modern funk

Off season, but on track: Autumn In June

Off season, but on track: Autumn In June

In the tabloid imagination, the underprivileged are depicted as degenerates. Ghetto inhabitants are lazy and stupid. Crips and Bloods are sociopaths and junkies are two-legged invertebrates. Reality isn’t so monochrome. Every shooter, look-out, corner boy and Capo is a breathing contradiction. Gangsters can be articulate, complex and emotional. Autumn in June adds to the alternate reality.

Despite sharing Ice Cube’s proving grounds and dabbling in hip-hop, he’s more Morrissey than Mack 10. “When I was younger, everybody tries to box you, especially when you come from certain places. Once you start letting that get to you, that shit is miserable. It’s the worst thing ever.” A Phil Collins stan, Autumn grips synthesizer not Glock. When friends repped the set, he hustled studio time, even working out of a trap house on unused equipment. The Mexican American produced for Suga Free as a teenager, but accelerated toward a synth highway.

Wishing to keep personal and musical tangents separate, Autumn’s true name is unknown. He focuses on art, rather than earthly details. The wistful singer’s identity is cloaked under a haze of Daft Punk, Prince and a little Depeche Mode. Debut Magenta is equal measures love lost and carnality. Narcotic episodes are recalled under neon afterglow and music to step to. This ying and yang is deliberate.

“The songwriter part of my brain is a sad soul, it’s very personal, but the producer side of me, I love happy melodies. I love to make that type of music and they both connect.” A capable beat-smith, Autumn traverses electronica’s borders, delving into new wave on “Starlight” and channeling Nile Rodgers’ boogie licks on “I Guess It’s Cool To Be Lonely.” He flexes production dexterity across 12 tracks, dabbling in trap, dance and mild dubstep. For those recoiling at the latter, these trials are a brief foray rather than seismic bass wobble. Standout tunes invoke moonman Giorgio Moroder’s Italo disco, launching into space bound synths. “Cocaine 80s” and “You’re A Model Too” mesh danceable robot-rock with moody reflection.

The 20 something fully composed, performed and engineered Magneta, opting for totalitarian approach. “The album is 100% for me. I don’t usually make music for people, I make it for myself and that’s the only way to stay true to it.” Raised in the streets, yet undefined by his past, Autumn’s odes oppose hood stereotypes. Once again, 2Pac’s message is proven true, thugs get lonely too.

People from rough areas are usually portrayed as hardened gangstas. Someone such as yourself show there’s diversity everywhere.

It’s crazy, a lot of media portrays that. Guys need to be tough, when they need to be tough, but people are real people. Criminals are seen as the worst thing ever, but it’s rarely like that. Some people have their good days and their goofy sides. I’ve known friends that are super goofy and love to be playing, but when it comes down to it they turn up and they get with it. I guess there’s a certain thing that a lot of people think because you’re from a certain area, you’re all violent and extra out there. But I feel like everybody in their own mind, not everybody is just angry like all the time. It’s human nature that people look to have fun and they do things they enjoy. There’s obviously people here and there, but that’s in every community, even in rich communities, there’s people that just love violence.  

B Bravo - Nights (Feel Like Getting Down)



Just a little one for Passionweiss.

As per usual, modern funk authority B. Bravo combines old and new to form a potent dance elixir that makes involuntary toe-tapping a certainty. The L.A. beat architect appeared on Salva’s Peacemaker project along with partner Teeko last year and welds the vocoder like few other boogie cyborgs can.

“Nights (Feel Like Getting Down)” is a tribute to Billy Ocean’s classic disco floor filler and keeps the vibe going over thirty years after the original. During my interview with B. Bravo last year, he co-opted Dam Funk’s mission to uplift people with funk rather than chase success and this track doesn’t deviate from the game-plan. Synths, talk-box and drums, B. Bravo keeps it simple because when you’ve got interplanetary vibes this strong you don’t dare mess with the groove. A free download to celebrate his upcoming Europe mini-tour, this belongs in your playlist next to Zapp’s finest.

B. Bravo Interview


Originally published on Myspace

Conjuring images of smoky discothèques, groovy roller discos and uninhibited dance-offs, this L.A. producer with a rich musical background creates undeniable boogie jams.

NAME: B. Bravo

HOMETOWN: Monterey, Calif.

HOMEBASE: Los Angeles, Calif.

B. Bravo's cosmic grooves and talk-box experimentation push the boundaries of funk while spreading the positive vibes of a far from gone genre. The LA based producer's natural progression toward intergalactic tunes was partly stimulated by the G-Funk sound of 90s rap and he continues to be inspired by the forefathers of funk. Bravo has graced Red Bull's Music Academy and he keeps busy working with production partner Teeko as well as playing sax and keys in San Francisco band Bayonics.




What drew you to funk music?

I remember going to the Monterey Jazz Festival when I was a kid in school and Tower of Power were playing there. The reason they stood out to me was that they were so different than all the other acts. Everybody was sitting down for the other performances. They [Tower of Power] were just like this powerhouse and they had this horn section with a driving beat. Everybody just jumped on their feet and started dancing. It was an instant reaction, everybody was dancing even like the security guard. I remember seeing my friend's dad just dancing and smiling. I was just like "wow what is this? This is crazy." I was like "what are these sounds?" Just the feeling and the energy they created was totally different so that was one of my first experiences seeing it live.

Have you played with any of your personal funk heroes?

Years ago, back in the Bay Area, my band Bayonics were playing on KPFA Radio in Berkeley. George Clinton came in the studio with his bass player named Thumpasauras Rex. We got a chance to meet George and talk with him, and we ended up jamming all together in the studio. That was pretty epic; this must have been in probably 2005. It was pretty crazy, the whole time we were kind of looking at each other like, "Woah man. This is insane." I remember he had the thickest, manliest hands I'd ever shook, it was like grabbing on a tree branch or something.

A large part of classic funk and soul music was related to the struggles of Black America. Did you find it hard to relate to that growing up?

Myself growing up, I wasn't necessarily from a poor family. My dad was actually from a really poor family in Japan, so he basically came to the States with nothing in the late 70s and so through his stories I've known a lot of that- the struggle of making your own way and being your own man. The area that I grew up in was definitely working class, but I think it's a universal message. Funk music was originally made by people in the struggle, whether it would be race, economics or class.



Do you see funk regaining the same relevance it had in the '70s and '80s?

I mean a lot of people are like, "Oh you guys are bringing back funk. It's a like dead genre." I don't really see that. It transcends through a lot of different genres to me. I don't know whether there's going to be top 40 funk songs or not. I'm not sure if that's where it's heading, but I don't think that's really the aim. The aim is to spread the message to people. We're not trying to make pop music. We're trying to make music that will touch people and uplift people, give them something they need in the world that they're not really getting from other sources.

You've collaborated with Salva and released music under his label, how did that happen?

He's the one that really got me started releasing music as a solo artist. We met at this regular job in software. This was in about 2007. He hired me to work for him and on my resume it said I had an interest in music and DJing. We got to talking and we were listening to each other's music. He was like, "I want to create a label and release some music; do you want to do something?" So I put together an EP and that was kind of my first solo release. That's what started everything for me. He's right here in L.A. so we've been working on stuff together and that's my main man.