Oct. 7, 1582: Because of the institution of the Gregorian Calendar, Oct. 7 is skipped in Italy, Spain, Poland and Portugal.
Oct. 7, 1763: George III issues the Royal Proclamation of 1763, which forbade colonists to settle past a line along the Appalachian Mountains.
Oct. 7, 1955: Allen Ginsberg performs “Howl” at the Six Gallery in San Francisco. “Howl” proves to be one of the most galvanizing poems ever written/performed.
Oct. 7, 1968: Thom Yorke of Radiohead is born.
Oct. 7, 1997: The Velvet Rope by Janet Jackson is released.
I have a friend who once described what Janet Jackson did with The Velvet Rope and why it’s one of his favorite albums: “Basically Janet accidentally made a trip-hop album and it’s good, yo.”
The veracity of that statement has been hitherto untested by me, for two reasons.
One, I don’t have a good idea of what trip-hop sounds like. Or what it should sound like. Sure, you’ve got Tricky and Massive Attack (Tricky’s old band) and Portishead regularly cropping up as trip-hop’s invested representatives, who I’ve sampled and who I’ve heard on the radio. But I don’t get the aesthetic behind them, I guess.
Two, I don’t listen to Janet Jackson. In fact, the Jacksons’ oeuvre (Janet, Michael, Jermaine, Randy, etc.) have never cropped up as “Must Listens” in my circle. Not even Thriller or Off the Wall. Most of it comes down to this point: I never needed to listen to them because everyone else already was listening in. You can’t talk “Greatest Albums” without bringing up Thriller or “Greatest Performers” without bringing up Michael.
Janet Jackson, of course, is pretty well ingrained in the cultural memory of anyone old enough to remember Super Bowl XXXVIII. Yeesh. But that’s a cheap (and irrelevant) reason to write her off.
So, having cleared the air, let’s get right into The Velvet Rope.
Since I still haven’t settled on a clear definition of trip-hop, let’s start there. In general, trip-hop places emphasis on bass and drums, with samples that eschew instruments like guitar and the aforementioned bass and drums in lieu of things like flutes and electric piano. “Cinematic,” as a general dark/ruminative feel, comes to mind.
The Velvet Rope certainly feels cinematic, but it’s more documentary than movie. The accepted impetus behind the album is in documenting Jackson’s struggles with depression. In fact, of the 22 songs, seven are small sound bite “Interludes.” Are they autobiographical? Are they—explicitly—Janet Jackson coming through the music to make a personal statement?
It’s easy to assume the answer is yes. Some don’t cover depression, like “Interlude: Fasten Your Seatbelts” or “Interlude: Speaker Phone.” But the depressive ones are pretty clear cut. Take “Interlude: Memory” for instance: “You don’t have to hold onto the pain/To hold onto the memory.” Or “Interlude: Sad:” “There’s nothing more depressing/Than having everything and still feeling sad/We must learn to water our spiritual garden.”
Like any consummate performer, Jackson waters her garden through music. And what a garden it is! On the whole, it’s rhythm and blues and pop, with plenty of other genres thriving as well. Getting back to trip hop, “You” is my personal candidate for The Velvet Rope’s most explicit exercise in the matter. “What About” veers between lagoonal guitar pop and dark funk rock. “Special” clocks out as a seven-minute homily on—what else—specialness.
By far my favorite moment on The Velvet Rope is “Got ‘Til It’s Gone.” The “Big Yellow Taxi” hook is indelible, plucked from its ecocritical context and fitted into a breakup one. The whole track is well produced. Q-Tip in particular is a national treasure. “Joni Mitchell never lies” might be my new favorite line from any pop song ever.
I can say, before now, I would have been ill equipped to deal with The Velvet Rope. It hasn’t charmed its way into my list of favorites, but (favorably) it made me drop my guard.
Other albums released this day: Transatlanticism by Death Cab for Cutie (2003), Dire Straits by Dire Straits (1978), Full Circle by Hieroglyphics (2003).
Want to coach Sean on the particulars of trip-hop as a genre? Send him an email at sreichard@wisc.edu.
