I chose the song “Peculiar Mathematics” by Yasiin Gaye. Amerigo Gazaway is an emcee/dj who’s become known for his sampling. He created an album combining the music of Yasiin Bey (aka Mos Def) and Marvin Gaye, creating the artist Yasiin Gaye. Many times, samples of old favorites or lost gems give a new song the appeal they need to sell. The familiar samples allow the audience to hear a song they might not otherwise listen to. This album, however, combines two artists whose music stands solidly in it’s own right, and creates a new way to enjoy both. “Peculiar Mathematics” is one of my favorite songs on the album. It also happens to directly correlate to topics we’ve discussed in class, including Erica Dawson’s book, “When Rap Spoke Straight to God.”

One of our first class discussions centered on creative copyright. Artists have always “borrowed” form other artists, be it influence or outright theft. The act has garnered both support and opposition. I think this album is a positive example of creative license. The pairing of these two artists is very complimentary, both politically minded artists from different eras, who also just make catchy/good music. The politics of it all is why I chose this song in particular. Mos Def makes many references to how the system is stacked against black Americans, and the class system in general. Marvin Gaye’s fun music behind Mos Def’s harsh analysis makes the song for me. Erica Dawson does a similar juxtaposition in her book. She uses Bible references with her own work to turn her story all at once empowering and vulnerable. It doesn’t seem like the Bible would lend to this, at least for me, but she seems to marry it in a way that works as well as this collab. Both tackle the systems set up against them, whether it be the color of their skin, or for Erica, her sex.

I chose “Fell on Black Days,’ but to be honest, I think I could have easily chosen “Black Hole Sun,” or something by Stone Temple Pilots or Smashing Pumpkins. For me, there’s something about that time in music that really connected. Maybe it was because my brother loved Nirvana and Pearl Jam, so I always heard it around the house, or because it was moody right along with me, or maybe even something as simple as it being a trend. Whatever the reason, I never get tired of it.

Recently, I had been listening a lot to 60s and 70s R&B (The Miracles, The Spinners, Sam Cooke, etc), when I heard about Chris Cornell’s passing. Then it hit me. There’s nothing quite like rediscovering music you forgot- music that you listened to so much that you had to stop before you completely ruined it. All at once, I remembered why and how much I loved it. I had Soundgarden, Temple of the Dog, and Audioslave playing in the house for at least a month after. I think I chose this song because it’s one I always come back to. I always enjoyed the play in these lyrics, but mostly I think I just really love his voice. In a genre where vocalists can start to sound the same, he really had a particular sound. Even now, the lyrics “How would I know, that this could be my fate?” make me stop and think about things. It definitely felt more dramatic as a kid than it does now, but there’s a lot of truth in it.

I think we all go through those rough patches in our teens, and find a few songs that make us feel like somebody gets it. They probably help us navigate those years better than most other things. “Fell on Black Days” was that kind of song for me. I was a little too serious, and at times a little too sad, and I think it gave me something to relate to. It also gave me something to help identify what I wasn’t. I didn’t like boy bands, or z100. We liked musicians that played instruments. We were a grunge/rock house, even though in reality, we were an everything house- expect for boy bands, of course.