Sa-Ra: Smells like postmodern funk

The Hollywood Recordings represent new black movement

Movements, particularly those of the musical kind, escape easy classification. It’s like trying to bottle lightning. So it’s slightly inaccurate to lump half a decade of alternative black sounds, styles and provocations into a singular trend called future soul, nu soul or even the widely discredited neo-soul.

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Yes, it’s all black music, but much of it is linked by a sensibility: slick computer funk that hearkens toward George Clinton, early Prince and early techno à la Juan Atkins; stylized song-speak vocals that verbally illustrate high fashion; and rugged, arrhythmic hip-hop beats, the legacy of the Neptunes and the late James “J-Dilla” Yancey. Indeed, more than a year after Yancey’s tragic death in February 2006, it feels as if his influence is everywhere. A spate of his superior works – from the instrumental album Donuts (released a mere seven days before his demise); to the posthumous unfinished album The Shining; and, earlier this April, a reissue of Ruff Draft – have maintained an angelic presence over beat-driven music.

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Most of this activity lies outside of mainstream pop or even major-label-issued products, with the exception of the Roots. Forever tagged as a jazz/hip-hop group, thanks to the classic 1995 breakthrough Do You Want More?!!!??!, the Roots have since traveled into deeper and more challenging realms. Released last August, Game Theory incorporated random bits of noise and turntable distractions, and was a dark and paranoid piece. Naturally, it concluded with a tribute to J-Dilla.

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Sa-Ra Creative Partners’ newly released The Hollywood Recordings features the “thrilla” Dilla, too. But it also feels like a postscript to a blowup that didn’t happen. Some will argue that a prime moment in this as-yet-untitled movement arrived in early 2005, via excellent debuts by Platinum Pied Pipers (Triple P), J*Davey (The Beauty in Distortion bootleg), Plant Life (2004’s The Return of Jack Splash), Georgia Anne Muldrow (2004’s Worthnothings EP), and Amp Fiddler (2004’s Waltz of a Ghetto Fly). Past black funk glories inspired new energies: Amp once played on Prince and George Clinton’s “We Can Funk” – the watermark amid Prince’s Graffiti Bridge decline. And the pre-Gnarls Barkley Cee-Lo plotted a new group (sadly unrealized) with the titular Jack Splash.

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Still, everyone sweated Sa-Ra as the new shit, the group that would bring this new vibe to mass consciousness. It didn’t happen. Sa-Ra signed to Kanye West’s G.O.O.D. Music imprint in 2005, and G.O.O.D. lost its distribution deal with Sony Music last year, depending on which Internet rumor you believe. So instead of mind-fucking suburban teens on MTV, Sa-Ra’s once highly touted debut now arrives on rap indie Babygrande more than a year behind schedule.

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But if you don’t care if your music is trendy enough to be deemed “important” by Idolator, then you’ll dig Sa-Ra. And don’t get it twisted, backpackers: This ain’t some conscious nuts-and-berries shit. The trio asks if you can be their “Bitch” and throws down hammers (i.e., metaphorical guns) with Capone-N-Noreaga on “Not on Our Level.” (What’s the most overused phrase of 2007? “It’s me, bitches!”)

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Played-out popisms nestled with avant-garde sonic trickery makes Sa-Ra intellectually provocative, like that scene in Purple Rain where Morris Day throws a girl in a Dumpster. It’s like, hey, is misogyny really a part of it? (Apparently it is.) The Hollywood Recordings may function best as a representative piece from Sa-Ra, though, rather than a full-fledged suite. The songs float all over the place with no concept or storyline, subliminal or literal, to tie them together. Some of the tracks (“Ladies Sing” and “Hey Love”) sway and stomp with the grace of the Ohio Players horn section. Others, particularly “Sweet Sour You,” feel as heavy and portentous as a Parliament B-side.

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Other recent excellent adventures include Flying Lotus’ 1983 (instrumental glitch-hop worthy of Adult Swim); anything by Madlib (dank-influenced Prince Paul beats); Dudley Perkins’ Expressions (2012 a.u.) (soothsayer song-raps produced by the ubiquitous Madlib); Kudu’s Death of the Party (irreverent punky funk party jams), and on and on. This list is not exhaustive.