G. Love and Special Sauce to serve up a treat at ND
By TIM BODONY
Scene Music Critic
The novelty of commending a band or performer that blends seemingly disparate styles has worn off by now. Such a process is practically as old as music itself. A truly unique artist nowadays would be one that is easily classifiable, drawing influence solely from one genre, and never leaving the confines of that genre in his or her own music.
G. Love and Special Sauce is not one of these artists, yet the Philadelphia band still manages to forge its own distinct sound that is ultimately greater than the sum of its parts.
G. Love has made his affinity for cooking well known in tasty songs like "Recipe", "Cold Beverage" and "Baby's Got Sauce." He has even produced a 30 minute instructional video called "Cookin' with G.," which follows Chef G. through the entire culinary process, from the shopping to the desert.
And now he is ready to serve up "The Electric Mile," the latest creation of his other kitchen, the recording studio. As usual, G. Love and Special Sauce throw all sorts of ingredients into their pot: rap, reggae, rock, blues and more, producing a robust and booty-shaking concoction in which no one ingredient predominates over the others.
Like most entrees, the flavor of this band comes from the sauce — the Special Sauce that is. Consisting of Jimi Jazz Prescott on the upright bass and Jeff "The Houseman" Clemens on drums, Special Sauce drives the music from beneath.
On each of the band's five major label releases, Prescott and Clemens have consistently put forth the type of subtle rhythmic maneuvers that make jazz freaks scream with ecstasy. On stage, they command less attention than their more picturesque and flamboyant front man, but their ability to lay down one thick groove after another is undeniable.
One certainly cannot overlook the contributions of G. Love when trying to dissect the band's distinct sound. His guitar playing is noticeably street-schooled, where chord charts are discarded in favor of trial and error methods of moving fingers around the fretboard until it sounds good. His vocal stylings, all too reminiscent of Fenster in "The Usual Suspects," are fluid and seductive, if not totally comprehensible.
Regarding the band's discography, it would appear at first glance that G. Love has gone through a gradual process of maturation. Eight years ago he pronounced himself "the Kool-Aid Kid" who must have his beverages refrigerated before he consumes them. He proceeded to tackle larger issues on 1997's "Yeah It's That Easy," including a tribute to a fallen Philadelphia police officer. On 1999's "Phila-delphonic," G. Love ventured into the realm of spirituality, pulling quotes from Baird T. Spalding's "Life and Teaching of The Masters of the Far East" in the song "Numbers." But truthfully, G. Love has always put forth both silliness and seriousness in his songs, a point he makes quite adamantly.
"I've always written all those types of songs, and some of my earliest songs have had an important social message," insisted G. Love in a recent phone interview. "Some of the first songs I ever wrote, like "This Ain't Living" and "Eyes Have Miles" [both from the 1994 self-titled debut record], have dealt with serious issues. When people tell me that my music has gotten more mature, I always say that I write songs about my life, which is everything from God to just hanging out."
The Electric Mile follows this rule completely.
G. Love again displays his passion for interracial understandings in songs such as "Unified," "Praise Up" and "Free At Last." But a dose of realism has now tempered G. Love's predominantly optimistic view on the prospects for unity.
In "Unified," he concedes that "It would be so nice, but the world's not ready," given that the powers-that-be "Don't want it in their government/ they don't want it in their poli-tricks." With an unstoppable up-tempo reggae beat propelling it along, the song still manages to inspire more dancing than pondering.
G. Love displays his passions for women in almost equal proportions; this is how a man named Garret Dutton earns the title of G. Love. The love flows freely on "Sarah's Song," a countrified back porch ode to pastoral and feminine beauty featuring some inspired harmonica playing from G. Love, and on the following track, "100 Magic Rings."
But to make The Electric Mile's most memorable musical and lyrical statement, "Parasite," G. Love shifts into his street preacher mode. On top of a low-fi hip-hop beat, G. Love graphically conveys the view from the bottom, picking up right where "This Ain't Living" left off. In that song, guest rapper Jasper lamented: "Once I start gaining, the taxes start taking/ 'cause the government's perfected funk fakin'." Now Jasper, entering the mix with a line from Bob Marley's "Burnin' and Lootin'," is back to report that nothing has changed.
"It was just time," G. Love said about the decision to record with Jasper again. "He has such a vocal presence, and he totally took the song to another level."
He says the same thing about John Medeski, who contributed keyboard parts to about half of the songs on Electric Mile. His presence helps to give the album a spacier and more layered feel than any of the band's previous recordings, in which studio production had never been a particular priority. The more polished production and engineering on "Philadelphonic" and "The Electric Mile" is something of which G. Love is proud.
"I was listening to some of our previous records the other day," he said, "and I realized how far we've come in terms of production. Coast to Coast Motel [the band's second album] had no production, which was a mistake. Yeah, It's That Easy was not well produced, but Philadelphonic had production coming together more."
G. Love credits live sound technician Chris DiBeneditto with helping the band get all the sounds they wanted, which on Electric Miles ranges from trippy guitar and synth effects to crystal-clear drums and bass.
"But ultimately," G. Love admits, "no one has been able to figure out how to produce us but us. We're the ones that have to do it."
The presence of new material inevitably begs the question of how to treat the classic older tracks that have become cult favorites. G. Love was characteristically cool when asked if he would rather push newer material as his trademark, to avoid being known simply as "the guy that did `Cold Beverage' and `Baby's Got Sauce'."
"I feel the newest stuff the most," he admitted, "but we play songs from all our records. We realize that `Cold Beverage' and `Sauce' are really popular, but we still don't play those songs every night. You got to mix it up."
And of course, a conversation with G. Love about an upcoming concert at Notre Dame would not be complete without some discussion about basketball.
"I'm sorry about the NCAA," he said at the beginning of the interview, obviously referring to men's team second round exit. "We have a pool going on the tour bus, and I picked Notre Dame to do exactly what they did. But I forgot that I had picked Ole Miss, so I was still cheering for you guys during the game."
To thank him for the love, be sure to catch G. Love and Special Sauce this Friday at Stepan.
To learn more about G Love and Special Sauce, check out its Web site at www.philadelphonic.com.
All Scene Stories for Tuesday, March 27, 2001
