Cutting Room Jams: Oakland Notes
Three fall tales from the Town: a Saafir homage, a political track by Naru Kwina, and Inkburner's drum-machine art.
Well, it’s been an interesting year. In some ways, it’s been one of frustration, not only for sociopolitical reasons, but also because I simply didn’t get enough writing done. Numerous projects I prepared, researched, and had on deck fell by the wayside, including this newsletter.
Normally, I would take this time to share my favorite releases of 2024. Instead, I’d like to offer a few small pieces I planned for last month but, for various reasons, I didn’t complete until now.
RIP Saafir
Saafir, who passed away on November 19, was a pivotal figure in the rap underground. In 1993, he made a brief but memorable appearance as “Harold,” the cousin of lead actor Tyrin Turner’s character “Caine,” in the Hughes Brothers’ movie Menace II Society. Demo tapes he made with his Hobo Junction crew were coveted among locals. He was an unusual artist who code-switched between membership in Digital Underground’s funk army, the scrappy graff-writing community, and the Bay Area adventurists pushing freestyle lyricism to its outer limits, and far past what was commercially marketable.
I remember buying Saafir’s 1994 debut, Boxcar Sessions, on the strength of “Light Sleeper,” an otherworldly daydream about insecurity and transforming yourself through art. One of his lines, “I’m a light sleepin’ rapper in a hearse,” has echoed in my brain for decades. 1994 may have been a year when rappers learned to unburden themselves through melancholic introspection, with 2Pac’s “Pain,” Nas’ “The World Is Yours,” The Notorious B.I.G.’s “Everyday Struggle” and “Suicidal Thoughts,” and Common’s “Book of Life” as evidence. (Of course, all follow in the tradition of Geto Boys’ “Mind Playing Tricks on Me.”) Within that context, “Light Sleeper” stood out as a particularly grimy immersion into one’s own neuroses.
Boxcar Sessions is a snapshot of a lost era: hopping freight trains for kicks, couch surfing for sleep, puffing “dirt weed,” and spending afternoons writing in notepads while your homie makes pause-tape loops to spit on. It’s packed with revelatory skits, including one where the late Mike “Dream” Francisco shouts out other graff writers across the country. Throughout, Saafir’s unusual way of stopping and starting his flow within stanzas sounds like a rhythmic revelation. But the album’s worst track, “Worship the ‘D’,” still sounds unbearably cruel, even to a listener who has grudgingly accepted that sexual aggression in rap culture is inescapable.
It seems like anyone who spent time in Bay Area rap circles in the 1990s and 2000s has a Saafir story. When I called him in early 2000 on assignment for CDNow, he spent nearly a half hour yelling at me. He ranted about the music industry, complained about how Qwest Records barely promoted his new album The Hit List, and seemed to struggle with the prospect of slipping into career obsolescence. When I tried to bring up the Hieroglyphics vs. Hobo Junction battle, he angrily dismissed it, hinting that the bruised feelings surrounding that legendary event hadn’t yet subsided. (Saafir made amends with Hiero many years ago.)
The Saafir interview is reminiscent of a few occasions where someone is so worked up that all I can do is let the person vent. (A similar event that comes to mind was when Russell Simmons called me after the 2004 presidential election to rant about the Democratic Party.)
In retrospect, Saafir was lucky that Qwest put out The Hit List at all. Countless rap albums were shelved in the late 90s and beyond as major labels shifted to a big-budget, platinum-or-bust mindset. Bay Area rap was in a creative malaise, with its mobb music heyday of RBL Posse and Richie Rich in the rearview mirror, and the hyphy renaissance of Keak Da Sneak and Mac Dre in the near future. Perhaps inspired by his success producing The Whoridas’ “Shot Callin’ & Big Ballin” (under the alias Merg-1), Saafir tried to craft a “crawl before you ball” funk sound on The Hit List that was less compelling than the cryptic and fascinating boom-bap of Boxcar Sessions.
Nevertheless, I’ll never forget how Saafir represented surly, uncompromising hip-hop integrity, no matter how complex his reality actually was – spending part of his teen years as an unhoused person, and struggling with physical ailments throughout his adult life, with his final years in a wheelchair. He remains the Saucee Nomad, slanging tapes and breaking down verses into microfragments.
Saafir: Favorites
He may be a self-styled baller on his new album, but at home Saafir is more likely to put on a jazz CD than the latest rap album. In fact, a Jimmy Smith song inspired the name of his clique, Hobo Junction. “I don’t listen to hip-hop, dog. Hip-hop is wack!” says the incendiary rapper, who nevertheless admits to liking Jay-Z and Pharaohe Monch’s recent efforts. Saafir refused to list his top ten jazz records (“They’re all great,” he says), but agreed to pick 10 of his favorite artists.
Charlie Parker – “Charlie Parker plays like somebody who’s been through a war. He’s real moody. He’s real dramatic, but smooth, like Chow Yun-Fat on the sax.”
Andrew Hill – “You have to really be into jazz to know about this cat. He’s a piano player, but he’s just the way he plays…he’s real moody and graphic, he draws pictures with his music.”
Lennie Tristano – “Ray Charles got his style from him. He’s phenomenal. He had a style about how he played the piano…it looked like his hands were gliding [over the keys].”
Charlie Mingus – “He was a cello and piano player. That’s my favorite, actually. I like the moods he creates.”
Yusef Lateef – “He’s, like, real complex. He’s complex, but he flows. When he blows in his sax, it’s like a robin flying by.”
Thelonious Monk – “He’s insane. Thelonious Monk is pure emotion. His style is sporadic, but real mathematical.”
Miles Davis – “[I’m drawn to] the depth of [his music]. His mind is like a planet and his horn is like a mountain on a planet, like, the highest elevation.”
Nina Simone – “Real moody, sad and dark. She’s just all pain.”
Isaac Hayes – “I grew up on Isaac. He’s just pure soul.”
John Coltrane – “He plays from the soul. He plays like he feels. There’s no set pattern to his shit.”
Naru Kwina’s “Dear America”
I met Naru Kwina in the process of reporting a story on early Bay Area rap for KQED last year. On October 30, he sent me a link for his new video, “Dear America.” It’s a collaboration with his daughter Najorae, who sings backing vocals, as well as musicians Ricardo Love and K.E. Dorham from Black Nova. The track ends with commentary by Houston activist Tamani Mwandani.
While listening to “Dear America,” one bar jumped out: “We too comfortable, but we must revolt/No faith in the system so we don’t vote.” Intrigued, I asked him about it.
I caught the line about not voting. Can you explain that a bit? I know a lot of people don’t vote in the community.
The line is no faith in the system, so we don’t vote. A lot of people in the community believe that their votes don’t really count. And that no matter who is in office this capitalistic system will still remain intact which only works with the permanent underclass. So a lot of people believe the only way to change things is a complete dismantling of the system.
What about the idea that voting helps mitigate worst-case scenarios similar to what we’re facing now?
It only places a Band-Aid on a gaping wound. Real things like reparations are not being addressed in the serious manner. The school to prison pipeline still exists. Privatized prisons still exist, high rent, high insurance and affordable housing and low minimum wage still exist no matter who’s in office. I’m definitely not telling people not to vote. I was just stating a fact from my conversations with many people in the community. But when you are an outnumbered minority, even if we all voted together as a group which will never happen because we’re not monolithic, we would still be outvoted by the majority. … And I’m speaking from a black man’s perspective.
Jeff “Inkburner” Wareham
On November 9, I attended an art show for Jeff “Inkburner” Wareham at B League in Berkeley cosponsored by Synth News, a creative venture founded by musician Jason Stinnett. I’ve known Stinnett since we ran the streets together in Sacramento. He’s been involved in a lot of projects since relocating to the Bay Area in the late 90s, including the bass group Hottub.
I also reconnected with Wareham, whom I first met when we both worked at the San Francisco Bay Guardian (and both got laid off in 2001 after the dotcom crash). He then found success on the festival circuit with The Flying Skulls, a group that emerged as part of the lazer bass and chiptune wave of the late Aughts. After the show, he agreed to share some pieces here and answer a few questions.
What materials do you use to make your drawings?
My paintings of classic synths and drum machines are pencil with brush and acrylic. My screen prints are plastisol printed on archival paper.
Why do you focus on sampling keyboards?
During my 25 years in the music industry I’ve always loved being around classic and rare synthesizers and drum machines! I did a photography series called Gear Porn, which were luscious pictures of mixers, drum machines, and synths. Special gear that has a place in history deserves to be coveted and drooled over! I tried to carry that atheistic over to the paintings, just honoring unique pieces that people have an emotional attachment to. I also make screen prints featuring the Bay Area, East Bay, Rhinos, 1970 Challengers.
Do you personally own these instruments? Or do they just inspire you?
I do own some of the instruments! The AKAI S-20 was my first drum machine, and the custom Porsche yellow MPC1000 is the box I perform with on tour. There are some pieces that were modeled on actual equipment that I used in my career, the VS-800, Little Phatty. The rest are definitely inspiration and chart the lineage of some of my favorite types of gear, like drum machines tracing from the LinnDrum and S-20 to the MPC2000, and then the MPC1000 and MPC2500. They are all related!
Did you sell any illustrations during the gallery opening?
I was lucky enough to sell 11 pieces at the B League show! There was almost a bidding war for the Roland-TR 808 and the Little Phatty paintings. There was a bid for the VS-880 from Nantucket Island, so I just shipped that one off! Was a great show, I was so happy to hear Jel from Anticon do an MPC set, dude killed it! Big thanks to Synth News for sponsoring.
Finally, what's the current status of the Flying Skulls? Any music on the way?
The Flying Skulls always have something in the works! We had a blast playing Cascade Equinox near Bend in Sept. We rocked a full reunion with original members Ribotto and Jerome Forney joining! Look for another show next year!!! Kyle Capricorn is trying to rope me into a podcast, so we’ll see where that goes!
