Shadows of Tomorrow: Rhys Langston On MF DOOM's Influence & His Own Tribute "mangy velour (for DOOM)"
Honestly, it doesn't even feel like there's a proper way to elegize an eccentric and extremely talented artist such as MF DOOM, who meant so much to so many of us for so many years for so many different reasons as truly unique as DOOM himself. So, what better way to pay tribute to The Man, The Myth, THE MASK himself than by speaking to those closest to him? With a heavy heart, I proudly present Shadows of Tomorrow; a new recurring column in tribute to DOOM in an effort to re-tell the tall tales, strange stories, and lesser-known tidbits of The Metal Face Villain himself. R.I.P. Daniel "MF DOOM" Dumile Thompson.
"I remember only a few years removed from college graduation, talking to my (very smart) friend Pate after I lamented not reading enough theory to feel I could enter certain conversations (academically or on The Internet.) His response was to read at my own pace and not worry, that it was important to not get too worked up into theory, for it described phenomena, but was not phenomena itself. As pretentious as it might seem, his assurance comes to mind when I think of DOOM's influence on my music and art and what I realized upon his passing. As my style and rhymes have evolved, they've increasingly been concerned with describing phenomena, being abstract, jousting in the "meta"—if you will."
"As we know well, DOOM was a member of the late 90's and early 2000's vanguard who opened the possibility for such abstraction to be a young [emcee's] primary approach. However, he explored the abstract, the zany, and, most certainly, the whimsical in a way that never felt too far removed from the principles and pillars of Hip-Hop. It took a moment, but after beginning to process Mr. Dumile's passing, I realized how amazingly he straddled that line—that he had a leg firmly planted in tradition and, with the rest of his body, he contorted into his idiosyncratic pioneering of accessible experimentalism. I needed to write and record something to appreciate that amazing career-long feat, to tether my abstraction and eccentrism to tradition and a eulogized respect of the craft."
"In my Quarantine boredom, I was re-playing Fallout: New Vegas when I began to listen to the guys at Dad Bod Rap Pod talk to Open Mike Eagle about DOOM's legacy as a fan and collaborator. At one point, in the special episode of their podcast, Open Mike began to extoll the prolific imagination of DOOM, his unique talent for coming up with some of the wildest, though, most apt sh*t ever recorded. That sentiment quite literally caused me to put my controller down and dig through my Logic Pro Folders for an unused beat of mine. I just wanted to get some rhymes out with no immediate mind to a ceremonialized tribute. Letting my thoughts fly, I felt license to write unlimited non-sequiturs, daisy chain internal rhymes to the point of babbling, be outright silly, and consciously take part in the tradition of commenting on and explicitly broadcasting "my style.'"
"As well, of course, I had to drop some lifted bars and allusions to The Super-villain's catalog. "mangy velour" solidified as a tribute in no time, a little nod to DOOM's workman-like grandeur. In the near year of COVID listlessness, it was a rare possession. There was some spirit in me to let the free-association be unfettered and let myself come back to my fundamentals through a few "DOOM cadences." Somehow, I've never quoted DOOM as a primary influence in an interview or feature. I can now see that I might have semi-consciously thought his inclusion too obvious (or his influence not obvious enough in my work.) But, I know now I can have no doubts about his work's impact on me across all mediums I work in—for, I feel the long, warm shadow of his stature (and those of his many alter-egos.)"
- Rhys Langston (@rhyslangston)