By Steve Weinstein
By Bryan Bierman
By Lindsey Rhoades
By Chaz Kangas
By Ben Westhoff and Sarah Purkrabek
By Jena Ardell
By Jesse Sendejas Jr.
By Katherine Turman
Cases in point are a couple of outstanding mash-ups floating around cyberspace at the moment. Go Home Productions' "Making Plans For Vinyl" slaps the vocal from Tweet's recent r&b hit "Oops (Oh My)" onto instrumental backing from XTC's 1979 "Making Plans For Nigel." The Tweet original is pretty great to begin witha typically stripped-down Timbaland production with a knockout bridge that rides its two chords to the moon and back. But "Making Plans For Vinyl" is better: an equally stripped-down but swaggering piece of guitar rock that it's difficult to imagine an effete art project like XTC having anything to do with. Once you're familiar with the mash-up, though, the old XTC track is pretty hard to sit through: plodding, relentlessly asexual, with a mincing vocal, painfully fey melody, and dated dopey political lyrics. Go Home bumps the tempo up a bit, constructs a whole new high-hat pattern, holds the big guitar riff off until the chorus, and hangs onto the secondary riff even longer, turning it into a guitar solo. Brilliant moves all, but it's still Tweet's sly vocal that finally turns the corner. Negotiating between the guitar and drums, it changes a stiff beat into a woozy elastic one. If the Rolling Stones had a legit comeback single left in them, here's how it might sound.
Mash-ups are capable of magical transformations, but the most truly magical sounding one I've heard is Magic Cornflake's "Close to Women." Again, the source materials seem unlikely: vocals from Destiny's Child's 2001 hit "Independent Women, Pt. 1" over rhythm bed from "Close to Me (Closer Mix)" by the Cure. This time, both are sped up slightly, and what results is the sound of a spell being cast: an effortless groove, incantatory vocals punctuated by left-field horn and keyboard riffs, a swirling organ wrapping around like gauze. The stock arrangement of the Destiny's single bled all life from the melody, especially when the leaden minor-key chorus kicked in, focusing one's attention on the lyrics' feminist message. The Cornflake track sets up the song more effectively, revealing the melody's sharp playfulness and creating a rich tension as vocals strain against the boundaries of the short repeating chord pattern. The lyrics, meanwhile, become joyously beside the pointBeyoncé mostly seems to be speaking in tongues. As the chorus resolves, "Charlie how your angels get down like that" emerges as some wonderful euphemism from another dimension.
The original (1985) Cure track was an attempt to painstakingly build a very slow deep soul groovewhich it does finally do, just in time for the vocals to enter and capsize everything. Or, more accurately, the singing comes in and does nothing provides no focus for the track, no point to the riffing: in short, no melody. The Cure are another band I've always thought rhythmically challenged. But the mash-ups that employ their records have made me realize that the band's problem lies not in their rhythm section per se, but in Robert Smith's terminally mopey singing. If the rhythmic information contained in Beyoncé or Tweet's vocalsthe implied r&b reference points surrounding themcan have this kind of impact, then surely square singing must sabotage equally ordinary (i.e., potentially wonderful) tracks every day.