Beatboxers are different. Excuse me; I mean "vocal percussionists" (the PC term) are different. Different from the rest of us singers. Maybe even different from the rest of humanity, except for professional wrestlers and political candidates.
Have a chat with any pro beatboxer and within two minutes he will claim to be the best in the world. Not *one* of the best; but *the* best. Though these sultans of spit come in all shapes, colors and temperaments, they're all stricken with a mutant braggadocio chromosome.
Oh, how these guys love to talk trash. They dis each other's kick and snare sounds like strippers rag on each other's boobs. There's more roaring, chest-pounding and slinging of feces than in a gorilla cage.
As a bona fide legend of modern acapella, I've worked with and befriended a bunch of these talented fellows -- I dare say the mightiest of the mighty: Jeff Thacher (Rockapella), Andrew Chaikin (a.k.a Kid Beyond, The House Jacks), Wes Carrol (Five O'Clock Shadow, The House Jacks), David "Stack" Stackhouse (Five O'Clock Shadow), Jon Ryan (Ball In The House), Ed Chung (Duwende), Paul Sperrazza (Toxic Audio), and Charlie La Greca (Minimum Wage).
I've asked each of these lords of lip to explain what distinguishes him from his lesser, tonge-a-diddling brethren. Indeed, what the hell makes *him* the beatboxing bomb and the others just a bunch of salivating metronobodies?
David “Stack” Stackhouse of Five O’Clock Shadow is a multi-tasker extraordinaire. I used to think that my own ability to simultaneously walk, chew gum, breathe and think about Christy Turlington represented mad multitasking skillz; but Stack can do those things, clean his oven and still have enough remaining brain power to spout off with the hyper-narcissistic glee upon which my theory rests:
“Charlie Who? Paul Who? Ed Who? Kid What? I don't even remember the other guys’ names. I don't have to, and neither do you. There's only one name you gotta remember, and that's STACK. Other vocal bands need two guys to do what I can do all by myself. That's ‘cuz I do the beat and the bass at the same time! That's beatbass, and I am the master. Y'see, the brain has two hemispheres. When I'm on stage, one hemisphere focuses on the beat, while the other focuses on the bass. These other guys? Maybe the other hemisphere focuses on masturbation - I dunno, it's none of my business. But as long as I'm on the subject of self-gratification....I'm a Berklee-graduated, rhythm-syncopated unfluctuated, lips-teeth-'n'-tongue lubricated, superhuman metronome. I put the finesse before the flex. While those other showboats are choking on their 64th notes, I'm rollin' like a Rolex. I keep time like it's atomic. Greenwich sets the world around it. But you guys go ahead with your ’bitsy kitsy’ backbeats over corny ‘neer-neer’ guitar imitations. Real musicians want a beatboxer, vocal percussionist, beatbass, a screaming 4-octave vocal range, my ripped biceps and triceps; without limitations. Now they know what to say: S - T - A - C - K. Altogether now, ladies... STACK!”
Nice. Stack didn’t just *draw* first blood; he smeared the walls with it.
Jon Ryan of Ball In The House does his job with cool finesse and a conspicuous lack of theatrical histrionics, but don’t think that his admirable stage restraint prevents him from engaging in this verbal smackdown. He deflates his “peers” by exploding the myth of their illusory ways:
“Ok, you hear all these other guys and you think, ‘wow, really cool noises - he sounds just like a drum!’ Well guess what, Einstein - let me let you in on a little industry secret - they sound like drums cuz there really *are* drums! I mean what you are hearing is an actual drum sound and all these clowns are using a trade secret we call ‘lip syncing’: they move their mouths in perfect time to the beat, just pretending to make noise. Now, I'll admit that it takes some mad skills to lip sync to the beat. These cats got rhythm. But what you're hearing is just a prerecorded track. Nobody can make those kinds of sounds with their mouths. It's just not possible. Now, me, I make real sounds, and by that I mean not only do I make my sounds live, with no con artistry, but I also put out an arsenal of true-to-life vocal sounds - stuff you'd expect to hear coming from the mouth: lip smacking, heavy breathing, teeth chattering and what have you, all in the service of a sweet groove. My ‘cough, cough, sneeze, slurp, cough, cough, slurp’ can rock circles around those posers. Don't even get me started on my throat-clearing phlegm or rockin’ raspberries. When I lay down the mean beats, you'll never doubt that I'm actually making these sounds. Just sit back and enjoy the groovy ‘smack, fart, breathe, fa-’ What? No, that was me making the sounds with my mouth! I didn't really pass gas. I would never do tha- What's that? My mic wasn't on? No, really, I swear it was! That was vocal flatulen- No, I don't smell anything! Um, I gotta run. Forgot something backstage...”
Charlie La Greca of Minimum Wage is a man in a uniform, which endows him with an air of authority that puts the other guys, in their drab civilian threads, to shame. Ok, it’s a short order cook’s uniform, but there’s still something militarily sexy about it. He’s the only one of the big guns who employs the sounds of launching fireworks, chugging soda, and Pacman munching in his drum solo. He also writes comedy and is a brilliant cartoonist. He writes:
“Fellow Beatbox/Vocal Percussionists and enthusiasts: Thppppt-Fata-dum-da-dum-dum. Kish -tsssssss-tsssssss-tsssssss. DOOOOOM DOOOM DOOOM, ctunk tunk kshhht. Rattatatatata duh duh duh KEEEERRRRSHHH!!!! If you don't understand what I just said, then you obviously are not worthy. Yours Truly, Orwell (Drive Thru Specialist - Best Beatboxer in the INNER and OUTER Star systems. Happy Burger 247)”
Wes Carroll of The House Jacks (and formerly of Five O’Clock Shadow, and sometimes of All About Buford) is part of the weisenheimer brain trust clique of vocal percussionists who are just plain smarter than the rest of us garden variety acapella dunces. This ought to give him major bragging rights, but the guy is just too humble (or politically savvy) for that. Not only has he occupied the sweaty drummer’s throne for two of the nation’s leading acapella groups, but he beat all the other blusterers to the mercenary punch by releasing a set of instructional videos & DVDs, thereby instantly establishing himself as the professor with the longest, whitest beard and the most rugged plastic pen protector. Brag, damnit! Brag!:
“The only place I really shine among these folks is teaching. That's part of why I make most of my living as a math tutor. So while I'm not necessarily the best vocal percussionist in the world (sacrilege against the Code Of VP!), I might be the very best teacher of it. In any case, that's a niche I'd like to occupy in the world's collective mind.”
Then, predictably, the deformed VP gene fired and Wes began the “vp strut”, displaying his accolades like so many gold medals (or bowling trophies):
“Drummers routinely comment to me after shows that my hardware (hi-hats in particular) sound completely authentic, and artfully deployed to boot; vocal percussionists most commonly ask me to teach my snare, which sounds less like spitting than most imitations; and my brushes are the trick that most frequently wows unsuspecting beatboxers. In addition, I have smaller ears than any other vocal percussionist; I have superior taste in socks; my relatively short stature allows me to fit into smaller spaces, which is useful in some tour vans; I am nationally ranked in freestyle toolless ice sculpture; animals trust me; I collect award-winning haiku; I have a bionic pancreas; and I sometimes teach people to make drum noises with their mouths. I dunno. It's tough because one of the musicians I most revere is Tony Levin, who is known not only for being rock-solid in his craft and tasteful in his artistry, but also modest and friendly to a fault. I may not be modest, true, but I really don't like talking myself up among vocal percussionists... and to be blunt, it's because there isn't anybody flatly ‘better’ than I am -- there are only people whose taste or style is better suited to any particular project.”
There - you heard it! “There’s nobody better than Wes Carroll!” The gladiators are muscling into the coliseum, and the hair-pulling and towel snapping has commenced. With any luck we’ll witness a wedgie. One thing’s for certain: THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE.
Paul Sperrazza, the spellbinding vp from the Drama Desk Award-winning Toxic Audio was too embarrassed by my request to even respond to my e-mail. I was thus reduced to calling him on the phone, an act which is clearly beneath my legendary status. Our brief chat consisted of me begging him to give me “just one morsel of trash talk to prove my thesis”, and him not taking the bait. Stymied. If he won’t toot his horn then I’ll do it for him: The guy is a natural stage star, dripping with charisma and talent and, damn him, he can do a standing back flip! Clearly he thinks so much of himself that he won’t even deign to utter the boastful words. Thesis thus far intact.
Ed Chung pounds the lip skins for Duwende with impressive thump and panache. He has sat in with my group The GrooveBarbers on several occasions, and I was wowed by his musicality, consistency and blistering snare sound. With these super skills, and as a Juilliard-trained clarinetist, Ed knows how to blow hard, deliver the punishing verbal zingers that exemplify his crowing vp species:
"I explain why I'm the best in Volume One of my instructional DVD series, ‘Ed Chung, King Of Awesome’. Unfortunately, I don't have time to talk or write about it in further detail -- I'm too busy perfecting my djembe sound. However, I can say now that I'm the best because I can do a back flip. Oh, wait, that's that other dude. In all seriousness, am I the best? Come see Duwende perform. Next question. I'll leave it to others to call me the best. Which I am."
Kid Beyond throws down...sort of
Andrew Chaikin, a.k.a. Kid Beyond honed his solo chops as the longtime vp for The House Jacks. The guy was great in a group setting, but as a solo artist he’s astounding. I sh*t you not: Kid Beyond’s solo act is one of the most original and compelling live spectacles I’ve ever seen: dazzling vocal percussion, superb singing and songwriting, and it’s all created live, with looping wizardry via foot pedals depressed by KB’s nimble feet. The one-man band thing sounds like a parlor trick that would quickly wear thin, but the magnetic KB executes the loops so effortlessly and the songs are so damned cool that even jaded music curmudgeons like me get swept up in his deftly layered rock. If anyone deserves to arch his back and splay his peacock feathers, it’s Andrew; but despite my goading, he managed to repress his hard-wired puffy-chestedness. Witness this e-mail exchange:
Andrew: “I think this is a silly topic for an article, and that you are a silly, silly man. I don't *want* to trash my fellow vocal percussionists; why can't we all just get along?”
Sean: “Because getting along isn't entertaining. Ali and Foreman staring each other down in Manila - *that* was entertaining! Give me something inflammatory, like secret evidence that Wes likes to pork sheep or that Thacher mics his colon. Something. Anything!”
Andrew: “In my opinion, the two best vocal percussionists in the country are Kenny Muhammad and Rahzel.”
Sean: “You’re no fun, and what’s worse: your annoying humility is endangering my thesis.”
Jeff Thacher of Rockapella is the Bill Russell of vocal percussionists. Bill never had Wilt Chamberlain’s on-court flash or off-court intrigue, but he sports a record 11 championship rings. That means that every finger has a ring, and one even has two (unless he put the 11th ring somewhere naughty). Whatever; when he punches you, you get bloodied and branded with lots of NBA logos. As the 14-year vp for the most consistently successful vocal band on the planet, Rockapella, Jeff wins. He is the king. Furthermore, as a songwriter, I’ll always opt for Jeff’s solid, funky rhythms and big-bottom sounds over the other guys’ pizzaz and virtuosity. Perhaps the primary reason that Rockapella sounds so damned good - both on record and on stage - is that Jeff’s beefy sounds occupy a deeper sonic space than his myriad protégés and imitators. Ok; I’m a little biased, because I “discovered” him (sort of like Columbus “discovered” America), but the guy consistently impresses me with his taste, musicality, originality and recording speed. He did the bombastic vocal percussion tracks for most of my “seandemonium” album on a crappy $100 mic in a hotel room in Japan, onto a 4-track cassette recorder, usually in one take. He has earned the right to talk trash:
“Seanie: How many times do I have to tell you - don't talk to strange mouth drummers! We are all water flowing down the salivary river of music. You're baiting me. Baiting me to assert my 14-year-old homesteading rights, enshrined when Andrew Chaikin and I were mapping the wilderness mostly all alone. You're a master baiter. Sort of reminds me of when I used to have small heated ‘discussions’ with my grandfather. He was a composer, and our debates were on what is ‘good’ music...was pop or rock music inherently ‘good’ or were its repetitive rhythms and structure somehow inferior to other forms? He took the role of the curmudgeon. My response came down to ‘everything is relative.’ ‘Is this fluffy pop song being the best fluffy pop song it can possibly be?’ And ‘how about that acid metal, eh?’ Back in the day, I had nobody to emulate. I just did what I did, and it was 100% me, and it was deemed to be delicious eventually. I fill any roles given to me, with a twist. I got a lot better with practice. Never sought popularity. That's a slippery slope. Mostly sought a good ride. No pun intended. Ok fine, I totally kick ass. Step off, b*tches.”
I rest my case. I assert that I have convincingly proved my assertion, if not by scientific, then at least by journalistic standards, but then, I’m partial to The National Enquirer. Next thesis: Acapella tenors have larger penises than you would expect. Add as favorites (43) | Quote this article on your site | Views: 2684
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