Actionman Magazine Interview with Thes One

Interview by: Andrew Schrock

Date: 2002

No, the latest album by People Under the Stairs - Original Soundtrack - doesn't have anything to do with the Wes Craven film of the same name. However, it is the most amiable, stylistically varied album to date by hip-hop duo Double K and Thes One, who freely admit that "It seems nowadays people are afraid to joke around and laugh in hip hop." It's easy to see this in tracks like "Acid Raindrops," where they preach "We keep our minds on fun / and let drums do the bangin'." But after three albums, there's no doubt that they're deadly serious about the life of being b-boys and producers. Actionman caught up with Thes-one recently in the studio to see what hip-hop means to them, find out about their working methods, and discuss why the Internet saps the life out of local music.

Throughout the late '80s and early '90s, hip-hop was based on sounds - mostly drums or loopable segments - lifted from old records. Pioneers such as Marley Marl or Pete Rock intuitively recognized the untapped possibilities in the body-moving funk etched into decades-old grooves. In an odd display the cyclical nature of music, the future of hip-hop and rap lay in the jazz, funk, and soul of their parents' generation. This point is hardly lost on Thes One, who still adheres strictly to this style of hip-hop production, even after so many other producers have traded their samplers in for synthesizers. "I think that's how we always mean it, to explore, but at the same time, to work within that same lineage. So if you listen to a Beatnuts album and then you listen to our album it will seem to come from the same genre of music. Cuz we owe a lot to those cats."

The process of finding samples, background beats and instrumentation to use in songs is generally known as "digging." It's easy to see how diggers are considered the librarians of the underground hip-hop scene. The best ones will be able to reach into their vast collection of rare, obscure music to pull out that one obscure loop that will make a song complete. Why obscure? For one thing, you only need to take a look at the latest headlines (such as Dr. Dre and DJ Quik getting slapped with a 500 million lawsuit by Lata Mangeshkar of NME) to realize that sampling other people's music is still a process that can put an end to an producer's future with a quickness. Since the early '90s, when Biz Markie made himself a target by sampling Gilbert O'Sullivan's "Alone Again, Naturally" without permission, messy and expensive lawsuits have become a part of the business. You either have to clear samples (rent the rights to use samples in a song) or just press your records and hope that nobody from the pressing plant or the sampled label's legal team are listening.

Aside from the fact that using recognizable samples is legally risky, using obscure samples will increase your reputation as a producer. It will be apparent that you have that connection for unique sample sources the competition doesn't. PUTS are outspoken on their belief that sampling can indeed be a creative enterprise - most importantly, giving credit where it is due. "I know that way back when, when I was listening to [the music of other producers], it got me interested in old music; and through old music I learned about political movements, and all of these things, so I'm hoping that we can keep that alive and get these young kids into old music through hip-hop and through sampling," says Thes. Not surprisingly, their music is full of inside references. As an inside joke, the orange label art of O.S.T. is identical to that of the CTI label, one of the more popular '70s soul-jazz record imprints. Anybody who needs assurance that sampling is in fact an art form need only check out "Suite for Beaver pt. 1," with a Pete Rock-style intro, catchy pitched-up vocal hook, and playful vocals placed perfectly alongside the jazzy backing. This isn't a simple MC and DJ duo, Thes explains: "Both Double K and I are producers at heart, and more so musical people. We both play instruments...We never mix that with hip- hop...but Double K's an incredible drummer and bassist, and I can hold my own on the keyboards and the trumpet. I set up boundaries - like, I'll only sample records. We don't sample, like, CDs or tapes," he brazenly claims. "You're never going to be able to fully get into it until you start to learn the history of the musicians and appreciate that, that's how you can really use their music to [help you]."

"Having put those boundaries in place for myself, setting that frame of reference, has allowed me to really explore what can be done within [it]...The style for us has been to work within that and see what we can come up with, y'know, taking note of what the people that came before us did, like Premier [or] Pete Rock. A lot of times when I'm looking for records, sometimes I'm looking for records only because they help me understand this great puzzle of American music in the early '70s. Sometimes I buy records just because it was on a certain label and produced by a certain person that I don't have. The historian part of me, or the music appreciation part, is almost foremost. Then when I sift through that, it helps me understand the music better, and I think that understanding music better helps me make better beats."

On the track fittingly titled "The Dig," Thes spits, "Fuck a loopdigger." Loopdigger is an alias for one of San Francisco's own producers, Madlib. After promo copies of the album started leaking out, journalists started picking up on the connection, writing about it, and rumor and secondhand information became interpreted as truth. "It was great, I started hearing all kinds of crazy shit, like 'Yo, I heard you and Mad[lib] got in a shootout!' And it was funny to me, because I can say that a lot of it was misinterpreted." The real target of his dis were the producers who pick up records just looking for those loops, without regard for the history behind the records. He explains, "I think that that idea of looking just for loops is like raping the records," and then goes on to say, "The whole idea behind it, to me...greatly minimalizes what we [have] accomplished in sampling. I think that we've had such a hard time because of hip-hop and because of the nature of the music, [gaining] acceptance as a valid art form in America. Even though things like collage art are accepted, sampling was always theft."

In hip-hop, as in other genres, the Internet is both a blessing and a curse, broadening the paths of communication but often deflating the character of the local scene and spreading false rumors like wildfire. "I see it as a good thing; it's a great thing; it's one of the greatest technological advancements in the past century. But at the same time, for hip-hop, I don't know how good it's been. It's kinda like it's make hip-hop like fast food in America. It's homogenizing the whole [thing]. There's not much local flavor anymore...and I think that's partly due to the Internet. I think one of the biggest changes I've seen that I can pretty much directly attribute to the Internet is that local scenes in cities have changed, demographically and otherwise. Now you get most people, they just sit in front of the computer and they hear all the new shit, they filter through it. So it's taking away from, when you get a bunch of heads in one place who are fiending to hear some new shit, it helps strengthen a scene. But I don't see that scene still existing in LA."

There's a definite and unique energy at live shows, which harkens back to the days of block parties and Grandmaster Flash. When was the last time you really got excited, got all hyped up and jumped out of your seat while listening to an MP3 on your computer? Thes also agrees, laughing, "Yeah, [and you] poke the dude next to you, saying 'This is the greatest shit!' [laughs] It doesn't happen, and because of that, the way people approach hip-hop is different, it's more, like, isolated. And that's all I'm saying about local flavor. Scenes develop their own styles, and I think the Internet is crumbling away at that foundation in hip-hop. When you got people trading mp3s across country, it's good, it's great, but at the same time I don't see people coming out to clubs as much anymore."

Although the step of being signed to Om records was a big one which allowed PUTS to get previously unheard-of distribution, when asked if there are large projects on the horizon Thes admits, "Not really, I did a remix for Ubiquity and a Remix for DJ Spinna." But is he going to watch what he says from now on? "Hell no. However I feel at the moment, it's going to go down on tape. Whatever might come out, so be it."