while you were having fun

While we were playing drunk Scrabble (see left), and it seemed everyone in my life that I cared about was having a good time (for once), one of my favorite musicians died in his sleep. Chris was out with soemone he loves at Big D's, Christy was watching zombie movies with old friends, my best friend Bill was on my couch reading my copy of "Black Hole," in short, there was peace in the fucking valley.

R.I.P. James Yancey, aka Jay Dee of Slum Village/The Ummah/J Dilla, easily the greatest hip-hop producer of all goddamn time.


His new album, "Donuts," just dropped on Stone's Throw records. I will be reviewing it on this site as soon as I can. I have been listening to it almost constantly - if there is any justice in the universe, this album (which is absolutely mind-bending, a frenetic cut-and-paste assault of jazz, sould, and old school hip-hop) will get its due.

Fuck, I'm so pissed. To quote the most talented person I know:

"Why Jay Dee? Why not Slim Thug? Fucking Chingy will live to be a hundred and ten on some vampire shit." - Gamma Pro

For those interested, Yancey died in his sleep of kidney failure. He was 32. He had recently been performing live, against doctor's orders, in a wheelchair. The reason he cited for endangering his life for the sake of his music was just simple love of his art. Family and friends say he frequently would spend 48-hour periods in his basement, making music, without even coming up to eat.

Here's the Pitchfork review of "Donuts."

Listen to streaming audio from "Donuts" at Rolling Stone.