I first dug the Seventh House at the newly relocated Out
of the Blue Gallery in Central Square one evening this snow-dumped Winter,
after grabbing a Mark n’ Stormy at the Middle East and a bottle of Tecate at
Picante’s while my friends ate burritos. This was my 1st time @ the
new OOTB Gallery. When I walked in this guy opening was playing acoustic guitar,
corny shit n’ singin’, their audience (a bunch of 19-23 year old hippies) start
hypin’ and jumpin’ up n’ down, like some kinda kumbaya campfire sing-along on
mescaline; anyway I tried to make fun of them to my bassist but his brother
shush’ed me.
The show was pretty ill, I was definitely impressed my
first time hearing the 7th, their bassist was tight as hell, and
Mars Jupiter’s rhymes were pretty refreshing from what I’m used to hearing
around. And it was there I got the new EP limited edition cassette tape w/
hand-designed cover by visual artist Sam Billy. Although the cover itself was
dazzling with its mystical beauty, no track listing was present, either on the
cover or the tape itself. I approached Mars Jupiter at a grocery store near
where I saw them play and asked if there was any way to get a track listing but
I was mocked and turned away so the artist could continue discerning
gluten-free items to fuel his creativity.
So the album unfolds, a tapestry of chaos, live and funky
as true hip-hop should be. There is very little actual rapping on this EP;
which, in my opinion, is the way hip-hop needs to continue to evolve, to move
somewhat from the shadow of the emcee. The EP starts off with a deliberate,
heavy drumbeat, layered with tight bass and reverb-drenched guitar. Something
is happening under the surface, beneath the conscious layer of sound; this is
not a group that just tries to steal you with a club mix right up front. They
want to be sure you’re on for the ride, first.
Any
case the 2nd track gets things real live. Some kind of slow-flanging
Star-Trek Enterprise synth draws it out, before going into a funkier passage
reminiscent of early hip-hop.
“Can
you turn this down? I feel like I’m in the 80’s”, my wife tells me. That’s
true: it reminds me of Afrikaa Bambaata and Grand Master Flash’s old
instrumental jams and makes me wish I could breakdance or at least just fall on
the kitchen floor without getting all filthy.
Space is a primal element in true hip-hop, with its roots
in Jamaican dub and toasting, and its connection to early electronic music as
well. Elliot’s basslines hold things down at all times, gravity regulating
motion cyclically and thus giving birth to time: the rhythm, the beat. Some of
the vocal samples repeated with delay over the spacey beat on this 3rd
track sound kind of weak and detract from the overall vibe….like Dub without
King Tubby at the wheels….
I
like this next song with the glassy-vibraphone type sound. Reminds me of a
late-90’s type rap groove, GangStarr, Wu, Kool Keith….The programming and
drums, samples etc. is really well done. Even my wife likes this one. However,
at a certain point it loses dynamic function of the rhythm as the attack gets
muddled in a dragging beat; it doesn’t sync on the beat properly. Perhaps not
the best choice of drum samples for this drawn-out break anyway.
The fifth track is the best: the beat is hard, the sample
tight. I like the minor modality, the maraca, the slow, drawn-out guitar
someone’s playing. But of course, the bass is the center, pulsive and hypnotic.
The snare sound fits perfect and the 2 and 4 really connect viscerally. This
track really has that mood like Lee Perry or Augustus Pablo, Inner Circle or
some shit. This could be the hot jam in town this summer on humid nights fo
sho. It segues into another 90’s-style beat for a measure or two and then drops
off right back into that eerie groove.
Track Six has a tight enough beat, although after the
last track it isn’t quite as driving. The programming and the guitar are pretty
funky though, just in more of an ambient way. Overall this is a tight EP to
have on in the room while blazing up, washing the dishes, or whatever else you
like to do with the stereo on. What will get this group more exposure is
getting some more rhymes out there:
“El Mu” is the final track and the only one with lyrics,
identifying itself by association with the make-believe lost continent of
Lemuria in true white-urban-hippy fashion. My only real disappointment with the
album was not hearing all the sick rhymes Mars dropped on us at Out of the
Blue. This track is pretty dope and between me and you, the brand-new video I
peeped at an exclusive press screening this past Thursday is off-the-hook. The
idea of Lemuria is somewhat similar to Atlantis, an ancient civilization with
magic-gem-powered tech industries is virtually destroyed by flood or other
cataclysmic occurrence, dudes be hiding out underground in caves in the
American Southwest, they pop up in India and Madagascar (along with the
continent’s namesake, the Lemur) and just generally await the new age of
consciousness when we reclaim the power of the crystals or teleport to Vega or,
for more options, Google “bullshit” and contemplate the impossibilities for
hours.
I
saw them again at the Lily Pad last Full Moon. They had some new cats playing
with them this time: the keyboardist was very funky, psychedelic even with his
textures, also playing guitar on a couple #’s. The other guitarist they had was
really tight, his funk guitar got the place going and drew the beat out,
percussively interweaving Elliot’s deep basslines and the DJ’s scratching on
the turntables; although it seemed like he hadn’t been given the track listing,
either.
Recently
I had the opportunity to sit down with members of the group on their own turf,
the so-called “Seventh House” and I was flattered that they let such a
small-time journalist over the crib and I wasn’t even wearing a skirt. We were
talking about literature and Buddhism as I waited for Mars Jupiter to show up;
when he did he was excited to tell everybody about some Jamaican guy he saw at
Radio Shack. As we began the interview Mars started rolling a cigarette.
“Is
that tobacco?”, I asked.
“It
both is, and it isn’t”, was Mars’s
reply.
“Well,
can I have some?”
“Bruh,
get’cher dirty corduroys off o’ here, this isn’t a couch it’s a love seat,
there ain’t room for two pairs of tan corduroys….”
So I
took the spliff and moved away. Damn, guess cats don’t have that much love to
go around these days, don’t wanna sit on the love-seat with me, I thought this
was love. (I love the music, anyway. Isn’t that what it’s all about?) I
figured, however, the real cause of Mars asking me to move could have been that
I had spilled valerian on my pants earlier, and it still reeked. In any case, I
had no trouble maintaining journalistic lucidity, as the bud wasn’t all that
strong. I did enjoy the flavored seltzer they were serving in wine glasses,
though.
“Anyway, we’re about to rehearse for our gig tomorrow. We’re
really excited about this show: the audience is going to be educated, with a
greater maturity level than the crowds we’ve been used to so far. It’s great to
get people movin’, but when you can connect to their minds…”
“Any chance I could get the setlist for tomorrow’s show?”
“Alright, this interview’s over.”
As I walked home in the pouring rain, that beat from the
5th track just kept playing in my head.
*check out 7th House on Bandcamp (includes track listing!)
