Groove Music: The Art and Culture of the Hip-Hop DJ
Northeastern University (US)
I knew something had shifted significantly the first time I noticed someone playing air turntables. It was around 1989; after a generation of seeing individuals playing air guitar, sweeping their arms in a windmill motion a la Pete Townsend or twiddling their fingers as if producing an elaborate arpeggio, it was slightly jolting to witness the hunched body language of the DJ. As one hand floated level, backspinning an imaginary disc on an invisible turntable, the other hand executed tight side-to-side motions on an unseen crossfader. That the individual was mimicking the moves of a scratch DJ was without question.
Mark Katz provides a beautifully written account of the DJ’s evolution in Groove Music: The Art and Culture of the Hip-Hop DJ that is sure to stand as the go-to text for anyone seeking knowledge about the who, what, when, where, why and how of DJ culture. Apart from Katz’s expertise in the study of music and technology, what makes this such an enjoyable and ultimately useful book is his proficiency as a storyteller. He establishes a perfect narrative tone encompassing elements of a nerdy gearhead, an awe-struck fan-boy, a competent DJ, a quizzical scholar, a slightly skeptical curmudgeon, and an astute music journalist. Rather than producing a flawed unevenness, these multiple perspectives reflect the intricate history and evolution of DJ culture while simultaneously allowing Katz to emphasize diverse themes across cultural domains.
Katz focuses explicitly on the “hip-hop DJ.” As he explains, there are a variety of modes within which DJs work (e.g. club or EDM DJs) but not all of these involve hip-hop and not all of them embrace the crucial facets of compositional creativity, battle, and performance that are essential to hip-hop’s DJ practices. For the hip-hop cognoscenti this might seem obvious, but this book is oriented toward a wider audience and Katz should be applauded for his capacity to present consistently compelling material that won’t alienate readers of expert or minimal knowledge.
Defining his project, Katz writes, “The purpose of this book is to chronicle and investigate the rise of a new type of musician—the DJ—who developed a new musical instrument—the turntable—and in doing so helped create a new type of music: hip-hop” (6). Indeed, discovery and innovation—the “new” at the core of his mission statement—are on display throughout the book as Katz’s analytical gaze encompasses technologies and artistic technique, sonic construction and aesthetics, and the formation of social and industrial infrastructures that enabled DJs to find their footing as party rockers and to evolve as iconic figures and even celebrities on a gradually expanding scale.
The book is organized chronologically, delineating developmental and transitional phases and isolating the temporal modalities within which the formal characteristics of the hip-hop DJ evolved. Some of the DJ history that Katz opens with is already well documented, with details about the socio-economic environment of the South Bronx in the 1970s and early 1980s or oral accounts of the rise of key figures such as Kool Herc, Afrika Bambaataa, Grandmaster Flash or Grandwizzard Theodore circulating widely in publications and on the internet. Despite the historical reiteration, however, the effort is not wasted. Rather, in order for Katz to fully engage the evolutionary process he must revisit these particular narratives in order to impress upon the reader the incremental, accumulative progression of the art of the hip-hop DJ. His particular contributions to our understanding of the process lie in the refutation of romanticized notions of youth resistance that continue to permeate many mainstream and scholarly histories of hip-hop as well as his emphasis on the “hustle” which includes an unflagging creative striving coupled with a markedly capitalist entrepreneurial bent. Like much of hip-hop, the art of the DJ evolved within a sophisticated commercial context that gradually expanded to include a range of participants such as nightclub promoters, paying customers, record labels and audio technology manufacturers.
Moreover, this is not a straight retelling of the DJ’s evolution that maintains an unbroken linear flow. Throughout the book Katz pauses to remind the reader of previously cited incidents, returning to established individuals or events with additional information and greater nuance. The themes of technology, race and ethnicity, the rise of the DJ battle and other factors constitute the grooves that Katz is working with. In much the same way that hip-hop DJs produce different experiences of listening to, say, a classic James Brown or Curtis Mayfield track (or, as he describes in Chapter 3, the phrase “Ah, this stuff is really fresh” from the 1982 track “Change the Beat” by BeSide and Fab Five Freddy) by chopping it up on the turntables, Katz produces narrative loops, dropping back into the groove of a story in a manner that continually recontextualizes the issues, offering alternative understandings of single moments and their principal protagonists, revising the original tale and adding greater complexity. It not only works as a strategy of telling, but it also masterfully reinforces a logic of DJ practice that is at the book’s foundation.
The book relies strongly on interviews with pioneering and veteran DJs (some of which are featured on a helpful online companion website; note, however, that some of the links featuring recorded tracks are already defunct), adding a distinct authority to the project while presenting a sense of personality to the mix. Some of the artists, such as Grandwizzard Theodore, Qbert, DJ Shadow or DJ A-Trak are well known, but there are a host of lesser-known innovators here who provide insights galore. One comes away from the book with more than just an awareness of who did what, when, but also of who these people are and what drove them in their ongoing pursuit of DJ artistry and excellence. Katz presents their open admissions of accidental discovery and of failure and he is particularly adept at eliciting conversations about attribution and respect around issues of hip-hop legitimacy and claims of creative authority over specific turntable techniques such as “scratching” (and its myriad inflections), “transforming,” and ”beat juggling.” DJ Aladdin is cited in this discussion as he attempts to sidestep the implications of improper attribution and the ego-based antagonisms that can ensue, stating, “I don’t get into the political talk about the DJ world” (119).
Katz, too, attempts to navigate the waters of conjecture and dispute, offering voice to DJs who are highly opinionated about their art form and whose opinions are frequently at odds. In this regard, we see that this is not a simple game lacking stakes but, like anything of cultural value, it matters greatly how the lore is framed and what kinds of knowledge are produced. Katz not only illuminates the details but he also offers insights on what it means and why some things might actually be worth fighting for.
Pertaining to this last point, in the later chapters Katz engages several key debates about the relationships between original vinyl-based analog technologies and DJs’ rising reliance on contemporary digital technologies, the role of women as hip-hop DJs, and the sense of tradition that saturates the discourse of DJ artistry. This is a kind of culmination, carrying the story into the current moment where the past and present mingle and, at times, collide violently. For instance, no one disputes the significance of women entering the ranks of accomplished DJs yet there is an underlying sense that digital turntablism makes it easier for anyone to become a reasonably competent DJ; hence, for some chauvinistic male DJs the emergence of a greater female presence may be based on a decline or dilution of traditional techniques. In another context, Katz explains how issues of modern technological convenience are not necessarily at odds with old school orthodoxies, citing several founding hip-hop DJs (including Afrika Bambaataa or Grandwizzard Theodore) who accept the displacement of bulky and heavy vinyl which, over a lifetime, can contribute to chronic back problems.
I take minor issue with a few aspects of the book. For instance, when Grandwizzard Theodore and others suggest that hip-hop DJs made “something from nothing” (147; 253), a point that is repeated in several permutations throughout the book, Katz seems to let it stand, even though the text is replete with counter-evidence indicating that hip-hop and the art of the DJ evolved from a deep cultural heritage and rich local scenes that are, conversely, full. Most readers would be aware of the intent of this sentiment, yet it also indulges an idealized notion of success over adversity that is at odds with many of Katz’s own observations, such as when he articulates the love, nurture, support and creativity that seep endlessly through the hard cracks of tough urban conditions. While Katz seeks to balance the recollections, presenting differing interpretations of this or that “fact”, the discourse of “something from nothing” offers one case where more rigorous challenge could be warranted.
In a final assessment, on every page of Groove Music Mark Katz expresses his love, respect and most of all, his knowledge of the art of the DJ. No one—and here I would include outsiders, passing fans, hardcore hip-hop heads as well as seasoned DJs—will come away from this book without learning something new.