Available on: Stones Throw 3xLP/CD

Keeping up with Madlib’s musical output is a full time occupation, and despite the fact that I’ve listened to more Otis Jackson records than I’ve had roast dinners I’m still struggling to stay on the case. The self-proclaimed “bad kid” has recently embarked on an all new episodic series of mixes, beat-tapes and mini albums entitled The Medicine Show, which have been dropping at the rate of one per month for 2010.

Volume 5 is a 54 minute collection of Madlib’s early hip-hop demos, created between 1990 and 2000, and thus a precursor to his best known work as / with Quasimoto, Jaylib and Madvillain. The History Of The Loopdigga hisses with the enveloping warmth of cassette tape, the crackle of thrift store wax and an earthy, meditative take on low end theory. Think of it as a counterpart to Mark The 45 King’s The Lost Breakbeats series or J Dilla’s Vintage Instrumentals EP on Bling 47 – what you have here is billed as “a unique view into Madlib’s working process”, early drafts and sketches which were handed out to potential collaborators of the era.

Though the press release jokingly mentions trainspotters, the whole package comes across as lovingly compiled with the obsessive collector and rap nerd in mind, right down to the blaxploitation comic book that accompanies the CD edition. From the moment we are reminded of the surgeon general’s advice on opener ‘The Warning’ through to the closing raw raps of ‘CDP assassins (pts 1 – 6)’ the history lesson is a highly enjoyable ride through the early days of a young “tascam villain” in the midst of his stylistic evolution.

It’s instantly striking how much thought and care seems to have gone into selecting this hour of loose joints. Previous episodes of the Beat Konducta beat tape series have tended towards a disjointed and madcap quality, with a Zappa-esque tendency to switch genres, change tack halfway through a tune or collapse into a fit of psychedelic audio giggles. In contrast to these disorientating works, this is arranged and mixed with a buttery smooth flow, recalling the boom-bap head-nod mixtapes of the 90s era by DJs like Rob One. The rhythm tracks swing with a feel comparable to Buckwild, DITC crew or Black Moon, taking the listener back to a period when dirty drum breaks, filtered bass lines and digging for loops were the essence of the production art in hip hop culture.

Given the age of the tracks this ought to feel outdated and nostalgic, but I was surprised at how fresh and contemporary these ideas still sound a couple of decades on. It’s generally accepted that Madlib is a surrogate father and primary influence on the free time, synth-led music of the Los Angeles underground scene of today, and this record shows you how much of that sound owes him a huge debt. The mastering is superb and really brings out the 12 bit thump and crunch of the drums. Despite the fact this was produced on equipment that is antique by modern standards, there is weight, punch and swing here which many have imitated, but few can rival with their virtual software studios of today, and ultimately much more satisfying when played at a loud volume.

Despite the comparatively polished sound of this record, there are still a couple of moments that may frustrate the armchair critics, such as a number of ridiculously dope beats that cut out after a few seconds, or the fact that none of the 34 tracks here are longer than a minute or two. But these restrictions work for the tape as a whole, and optimise it for instant iPod rewinds on should you feel short changed by a particular song. Plenty of old friends make an appearance, such as Declaime a.k.a Dudley Perkins, an early prototype incarnation of Lord Quas on ‘Further Adventures of Walkman Flavour’ and ‘Live From Outer Space’, or the extended Lootpack family on ‘CDP assassins’. And there are a ton of micro-references here which will delight old school b-boys and the aforementioned trainspotters, such as well known Madlib productions in their early or alternative form, interludes that sound like they were edited out of other releases, or raw SP1200 drum machine flips of classic hip-hop staples and favourites.

Overwhelmingly I found this a real pleasure, even a treat to listen to. All the qualities that made the beats on The Unseen and Soundpieces (by Quasimoto and Lootpack respectively) so addictive are here in large supply. What it really comes down to is the atmosphere which truly captures the imagination. A certain mood that is distilled from late night television, from exotic soundtracks, from the golden era of New York rap filtered through the soft focus lens of the Californian sunshine. The dots are joined from the oddball humour of Saturday morning cartoon, to the uncompromising brutality of psychedelic rock, from the moody restraint of European library music, to the ever-present Sativa smoke weathering the tape heads of a cassette recorder in a cramped bedroom studio.

There is an innocence about this work, and an isolation too; like much of Madlib’s best, it’s a reflective and personal journey, a diary of sketches that are now footnotes on the road to success. But despite the inherent nostalgia in such an outing, it’s a fitting and timely reminder of who the pioneers really are and what “making beats” was originally about, given the global popularity, market saturation and cultural re-branding and revival of the “experimental beat making” meme today. Throw in the fact that the limited 3xLP with silk-screened cover sold out in about 24 hours and it’s evident that this is the Madlib release many fans have been anticipating for years, more than worthy of inclusion in The Essential… Madlib and ultimately a high quality beat CD that will have even the most casual hip-hop fan nodding their head all the way through the summer.

Mr. Beatnick