Just a week ago I was lucky enough to catch the Warren G and DJ Quik show at the North Park Observatory. The hook was that they were performing the Regulate... G-Funk Era and Quik Is The Name records, respectively. I meant to get to this sooner on here for a few quick words, but the week ended up bearing down on me before I could get any thoughts down on (virtual) paper.
Of the two performances, Warren G's show was more the walk down memory lane, but that's no bad thing in the case of a record that so well encapsulates a particular time and place. There was certainly a lot of love in the room, audience and stage locked together in a groove. The crowd seemed to know all the words to the record, and G could get a sing-along together at the drop of a hat. He even delved into some extra goodies like In Da Club and The Next Episode (in honor of one Nate Dogg). Closing out the set with Regulate (which opens the original LP) took the show to it's peak: this was the moment the crowd had been waiting for.
This is a tune that really caught me out when I first heard it on the radio all those years ago, seeming to offer a glimpse into vast corridors of shimmering jazz funk that I was only partially aware of at the time. I remember hearing the original Michael McDonald tune on a smooth jazz station around the same time up in the mountains, with the typical surprise that accompanies the recognition of a sample from an unlikely source.
As Warren G closed out his performance of Regulate, a small figure strolled out across the stage and started to work an Emu SP-1200 that had been sitting lonely at the center of the stage. Within moments of G's closing remarks, DJ Quik started rocking the mic and his set jumped off. If Warren G's show had largely been an exercise in nostalgia, DJ Quik's was another matter altogether. This man on stage could have been nineteen, so alive was the musical force he was turning out in the club. The energy level in the venue seemed to triple instantly behind his music's steady bounce, even as some who had come for the earlier set started to trickle toward the exits. Those that remained were ready for Quik to turn this mutha out...
The set was built around his debut LP, Quik Is The Name, but stretched out to include plenty of later material. There was this amazing song that I didn't recognize, built around a slow motion rhythm matrix and bleep loops that recalled the output of early Warp Records. Quik stalked the stage with an ice cold nonchalance, flowing on the mic as easy as breathing: the man's game hasn't slowed down one bit.
Quik mentioned that he lost his original masters of the entire Quik Is The Name record at one point (in the late nineties, if memory serves), and had to rebuild everything from scratch. In some cases, having been in the game longer and acquiring more experience in the studio, he was able to improve on the original and get the sound he was really after. Tha Bombudd, in particular, stood out as a highlight of the show, whereas on the record it always seemed like he was having a bit of a laugh.
The consummate perfectionist throughout, Quik tweaked knobs and punched drums on the fly, getting everything to sound just right. He'd tell the engineer to turn his mic down 20%. The sound itself was stunning: skull snapping snare drums, deep kicks to the chest and endless, rolling bass, pouring crystal clear from the Observatory's massive soundsystem. Even as he worked the machines and checked the engineers, he kept things loose onstage. This was a funk show, no question: we were witness to a stripped down, street-ready descendant of Parliament and Zapp in action.
Back in the day, Quik's Tonite was my first exposure to Kleeer at a time when Jammin' z90 was caning The Isley Brother's Between The Sheets and One Way's Cutie Pie in regular rotation between Snoop Doggy Dogg's Gin And Juice and Ice Cube's It Was A Good Day. At the time, I'd assumed these were new songs, so well did they fit with the nascent g-funk sound of the day. This is in large part due to the way large swathes of west coast hip hop sprung directly from that electrofunk continuum, and DJ Quik probably remains the closest in spirit to that original bedrock foundation in sound.
Catching him live, it hit me just how much this music had tuned me into a very specific frequency back in the day, preparing me for where I was headed a few years down the road. Far from being dulled by the passage of time, the music and the man remain sharp and on the edge (where they need to be), keeping that vibe alive and well in the 21st century. DJ Quik came to turn this mutha out... and turn it out he did.