Also this issue: Review: Anner Bylsma -Peter Burwasser Bella Morte -Helen Thompson Dave Burrell -Kyle Parker Ladytron -Paul Burress Four Tenors -Kyle Parker The Blood Brothers -A.D. Amorosi The Post -A.D. Amorosi Joe McPhee/William Parker/ Harold Smith -Kyle Parker

February 13-19, 2003

music

Mount Vernon Blues

FREE SAMPLES: “I love when I get asked where I got a sample from,” says J. Smooth (right). “I say, ‘I played that shit live! Come on now!’”

Label hassles and sonic shifts can’t stop GFS Productions from duly appointed drum and bass rounds.

by A.D. Amorosi

In 1995, Justin Geller and Joe Candidi -- JG and J. Smooth -- started a reign of jungle terror. The duo, friends from grade school in New Jersey, used the moniker GFS, first for their high school funk band, then for DJ'ing gigs, the odd mixtape and a label that branded all that they created as D&B's most innovative work. Their jazzy, hard-dark funk -- from 1996's "Teck 2 Ya Neck" to 1999's synth-laden "Titanium" -- caught the attention of Warner Bros., who signed the duo to their F-111 label for artist CDs, mix comps and solo stuff. The whole tamale.

It sounded like a beautiful story, but the tale wasn't finished yet. GFS has had more label-oriented ups and downs than Courtney Love and Geffen. That Geller and Candidi stayed best buds and released a fresh future-forward-funk debut CD, Mount Vernon Street (Sound Gizmo), says as much about them as people and artists as it does the freaky-deaky noise they've made since they were kids.

From their home in West Philly, JG, 27, and Smooth, 24, laugh at their career's persistent rollercoastering. Most electronic music has a short shelf life. But Mount Vernon proves that great ideas and great songs are eternal, as so many of these tracks are from GFS' earliest days. "I remember JG hanging around taping everything with his video camera," says Smooth about day one, initiating a band with his brother (hardcore bassist Mark from Transmagetti) that JG would soon join. "JG and I weren't that close until we got to talking about how we both liked a band called They Might Be Giants."

"I remember harassing him about him liking hair metal," says JG of his first impressions of Smooth. "C'mon, he was in eighth grade, I was in high school. I had to pick on him."

While maintaining a (teasing, respectful) friendship still apparent today, GFS moved from being a rock trio to a raw funk instrumental quintet whose detailed rhythmic parts complemented the whole. "The harder edge of GFS is still in the D&B and hip-hop elements of our production," says Smooth.

JG speaks proudly of their live sound then to now. "We made tapes and gave copies to everyone we knew in high school. I swear to God, even now, the stuff we did then kicks the ass of any of the radio crap they try to pass off as rock now. It's funny, but with Joe and I as the core, all we want to do is be that band again. We're getting there."

Fast forward. Together or alone, they hung in Philly. They studied at Drexel where they had an indie punk label with Laris Kreslins of Sound Collector magazine. Worked at 611. Spun at Konkrete Jungle. Made tracks with a computer, a sampler and an old Korg M1, as well as self-distributing their own gaggle of mixtapes, all with funny covers.

"People loved those tapes," says JG. "We only distributed stuff as ŒGFS Productions' because we didn't think anybody else would." Going to raves in '93 and '94, they met other electronic music people, former punks and hardcore kids. "Being Œsocial butterflies,' so to speak, is how people came to remember our faces," says Smooth. People came to know their music, too: J. Smooth's "Future Funk" and "Check The Vibe," JG's "Change" and "Spy Hunter," GFS' "The Player," "Titanium" and "Space Funk." Their music was distinct and powerful, funky and epic.

"When people came to get a taste of the music we were portraying, the sound seemed to stick in their heads without knowing that it was our style," says Smooth of an aesthetic still true through today. Only now, GFS' production -- still a hyper mishmash of jungle and hip-hop -- is better, bolder and diverse, ripe with more live instrumentation and imaginative jazz passages than the mid-'90s joints that caught Warner/F-111's ear.

These days they write stuff that's more song-oriented and shorter; eight-minute-long dance mixes are three-minute songs now. "And there's less sampling," says Smooth. "I still like a good sample but we found quickly we could write Œoriginal' samples instead of using someone's. I love when I get asked where I got a sample from. I say, ŒI played that shit live! Come on now!' or ŒThat's my friend singing that vocal hook.'"

But in 1998, their melting-metal jungle-jazz -- before they released a single as GFS -- pricked up the ears of Warner Bros.' Andrew Goldstone, who heard Smooth open for Crystal Method. After that it was many dinners and many contracts -- all protracted over time. "It took a year for them to finalize our contract, and then a year to drop us," says JG, who states the main reason they got signed was due to curiosity. "It had nothing to do with our own sales. The main reason we were spotted was because of Joe. When I asked them later on why they signed us, they told me Œbecause they saw our potential.'"

Tension over that? A little. JG states, "I think I was a little jealous of Joe when he really started to take off DJ-wise. But I had to realize I had talents too. I've been recognized in my own right and I'm cool with that. GFS is kinda where we meet in the middle."

"Look, I'm in the spotlight right now because of DJ'ing," says Smooth. "The album and the live performance aspect will clear those assumptions up."

"It felt good being signed to the label of Bugs Bunny," says Smooth. "We were one of few producers in jungle approached by a major label, if any, around this time. There was jealousy from other artists who felt that they should've been the ones chosen and not us." They got to travel the world over, spin at the Goodwill Games in NYC and The Summer X Games. But despite handing Warner Bros. an artist CD and a mix CD, nothing got released. Except them. When Warner got a new A&R honcho, David Kahne, the house-cleaning began. It was a purging that saw many a new artist back at square one. "When he asked us to send him a CD of our demos, we started making our backup plans right away," says JG.

"We didn't lose anything because of the record deal falling through," says Smooth. "We also didn't gain much except advertisement and press. And we still owned our music. That was a plus in our eyes." Still, missing out on the peak of jungle's popularity couldn't be good. Tensions had broken between all the U.K. and U.S. drum and bass heads. Remixes were becoming transcontinental. And though the duo were in the remix thick if it, valuable moments had been lost.

Sound Gizmo -- the label that had actually put out the very first GFS single -- "Beatbox Funk Session" backed with "Closure" -- came quickly to the rescue. Well, sorta quickly. Gizmo had signed their own distribution deal with Ryko that took longer to work out than GFS believed possible. Says JG, sighing, "The Ryko deal, uh, took a few years longer than we all thought. But, here we are now." Mount Vernon -- in nearly the same form it was under the F-111 banner -- is out and the duo itself is still together.

"We just didn't want to drag things out anymore," says Smooth, who says GFS' next CD (which is nearly finished) will contain the live band vibe and variety they're currently fusing.

"We shortened the songs to make them more album-friendly and picked the songs we thought stood the test of time; that were good enough not to get old in a month like other jungle stuff does," says JG.

The first GFS band effort, "The Player" ("hasn't changed at all since we wrote it," says JG), the emotional "Regret," the gnarly guitar and slap-bass appeal of "Pimpin' Ain't Easy" ("like when John Travolta is kicking his serious strut in Saturday Night Fever," says Smooth) -- all make Mount Vernon a startlingly tenacious debut. From here out, the duo will continue with fresh ears and eyes on labels 611 (with Nigel Richards and a team of drum and bass producers like Kaos, DJ Sine and IXIS), Slick (what JG calls an "organic funk" label) and Argento (a home for dark tech-y futurist stuff) are flourishing.

While they winnow down the hundred or so songs they've recorded since Mount Vernon for a next CD more on the female R&B vocal tip, with locals Aubrey and Brodie Budd as well as trip-hoptress Esthero, JG prepares a down-tempo album with GFS' saxophone/Fender Rhodes player Billy Blaise as Mokita, as well as preparing a house 12-inch with Carl Michaels.

The two no longer live in the house on 16th and Mount Vernon where their debut was recorded. "That place had lots of culture and real-life people -- a year-round party on the street," says Smooth. "You always hear music coming from somewhere, whether it's music from cars or people in the streets. It was a bit intimidating for people who didn't live there and came to visit. You were able to see what really goes on in the inner city."

"Sixteenth was such a cool little barrio block," says JG. "Pig roasts in the middle of the sidewalk, late night dominoes matches, salsa blaring till 2 a.m. Funny thing is, by the time MVS came out, we had already moved to West Philly. So no, we're not naming our next album ŒSpringfield Ave.'"