Well, it's the autotune basically. The 1st chapter is about how Kartel triumphed in the Gully vs Gaza war, and was the first artist to channel rage and mania through autotune to turn himself into a Godlike figure. It sets up the whole book.classic, but how is that neon screams territory? I like that era of Kartel as well but that's very much in the 00s dancehall lineage.
The book is about the voice, primarily
The argument is its a new paradigm - now its the voice where the big innovations are taking place.
It's quite possible he hasn't been following algerian rai since 2005, I agree, but the book is about trap, dancehall and drill.
These effects flow from her masterful use of a technique called melisma. Technically speaking, melisma occurs when vocalists use melodic embellishment to extend a single syllable. Emotionally, it’s something else entirely, a mode of expression that bucks against the very limits of language. Indeed, the crushing power of “I Will Always Love You,” its meaning in sound, results from how Houston’s melisma activates a mysterious, even mystical relationship between overflowing emotion, life’s vicissitudes, and ultra precise self-control. Rather than simply sing about the bittersweet conflicts involved in saying goodbye to a lover, Houston deploys melisma to enact in sound a heart-felt struggle between holding on and letting go. Like life as it unfurls, each moment is un-anticipatable until it happens, whereupon we can’t possibly imagine it any other way.
Such is the power of melisma. The technique breathes life-flow into fixed text. Melisma is vocal embellishment’s purest form, almost always improvised and therefore rarely written down. Melisma locates meaning in the instant. It reveals to us the risk and control of a singer at her most unpredictably alive.
Melisma straddles genres and singers and nation-states. I knew it first in black American music such as R&B and gospel. It’s positively huge across the Maghreb. Bawdy folk singers, throats burned by a lifetime of whiskey. Honey-voiced Koranic reciters who “sing” the Koran magnificently yet consider all music to be sinful. It doesn’t matter who you are or what scene you’re in, you’re gonna have a tough time if your voice can’t flutter around those notes with the grace of a bird and the hairpin turns of a butterfly. Maghreb audiences of all stripes are keyed in, listening to precisely those moments when the voice glides through notes.
Melismatic vocals have formed an integral part of the sonic landscape across huge swaths of Africa, Southeast Asia, and the Middle East for centuries—public recitation of the Koran and the five-times-daily call to prayer rely heavily on the technique. If melismatic styles weren’t already widespread, they ended up that way when Islam swept in 600 years after the birth of Christ. Several musicologists assume that it’s what ushered melisma into black American church music and eventually into the bloodstream of an eleven-year-old junior gospel choir soloist named Whitney in the first place.
What does the computer think of this weightless technique of vocal gymnastics whose touch of the divine spans religions? Auto-Tune hates it. For all its algorithmic fineries, Auto-Tune cannot distinguish between world-class melismatic pitch control and off-key drunken shouting. To fix the problem of “out-of-tune vocals,” [Auto-Tune inventor] Dr. [Andy] Hildebrand had to encode into the software his beliefs about what constituted appropriate singing. Auto-Tune hears the opening section of “I Will Always Love You” as one long error in need of digital correction. And it’s not just her.
Melisma’s swoops and dives are exactly the type of melodic movement that provokes Auto-Tune into extreme corrective mode, thereby producing its most unusual sounds. This, I believe, explains the software’s mind-boggling success in North Africa. The region embraced Auto-Tune so early and so heartily because for more than a millennium audiences have been listening to—and for—those gorgeous, subtly rising and falling pitches. And they sound especially startling when processed through Auto-Tune. The familiar pitch slide gets activated by bizarre effects. A weird electronic warble embeds itself in rich, throaty glissandi. The struggle of human nuance versus digital correction is made audible, dramatized in a zone of heightened attention. Listening habits from the dawn of Islam helped Auto-Tune mean so much here.