Who invented turntable scratching

Traditionally the role of the DJ was to play records on the turntable, mixing in one track after the other. The emergence of a new music genre, hip hop, produced DJs who were significantly more skilled. These DJs — or turntablists, as they came to be known — were performers and musical artists in their own right who moved records whilst playing on the turntable to manipulate the sound and create original compositions.

Through practice they developed extremely high levels of hand eye co-ordination and an uncanny ability to find precise points in a song by dropping the needle on a record. Two copies of the same record are put on the decks, and the mixer switches between them, creating a rhythmic beat by looping the breaks. Inspired by Herc, Bambaataa expanded awareness of break-beat deejaying through his famous street parties.

He discovered the technique by accident as he stopped the record with his hand to hear what his mother was shouting out to him. The needle, or stylus, is made of hard precious stone, and records are made of plastic. These stones are harder than the plastic, so they can withstand the rigors of an uneven surface. But that pop you hear when the needle traces its way over a scratch is enough to stop your heart.

To be sure, the sound of vinyl carries additional warmth when recorded through analog rather than digital technology. Richness refers to the diversity of auditory aspects heard in vinyl records. Because of record grooves, the sound of vinyl is more open, allowing a greater quantity of features to be heard. This would include most flat shellac records, with the exception of some early Edison and Pathe discs, which used a vertical cutting method.

The short answer is, yes they can. Some cheaper turntables feature a low-quality stylus that might last only 40 playing hours and can start damaging your records. Scratching has existed for as long as there have been phonographs, a by-product of the stylus following the grooves on a record. It would take nearly a century before it was fully realised, thanks to a teenage Bronx DJ by the name of Theodore Livingston.

As legend has it, sometime in Theodore inadvertently heard himself scratch on his home system after his mother had asked him to turn the music down else she turn it off. If it did, the first articles would focus on records: how to dig for them, how to mix them up, and how to extract the break. Theodore scratched the fourth article into the constitution while no one was looking.

The itch was spreading from its Bronx birthplace, confusing some while intriguing others. The turntable, still barely thought of as an instrument, had made the band. On stage at the Grammy Awards, D. ST scratched while Hancock played the Clavitar. Three pairs of disembodied legs danced above them. This was a vision of the future, beamed into thousands of homes where kids sat mesmerised by the sight and sound of scratching together.

The record was a promotional tool paid for by a French radio station ahead of the first European hip-hop tour. Most people assumed that Freddy was the voice behind the sentence, but history is tricky.

It was recorded on a whim during a late night in the studio. Trilling was clowning a record executive from Elektra known to utter the sentence when he liked a song. ST took the joke and performed a solo for the ages with it. The sound of thousands of crossfaders being furiously manhandled in the name of artistry all thanks to a French radio company, an American recording executive, and a vocoder. It states that you can battle with words, legs, spray cans, and records. In the early s the concept was refined into a performance with judges and rules, the necessary cornerstones for a pantheon of winners and losers.

True to its name, the first DMC battle was all about mixing. The NMS ended its battles in At the same time the DMC was gaining in popularity with competitions that often walked a fine line between concentrated displays of musical skills and circus acts — DJ David snatched the title by finishing his routine with a handstand on the right turntable.

The enduring success of established competitions like the DMC — which turns 30 this year — spawned hundreds of copycat events with music equipment shops, magazines, and manufacturers all offering bedroom hermits a chance to step out into the real world. Battles were sometimes brilliant, often awkward, but they did foster a sense of community, however warped. While early events like the NMS had offered a stepping stone for some towards a musical career — touring, recording — by the late s battling had become an end in itself with time constraints favouring technical intricacies over musical expression, leaving the average spectator confused and forcing DJs to substitute skill for showmanship.

Will Smith, aka The Fresh Prince, is absent from the cover of his debut album. As hip-hop expanded throughout the s, the MC became a more viable alternative for those seeking to capitalise on the music. The commercialisation of hip-hop challenged its unwritten constitution, and while some tried to fight back, the industry ultimately won. By the early s, the musical contributions of DJs were subsumed into the role of the producer and their presence on stage replaced by machines.

New York birthed the scratch. Philadelphia improved it. And San Francisco took it to places no one had imagined.