EASE OFF OF DANGER MOUSE'S NUTS FOR A SECOND

AND GIVE CEE-LO SOME PROPS!

This is something I really need to get off my chest. Yes, I admit the Gnarls Barkley CD is very very good. For me, it's running neck-in-neck with Ghostface's Fishscale for album of the year so far. In fact, in terms of its unexpected mainstream appeal, it's perhaps the most exciting record since Speakerboxxx/The Love Below. However, I find it upsetting that the vast majority of the phenomenal media buzz has been focused on just one half of this talented duo, Brian Burton aka Danger Mouse, at the expense of his partner, the soulful visionary Cee-Lo Green.

A brief history: I first heard of the producer Danger Mouse when he teamed up with the fairly obscure MC, Jemini the Gifted One (remember "Brooklyn Kids"?), on 2003's Ghetto Pop Life. But most folks didn't know who DM was until his Internet-leaked/bootleg Grey Album, a mash-up of Jay-Z's Black Album and the Beatles' (so-called) White Album. I was curious, of course. At the time, I was loving Sean Carter's alleged career-capper, produced by Kanye, Rick Rubin, Timbaland, etc. And I had grown up with the Fab Four's sprawling masterpiece; album cuts like "Dear Prudence" and "Rocky Racoon" were close to my heart. So I picked up The Grey Album for $4 on Canal Street.

It was aiight -- some of the blends were more succesful than others. All in all, I found it interesting but gimmicky. The critics, however, ate it up. And when The Beatles' label EMI issued cease-and-desist orders to DM, he started making news headlines, too. The young producer's fame skyrocketed, far out of proportion to his experience or talent, in my opinion.

But his next effort, the Gorillaz' Demon Days, made me a believer. Some say Damon Albarn should receive most of the credit for this dazzling recording. Whatever the case may be, DM and the Blur singer created musical magic together. Along with a very diverse lineup of guests, they somehow managed to score a big hit with a very weird and very dark record that perfectly captured the times. It was one of my favorite albums of last year.

(Danger Mouse's recent collaboration with rapper MF Doom, The Mouse and the Mask, was equally bizarre, but less effective, at least for me. Don't get me wrong, I love me some Doom, but I much prefered his work with producer Madlib on Madvillainy.)

Now comes Gnarls Barkley's St. Elsewhere, which will likely be considered an even more revolutionary release, ultimately, than Demon Days. The lead single "Crazy" made musical history in the UK as the first #1 song based on downloads only, and here in the States the tune is fast becoming the "Hey Ya!" of 2006. It really is that good. It's not quite like anything you've ever heard before.

Of course, music scribes are having a field day with this ideosnycratic pop outfit and their genre-bending sound. They certainly make "good copy" with their nerdy looks and their bizarre attire (they've appeared live and for photo shoots dressed as Star Wars characters and droogs from Clockwork Orange).

Watching the excitement for Gnarls Barkley build over the last couple months, for the most part I've been happy to see good music -- forward-thinking, out-of-the-box music -- getting the notice it deserves. But at the same time, something just doesn't feel right. Part of it is my lingering distaste over the undeserved hype of The Grey Album, which would have never created such a tidal wave if it hadn't touched on a familiar Baby Boomer reference point. Part of my discomfort also comes from my (admittedly elitist) conviction that the public is latching onto GB for all the wrong reasons, for the novelty factor, the silly costumes, etc. And then there is the ignorant self-satisfaction of certain Gnarls fans who don't listen to any other modern black music whatsoever (the same crowd that hates hip-hop except for the Black Eyed Peas).

But more than anything, I am resentful that GB's success doesn't seem to be translating to a breakthrough recognition of the sheer genius of Cee-Lo Green...

THE SOUL MACHINE

When my friend Eric -- a pious funkateer who worships at his personal Mt. Rushmore of James/Sly/George/Prince -- first heard the Goodie Mob member's 2002 solo debut, he declared that Cee-Lo might be "the future of the funk."* At the time, I was inclined to agree with him. At least there was no doubt in my mind that something seriously funky was being pumped into the drinking water in Atlanta. In recent years, Outkast had been stretching out into new and brilliant, stanky, psychedelic territory. And now, Goodie's rotund rapper, Cee-Lo, who had always been the standout in the group, with his spiritual lyrics and raspy hooks, had finally let loose his inner freak and created a stunning tour de force, a joyously funky Whitmanesque celebration of himself and his "perfect imperfections."

(* Today, it could probably be argued that the future of the funk lies with electro-funk troupes Platinum Pied Pipers and Sa-Ra Creative Partners, though personally I don't feel quite the same passion for these acts.)

Goodie Mob

Cee-Lo's album was a flop. Even post-Stankonia, the world wasn't ready for such experimenting and openness. But for the few who fell under Lo's spell, it changed our lives. One particular track, "Getting Grown'," about the path to maturity, has continued to serve as a sort of personal anthem for me. On paper, it sounds like pure Oprah cheesiness. But when you hear the song, you'll understand.

Alas, Cee-Lo dropped a notch in my estimation on his follow-up, Cee-Lo Green Is the Soul Machine. By any other standard, it was a wonderful, playful record. But it was a good deal less daring and more radio-friendly than its predecessor. (It did, however, feature a very strange and spellbinding, uncharacteristic DJ Premier production on "Evening News" -- check it out!)

So to get back to the subject at hand, in my opinion Gnarls Barkley is a thrilling return to form for Cee-Lo. It is quite different than his solo work, but like Perfect Imperfections, it feels like a huge breath of fresh air. And for people like me who have been championing Lo ever since I first heard his verses on Outkast's "Git Up, Git Out" and Goodie Mob's "Cell Therapy," it is satisfying to see him finally make it big.

But despite the success of Gnarls Barkley, I can't shake the feeling that for most of the audience, Cee-Lo is not the star of the show, even though he's the one behind the mic. This impression was reinforced by a huge glowing profile of Danger Mouse in New York Times Magazine (!) this past Sunday, in which music journalist and bestselling author Chuck Klosterman wrote: "Gnarls Barkley is really just one person, and that person is Burton. Cee-Lo is essential, but he's essential in the same way Diane Keaton was essential to Annie Hall." The Woody Allen reference isn't as much of a non-sequitur as it sounds. In the interview, DM himself talks about his love for the filmmaker and his desire to become a musical auteur like his idol.

Let me be clear. I don't have any beef whatsoever with Danger Mouse. I don't think describing oneself as an "auteur" is necessarily pretentious. I like that the man takes his art so seriously. And I was pleased to hear him clarify in the article that the product that made him famous, his Grey Album, was really just a throwaway, a goof that was widely misunderstood.

And I could certainly argue that the buzz over Danger Mouse's can be seen as something positive, a reflection of our distinct post-millenial musical culture. DM would never have received this kind of attention ten years ago. His popularity is a direct result of the visibility of artists like Pharrell and Kanye, who put the role of the producer in the spotlight. This has been a healthy development. It used to be that your average listener would never imagine that the singer/rapper/frontman might not be the most integral part of the overall sound.

But Cee-Lo is integral to Gnarls Barkley, and I do have a problem with Klosterman's characterization of him. Granted, it is a piece about Danger Mouse not about GB. But it is clear that the rock writer doesn't know a lot about the singer and he doesn't make much of an attempt to understand him. Bizarrely, the casual reader comes away from the article with an image of Cee-Lo as basically a thug-turned-good. While this may not be inaccurate, it is very simplistic and doesn't come close to painting a full picture of the man. Not to mention the fact that, whatever checkered past Lo may have, his colorful new-age vibe -- he wears his hippie badge proudly -- certifies him as probably one of the least thuggish individuals in the entire rap world.

But there is something more at play here than Klosterman's shoddy research and the current obsession with the producer as auteur. My impression is that the core audience for Gnarls Barkley is white hipsters who have read about the group in magazines and on websites. The truth is that these folks are more likely to relate to a geeky, light-skinned (though both his parents are black) knob-twiddler from suburban New York, who name-checks film composer Ennio Morricone, than a big, bald, tattooed gospel growler who emerged from the Dirty South rap scene. But sadly, by gravitating toward the familiar, these listeners are missing what's right in front of their noses: someone who, given the chance, could blossom into the Al Green or George Clinton of our generation.

Okay, I think I've made my point. But what is going to happen to Cee-Lo? There will definitely be another Gnarls Barkley album, according to Danger Mouse. And Cee-Lo has future projects in the works with Southern producer Jazze Pha and, most exciting to me, with Jack Splash of Plant Life, who shares Lo's penchant for freaky individualism, though of a much more self-conscious LA variety.

Jack Splash of Plant Life
While it is safe to say that, as the proverbial man of the moment, Danger Mouse's next effort (whatever it may be) will reach the ears of many, this is not necessarily the case with Cee-Lo. Gnarls Barkley has undoubtedly raised Lo's stature, but individually he has yet to approach the tipping point.

Black Thought & Danger Mouse

But what are Danger Mouse's future projects, and are they really guaranteed to be hits? One would think so. But let's take a look at what the producer has on deck. According to the Times article, "he already has plans to release albums with Black Thought from the Roots, Mark Linkous of Sparklehorse and Blur's frontman Damon Albarn."

Roots devotees like me have been hungering for a Black Thought solo joint for years. The news that he's pairing up with Danger Mouse is something of an underground hip-hop wet dream. Does this mean that the premier hip-hop band's dexterous but enigmatic MC is on the verge of stardom? Somehow I doubt it...