by John Bear
Daily Lobo
Pumpkinhead, the unsung hero of the hip-hop world, has finally released a full-length album on a label.
Orange Moon Over Brooklyn combines intelligent lyrics and earthy, heavily turntablized beats that remind the listener of the good old days - 1992.
The good old days are over. Hip-hop appears to be on a downward trajectory due in no small part to its refusal to innovate, choosing instead to move forward with the same MO that has served it well thus far - 4/4, 88 beats per minute, throw your hands in the air.
This is ironic because hip-hop is probably the most innovative form of music to come out of anywhere at any time. Imagine, a guy figured out how to make an entirely new song with two pre-existing pieces of music by cutting them back and forth on a two turntables. Pure genius.
Pumpkinhead embarks on his project utilizing this standard approach to his chosen art form. Many of the album's tracks deal with standard hip-hop fare - braggadocio, dissing on lesser emcees and the like. And he does it well.
The album often veers off course, tackling subjects that are illusive but not entirely unheard-of in the realm of rap lyricism. In "Anything," Pumpkinhead pays homage to his mother and father in a manner similar to Tupac Shakur's "Dear Mama." "Grenades" deals with his father's Vietnam experiences and also serves as a spirited tirade against the United States' latest outing to the Middle East.
When all is said and done, the lyrics on this album are mature and well thought-out, a far cry from the typical hoes-in-da-club ramblings of most his better-known contemporaries.
Marco Polo provides the production on Orange Moon Over Brooklyn, which is tight if not terribly original. The beats strike a fairly sentimental tone, sounding like they were conceived in the early '90s, rather than the newer, more computer-reliant beats of late. They rely mostly on simple melodies over standard rock beats with rampant cutting and fading - courtesy of two turntables manned by DP One - interspersed throughout.
A distinct advantage of using turntables in the production process is the spontaneous mood that arises in the songs. This can also be accomplished by other means - samplers can get the job done, and, god forbid, a live band - but turntables work the best.
Get content from The Daily Lobo delivered to your inbox
In any case, Pumpkinhead always gets producers who provide beats that sound like they sprang up out of the ether at the very moment he recorded his lyrics. The almost impossible-to-locate track "It's Over" is a prime example of a song that leaps up like it's alive, sparing the listener the canned-sounding beats that plague hip-hop music.
He never quite accomplishes the living organism vibe present in "It's Over," but he comes close with "Swordfish," which features a skipping, monotone guitar loop that fades in and out, meshing almost perfectly with each syllable spoken.
The high point of the album is its closing track, "Anthem for the End of the World," which alone is worth the price of admission. The beat is a dramatic, falling string melody accented with finger picked guitar. Jean Grae - whose skill level improves with each project - trades two extended flows with Pumpkinhead.
Pumpkinhead is a highly talented emcee and has been around for years, but for some reason, he never achieved the widespread fame of, say, 50 Cent. Perhaps he doesn't have a publicist who can fabricate convincing enough street cred for him. Perhaps the universe is just a cruel and unjust place.
