the sixers beat the hawks. lets go sixers it is very early in the morning and even earlier in the season. insomnia not cured by a sixer win. tonite i was really into hall and oates leads to arthur baker leads to you tube rick rubin hosting jay z 99 problem mike d just dropping by like eddie haskell. terrible and good. when i was around 10 years old my (3 yr old younger) brother and i went to k mart with my mother and we were each allowed to by a cassette tape. both of us wanted to purchase 1984 by van halen yet were thwarted by not official parental advisories but just the good general sense of parents that van halen were not appropriate.
so my brother picked purple rain by prince and i picked big bam boom by hall and oates. we got home and the early report seemed to say that i really missed something. years on i now know my ears were more tuned to am radio via my babysitters house and the awkwardness of blue eyed soul philly expatriate nyc soul soups.

the following is from www.mixonline.com/mag/audio_hal_oates_cant/index.html

By Gary Eskow April 1, 2006 12:00 pm

One night in 1981, after a long day spent working on the Private Eyes album, the crowd cleared out of Electric Lady Studios (New York City). Hall, Oates, engineer Neil Kernon and a bunch of instruments and amplifiers that had been left turned on were all that remained. For almost a year, a phrase — “I can't go for that, no can do” — had been knocking around Hall's head. Now it was moving into his body.
“Remember the old Roland CompuRhythm box?” he asks. “I turned to the Rock and Roll 1 preset, sat down at a Korg organ that happened to be lying there and started to play this bass line that was coming to me. It's the old recording studio story: The engineer heard what I was doing and turned on the tape machine. Good thing, because I'm the kind of person who will come up with an idea and forget it. The chords came together in about 10 minutes, and then I heard a guitar riff, which I asked John, who was sitting in the booth, to play.”
“I remember that moment clearly,” says Oates. When we spoke, the relaxed and affable Oates had just dropped his 9-year-old son off at his math tutor and had plenty of time to talk on the cell phone before the lesson ended. Oates and his wife live in the mountains outside of Aspen, Colo., and homeschool their child. “The old Compurhythm had four presets: Rock 1, Rock 2, cha cha/samba and some other stupid beat. We both had them in our houses, and one was sitting in the studio.
“We cut everything live back then, but sometimes used the Roland box to come up with a tempo,” Oates continues. “Anyway, Daryl came up with this great bass line, using whatever sound happened to be on the organ, and Neil miked it and the drum machine.
“Daryl came up with the ‘B’ section chords, and then I plugged my 1958 Strat directly into the board, which was either an early SSL or a Trident. We were beginning to experiment with digital samplers — the Fairlight and Synclavier in particular — but were still recording analog. At any rate, Daryl sang a guitar part idea, I started to experiment with a muting thing and the part evolved on the spot.”
Did they think about adding another guitar part? “No, never!” Oates says. “When we play ‘I Can't Go for That’ in concert, I usually play some shimmery parts, but there was a leanness to the '80s sound that we were into. The Cars and other groups had that straight, simple eighth-note feel, and it was an influence on us; it was one of the cool things about '80s music. The '70s were Rococo, but punk and new wave flavored the '80s, and we responded to those styles.”
After Hall laid down a bell track, the assembled gathering called it a night. The following day, Hall sat down with his longtime collaborator, Sara Allen, and fleshed out the lyrics. “I wrote most of the lyrics,” says Hall, “but Sara contributed some ideas. I sang the lead vocal, and there's the song — can't get any simpler than that!”
A saxilo (similar to a clarinet, but with an upturned bell) solo by Charlie DeChant, percussion overdubs to put a feel on top of the CompuRhythm track and the trademark Hall & Oates lush, triple-tracked backgrounds — all fitting neatly on one roll of 2-inch tape — were all that was required to turn “I Can't Go for That” into a monster hit: It made it all the way to Number One on the Billboard Pop Singles chart at the end of January 1982, on the heels of another Number One from the previous fall, “Private Eyes.” It also hit Number One on the R&B chart, a singular feat in their distinguished history. These were heady times for the duo: Between 1981 and 1985, they landed 12 songs in the Top 10 of Billboard's Hot 100 pop singles chart. Also, the Private Eyes album made it to Number 5, tied for their highest position on the LP chart.
As it turns out, this infectious frisson had a great influence on the pop music that would follow. Listening to “I Can't Go for That” after letting it drift out of the mind for a while, one can clearly identify this track — one of the first pop hits to feature a drum machine — as a precursor to Michael Jackson's “Billie Jean” and the generation of songs built on drum machine tracks that came in its wake.
“No question about it,” Hall agrees. “Michael Jackson once said directly to me that he hoped I didn't mind that he copped that groove. That's okay; it's something we all do. [Eddie] Van Halen told me that he copied the synth part from ‘Kiss on My List’ and used it in ‘Jump.’ I don't have a problem with that at all.
“I learned so much from people my first decade or so in the business. I was a sponge — picking up things from all over the place — who eventually turned into a rock, searching for the hardcore that is my essence. In fact, I don't even listen to music these days — there's too much of it all around us! Of course, some sound seeps in around the corners, but I don't seek it out. Those early influences, though, were very important to me. Leon Huff taught me a lot about piano playing, Kenny Gamble showed me some compositional things and Tommy Bell's lyrical sensibility caught my ear. John and I were lucky enough to be taken under the wing of Arif Mardin. He taught me a lot. Most of all, his background as a person of Turkish descent who came to New York and was able to work with so many different kinds of people, and mix different cultural elements together — that's what John and I wanted to do, and we soaked up that pluralism.
“All of my songs are autobiographical,” Hall continues. “‘She's Gone’ is quintessential Hall & Oates. ‘Sara Smile’ means as much to me now as it did when I wrote it. ‘One on One’ — that song expresses a theme I've explored in lots of my songs, the idea that I've been traveling all my life but my heart longs to stay in one place; being in one place, but wanting to be somewhere else.”

the rest is from the nytimes circa 1984:




POP RECORDS TURN TO HIP-HOP
• PRINT
• SINGLE-PAGE
• SAVE

By STEPHEN HOLDEN
Published: September 23, 1984
Each year at around this time, the record industry unveils the new season's latest lines in aural fashion. Last year, the two main influences on the pop mainstream were Michael Jackson's ''Thriller,'' and an English synthesizer pop that represented a glamorous refinement of the previous year's spare ''techno-pop.'' On three of this fall's major albums - Daryl Hall & John Oates's ''Big Bam Boom'' (RCA AFLI 5309), Barry Gibb's ''Now Voyager'' (MCA 5506), and Chaka Khan's ''I Feel For You'' (Warner Bros. 25162), last season's synthesizer-pop has been dressed up and rhythmically charged with elements of ''hip-hop,'' the New York- originated dance music style that embraces rapping, scratching, break dancing and harsh, electronic sound effects. In fashion industry terms, the mood of these records might be described as one of elaborate severity, in which high technology meets the street.
No one has adapted to new trends in pop sound more quickly and with a more subtle sense of stylistic nuance than Daryl Hall & John Oates, the singing and songwriting duo who, along with the Bee Gees and Boz Scaggs, helped to refine ''blue-eyed soul'' in the mid-1970's. Instead of moving toward disco, Hall & Oates used the soul-inflected vocals and harmonic signatures refined by Motown and Philadelphia producers as the foundation for a faintly arty rock- soul that finally achieved massive popularity four years ago. Since then, an unbroken series of hits has established Hall & Oates as pop music's number-one singing duo.
While making their new album, ''Big Bam Boom,'' Hall & Oates consulted with Arthur Baker, the hip-hop producer-guru whose records, ''Planet Rock'' and ''Looking for the Perfect Beat,'' with Afrika Bambaataa and the Soul Sonic Force, were the first electronic extensions of the rap style evolved by Kurtis Blow, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, and the Sugarhill Gang. Mr. Baker, with his partner and keyboardist John Robie, reinvented the modern dance record as an arcade- like interior soundscape with all kinds of echoes and rhythmic voices in intense push-pull crosscurrents. With their sharply edged synthesized textures, their machine-gun clatter of electronic percussion, and electronically altered vocals that suggested musicalized strobe-light afterimages, Mr. Baker and Mr. Robie created a sound that evoked the crossfire of urban pressures with the vividness of a horror movie.
On ''Big Bam Boom,'' Daryl Hall & John Oates have carried that sound from the street to the fashion showroom by skillfully weaving Mr. Baker's tricks into more traditional rock and pop-soul settings. The sounds of hip-hop become one of several key textural elements in an intricately layered musical fabric. On this album, Mr. Hall, who is adept at spinning out extended soul melodies, has opted to write shorter, more abrupt tunes with catchphrase lyrics that approach a hip-hop kind of slanginess. One song - ''All American Girl'' - incorporates a rapped fragment.
Daryl Hall & John Oates's clever musical collages include something for almost every pop taste - strong vestigial elements of Philadelphia soul in ''Out of Touch'' and 'Some Things Are Better Left Unsaid,'' Eddie Van Halen-style rock guitar (played by G.E. Smith) on ''Goin' Thru the Motions,'' and echoes of the Rolling Stones on ''Bank On Love.'' By using hip-hop elements in such chic settings, Hall & Oates invert the spirit of this street music. In contrast to the communal, exhortative messages of songs like ''Planet Rock,'' they use hip-hop's sharp aural edges to underscore a cynical vision of relationships. That attitude is embodied in the slinky pop-soul ballad, ''Possession Obsession,'' which describes an upwardly mobile predator as demanding ''number one, first run, anyone.''
Barry Gibb, unlike Hall & Oates, uses hip-hop more as a subtle new textural flavor than as a strong stylistic ingredient. ''Now Voyager,'' Mr. Gibb's first solo album, continues the dreamy orchestral mood of earlier records but injects noticeably stronger and more complex rhythmic undercurrents, and the song ''Fine Line'' includes a rapped verse. Mr. Gibb has always approached pop forms as romantic abstractions. His light, breathy tenor, with its ethereal vibrato, is a somewhat electronic sounding instrument, well-suited to lyrics that are often little more than jotted sweet nothings. The strength of Mr. Gibb's pop lies in its seamless mixture of sweet, chromatic melody and lavish but delicate instrumentation that blurs the distinctions between synthesized and acoustic elements. The songs ''Face to Face'' (a duet with Olivia Newton-John) and ''One Night (For Lovers,'' from ''Now Voyager,'' are outstanding examples of Mr. Gibb's music at his most diaphanously lovely. ''Shatterproof,'' ''Fine Line,' and ''Temptation'' show off the more earthbound side of Mr. Gibb in tricky polyrhythmic arrangements that overlay light funk, Caribbean rhythms and electronics with grace and delicacy.

The several producers, in New York and Los Angeles, who contributed to Chaka Khan's new album, ''I Feel For You.'' all worked under the executive guidance of Arif Mardin, the arranger-producer for the Bee Gees' ''Main Course'' and Hall & Oates's ''Abandoned Luncheonette,'' both landmarks of mid-1970's blue- eyed soul. Mr. Mardin, like Quincy Jones in Los Angeles, is a pop classicist with a gift for elegant multistylistic hybrids. And ''I Feel For You'' successfully blends the jittery high energy and stuttering sound effects of hip-hop into more familiar pop-funk contexts.
The new album's title song, written by Prince and featuring a harmonica solo by Stevie Wonder, is led off by Grandmaster Melle Mel presenting the singer in a rapped introduction. And Gary Wright's ''My Love Is Alive,'' was co-produced by Mr. Mardin and John Robie with a full battery of electronic sound effects. Miss Khan's big, sassy voice is an ideal instrument for helping fuse the mainstream of pop-funk music and hip-hop because hers is a voice that has always proclaimed there should be no rules.
Miss Khan's early hits with the interracial rock group Rufus presented a singer with a tremendous raw talent and an instinctively willful and iconoclastic musical personality. Under the tutelage of Mr. Mardin, with whom she has made her last several albums, Miss Khan's flexible, vibrato-less wail was put to more sophisticated uses, from pop-gospel ballads, to be-bop extravaganzas. The quality she communicates above all is a freewheeling, unsentimental exuberance. And this attitude of fearlessness colors everything she does with freshness and urgency.
Miss Khan's voice is just the right vehicle for finding a common ground between Prince, Stevie Wonder and Grandmaster Melle Mel, each of whom represents a different aspect of American black music. With her innate sophistication and streetwise sense of fun, she ties all three strains together and, in doing so, suggests that hip-hop, like the funk and soul styles that preceded it, will be exerting an influence on pop for a long time to come.

sixers vs hawks yaaaawwwwwwwnnnn

2nd night nba season new ball rookie of the year canidate rocks a chocolate milk stash, same old suxers? sixers vs hawks tonite also tonite i started this little online diary to go back and forth through areas of interest past future pocket bikes yes punctuation (for now) not included.