, on this night, imagine my shock to see a disheveled looking cat in a sweaty ball cap and a t-shirt w/ the collar already stretched too wide (no doubt, do to the sweat), yelling half of every one of his lines while his entire camp on stage…and the entire audience, finished every single line for him. The last time I saw anyone get away with doing so little of there own rhyming was seeing Big Pun (R.I.P.) back in ‘96 and R. Kelly (perv) in ‘04.
Phon-Tigallo, who fancies himself a the truest of true school emcees, did not seem to mind that he never actually said any of the rhyming words at the end of his cadences. And strangely enough…neither did we. The guy looked as giddy as a school girl at homecoming who was dating (read: banging) the starting quarterback (this show actually was a homecoming, of sorts, for the group).
They still rocked it. Or we rocked it. Or…the point is, it was a great show! There couldn’t have been more than 250 folk in the place and they tore it down like it was new years rockin’ eve w/ Dick Clarks ol’ grecian formula ass.
The highlights: when they broke into a rather tight pseudo-Jackson Five era routine for the entire first verse and chorus of “Slow It Down”. Likewise, the second knighting came when he went into his final verse for that same song (the realest rhyme he’s ever wrote) and every single person with balls knew every single word of that verse and spit it right back at him. And when I say everyone with balls, I mean everyone with balls. Every dude in the place yelled it out like they had written that shit themselves. And perhaps that phenomenon is do to the fact that every guy who’s ever been in a real relationship knows the sentiment and feeling behind every connected word of that poetry. And if they had the ability to connect and hurl lyrics so in touch with oneself, as Phonte Coleman is so gifted to possess, they would have written that verse themselves We all identify with it.
“Sometimes I feel I’m from another world/ when i’m tryin’ to tell a girl just exactly where I stand at/ I want a girl when i want a girl/ and when i don’t want a girl/ i want a girl who understands that/ And that’s some hard shit to explain/ to a woman that’s in love with you/ It’s a pitiful thing/ And so I had to figure that i don’t wanna settle down/ but I don’t wanna play around/ and that’s a mans dilemma…”
I’ve even recited that rhyme to my dudes whenever we’ve found ourselves choppin’ it up about the women we lust for, and want to love, but hate to love, and want to strangle, but can’t live without. Which we do talk about quite often. And inevitably, my dudes have understood the message. Why?…because it’s truth. The hardest and most elusive of qualities in ones work. Even the greatest artist have struggled decades to maintain or obtain consistent truth in their art.
Which brings me to the summation of this ramble…the thing that makes Phonte Coleman (and Little Brother, by extension) such a potentially groundbreaking and extraordinary emcee/group is his capacity to truly not separate himself/themselves from the rest of us, their listeners. Even the most humble of rap or rock legends is a demi-God in mortals clothing. They possess a genius that the rest of us can only stand next to. Biggie Smalls was said to be the most genuinely heartwarming mahf*cka you would ever come across. And he was, without question, a man of the people. He would have made a great senator one day. Yet and still, every emcee…scratch that…every lover of hip-hop, will have to contend with his legacy for the rest of our days. Like Jay-Z’s self proclamation, Notorious B.I.G. was a true GOD MC (but even HOVito, has been showing signs of the weaknesses of us mere mortals lately).
Phonte is no GOD MC. By any stretch of the imagination. He’s no Busta Bus. Certainly no Dre 3 Stacks. He’s no G. Rap, no Bun B., no Nas Esco, no Almighty Kane or even Common (during Com’s non-”star child” moments). He doesn’t parade unparalleled verbal dexterity like say, Twista, Slim Shady, or Bone Thugs. He doesn’t revel in regional sound and pride like, David Banner or Petey Pablo. His personality on record isn’t larger than his music like Snoop, Jeezy, Kanye (sometimes), or Lil’ Weezy. If Phonte was a tree and was hacked down in a forest, but no one was there to hear it, that nigga would still probably make a sound(you get my point yet)!
Phonte is wonderfully and extraordinarily…well, ordinary. And that fact alone may prospectively make him one of the best. You believe his ass when he says he’s had a hard day and can’t deal with his wife and havin’ trouble payin’ the car note that month. Likewise you believe his tales of glory, because we’ve all had our rock star moments in life (some of us more than others). But, it’s the way he tells us that does it for us. He truly echoes the common joe. And this ain’t on some ol’ “he keepin’ it the realest” kinda sh*t. My point is, his echo of our voices sounds much iller than we expected to hear when the sound bounced back to us. Consistently.
Obviously, the dude has a ways to go before we can pin him with the purple heart of hip-hop. But, do yourselves the favor of ‘hearing’ The Listening (Little Brother), Connected (The Foreign Exchange), most of The Minstrel Show (Little Brother) and “Backstage Girl”, a record he did with DJ Shadow on Shadow’s latest album, The Outsider. And LB got a new LP coming out on October 23 called Get Back. We’ll see about this one…
…Just a thought I thought I’d share wit y’all
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