Hearing the voice of self-proclaimed “un-DJ” Girl
Talk (real name: Gregg Gillis) discuss his views on the legitimacy
of music sampling as a higher art form by using Ying Yang
Twins’ “Wait (The Whisper Song)” overlapped on
top of a peppy techno beat may make one skeptical, and even more so
when the song segues into the Verve’s “Bittersweet
Symphony” seconds later.
Yet this is just the beginning of a peculiar and expedient world
revolving around the importance of one musical fragment and the
multitudes of possibilities created from it.
Take Gillis’ voice itself, for example; one would expect
the strained tones of someone speaking through solid gold grills,
or perhaps the acid-jeans whisper of a remiss punk rocker, or even
the easily agreeable voice of a bubblegum pop singer. Anything in
tune with the pop-culture regurgitation represented by the dozens
of genre-spanning samples littering his music, which he will bring
to the Echo on Saturday night.
Instead, Gillis, who works a part-time day job in Philadelphia
during the week and plays shows on weekends, has as much of a level
tone as one would expect from an avant-savant who turned a rising
demand for ADD remixes into MTV afterparties for Paris Hilton and
50 Cent.
Though the ostentatious blending of such opposing forces as the
dirtiest of sex-oriented hip-hop and a pleasant folk melody may
appear a wry attempt at grabbing attention, it is actually the
final iteration of a lifetime of interest in what he calls
“tape collaging, sampling, and the noise/experimental
movement.”
“To me, the foundation of music, the foundation of art
even, is sampling,” Gillis said. “Ideas building upon
themselves, be them small or big, from any live band, any original
instrumentation.”
Reworking and blending beats live, whether in front of an
underground crowd of raving fans holding up signs such as
“Girl Talk! Masturbated on stage” or on a larger scale
alongside the likes of Kanye West, is the one artistic constant
that has allowed Gillis to maintain an original position as creator
against a thousand warring sound bites.
“I want to create music that has its own identity, so
ideally I want you to hear a song and recognize its familiar
elements, but simultaneously you’re like, “˜that’s
a Girl Talk beat,'” Gillis said.
Though Gillis’ newest album, “Night Ripper,”
has instantly been touted by Pitchfork Media and other critical
institutions as the apex of the quickly emerging genre of the
mash-up, Gillis is uncomfortable with the newfound
characterization.
“I think mash-ups, or at least the phrase
“˜mash-ups’ as a whole just jumped to popularity and
already peaked out,” he said.
Straying from the sometimes droning and headache-inducing
qualities of mainstay rave DJs, Gillis’ music instead
directly satisfies the need for constant stimulation in an audience
with a microscopic attention span.
“The aesthetic preference is to get things as quickly
edited as possible. Very quick, everything’s moving very
quick. It’s all about how many samples you can cram in.
It’s about precision and mathematical calculations.”
Gillis said.
Though this may sound like an immobilizing activity,
Gillis’ deft manipulation of his laptop happens amidst pelvic
gyrations and an onslaught of fans collectively trying to leap on
stage. The cramming of sold-out crowds into 200- to 400-person
capacity club spaces also assists the easiness of proximity.
Saturday’s show at the Echo should be no exception.
“I try to break down the barriers and interact with the
crowd as much as possible,” Gillis said.
While encouraging everything from clothing removal to drinks
being poured on him, he still manages to hit the crowd with the
instant gratification of his ready-made samples.
But for Gillis, it’s the crowd that adds the final
ingredient to his deftly baked sonic-layer cake.
“I like it when people get comfortable to the point where
it’s like I’m their best friend, where they could just
come up and do whatever they want to me,” Gillis said.