Music |
Maxinquaye
Tricky
By
Published: Jan 01, 2007
Category:
World
Maxinquaye
Tricky
Butler has proposed Les Negresses Vertes as a late-night alternative to Barry White. Fair enough. But when it comes to intimate music, everyone’s different. Odds are that, in addition to the obligatory Barry White, you have a special CD that means sexy. Maybe it’s a genuinely sexy CD, or maybe the sexiness is connected with time, place, person –– being young, in love, or falling in love with the right person, for once.
Well, I have a nomination — an artist you’ve probably never heard of. (Until recently, I was with you). I was reading The Village Voice’s annual Pazz and Jop Poll, and this CD came in #1. I regard the poll as a sort of hipness meter — if I’m listening to any of the music that appeared there, I feel cool. And on the flip side, if all these dazzling urbanites who write for music papers and music websites all vote for something I’ve never heard of, then I pay close attention, on the theory that anything these professionals like might be worth a listen.
Tricky was. And is.
Tricky’s “Maxinquaye” was released in 1995. He’s apparently an English hip-hopper who became a trip-hopper — a guy who makes moody, sensual music as heavy on beat as atmosphere. He samples, he mixes, he creates, and then, on top, he adds the sultry Martine, who sings on most of the tracks.
The album starts with “Overcome,” and it’s so sinuous, with voice, percussion, keyboards. Martine so owns this song. “Ponderosa,” the next track, complicates matters –– it’s still Martine, but now we also have Tricky, and more instruments come in, the pace picks up, more excitement.
Yes, you get it – the CD is not only about sex, it’s like sex. You expect a bit of foreplay, then the pace and level of interest/activity accelerate, then things really get rockin’ ‘n rollin’. But not quite — Tricky’s a tease.
He builds on the groove, staying slow and funky. Then, about 15-20 minutes into the CD, comes “Suffocated Love,” Tricky’s national anthem. His throaty voice, speaking, singing, strokes the words: “She’s my freak/I guess I’m weak” and “I keep her warm/but we never kiss.” Meanwhile Martine sings, alternating with Tricky, “I think ahead of you/I think instead of you/Will you spend your life with me /And die for me”?
But the words aren’t distinct. Is it “stifle me,” not “die for me”? After all, the song title is “Suffocated Love,” so “stifle me” seems right. Either way, you can get the same suffocated, co-dependent idea — if, that is, you’re listening to the words at all.
I don’t know if genre means much to anyone these days. My daughter, the college student and indie girl (goes to Regina Spektor and Jenny Lewis shows), says not, at least not since Jack Black’s Tenacious D invented “folk metal”. In this case, “trip hop” delivers rap without the yelling, a notch down on the misogyny and the swearing.
Whatever it’s called, I’m listening to it now, just melting away inside the sound. Remembering all the hundreds of times I’ve listened to this CD, especially that time I seduced my wife, the beautiful Pam, with “Maxinquaye”. Well, maybe it wasn’t just Tricky and Martine, maybe it was chemistry, destiny or love –– but Tricky was definitely on! And “Maxinquaye” remains one of our faves.
Think I’ll put it on tonight.
Guest Butler Brendan Pieters teaches English at Santa Fe Community College in Gainesville, Florida.
— To buy “Maxinquaye” from Amazon.com, click here.
