J-Zone - Fish-N-Grits (March 31, 2016)

When I first started this site, one of the goals I hoped to achieve was to turn a larger audience onto New York-based Renaissance man Jay “J-Zone” Mumford. Ever since I first read about the man… online or in The Source or something, I honestly can’t remember anymore, sorry Jay, I’ve been a fan: he’s a guy who takes his craft seriously, but himself not so much, and that spirit follows him into his production style, which depletes all available samples in the surrounding area in a playful style, not unlike Prince Paul, but can turn on a dime to something much more street when necessary. His rhymes, however, have always been confessional, conversational, and, at times, downright silly as fuck, which is a compliment: it’s difficult to maintain one’s sense of humor when they’re getting screwed over by the very industry that employs them.

From his early days as a shit-talking smart-ass whose debut full-length album, Music For Tu Madre, started its life as his college thesis, to his rebirth as an author (his memoir, Root for the Villain: Rap, Bullshit, and a Celebration of Failure, is still one of the best hip hop-related books out there, and should be required reading for anyone who dares to enter this industry), to his current status as a drummer (he’s one-half of the funk duo The Du-Rites), Zone has led a storied career with many ups and downs, even if the highs are more plentiful in the fan’s eyes than it is his own. Zone famously walked away from our chosen genre to teach high school, as that was more financially stable than rapping and, sadly, unlike some of these other artists, he had the ability (and the degree) to do so in the first place. Since his re-entry into the business, he’s left teaching behind to practice his craft full-time, said craft being “drumming” and not so much “producing” (at least not within hip hop) or “rapping” (at all: he’s confirmed that he’s essentially done with the microphone.

This leaves us with Fish-N-Grits, J-Zone’s seventh full-length solo album (following several side projects, such as an EP, a remix album, a mixtape dedicated to the St. Ides rap-infused commercials of yore, a collaboration with Celph Titled, and so on) and his unofficial finale as a rap artist. (His actual last appearance behind the mic came in the form of a cameo on another artist’s project just this year, but it had been recorded a while ago.) This 2016 effort followed the man’s comeback, 2013’s Peter Pan Syndrome, which first introduced us to a Jay Mumford who was much more realistic about his prospects, using his platform as a stand-up comedian may use a brick wall facade, offering observations on what is and isn’t working within our chosen genre while questioning his own place within it.

Fish-N-Grits is entirely produced by Zone, and unlike Peter Pan Syndrome, he was much more confident in his abilities behind the drums, so he also provides all of the percussion himself this time around. His previous efforts followed a loose theme (especially Peter Pan Syndrome, which, at times, mirrored his memoir fairly closely), but Zone purposely made less of an effort on Fish-N-Grits, as the bulk of it consists of songs taken from twelve-inch singles he had previously released, and when a project appears to be created by patchwork, it’s impossible for it to sound as fluid. My gut tells me that Zone wanted to put out one final project for those of us that have followed his career since the beginning, but also, he’s sick of hip hop and wanted to be done with it as soon as possible, so we ended up with Fish-N-Grits, which wasn’t rushed, but also features pretty much everything he wanted to say before walking away from this aspect of his musical career, which happened to include said previously-released songs.

This would explain why a good chunk of this album consists of instrumental pieces. Zone’s never shied away from these before, but it just feels… different now.

1. SHUT UP, MAKE MUSIC (SWAGBOI VS. PURIST)

Zone and his G-Child-esque alter ego Chief Chinchilla talk their shit regarding the ridiculous arguments we all see on the Interweb regarding 1990s hip hop versus the music of today (arguments we’ve all been a part of at some time in our lives, let’s be real). Aside from claiming that there are only two types of music, “good” and “bad”, J-Zone doesn’t really add anything to the public discourse during this rap album intro. Except for the music, that is: the underlying instrumental isn’t bad, and his work on the drums has improved dramatically since Peter Pan Syndrome. Still a goofy way to kick off Fish-N-Grits, but I’ll let it slide for now. And as for you two: do you side with Zone’s binary categorization of music from all eras, or do you find it to be an oversimplification? Talk your shit in the comments below.

2. TIME FOR A CRIME WAVE

Starts off with our host decrying how soft his city has become, what with the gentrification and all, but takes a sharp left turn to criticize the music industry for producing artists who only serve to further stereotypes and maintain the status quo, as opposed to challenging the system. Zone’s verses are as detailed and, at times, hilarious as ever, but he’s clearly pissed off by the time he starts name-dropping Iggy Azalea and Bobby Shmurda as examples of rappers who were wronged by the major label system. (He does bring up a good point about Shmurda, I have to admit.) The beat is jovial and bouncy, a stark contrast to our host’s calling of a crime wave in order to bring a sense of fear and respect back to New York-slash-hip hop. Although he’s obviously embittered at this point, the Zone spitting on here is akin to the guy who once released his senior thesis as his debut album, sounding like he has something new to prove, even though he’s been mentally checked out for years. Weird, but good.

3. STICK UP

Although it’s clear that Zone was sick of rap at this point in his career (and not just because the next track is literally called “I’m Sick Of Rap”, which is kind of on the nose, Jay), he’s never been a stranger to including instrumental tracks on his albums, and Fish-N-Chips is no different. “Stick Up” complements “Time For A Crime Wave” in theme, but is a much funkier effort from our host, so much so that you can actually hear the joy he’s exuding banging on the drums. So it’s a good thing “Stick Up” is catchy as hell. As with the previous song,  “Stick Up” hearkens back to a simpler time in Zone’s early career. Nice.

4. I’M SICK OF RAP

Our host does rap a bit more on Fish-N-Chips, but “I’m Sick Of Rap” serves as J-Zone’s official retirement from the microphone. He goes through his lengthy list of grievances over another jaunty instrumental that likely wouldn’t sell to anyone else anyway, but he does alright with it, even though his flow gets a bit awkward at times, barely fitting the structure of it in the first place. His problems with our chosen genre are numerous and well-documented, whether they come from his Twitter and Instagram feeds, his memoir, or his other songs, but he makes his point well, even dragging in the argument from the opening track for good measure. Not my favorite J-Zone performance, but it deserves to be heard at least once.

5. RAP IS A CIRCUS  ̶ AND WE HOPE THE ELEPHANTS TRAMPLE EVERYBODY

The best song title of the evening and, likely, the entire history of the blog, is used on this glorified interlude, on which Zone and Chief Chinchilla touch on some unaddressed topics from “I’m Sick of Rap”, both sides of our host’s persona coming across as grumpy old men who see hip hop as I do: as a source of entertainment that should be judged as such, but nothing more. Sly potshot at Meek Mill aside, Zone and his alter-ego (oh yeah, Swagmaster Bacon also pops up toward the end) jeep the criticism aimed squarely at the listener who may be worried about the wrong things. So, basically, you and I. Hey, I can admit it.

6. SEOUL POWER

Another instrumental, although a bit less interesting than “Stick Up”. You still wouldn’t skip past it, though. That is, if any of you two have Fish-N-Chips playing as you’re reading my thoughts, which I assume both of you do all the time, right?

7. CADDY COUPE (FEAT. HAS-LO)

Lest one believes Fish-N-Chips consists solely of J-Zone talking to all of the voices in his head, “Caddy Coupe”, whose instrumental is smooth as fuck, features a cameo from Has-Lo, who has been confirmed to be an entirely separate person from our host. An unofficial ode to Zone’s grandfather’s vehicle of choice, “Caddy Coupe” features both artists waxing poetically with car-based bars and a general sense of calm, the beat sounding like a summer evening that’s just about to get good. Has-Lo abandons his post fairly quickly, but he’s still able to leave his mark, while Zone’s rhymes are better than he thinks they are. The Chief Chinchilla stuff wasn’t really necessary on here, but I suppose he needed to introduce the theme to the listener somehow.

8. CLUBBA LANG (FEAT. AL-SHID)

J-Zone’s first, and best, collaborator (at least since Huggy Beat moved on to other things), Al-Shid had to pop up on Fish-N-Chips, lest he breach a contract of some sort. “Clubba Lang” is a bit of a cheat, since it was originally released as an Al-Shid solo twelve-inch single, but it still makes for a fine break in the day from Zone’s constant complaints about those around him. Shid runs through his bars effortlessly over a drum-heavy instrumental (obviously performed by Zone himself), proving that not only is he deserving of a critically acclaimed-and-not-by-just-me solo career, he should try to convince Zone to produce at last one of his albums in full. And yet this isn’t even Shid’s high point of the evening. We’ll get to that in a bit. Still, though, pretty fucking good.

9. CIGARETTES

A quickie interlude that sounds okay, but is unnecessary otherwise. It happens, folks. But you’ll appreciate the opportunity for a breather before the next track.

10. DREAMCRUSHER (FEAT. AL-SHID)

Zone held “Dreamcrusher” back for the album, which was a smart move: this shit is so fucking fire, it’s worth the price of admission all by its damn self. Over some aggressive drum work, Al-Shid and J-Zone team up to spit their boasts-n-bullshit, with Shid walking away with the belt thanks to a flow that sounds so calm and easygoing that it may as well be passive-aggressive, but our host is no slouch, the presence of his longtime friend and former Old Maid Billionaires rhyme partner inspiring him to step up his pen game. The highlight of Fish-N-Chips by a country goddamn mile and it isn’t even close.

11. FUNKY

Not only an excuse for Zone to record his drum sessions, “Funky” could also double as an origin story of sorts for his future work as one-half of the Du-Rites.

12. GO BACK TO SELLIN’ WEED

Zone and Chinchilla return to complain about the current state of rap, this time focusing on those who don’t contribute much to the conversation and, at least according to our host, should go back to hustling on the streets., The point here is muddled, especially as Zone even admits that his advice doesn’t “sound good”, but the underlying music is earworm-y, weaving its way around your synapses until it finds a pocket to settle in. “Go Back To Sellin’ Weed” should have been funnier: as it stands, it just seems like Zone really wants people to just hang it up with no irony whatsoever. Which he might, I wouldn’t know.

13. I SMELL SMOKE

Another instrumental.

14. MAD RAP (2.0)

Chief Chinchilla challenges J-Zone to talk about actual problems in the world, as opposed to the “comedy rap” he’s been perfecting for fifteen years (Zone has clearly forgotten that he’s written those type of songs, such as “Inauguration Day”, in the past). Our host acquiesces by adopting the “angry black man” stereotype, but can’t shake either his worldview or his sense of humor, so “Mad Rap (2.0)” (an updated version of a song called, obviously, “Mad Rap” that he had released previously) ends up being Zone’s most focused performance of the entire project, as he dissects his disgust for the word “hater”. For what it’s worth, this update tightens the loose ends from the original take: they’re otherwise identical for the most part, so you two can get by with just this version.

15. ROBBIN’ BROOKLYN HIPSTER CHICKS (FEAT. SWAGMASTER BACON)

Zone cape the evening by eschewing everything that’s come before, bringing out the Swagmaster Bacon persona to bring listeners some trap shit about, well, robbing hipster chicks in Brooklyn, I assume you all read the title? Zone’s clearly having fun on what ended up being the last rap song in his personal catalog, but “Robbin’ Brooklyn Hipster Chicks” is novelty rap and nothing more: when our host pops up toward the end to throw both of his alter-egos out of his studio, you’ll likely be happy to never hear from either of these guys ever again. And with that, we’re out.

FINAL THOUGHTS: If you’ve never heard J-Zone before and wanted to give the man a shot after hearing projects from The Du-Rites or reading his rants on Twitter and Instagram, Fish-N-Grits is not your entry point. This is the work of a man who is content with leaving a part of himself behind in order to advance, and while the man is at his sharpest lyrically, you can hear in his voice that he’s over it already. You’ll want to start with his earlier work, the vast majority of which Zone has helpfully made available on his Bandcamp page. If you like Prince Paul’s work, then you’ll like J-Zone, especially as Zone also raps a lot over his own beats. But if you’re me and you’ve followed his work for a while now, you’ll likely appreciate this closing chapter more. The instrumentals are playful at times, but skew more angry and frustrated, and a lot of them sound like a natural progression from Peter Pan Syndrome. Zone has always been able to get the best performances out of (some of) his collaborators, and while the guest list on here is damn near nonexistent, Has-Lo and (especially, I mean, goddamn) Al-Shid still manage to kill shit. I left Fish-N-Grits understanding that we’ll likely never get another J-Zone album ever again, at least unless he suddenly has something he wants to say about the current state of rap (his argument, which is both entirely rational and anger-inducing, is that people should be able to enjoy whatever they wish, regardless of whether it’s boom bap, mumble rap, trap music, or whatever), but I still hope that he’ll find the time and inspiration to continue producing actual rap songs for other artists (*cough* Al-Shid *cough*) while pursuing his dreams as a funk soul drummer.

BUY OR BURN:  If you’re unfamiliar with his work, go to Bandcamp and stream it first. If you’re like me, however, you should have purchased this album the moment you realized I was writing about it.

BEST TRACKS: “Dreamcrusher”; “Clubba Lang”; “Time For A Crime Wave”; “Caddy Coupe”; “Dreamcrusher” (yeah, I listed it twice, what of it)

-Max

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