Welcome Mats by Specs, 1998 Soul Purpose Records
“My mission is to make hip hop perpetuate.” - Specs
The algorithm showed up in the summer of 2022 with this comfy, full-grain cognac leather recliner of a boom bap track: Welcome Mats by Specs. Twenty-four years after its release, I felt its laid-back tempo, 90s-meets-60s intro, fun punchlines, and the message about staying focused on my own work despite distractions. And in a polished and perfected digital-to-AI age it was good hearing details like the vocalist’s breath control at 02:42—hearing the very life bringing this track forth for me to enjoy and be motivated by.
I searched and couldn’t find any other Specs tracks except the B-side, Put Ya Money On Us, great in its own right. Nothing else under producer John Allie either, and just a handful of odd releases on the label, Soul Purpose Records. And most of the hits from my search for The Shelter recording studio were social service agencies. Had this person been affiliated with Gang Starr or D-Nice? Would I find his name in liner notes as a contributor or on an old event flyer? What could have led him to stop creating? I wanted to know more.
… bars conceived from a place and time within another person’s psyche travel through the headphones to someplace inside me.
Considering the source—who and what is behind a track or album; imagining what the artist’s state of mind and life circumstances might have been when creating it; and listening for the story, with or without an explicit narrative—is how I connect more deeply with the music. And the light and shadow elements in underground hip hop draw me in close. For all its bravado, there is genuineness and practical wisdom to it, and it’s a great emotional outlet. Welcome Mats sits toward one end of the spectrum, but the more darkly paved tracks can be a path toward light too. My sometimes-binary thinking accounts for part of my attraction to that interplay, and my predominantly nonlinear thinking finds clarity in its forthrightness. Contrast is among the most powerful elements in art. It helps me see.
Listening to Tha Soloist bring forth Frozen, including its outro in the words of Antwone Fisher, brings the light and shadow paradox vividly to life. In the quiet of the morning as I work on this essay, bars conceived from a place and time within another person’s psyche travel through the headphones to someplace inside me, and the manifestation in this listener—though I’d heard the track a few times before—is reverent (maybe stunned) silence…and sadness:
Frozen by Filthy Heir, 2023 Tha Soloist x A Dusty Cinema
[Update: the Frozen single is no longer available on YouTube, but please listen to it on the full EP, The Fall of Winter, 05:54]
The Fall of Winter EP by Filthy Heir, 2023 Tha Soloist x A Dusty Cinema
You could draw structural and thematic lines between Welcome Mats and Frozen—audible breath control, the pull back to the lab, dedication. But Specs’s wordplay and full-bodied boom bap sound offer a wide-angle, day-in-the-life view, while Tha Soloist allows the listener to zoom in close on an inner life. Both approaches are of value, each providing illumination from within shadows of differing intensity.
Frozen’s raw authenticity makes it easy to consider the source behind the track in the most intimate and contemplative way—really to see all artists everywhere sacrificing and struggling to sustain and maintain while dedicating their lives fully to their calling. The track invited me to bear witness and at the same time left me asking that the universe remove any blinders from me. It left me looking at the ways I can be frozen and how writing helps me thaw.
From an arguably simpler time, Welcome Mats imparts discernment and judicious attention. Who’s that guy to him—that guy whipping up the block could siphon time and energy otherwise spent creating. All those guys cruising up the block he never felt love from anyway. So, “right now, it’s back to the lab”. It generated resolve in me.
“I talk about the deep, I’m the ocean, they’re in floods.” - Tha Soloist
Listening carefully, I had an uneasy feeling that maybe I’d been wrong to presume underground’s industry playing field is more level. Maybe Specs disappeared from the radar because he couldn’t make a living in spite of his talent. I would hope that Tha Soloist lives in abundance, given the uncompromising expression of his gifts. But it seems clear that underground artists are too often undervalued and overlooked.
Both tracks embody the contrast-rich light-shadow paradox in underground hip hop that makes it easier for me to see, relate to, and be curious about the artists behind them. Both demonstrate intentionality and the reflective tendencies of this subgenre. Both exemplify how hip hop keeps me going back to my own work again and again, despite myriad opportunities and impulses to squander in the attention economy we live in. And both invite me to look at my role as a listener in making hip hop perpetuate.
Stand Out of Our Light: Freedom and Resistance in the Attention Economy, James Williams, 2018 Cambridge University Press
“Absolutely unmixed attention is prayer.” - Simone Weil
In his book Stand Out of Our Light: Freedom and Resistance in the Attention Economy1, former Google advertising strategist James Williams unpacks the greater meaning of paying attention and its role in counteracting threats that the “intelligent, industrialized persuasion of the attention economy” pose to the individual and collective will2. From his unique vantage point, he brings to light the competition for my attention as platforms strive to maximize the amount of time spent online, and how technology’s goals for me differ from my own. He highlights the fact that my immediate attention is undermined when otherwise helpful technologies fail me, such as tailored content like Welcome Mats leading to another hour of suggested videos, from a compelling Tony Sirco interview to the Britney Spears Inside Barbie’s Dreamhouse: Skipper SNL skit.
Here was the real knock-out in the book: that we pay attention with the lives we might have lived.3 I am beyond grateful for any technology that allows me to engage with others whose work I find meaningful and to share my own work. But spending time and attention on meaningless things at the expense of a life lived with intention is a tragic price I am not willing to pay anymore. Before the attention economy exploded, Specs recognizes and resists that guy vying for his attention. He sees the guy, acknowledges the guy. But instead of paying attention with the life he might have lived by engaging the guy, he stays true to his work. I intend to maintain that sense of purpose.
“I’ll see you, but right now it’s back to the lab.” - Specs
Williams outlines three types of attention: spotlight, starlight, and daylight. Spotlight attention allows me to type this sentence right now. Starlight attention gives me the ability to set medium term objectives, like finishing and publishing this essay to move LIINES forward. Daylight attention harnesses my values and metacognition in figuring out what direction I want to take my writing and video editing, and staying aware of why I am doing it in the first place.
In Cultural Hustlers, Jay NiCE tells of the real meaning that drives his hard-won success. Listen for the light and shadow paradox at work not only lyrically but in the production: The track had me surrender to the melody and lyrics and be caught off guard by the outro a lot like Dave Brubeck’s Take Five lulled me during the lake house Monopoly game in The Sopranos Season 6, Episode 13 (watch below).4
Cultural Hustlers from Rise & Shine by Jay NiCE, 2023 Harun, LLC / Dough Networkz
Cultural Hustlers’s elements of contrast exemplify the expanded application of attention so inherent in underground hip hop production, transmitted directly to me as a listener. The spotlight is on when I’m drawn to a track or an album—I’m present, doing what I want to do in the moment. The starlight of attention takes over as I fill my notebook with journal ideas that flood me during a hip hop broadcast—I am non-negotiably who I want to be. Daylight attention comes as I apply these ideas to written or video compositions—self-directed: wanting what I want to want.
As I listen to hip hop and interviews and attend live shows, I can get a vivid sense of artists’ or producers’ spotlight focus, which energizes me, like a feedback loop. Their starlight focus as new releases come out or new projects are undertaken keeps me accountable to my own projects. And I feel the impact of their daylight focus as I relate the content of their work to my life, my work, or the wider world.
But the attention economy was a thing before the term was even coined—since at least the midcentury Mad Men era—and it isn’t going away. Its persuasion reaches artists’ lives on the ground whether or not a more level industry playing field is a reality. In Rent Due, ILLPO tells their experience of realizing what truly matters, coping amidst cycles of elite and street, and the dues people pay regardless:
Rent Due from BRITA by ILLPO, 2023 Nazar Wonder / EFFELDUB
In an October post, emcee Pawz One urged fellow musicians to think carefully when setting prices, asserting that the average fan doesn’t care if artists make any money on Spotify, make any new music, or even stop making music. He captioned his love to the fans who do support, affording him the ability to keep creating in an oversaturated business:
Pawz One on the loyalty of the average Spotify fan, October 10, 2023, @Pawz1 Instagram
This scroll-halting post, amidst related ones from Snoop Dogg, Ice-T, and others, brought a flood of thoughts. Pawz One’s solution is reasonable. What might be done to educate apathetic streamers? Having a day job in the not-for-profit sector, I’m clear on the importance of giving back—especially to hip hop which gives me so much and which I hold sacred. I don’t always know how best to support it, but one reason for launching LIINES was so that I could gain insights into things that matter to me. I hope that by outlining my experiences as a listener, I’ll come away with more clarity.
Hip hop has never had problems calling attention to itself, but I can’t always see artists among so much information and content. I’m a naturally curious person, but social media diversions and oversaturation increase the odds I’ll miss releases or announcements. I am grateful to those who consistently spotlight their own and others’ work.
I believe there are illuminators and diminishers in each of us, and hip hop channels both the light and dark tendencies that exist in every human … it has the grace to accommodate all of me. It is a fully accepting entity.
Shows like Hip Hop Stacks are indispensable. For two hours every week, they spotlight the work of underground boom bap artists I wouldn’t otherwise know how to find. And producer albums like Tone Spliff’s Work Ethics 2: All Work, No Play include stellar lineups of artists like Benny Slumz, Freddie Black, Vic Monroe, Edo.G, and many others he’s collaborated with on separate projects. These formats centralize new releases and rare cuts so that I don’t have to divide my attention among an infinite number of sources. As with a favorite film director, I trust his producer’s ear to bring us the best of the best.
Work Ethics 2: All Work, No Play by Tone Spliff, 2023 Mind Write Music
My intro to Freddie Black came from the powerful opener on Work Ethics 2. Last month, he released the single Close The Market with Tash, producer SpliftOut, and cuts by Tone Spliff. The video, with OGs Fat Albert and Dumb Donald playing the parts of Freddie and Tash, is a brilliant example of spotlighting a new release by mixing new sounds with nostalgic images. The track’s refrain about commanding attention wasn’t lost on me—it’s a pleasure spending mine on these artists. The ominous beat, agile lyricism, vocal contrast between the emcees, selective double-track vocals, energetic cuts, and beloved cartoon imagery together are a very unique illustration of underground’s light and shadow interplay.
Close The Market by Freddie Black x Tash, 2023 prod. SpliftOut, ed. MIDIchlorian, cuts Tone Spliff
Interviews are another valuable source of context for listening to an artist’s work. Learning about their backgrounds, influences, motivations, production techniques, ambitions, and professional and personal challenges creates a more vibrant connection—when I hear things that I can relate to or interesting perspectives or new ideas, of course I’ll gravitate to that person’s work. And interviewers tend to close by having the artist tell us where to find them and what projects we can look forward to.
Taking things to the next level, emcee Gel Roc and DJ JahBluez cohosted a live discourse series after the release of their album Poetry of War. Featuring one track per week, contributors to the album joined the discussion, and listeners could post questions and comments. It was fascinating hearing about their processes and histories, individually and together, and to be able to ask questions.
Talib Kweli’s recent post directed fans to his own website and bandcamp instead of lining the pockets of streaming executives. There’s a nebulous feel to streaming, which I guess comes from growing up with the tactile sense of LPs and cassettes. I purchase downloads, but the staggering Spotify stats in black and white reinforced my intention to support musicians directly whenever available.
Talib Kweli on conscious purchasing, December 2, 2023, @talibkweli Instagram
Activism is another powerful element in hip hop that makes me take note. From Talib Kweli’s uncompromising outspokenness to the peaceful power of Myka 9 to those integrating consciousness into sets or projects or entire bodies of work, with wars raging on around the world it feels more empowering allocating resources to artists with visions for change.
In a recent New York Times article,5 political commentator and columnist David Brooks expressed that in any group there are illuminators and diminishers. Illuminators, he says, are curious about people and willing to consider points of view different from their own; they show respect and make others uplift. Diminishers, on the other hand, think primarily of themselves, leaving others feeling insignificant around them; they conceptualize others based on very limited information.
I believe there are illuminators and diminishers in each of us, and hip hop channels both the light and dark tendencies that exist in every human. That is what I love about it. That’s why for me hip hop represents life—because it has the grace to accommodate all of me. It is a fully accepting entity. The beauty of hip hop is that the diminishing can be channeled into and through the music. The light can be, too. I see it all throughout the underground.
It makes me think of another kind of attention that writer and journalist Johann Hari added to the three from Williams: stadium light attention, or the ability to see one another6. I think the qualities of visibility and insight inherent in hip hop, along with its intelligent industriousness, will help it prevail despite the attention economy’s persuasion.
I’ll leave the closing words to Edo.G:
Paid (Always Get) from WE DO.GOOD by Edo.G, 2023 5th & Union
Music source: @hiphopstacks
Stand Out of Our Light: Freedom and Resistance in the Attention Economy is an open access book you can download for free at Cambridge.org.
Williams, James. “Clicks Against Humanity.” Chapter. In Stand Out of Our Light: Freedom and Resistance in the Attention Economy, 48. Cambridge, United Kingdom: Cambridge University Press, 2018.
Williams, James. “The Citizen Is the Product.” Chapter. In Stand Out of Our Light: Freedom and Resistance in the Attention Economy, 45. Cambridge, United Kingdom: Cambridge University Press, 2018.
The Sopranos Season 6 Episode 13. YouTube. Channel: Tony Soprano, clip published 2014.
Brooks, David. “The Essential Skills for Being Human.” The New York Times, October 19, 2023, sec. Opinion.
Hari, Johann. Stolen focus: Why you can’t pay attention--and how to think deeply again. New York: Crown, 2023.
THIS MONTH’S UNDERSCORE:
Saba the Godis, December 22, 2023, @saba_the_godis Instagram
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