Monday, 14 January 2008

Wiley - Where's Wiley?



Wiley - Where's Wiley?

Aside from the overt parallels to the classic children's book series 'Where's Wally?' (bumbaclart bad man) the phrase 'Where's Wiley?', the title of the 'hidden' track on Wiley's 2007 opus 'Playtime is Over' is significant on quite a few levels. The first and most obvious is that it's an instrumental track, the only one on the album, thus 'Where's Wiley?' is the first question you ask as his mc-ing becomes conspicuous by its absence.

Secondly, of course, is the fact that 'Where's Wiley?' is a question asked countless times throughout his career by journalists, djs, photographers, ravers, fellow mcs, people sat on their sofa watching Saturday morning music chart shows, video directors, etc. confounded by Wiley's disregard for the laws of time, geography and contractual obligation. The photo above is of Wiley arriving so late for Roll Deep's 'When I'm 'Ere' video shoot (which was the first single off their first major label album (well... it was on Relentless Records)) that he almost missed it completely. When Roll Deep had a No. 11 smash with 'The Avenue', a song that Wiley not only produced but also rapped first on, he didn't even bother showing up for the resulting desultory Top of the Pops and CD:UK appearances. When Mike Skinner arranged a meeting to offer him £50,ooo to sign to The Beats, I expect you can guess what happened then too. Wiley even had the chutzpah to use his own limitless propensity for lateness/no-shows to diss Ghetto in their epic, unfinished war of 2006:

'We all know that you are harder to market than me... and i don't even turn up!' -

Wiley - '6 Minute Dub (Nightbus)'

To hear Wiley tell it this is just one facet of his complex character:

'There's a time and a place for everything,
sometimes I don't wanna do anything,
I just sit in my yard and watch Sky Digital,
I don't wanna do anything'
- Wiley - 'Time And A Place'

and of course, to simply focus on his lateness is to be misled (which may of course be his intention, for instance many have postulated that his habit of no-showing at Roll Deep-related events was a deliberate strategy to force other members of the crew to step up to the plate in his absence and prepare for a time when he was no longer involved). Firstly, if it's that important, he'll probably be there (eventually), as evidenced by his pirate radio appearance record. Secondly, to judge an artist like Wiley on something as facetious as whether he turns up on time for interviews or video-shoots or even raves is to focus on trivia rather than substance, Wiley understands that first is forever and that his importance to grime and to music history rests on something far more significant than his timekeeping:

'Wiley won't turn up,
Wiley don't turn up,
I burn energy everyday in my scene,
so what? i don't kiss arse at 1Xtra,
they wanna act like I don't rep for the scene' - Wiley - 'Crossfire Snippet'

Finally, in an age of scrubbed, castrated pop-rock eunuchs Wiley's talent for undoing the best-laid plans of Mikes and men together with the fact that he appears to treat with contempt the fame-grasping niceties that most musicians are content to happily deep-throat (despite such activities' inevitable negative correlatory effect upon their art) is a happy dose of anarchy in today's music industry.

Plus, as anyone who works or socialises with me knows, I share a penchant for inexcusable lateness with the Eskiboy (I swear there's some sort of time portal in my bedroom). It's not easy living your life 45 minutes behind the rest of the world:

'cos time don't work with me,
I'm chasin' time everyday of the week,
tryin' to be on time everyday of the week,
and I'm ALWAYS late' - Wiley - Roll Deep - 'Had Me Convinced (Unreleased)'

ANYWAY, BACK TO THE MUSIC. I see 'Where's Wiley?' as a final 'fuck you' statement at the end of 'Playtime Is Over'. A message to anyone doubting Wiley's production ability; him saying 'my beats are so far ahead that I'm going to take my heaviest, most avant-garde production and hide it on the end of my album... and I'm not gonna bother to spit on it either'. And he doesn't need to because it's utterly monolithic on its own. Those shimmering syths, that murderous, slimy, slitering bassline when the beat breaks down, that brief, fleeting moment when the tempo shifts to 4/4, the in-human robotic sheen to the whole production, like Wiley nipped to Paris and teefed Daft Punk's helmets and is currently rolling around Bow in the silver one with 'Suck Ur Mum' scrolling across the screen. In many ways this piece of music sits most comfortably alongside all that exciting, atonal, uncategorisable, dance music being produced by acts like Justice, SebastiAn, Mr. Oizo, Puzique, Steed Lord, D.I.M., Danger and Kavinsky (to name-drop a few), yet Wiley has equalled them at their own game without trying or even being aware that he's doing so.

Of course, the final irony to all this is that as thrilling as this beat is as an instrumental I would quite happily give £50,000 of my own money to Wiley to simply hear him vocal it. Similar to his epochal 'Ice Rink' it's a riddim that requires all out attack and some serious skills, but he wouldn't have made it if he didn't think he could handle it would he?

laters, X

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