List of greatness in rap verses

1. Common Sense “Resipiration” on Mos Def and Talib Kweli are Blackstar

Common is currently having fun, and myself and many others feel he has lost himself. He was one of the few rappers whose work got progressively internal, culminating with “Electric Circus”. That album had a musical continuity in ambiance, and in terms of music, it reached beyond the usually accepted rap templates. It is criticized and commended for that, and it is also sometimes deemed experimental by naive writers. Well, it certainly is experimental if you look at it historically within rap music, but musically it is a sign that Common was growing into a serious being, choosing to not be tainted by the governing hedonistic mentality of rap music, and seeing himself as part of a larger musical whole.

It didn’t last too long unfortunately. It ended precisely when he met Kanye West. Kanye is a master at crafting a harmonious hip hop sound that has a universal musicality to it. That’s why he crosses over, and he is probably the most musically accomplished rap artist in pop music currently. His rapping is something along the same lines, musical, outgoing, and convivial.

But Common as a rapper is the opposite. His strength is his writing. So his rhythm is not as musical as Kanye’s. He is rigid, rapid, and that gives him a quick, short breath, rhythm. He sometimes compensates for the lack of musicality in delivery by writing multysilabic rhymes (see “Ressurection”). But predominantly, you went to him because he was one of the few to whom writing was a problem, something that had to be solved with intelligence.

But listening to “Be” (which was produced by Kanye), you can only hear a man keeping up. He is literally keeping up with the beat, keeping up with the general hedonistic attitude, keeping up with the times. He is suddenly Madonna, and lost, for now.

But I want to go back to something good. This following verse matters because almost no other rapper (maybe Sage Francis) has a writerly mind as intricate as his–with good understanding of poetic allusions and how to use that to punctuate the rap verse. He repeatedly wrote this kind of quality material throughout the late nineties, and even had a modest hit song with ‘Remindin’ Me of Sef’. That was a song about celebrating, which made it seem like it was about partying, but it celebrated death, life, and loss, mostly through a series of internal recalled personal rememberances. It is sweet in what it is, personal, and significant because rap has so few designs which graze the essential soul of all art.

But really, back to this. It is about returning to a city and entering it through the funeral of a friend, going back home, but to death, to a sad state. The return home is equalled to the return into self, but a deeper self, with alarming observations, and the feeling of an overpowering helplesness. Listen here, verse starts at 3:59

Yo…on The Amen corner I stood lookin at my former hood
Felt his spirit in the wind, knew my friend was gone for good
Threw dirt on the casket, the hurt, I couldn’t mask it
Mixin down emotions, struggle I hadn’t mastered
I coreograph seven steps to heaven^[1]
And hell, waiting to exhale and make the bread leavened
Veteran of a cold war^[2] It’s Chica-I-go for
What I know or, what’s known
So some days I take the bus home, just to touch home
From the crib I spend months gone
Sat by the window with a clutched dome listenin to shorties cuss long
Young girls with weak minds, but they butt strong
Tried to call, or at least beep the Lord, but didn’t have a touch-tone
It’s a dog-eat-dog world, you gotta mush on
Some of this land I must own
Outta the city, they want us gone
Tearin down the ‘jects creatin plush homes
My circumstance is between Cabrini^[3] and Love Jones ^[4]
Surrounded by hate, yet I love home
Ask my God how he thought travellin the world sound
Found it hard to imagine he hadn’t been past downtown
It’s deep, I heard the city breathe in its sleep
A reality I touch, but for me it’s hard to keep
Deep, I heard my man breathe in his sleep
A reality I touch, but for me it’s hard to keep

[1] Miles Davis’ Seven Steps to Heaven, a play on words generating an image of helplesness (?)
[2] Another play on words (how can one be a veteran of a war that had no direct military engagement?), another image of helplesness, futility.
[3] Cabrini is a housings project in Chicago that was neglected by the city and torn down. More info.
[4] The movie, about the romance between a Chicago poet and a photographer.

2. Jay-Z “Snoopy Track” on Life and Times of S.Carter Vol.3

It is the nature of rap songs that each verse can be singled out, the unified nature of the song is generally broad, specially when it comes to this type of songs conceived as placeholders for ‘braggin’ rhymes.

In this one, the bragging is about the fulfillment of sexual desire: the constancy of female presence, and this constancy as a value of pride and credibility. The creativity is in giving the impression of a seemingly respectful stance towards women, annotated by a luxurious care towards them. Polygamy is thrown in there at the end in a particularly creative line that relies on the strong contrast of having “a main chick, a mistress, and a young bitch”, of course the sleight of hand is the assonance.

This is for my chicks that get dough for takin off they clothes
All them money makin honeys that slide down the poles
All my educated chicks whose grade is 4.0
All the baby mamas across the globe; ayo!
I like my women friends feminine
I like my hoes on “X” like Eminem
I like em bow-legged, never coke-headed
With a dough fetish, the drive to go get it
I like they toes proper, I like they clothes Prada
I like they shoes Gucci, I like new coochie
I fucked a few groupies, in a few hoopties
I got em iceberg shit they thought I knew Snoopy ^[1]
I cop them Roc-a-Wear, my mamis dedicated
They never tell me no, the most they said is “not here”
I got they ears studded, both wrists baguetted ^[2]
I got a main chick, a mistress, and a young bitch
Forget it I’m the Don ^[3]

[1] This is a reference to clothing line Iceberg which bears Snoopy the Peanuts character on its sweaters)
[2] Something often done in rap, using a noun as a verb. For instance, “to wear ice” with ‘ice’ meaning diamond jewlery, could be worded as “I got iced (or iced-down)”.
[3] The creativity here is in the nonchanlance detectable in the inflection…The skill in rap is also in conveying personality through attitude. A lot of skills are judged on the dynamics between what the words intend and how it is conveyed through the enunciation.

List of songs that made an impression on first listen (to re-visit for confirmation)

1. Kool G Rap - “Blowin’ Up In The World” (off “4, 5, 6″ the 1995 album)
2. The Dears - “Warm and Sunny Days” (off “No Cities Left”)
3. Matt Elliott - “The Guilty Party”

List of fake rumours

1. Before throwing himself out of the window of his apartment, philosopher Gilles Deleuze left a suicide note with a list of his ten favorite novels. Topping the list was Albert Camus’ The Fall.

2. Roland Barthes was run over by a truck.

3. Martin Heidegger’s mustache is an attempt to look like Edgar Allen Poe. Ginsberg’s beard is an attempt to look like Walt Whitman.

4. When Bob Dylan and John Lennon met they discussed sunglasses. You can see this in the outtakes of Robert Frank’s documentary “Eat The Document”.

5. When Binoche first worked with Kieslowski she couldn’t help but laugh at the mole between his eyebrows.

6. Olivier Assayas courted Maggie Cheung by showing her his 35MM print of Bergman’s Persona.

7. Wong Kar-Wai beats his wife and kids.

8. Tom Waits rarely has sex with his wife anymore. They have a platonic marriage.

9. Local artist Jean Leloup is my neighbor.

10. David Bowie is going through a spiritual crisis. He has considered Mormonism lately. The Mormon prophet has speculated he would welcome the celebrity singer into his religion anytime. He added that the song “Starman” on the Ziggy Stardust album is a spiritual work of great importance.

11. The Wu-Tang Clan long-delayed reunion album is not determined to see the light of day anytime soon pending the release of a compromising autobiography from low-profile member U-God whose book apparently airs out dirty details of homosexual rapports between some of the members of the group.

12. According to archivists, Georges Bataille is the first man to have conducted phone sex in the country of France.

13. A lot of women delay their desire to have kids by owning a pet or two. Most women veterinarians are said to be sterile.

14. On a sunny day Kafka went to the beach with his uncle. This is when he met Milena and began writing her letters. One day, on his way to post one of the letters, he got hit by a car. The driver was Karl Benz testing out his prototype of what would become the first Mercedez automobile. Kafka died shortly after this accident which worsened his tuberculosis.

15. It is no secret that all American Apparel models have sex with the photographer after the shoot.

16. Vice Magazine owner Todd McInnes has an Austrian grandmother who was a member of The Young Hitlerians.

17. Harmony Korine has grown to enjoy the taste of dog cookies.

A comment on intro/extravertion

Pour ma part, je déteste sortir de chez moi, à moins que ce soit pour une session de photothérapie (vitamine d), une sortie au cinéma ou au club video, ou pour aller me chercher de la bouffe. J’ai pourtant des habiletés sociales développées. Je connais la rhétorique du bavardage! Je m’amuse souvent à l’employer pour dévoiler ses paradoxes! Je me crois un grand farceur. Un homme de lettres aux élans éloquents! Mais je reste à l’écoute, disponible, spectateur. Je m’intéresse aux gens et aux choses. Je m’intéresse à leur réthorique de conversation! Leurs opinions empruntées! À leur façon maladroite d’éviter de dévoiler l’incomfort de leurs émotions! Leurs déductions faciles, leurs impressions prévisibles, leur sens de l’humour peu développé…

Parfois je rencontre un être si supérieur aux autres qu’il m’intéresse immédiatement. J’essaie de sonder son âme en questionnant ses hésitations, en basculant dans l’opposition de ses propos, en lui demandant quel livre lit-il présentement!

Mais comme disait Camus, si je jouait au tennis tous le jours, je serais un champion. Si cela me tentais, je pourrais m’inclure. J’ai parfois tendance à paraître sociable, communautaire, mais je finis toujours à l’écart, sans faute. Je me nourris abondamment dans ma solitude, je ferais un très mauvais chef d’équipe, nous tournerions tous en rond dans de petites pièces, pensant inutilement à rien. J’angoisse énormément avant de placer une virgule. Je questionne sa nécessité. La ponctuation est une de mes grandes anxiétés. Pourtant lorsque je parle, je beugle. J’oscille constamment entre deux pôles: ce dialogue intérieur qui me remplit, et cette décharge vulgaire de moi-même précédant le creux effroyable qui me ramène à la solitude.

List of paintings to become real scenes in films

1. Degas - “Absinthe”

A Léos Carax Address

Texte de Léos Carax, pour la rétrospective à la Cinémathèque française :

AU VIEUX PALAIS

Une rétrospective au Palais de Langlois, c’est beau (et un peu triste aussi, comme tout ce qu’on regarde dans un miroir).

Comment se fait-il que des gens aussi jeunes que nous aient déjà 40 ans?

Une rétrospective de quatre films, c’est terriblement court. Au fond, je n’aurai pas vécu une vie de cinéaste. Seulement celle d’un homme à qui il est arrivé quelques fois de faire des films. Pourquoi? Une Muse très putain, qui s’éclipse dès qu’elle peut… du mal à trouver des êtres que je veuille filmer… des vagues de dégoût… de grandes déceptions (de soi, de pas mal d’autres)… et puis Poisons! Cendres! Nuit! Confusion chaotique!

L’ARGENT

J’aurais tout de même pu, je pense, faire deux ou trois films de plus. Mais mes rapports avec la finance n’ont pas été bons. Je n’ai pas été rentable à courts termes, et dans ce cas, mieux vaut savoir se faire discret (pas trop cher; humble); et je n’ai pas su. Je ne suis pas le premier cinéaste cher non rentable. Mais il se pourrait que j’ai été un des derniers.

Alain Dahan, le co-producteur de mes premiers films, me manque. C’était un juif à barbe noire, exécrable et irrésistible. Il n’était pas riche du tout hélas, mais il avait une redoutable folie. Cette folie (de la dépense ou de l’économie, qu’importe), j’ai toujours pensé qu’elle était indispensable au cinéma (car comme disait à peu près Louis-Ferdinand Céline, “Il faut bien un certain délire au moment du coït pour faire un enfant”). Mais où est-elle donc passée? Qui est là pour reprendre l’injonction de Jean Cocteau, “À l’impossible on est tenu!”?

LUEUR ET JOIE

Les films qui savent où ils vont n’arrivent nulle part. Faire du cinéma n’est pas jouer à la dînette (même si la plupart des réalisateurs ne font que ça). Il ne s’agit pas de dessiner de nouveaux habits, de nouvelles maisons, de nouveaux flingues pour nos poupées; ni d’injecter de la psychologie dans leurs crânes creux en plastique. Il ne s’agit pas de s’arranger pour que l’eau coule vraiment du faux robinet de la fausse cuisine. Il faut au contraire tout foutre à terre, tout ce qui est déjà construit. Partir du chaos en soi et alentour, et chercher dans le noir une lueur nouvelle, s’avancer pas à pas vers cette lueur dont on n’est jamais sûr qu’elle ne soit pas un mirage (mais mieux vaut encore découvrir un mirage que fixer un néon). Marcher vers cette lueur est une expérience.

J’ai eu une vraie chance dans ma vie : rencontrer tôt quelques complices intimes avec lesquels partager cette expérience. Je leur doit tant. Ensuite il y a eu des morts, des divorces. Faire un film “seul” est possible, mais ça enlève de la joie. Et moi je veux la joie (le beurre, l’argent du beurre, et le sourire de la Joconde).

L’ILE AUX MILLE TRÉSORS

Lorsque j’ai décidé vers mes treize ans de changer de nom, je ne m’intéressais pas encore au cinéma. Mais je craignais que rien de ce que la vie aurait à offrir ne me contenterait. C’est un peu plus tard que j’ai réellement saisit que derrière un film, il y avait un homme. Et que cet homme habitait une île. Une île jeune, avec bien des recoins encore inexplorés, mais déjà pourvue d’un vaste et beau cimetière. J’avais enfin trouvé mon pays.

Mes deux premiers films ont voulu fêter ce pays qui semblait m’adopter (ou que je squattais?) et ses pionniers . Et puis, comme Groucho qui ne voulait surtout pas appartenir à un club qui l’accepterait comme membre, j’ai fuit la petite île, devenu trop étouffante. Ça a donné un film, Les Amants du Pont-Neuf, qui croyait repartir de zéro!

Les Amants du Pont-Neuf ont cassé ma vie en deux (certains diront que je l’ai cassée tout seul; ils n’ont pas tout à fait tort, mais ils sont loin d’avoir tout à fait raison). Deux sentiments étaient comme les deux clés de la partition de ce film : le sentiment de l’irrémédiable et le sentiment de l’inespéré.

Après un arrêt forcé de sept ans, je réalisai pour la première fois un film adapté d’un roman. “Pola X” est mon premier film classique (d’un classicisme que j’espère inventé). Je veux dire, ma première tentative d’affronter frontalement un récit (un récit qui aurait pu exister –qui a existé– sans le cinéma). Ça a été mon échec le plus franc; mon meilleur travail aussi je crois.

LE SOLEIL DES MORTS

Mais à relire ce qui précède, j’ai un peu le sentiment d’avoir rédigé là ma propre nécrologie. (Et sur l’urne qui contiendra mes cendres, que soit inscrit : “J’ai enfin arrêté de fumer. Adieu et merci aux aimés”) Or, je suis tout à fait vivant (me paraît-t-il à l’instant). La preuve, c’est que je n’arrive pas à financer mon nouveau projet, “Scars” (surnommé “Guerre et Châtiment”). Oui, je suis vivant en cet automne 2004, et il fait moche dans mon pays riche. Mes films? Ils vivent aussi (dans l’espace et le temps). Est-ce que j’espère leur postérité? Oui hélas, je compte bien sur cette chienne. J’aimerais pouvoir être aussi sûr que Nicolas Vassiliévitch Gogol: “Je sais qu’après moi, mon nom sera plus heureux que moi-même”.

En attendant je suis, oui, heureux de montrer ici mes films, à l’ombre de quelques autres bien plus beaux –de ceux qui nous aident à traverser, à vif mais vaillants, les mirages de la vie.

An important question (about narrative)

What is it that you hope to accomplish?
I want to be a full being. At the moment, I am still empty, I have nothing in me. I am formless and I wander around with my pet peeves and the constancy of annoyance. I am very uncomfortable with myself and it’s clear that I make others uncomfortable when I am around them.

Why do you say that you’re empty? What does it take to be full?
Well, to become a full being, you need to have weaved stories. I haven’t weaved any stories yet. Ever since I immersed myself into art, real art, in 2002, four years ago, I’ve only viewed, barely touched, some tools that are used to weave stories. I haven’t weaved one proper story yet. I have only ‘tested’ some tools recently, but it has been merely experimental, without any strong sense of goal and direction.

Once you have weaved several stories, that is when you will begin to be a full being. You will feel that the stories you have weaved have installed themselves within you, and this is the filling process, where you are becoming full. You need to have several stories within you in order to have good balance. And by stories, I mean narrative stories, with an end, a beginning, and a middle.

You see, what stories do, is that they are complete, so they make you feel complete. When you write a story, you are building your life, you are building your self, you are reaching for balance. A lot of the neuroticness you go through early in life needs a counterweight as you grow older. The stories you weave serve as counterweight.