Eddie Rockerz VibeZ

Nineteen records from the guitarist who wrote the rhythm part that half of modern pop is still trying to copy. Nile Rodgers Nile Rodgers and Bernard Edwards formed the most efficient hit factory of the late seventies and then, unusually, kept going. Their working method as the Chic Organization was unlike anyone else's: they wrote, produced, arranged and played the records themselves, treating each act they took on as a separate creative brief rather than a chance to repeat the formula. Rodgers' guitar style is the most imitated element — that clipped, percussive chord figure he calls chucking, played high on the neck with almost no sustain, functioning as a rhythm instrument rather than a lead one. It works because it leaves a hole exactly where Edwards' bass wants to be. Then came the second career. When disco collapsed and the Chic name became commercially toxic, Rodgers reinvented himself as a producer for hire and made career-defining records for artis...

Seventeen tracks from the producer who built the sound of SOLAR Records — and, through it, a large part of what the early eighties sounded like on the radio. Leon Sylvers III Leon Sylvers III came out of a family act. The Sylvers were a large, talented Memphis-born family group whose hits he wrote and played on, and his younger brother Foster Sylvers had a hit of his own as a child. Where he mattered most, though, was as the in-house producer at SOLAR — Dick Griffey's Sound of Los Angeles Records — where between roughly 1979 and 1984 he was responsible for an extraordinary run of records by The Whispers, Shalamar, Dynasty and Carrie Lucas. His signature is instantly identifiable once you know it: a hard, clipped synthesised bass, bright keyboard stabs, handclaps on the backbeat, and an arrangement that keeps the midrange almost empty so the vocal sits forward. It is one of the most heavily sampled sounds in hip-hop, precisely because there is so much ro...

Sixty-six records for the hours after midnight, sequenced by someone who understands that the point of a late-night set is patience. Til The Break Of Dawn Jamz Vol. 1 The quiet-storm set is one of the hardest formats to get right, because the failure mode is so obvious: string enough slow songs together and you produce wallpaper. What keeps this one alive across sixty-six tracks is that it refuses to stay in one decade, and it keeps changing the kind of intimacy on offer. There are seventies Philadelphia ballads next to 2020 R&B, smooth jazz instrumentals next to neo-soul, and the transitions work because the sequencing is matching feel rather than tempo or era. What to listen for The Isley Brothers' "Don't Say Goodnight" in both parts is the centrepiece of the older material — eight minutes of Ernie Isley's guitar and Ronald's falsetto that essentially defines the format. Maxwell's "This Woman's Work" is the bravest inc...

Thirty-eight tracks from the volume where the series deliberately wanders off the map — alternative soul, left-field R&B, and a few things that defy the label entirely. Chilled Soul 22: Mo' Alt Shit The subtitle is doing real work here. Most volumes in this series stay within a recognisable soul tradition; this one goes looking for the edges, and the result is the most unpredictable set in the run. The organising idea seems to be texture rather than genre: everything here has a certain haze to it, a preference for atmosphere over impact, and a willingness to let a song end without resolving. That lets Nina Simone sit next to Steve Lacy without either sounding out of place. What to listen for Nina Simone's "Baltimore" is the boldest inclusion. It is a Randy Newman song, recorded in 1978 in a reggae-inflected arrangement Simone reportedly disliked, and it is extraordinary — one of the saddest vocal performances in her catalogue. Steve Lacy's ...

Fifteen tracks from a preacher's son who made one of the best R&B debuts of the 2010s and then took his time about everything that followed. Ro James Ronnie James Tucker was born on a United States military base in Germany and raised largely in the church — his father was a minister — which is the standard biography for a soul singer except that in his case the tension between those two facts is audible in the music. His records are explicitly, unapologetically sensual, and they are also structured like gospel: call and response, sustained builds, the voice cracking at the top of a phrase rather than gliding. He sounds like someone who learned to sing in a place where the subject matter was different but the technique was identical. What kept him from a bigger career is probably the pacing — long gaps between albums, and no interest in chasing whatever the radio was doing. What it produced instead is a catalogue with almost no filler. What to listen f...

Seventeen tracks from a songwriter, poet and multi-instrumentalist whose records sound like nothing else coming out of Atlanta.   Mereba Mereba is the most quietly impressive member of Spillage Village , the Atlanta collective that also produced EARTHGANG, JID and 6LACK. She is Ethiopian-American, grew up partly in the American South and partly abroad, and came to music through poetry — which is obvious in the writing and unusual in the genre. She plays guitar and produces, and the records are built accordingly: acoustic figures under programmed drums, folk phrasing over hip-hop rhythm, and a voice that stays low and conversational where most singers would push. The result sits somewhere between neo-soul, folk and rap without belonging to any of them. What to listen for "Black Truck" is the signature, and the extended version here is the one to hear — a song that manages to be about leaving, driving, and self-possession all at once, over almost noth...

Fifty-one records from the production duo who made hip-hop commercially unstoppable and got criticised for it for twenty years. Trackmasters (Poke & Tone) Jean-Claude "Poke" Olivier and Samuel "Tone" Barnes are among the most consequential producers in hip-hop and among the least celebrated, for one reason: they were unembarrassed about making hits. Their method was straightforward and enormously effective. Take a recognisable pop or soul record, keep enough of it that a listener recognises the melody within two bars, add a hard New York drum programme, and put a great rapper over the top. Purists called it selling out. It also took the music from a specialist audience to the centre of American pop, and the records themselves are far better made than the criticism allows. What to listen for The Notorious B.I.G.'s "Juicy" is the argument-ending track. Built on Mtume's "Juicy Fruit" , it is simultaneously one of th...