March 18-24, 2004

cover story

Building Walls

RJD2 needs more money and power and less shit from you people.

by Andrew Parks

Aside from some shows and a few mentions in the local press, you’d never know RJD2 is a local. It’s true. He moved from Columbus, Ohio, to West Philadelphia in September 2002, with his girlfriend, mini-studio and massive record collection.

Anonymity is fine with him. "I just want to be able to get a bagel and not get into a conversation about music," he explains while sipping a cup of tea at Greenline Cafe and talking about music.

As relaxed as he appears this February afternoon, RJ has a new record coming out in May. Only a month has passed since he turned in the final mix of Since We Last Spoke (Definitive Jux). Soon he'll be flying to Europe to humor hype-raking journalists once again.

"The underground's Neptunes," "the Glenn Gould of the sampler," and, yes, "a student in DJ Shadow's collagist classroom" -- Ramble Jon Krohn became all these things after releasing his 2002 Def Jux debut, Dead Ringer. Mounting media attention and peer praise caused a domino effect of remix offers: the trip-hop of Massive Attack, orchestral pop of The Polyphonic Spree and dreamscape rock of Elbow.

With success came expectation, and with expectation came the need to create something challenging. At least that was RJ's plan, back when the LP held the title I Need More Money and Power and Less Shit From You People.

"Initially, I set out to make a reactionary record, but I realized four or five songs in that your average listener doesn't fucking care," he says, smiling. "People would rather hear a good record than a different record. The way Public Enemy, OutKast or The Beatles progressed is really what's important to me."

Strong words, but this is a different record. Sure, choice sampling and an air of melancholy remain at the core. But tracks lack a theme overall. It's as if RJ headed into the studio with categorized crates of records: one labeled "vintage soul," another "obscure garage rock," a third "dusty breakbeats" and so on, right through to "cold German techno."

RJ says his progression is drawn partly from early-'80s records, the ones free of analog synths and aerosol hairspray. The claim is glaringly apparent on "Through the Walls," a pleasing mix of new wave and arena rock that RJ calls his version of The Cars.

At first, the song sounds simple enough for a Warrant cover band to learn in an afternoon. That is, until RJ explains that it took a year and a half. More than six months went into sequencing the samples.

"Other than the vocal and one sound [a whammy-bar section of a vintage synthesizer], the entire song is programmed note for note," he explains. "Every sample was deconstructed down to eighth notes and then put back together. The guitar solo is literally chopped up and played back."

RJ found that guitar solo "somewhere in the desert" in 2002, during the "Revenge of the Robots" tour. Like most DJs, he's shady about the sound's origin. First, it's from "an early-'80s rock band," then it's a band "only locals would recognize," and finally it's from a compilation record of Southwest rock groups. The rest of the song's 25 samples shed their sources slowly as well. Those pounding drums? They're from a Procol Harum break with a "loud-ass cowbell."

"I was really trying to stick to the era -- poppy, rocky records between '80 and '83," he says with a smirk. He adds, "Because of the limitations, there were a lot of things I tried that just weren't working."

This meant every sound had to be percussive, or as RJ translates it: "whole-note, spaced-out tone-type shit just wasn't appropriate. It would clash." The song's embryonic sample, that desert rock guitar line, actually became its centerpiece. RJ broke the 140-BPM passage into four sections of chords, and then tried to work them into a hip-hop tempo. The "uphill battle" didn't last long.

"Before this record, I would write with your average hip-hop listener in mind," he says. "Eventually, I said, "Fuck it,' and threw that out the window."

Years of producing hip-hop tracks for the Columbus crew MHz, Soul Position and his fellow "Jukies" on the Def Jux label have clearly taken their toll on the soft-spoken producer. Like fellow studio rat Madlib, RJ isn't content with constraints.

"I could remix a bullshit rap song at 91 beats per minute, but who fucking cares?" he says, laughing. "I'm lucky to be in a situation where I can do whatever the fuck I want."

Apparently that includes recording his own voice. RJ spent months talking to three different singers about vocals to add to the finished "Through the Walls" instrumental track. When it started to look like scheduling would keep the song off the album entirely, he decided to do the vocals himself.

(Interestingly, the record's press release mentions a very special guest. "At first I was going to lie about me singing on the record," he says. "I thought it'd be corny, like, "Hey, this guy thinks he's fucking Fred Astaire."')

RJ also lends his voice to three other songs on the record: the harmonizing on the title track; the wailing Cher vocoder on "Exotic Talk;" and the tender reading of "Making Days Longer." The lyrics? RJ as well, although he's quick to criticize the lyric "Girl I know you won't come back" of "Through the Walls."

"To be honest, I didn't give a fuck about the lyrics," he says. "They came last. I cared about the beat first."

Well, then. Once a DJ, always a DJ.

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