It was a voice speaking from the other side.
In his masterful book Dilla Time, author Dan Charnas tells a poignant story of the first time John “Illa J” Yancey heard “Waves” by his late brother James Yancey, better known as J Dilla. Making way through blustery winter conditions to be with his family in Detroit in the wake of his brother’s death, John decided to put on Dilla’s new CD, Donuts. Dilla’s final album had been released only days before the producer’s passing. While the popular legend that Donuts was created in hospital while Dilla was dying from complications related to a rare blood disease is untrue, the album’s fragmented, dense sound is undeniably suffused with an otherworldly quality.
For his part, Yancey was taken aback by its uncanny spookiness. Then writes Charnas, (emphasis mine) “in the third track, John swore he heard his brother. In the same playful voice that James used long ago in the basement…calling out to him: Johhhhnnny.”
Only it wasn’t Dilla’s voice, at least not physically. “Waves,” alongside the immortal cut-up jam “Workinonit,” samples 10cc, an arch British art pop group from the early ‘70s. That phantasmagoric lilt—Johhhhnnny—comes courtesy of the group’s satirical sock hop tune “Johnny, Don’t Do It.” But what does that matter? James heard his brother, speaking through the sample, addressed by its stretched, Dilla-time warped manipulation of the original song. “Johnny, do it.” The message helped inspired Illa J’s commitment to creating music.
Ghost boxes, spirit photography, phantom voices via radio waves.
Our relationship to the supernatural has always been mediated by technology. In recent years, the idea of AI technology has inspired fear, consternation, apocalyptic proclamations, and posed questions about what constitutes consciousness itself. This week, I found myself fascinated by the brief rise and quick fall of an AI-generated “fake” Drake and Weeknd song, “Heart On My Sleeve.” I won’t recount all the details here—you’d be best served by checking out Joe Coscarelli’s An A.I. Hit of Fake ‘Drake’ and ‘The Weeknd’ Rattles the Music World to get the lowdown—but it makes me wonder: can you chalk the song’s success up purely to viral novelty? Or is there something genuinely appealing about this simulacrum to streaming listeners? Like Damon Krukowski put it in his excellent
article “Musicians Need Labor Rights More than Copyrights,” the song’s certainly cliched, but then again, “but so is a lot of successful pop.”From a “canceled AI rapper” to “‘fake’ artists on Spotify,” I think anyone who’s nervous about what AI means for working musicians and artistic expression in general has good reason to be baffled. “Our current moment feels like a bifurcation point, like we’ve crossed a line in the technological quicksand,” Erik Davis, one of my favorite thinkers, stated in a recent Burning Shore essay. But what if, in the midst of all the uncertainty, there are curious and artistically adventurous paths forward?
That’s why I was so inspired by Coscarelli’s posting of a full email interview with artist, technologist, and podcaster Holly Herndon about the ethics, complications, and ultimately, the possibilities of “spawning,” the term she uses for creating with AI tools. Asked whether or not it's “hyperbolic when people compare the technology to synths, samplers or Napster,” Herndon replies, “We will see artists emerge who are as inventive with spawning as J Dilla was with sampling.”
What conditions must exist in order for some measure of equity to be possible along side that inventiveness—remember when 10cc’s label sued the Dilla estate? And what might that inventiveness look like? What language would I need to describe it? It’s all in flux. But I’m sure there will be, undoubtedly, those who will coax soulful ghosts from the machines—those who recognize the expansive notion of a human “voice” with something that needs to be said.
Random notes:
"Endless waves of good vibes here!" That's
' review of Aquarium Drunkard's Transmissions podcast interview with Surya Botofasina. We spoke about how his mediative spiritual jazz connects to "the here and now" and what it was like growing up as part of Alice Coltrane's spiritual community Santa Monica Mountains.Kind of like Songs: Ohia morphing into Magnolia Electric Co, Mystic 100’s are the next evolution of the crew formerly known as Milk Music (who’s . Their new album, On a Macro Diet, is one of my favorite psychedelic albums of the year—raw, ragged, uncompromising and full of surprises—vintage SST meets head-spinning jam band grovoers. Over at WASTOIDS, we’re taking calls for Mystic 100’s for the next episode of our show Hotline. Don’t delay, call 1-877-WASTOIDS with your questions for Mystic 100’s today!