Austerity Measures

"Money's a real pain in the ass." -David Nath, circa 2010

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I was pretty lucky to not have to worry about money growing up.  Even in college, when tuition was ridiculous and everyone was talking about work-study and FAFSA forms, I got off scott-free. I still feel a little embarrassed that it was relatively easy for me, and I remember silently telling some of my friends who asked me about how to fill out student loan forms that, "erm....I'm actually...not on financial aid."

Well, as many things do in life, it caught up to me.

When I moved to New York in 2008, I don't think I ever had a grasp of how expensive things can be. Especially in Manhattan, where the average rent is now hovering around 3,200 dollars per month. Only hedgefund managers or celebrities can afford certain neighborhoods in Tribeca these days. And the food? As great as it is, a lesser person would faint at the sight of a normal lunch bill in Midtown.

So, like many other New Yorkers, I learned my lesson and moved to an outer borough. I was done living in a shoebox and hyperventilating whenever the check came. I needed a sudden jolt of reality. And more space. Oh, yeah, and Dave. :)

But...I was still running into some major financial issues, and living essentially paycheck to paycheck. It seemed to me as if it happened "all of a sudden," but once I crunched the numbers, I realized just how lean my wallet had become. More embarrassingly, the reason my situation didn't seem as dire in Manhattan was because I was still charging many of my purchases on my parents' joint American Express card. Clothes, yoga classes, cabs and other "luxuries" went on it, and at the time I wasn't too ashamed about it. But eventually, in an attempt to legitimize myself as an actual, self-sufficient twenty-something, I let my card expire and have now been living completely unassisted for about a year and a half. All the same stuff, all on my own dime. Add in rent, plus evenings out, plus clothes, plus yoga and S Factor .. and something had to give.

Ok, ok, I know what you're thinking: "I totally don't feel sorry for you! You had it really great for such a long time and shouldn't be complaining! You're almost as bad as the rest of those privileged 20-somethings you criticize all the time!"

And you know what? You're absolutely right.

This is something that's been long overdue for me for a number of reasons: one, I'm not that organized, two, sometimes I deny the existence of my problems and think they'll just "go away" on their own, and three, I was educated badly with regards to finances.

Did anyone who wasn't an Economics or Finance major in college ever take an entry-level course that actually made sense? Of course not. Chances are, you took Macroeconomics and studied the supply and demand of some made-up widget company, then applied those principles to the GDP of Europe...or the US...or China .. or... whatever. There was no class on "how to balance your checkbook" or, "how you piss away money every month if you have credit card debt." Since my parents are also not the most organized people in the world (runs in the family...except for my brother, who's so organized he must be an adopted mutant), they never really taught me much about it until I opened up my own checking account at the West Hartford Bank of America in 2006. And even then, I'm sorry to say, I didn't know much about credit cards and debt. The only thing I knew was to keep my "credit score" low. But even that was an abstract hypothetical I pledged would never happen to me.

So now, with the help of two VERY organized people, I have this thing called a "budget." And, supposedly, if I stick to it, I can obliterate my credit card debt in several months. But I got to stick to it.

That's right, fellow 20-somethings. This is a really, really important point for all of us: we gotta stick to it. If we want to reach our 30s with any shred of integrity or self-control, in finances, careers, or just...life.. we can't give up or give in. If we keep at it, we'll be better equipped to handle the real big-ticket items, like marriage and kids and buying property and all that. Those privileged 20-somethings living on trust funds, rent-free in the same outer borough I call home? It'll catch up to them eventually. 

Just as long as I keep crunching the numbers, they should add up.

Piazza Folklore, Father's Day Edition

I feel sorry for those people who feel embarrassed by members of their family.

Remember how I said Baby Boomers were responsible for many of our current societal flaws? Well, that's mainly true...but much like the Twist, hippie twirls, acid trips, wife-swapping, and the Hustle, Baby Boomers can also inject a whole lotta fun into the world.

Case in point: parenting strategies. I'm sure previous generations had "kooky," "zany" or "off-the-wall" antics performed by adults, but only the Baby Boomers were able to take it into the mainstream. Stories about my grandmother were legendary, but stories about my mom's past, present and future? Let's just say I have enough material for an anthology.

There was a time in my angst-riddled teenage years where I found Mom's spontaneous singing and dancing...and Dad's oddball sayings and mannerisms embarrassing. But as I have meandered through my 20s, these moments remind me of a relatively happy childhood where I completely understand why I am the way that I am.


In honor of Father's Day, and of Baby Boomer parents everywhere, I give you John Piazza's Greatest Hits (or, the hits I can remember at least).


Potent Quotables:


"Joy, there's only one lesson you gotta remember. No one likes crazy people."
-circa 1999


"Listen. If it's not chocolate, it's not dessert. I'm not going to Pinkberry."
-circa 2009, after telling Dad Pinkberry didn't make a chocolate flavor


Dad: I don't understand Yanni's popularity.
Mom: Well I heard somewhere some fans of his like...thinks he has the power to heal. They listen to his music and are cured of diseases and stuff.
Dad: Oh, great. It's nice to know God has come back in the form of a bad piano player.


"Oooh. Flounder!"
-Repeatedly mimicking a kid in some Mrs. Dash commercial, circa 2002


Anecdotes:


Circa 1994: The Piazzas take a trip to California to visit the West Coast relatives. At San Francisco International Airport, Dad tries to find the rental car drop-off area. After driving once....twice...THREE TIMES around the ENTIRE TERMINAL, things get desperate:


Mom: John, we're miles from Hertz!
Dad: Shhhh hold on! I think I found it.


(sharp right turn)


Dad: Look! There's someone! I should tell him I'm a Preferred Customer because then we get the discount.


(speeds up to about 50 miles per hour, slows down within 5 feet of random airport worker - NOT Hertz worker - at a parking lot gate)


Mom: Is this Hertz?
Dad: Yes, Marilyn! One second.


(pulls over to random employee)


Dad: Excuse me? Excuse me? I have a car! I'M PREFERRED!


Circa January 1997: The Piazzas are on the USAir (or, "Useless Air") flight from LaGuardia Airport to Piedmont Triad International Airport. Upon boarding, Mom realizes the four of us aren't sitting together.


Mom: John, you didn't book these seats together?
Dad: (pause). No...
Mom: You booked last-minute, didn't you?
Dad: No...not really. I did this on purpose.
Mom: Oh, really? And why is that?
Dad: Well...this way....we all have an aisle seat. We'll all be more comfortable!

March 2005, on I-95 near Cape Canaveral, Florida

Me: Did we just pass another Denny's?

Dad: Yeah. We did! There's been a Denny's at every exit since Jacksonville.

Me: Wow.

Dad: Yeah. People here sure like their Denny's. Is it the sun? Or is it Florida?

June 2005 in Fort Lauderdale, Florida

(After the first tropical storm of the season. Dad knocks on the door to my apartment.)

Me: (opens door) Hey Dad!

Dad: (leaning on doorframe, drenched, with 30 MPH winds and rain behind him). I want you to remember this moment...and remember that I loved you enough to fly through a Monsoon to help you with the drive back home.


Circa 2009, at the Piazza Manhattan digs.


Mom (to me): Honey, do you want to see a movie tomorrow?
Me: Yeah! Maybe the new one with Robert DeNiro? A 7 o'clock show?
Mom: John, you wanna join us here?
Dad (staring at the TV): I have my show at 9 tomorrow. Gotta be home for Moonlight.

Circa 2010, at same apartment.

Dad: Joy! I wanna play you something.
Me: Yeah?
Dad (sits down at piano, plays lounge-ified version of "Take Five"): Pretty good, huh?
Me: Um, yeah! You're timing is a little off and too loungey..
Dad: What? I'm great! I'm getting better. I've really hit a breakthrough. I could take this on the road. "Traveling businessman!" (snaps fingers).

Great album covers in R&B history

This post is long, long overdue, mainly because I think about this topic often.

One of the plights of our generation and the consequences of instant information is that the concept of the "album cover" doesn't really exist. Back in the Baby Boomer days of LP vinyl, the cover was a big part of the musical experience. An album cover could tell a story, convey a meaning, or simply show off an artist's talent, sexual desires or physique. I would argue that it's one of few yet important things our parents' generation has given us that we have made worse (but, my friends, that is another post for another time).

Since I have been collecting records, I've come to appreciate a well done album cover. Of course, you have your classics (The White Album, Abbey Road, Dark Side of the Moon, The Stranger, Songs in the Key of Life, etc.), but sometimes the obscure and the obscene resonate the most. It's a crapshoot as to whether the songs on the offbeat covers are superior (even though, in most cases, they're not). But I think they are just as worthy in a collection than the obvious choices. After fanning through my own collection, records or otherwise, I've compiled a little list of my own favorites from my favorite genre, 1960's and 1970's R&B. What's the point of all of this? That, again, is another post for another time. :)

Veiled Sexuality, i.e. "Hey Baby, I Got What You Need"

Barry White's 1973 masterpiece leaves certain things to the imagination, but not much. His intention is pretty clear in this one - despite the fact he's oribiting space. This is the album containing White's epic 8-minute version of "Never, Never Gonna Give You Up." The best part about the long version? If you listen closely, at the very end of the track, someone in the studio screams, "whoo!" - as if the song is so powerful and so sexy, there's no recourse but to let it all out. Orgasmic? You betcha.

Let's also not forget Tom Brock, White's protege whose "There's Nothing in This World That Can Stop Me From Loving You" flew undetected in the mid-1970s...that is, until Jay-Z used a sample for "Girls, Girls, Girls:"

You can tell these guys had similar approaches with their look, their sound, and...their, erm, whoopee.

Overt Sexuality, i.e., Blame the Sexual Revolution

There's one pretty dated, pretty disturbing and pretty consistent theme to the album covers above and the ones below: women as objects. Whereas the ones above portray women as things a man has to "woo," 'impress" or "catch," the below ones treat women as prey. To our credit, women were able to parlay this objectification into equal rights, somewhat equal pay and a generation-long conversation about breaking down traditional gender roles. But if these album covers proved to be the fallout...well...at least we know how we got from this to "Girls Gone Wild."

The largest offenders? The Ohio Players. I've never bought one of their records due to principle, and I'm not quite sure I ever will. Let me show you what I mean:

I think you guys get the idea.

It makes me wonder: what was the real impetus behind these album covers? History would have us believe it was one more defiant act promoting sexual liberation, but if I had to pick the brain of any one of the Ohio Players, I bet they would tell me, "because they were hot, and we wanted to sell a lot of records." According to album cover folklore, the model in the "Honey" cover actually got STUCK TO THE FLOOR during the photo shoot.

Although, before you people write me off as some angry post-Steinem neo-feminist, these don't necessarily make me want to cover them up a-la Two Virgins. If you forget one second about the present, the future, the band's true intent or the fact that people were frequenting places like Plato's Retreat, I have a sneaking suspicion these women would say they agreed to it because it made them feel empowered and sexy....as if their mere presence could stop a man in his tracks and drive him wild with desire. It's much like the euphoric, invincible feeling professional strippers say they achieve when dancing (or so I've heard).

Plays on Words

This was a trend first discovered by my friend Elaine, and since then I've found a couple examples myself. It's a clever way to sell albums, and the covers themselves are so dated, they're laughable.

The Symbolic

Like that famous Dan Brown novel, when something might seem simple or commonplace on the surface, chances are it might represent something entirely different. Such is the case, I argue, with some R&B album covers. As complex as the St. Sulpice or the New Testament, one wonders what could possibly be the message behind Earth, Wind and Fire's succession of symbolic and cosmic covers:

ADDED BONUS: Inside/liner notes of I am:

Someone on an R&B message board theorized that the band was part of some Black Egyptian freemasonic order. Maybe so....but if their lyrics for "Spirit" is any indication, they were pretty big hippies: "Many years has passed and a day still we walk/in a path that leads to the light/shining down on this great beyond/thoughts ignite us, let love unite us."

Look at me!

And what kind of collection would be complete without those artists that put themselves in sexy, funny, or different settings? Isaac Hayes, I'm talking to you:

And while we're on the subject...Parliament Funkadelic, you have some 'splainin' to do:

Well, there you have it. A wonderfully hot, awesomely irreverent and fabulously colorful collection of funk and R&B album covers that never fail to put a smile on my face. The next time you stare at that little box on your iPod that's supposed to show you the album cover for a certain song, at least you'll be able to appreciate how much better it would look as an LP.

Year One

365 days ago, my life changed.



Yeah, I know. That sounds really melodramatic. But, it's true. Exactly one year ago, September 28th, I packed up my boxy, red Volvo and, with two friends in the backseat, drove the 2 and a half hours from West Hartford, Connecticut to New York City. I knew when I was doing it that it would me a major and permanent life change, and I knew I would never actively seek out Connecticut as a "place to live" again. Living in Hartford taught me a lot about myself, but living in New York is making me reexamine myself. I want to be the best I can possibly be, whereas in Hartford I was coasting along and expecting any self-realization to come easy and quickly. As a fellow 20-something, it's tough to know the difference between the two, but, in the past 12 months, I think I've figured it out (to some extent at least).


So, here's what I've learned, what I've observed, and what I still need to work on. Hopefully you'll either, laugh, cry, nod in agreement, or scream, "WOW! Thank you for saying that! I totally agree!"


The Dream:

According to those who know me the best (parents, brother, best friends), I was never a "country girl," despite growing up in the southeast. I rejected a lot of aspects about living in North Carolina, mainly because the roots my family had in the New York area were just ... better. Thrilling. Exciting. Sexy. Always changing and never stagnant. One time, when I was in high school, I was trying to get to a cast party held at our theater teacher's house. She lived in Lewisville, North Carolina, the middle of nowhere, off of a long country road that wasn't really labeled too well. I had the directions in my hand (this was before GPS, iPhones, Google, etc), and was listening to my favorite Jamiroquai CD when I got abysmally lost. Like, not just "took a wrong turn" - I ended up in a different county. Once I saw that "Welcome to Davie County" sign, I called the house.



"Hey Joy!" One of my friends/fellow cast members answered.


"Hey, so I'm lost. I can't find the friggin' street sign! There are no streetlights! I think I ended up in Davie County...."


A pause.



"Umm...hold on. Here's Mrs. Lawson." As the phone changed hands, I heard my friend (let's call her "Lorey," because she was, in fact, Lorey in the show) say, "Joy got lost guys! She says she can't find the street sign!"


Another girl (we'll call her, Dancer 1) then says, "Joy can't do country roads I guess!"



Then "Lorey" says, "actually, Joy can't do country anything!"


I heard this story retold when I finally got there. I laughed pretty hard, then nodded in agreement.


The Reality:

It took me until September 28, 2008 to make the "dream" a "reality." I put that in quotes because there were times where moving to New York wasn't my Ultimate Dream. For instance, when I lived in New York for three months in 2005, I hated it. I had little to no friends in town, and (rightfully so) missed Joe, who was doing an internship in Boston that summer. But, then again, I was only there for three months, and I never anticipated having to "work" at it. Because, let's face it, if you have a goal, why would you need to work to make it right? Doesn't it just happen automatically? Well, in my world, I thought so, but after graduating and living in a fairly marginal city for two years, all those old feelings I had ever since I was 4 started to creep up again.


I had a feeling I really bored people around that time. It was all I was talking about for at least three months. I would lament about my current situation to anyone that would listen, over the phone, gchat, or any other means of communication. I would often begin sentences with, "when I move to New York, I'm going to shop at one of those specialty grocery stores instead of a big supermarket, and the clerk is going to know me on a first name basis and we're going to have this great relationship where he says, 'hey Joy! The usual this morning?' then I would say, 'Yeah Vinnie! Add some proscuitto to that, too!'"


As I look back on this time in my life, I am realizing two really important things: One, I am extremely impatient. That is, more than likely, a product of my chosen field and my bona fide, 20-something, short attention span. Secondly, for whatever the reason, I have this tendency to build up walls and control everything around me. In other words, I am a hopeless perfectionist. So whenever I would have romantic thoughts about my life and about living in New York, I knew I would have to will them to come true. Yes, I, Joy Piazza, am tempting fate, God and destiny by HAVING REALLY LARGE CAJONES AND DOING IT MYSELF! HA!


Oops. Someone forgot to tell me about how messy things can be.


I wasn't expecting the dissolve of contact from some people I left behind. I didn't bank on the feelings of "now what?" I was suddenly confronting after I sold that red Volvo. And I certainly didn't expect the loneliness.


Because perfectionists don't get lonely, right?


It's tough when you are forced to look at youself in the mirror and accept who you are. I never got a chance to do that before, because there was always a part of me attached to someone, or something, or some "dream" I needed to attain.


And in a loud, annoying, crowded city of eight million people, I think I'm getting a little closer. Whatever is waiting out there for me - whether it's an Executive Producer job, a brownstone on the Upper East Side, or a split level in Great Neck, I think I'll be ready. It might take me a while, and I might have to be (gasp!) patient...but when my "destiny" comes along, I think I'll know it. Do I have things to work on? Sure. I'm in my 20s. What the hell do I know?


But, then again, the best anyone can do is to take a deep breath, pack up the car, and drive.

The Rumor is true! The Party is back!

Yes, I know. How very "20-something" of me to leave a blog dormant for nearly a year, only to come back to it again thanks to a spark of creativity and a moment of unoccupied time! As I chalk this one up to "short attention span," "bad hours at work" (see upcoming post) and "OMG, I live in New York!" feelings, I do, interestingly enough, have a lot to say. Stay Tuned.


(PS: If anyone from Winston-Salem can pinpoint what popular local nightclub used the title of this post as a billboard slogan, you get a cookie from me!)

ADDENDUM:

After going on a run and listening to some songs on my iPod, I realized that I forgot a few fantastic examples of hip-hop samples and their original counterparts. I would also like to add that the majority of my research comes from a series of youtube videos from DJ Funktual. So thank you, Mr. Funktual, and keep groovin'! 

Without further ado, my faves ... again!

-"Nothin' But a G Thang," Dr. Dre samples "I Want'a do Something Freaky," Leon Haywood.

I honestly can't believe I forgot this one, because this is an iconic hip-hop song off of an iconic hip-hop album. Props to Dre and co. for taking a smooth, slow jam, tweaking it and inserting it into a chill West Coast rap song. Ahead of their time. WARNING: Leon Haywood's version is a little raunchy. It was the '70s, folks!

-"Regulate," Warren G. samples "I Keep Forgettin'," Michael McDonald.

This was the subject of a viral internet video series called "Yacht Rock." Basically, some fellow 20-somethings (who were also fascinated by the culture of their Baby Boomer parents) wanted to chronicle (and spoof) the inception and popularity of the late '70s, early '80s soft rock. Think later Doobie Brothers, Kenny Loggins, and more obscure bands like Ambrosia and Firefall. The 2 tracks mentioned up here are both ... well .. smooth. I'm still amazed a hip-hop song can be that smooth, yet talk about gang violence. Well done, Mr. G!

-"Still Not a Playa," Big Pun samples "A Little Bit of Love," Brenda Russell

I admire how Big Pun turned a pretty tame '80s jam into a hip hop song about being a "playa." Also, listen for the gratuitous "Uptown Baby" lyric. The only drawback to this sampling (in my eyes at least) is his lack of variety. I would have liked to hear him incorporate more of the song in his sample, because the two are so blatantly different.

-"It was a Good Day," Ice Cube, samples "Footsteps in the Dark," Isley Brothers.

The Brothers Isley are in the same position as Sly and the Family Stone when it comes to hip-hop samples: they are the "go to" artists, because they have amazing grooves, hooks, breakbeats, etc. embedded in their songs. It's like a theoretical smorgasbord with every 5- minute track (sometimes more, if you count parts 1 AND 2). I like this example because the rhymes seem to mesh with the groove ("didn't have to use my AK - today was a good day") ...

-"Hypnotize" by Notorious B.I.G. samples "Rise," Herb Alpert. 

This hip-hop/original song combo gets the award for, "Cheesiest original song turned into hottest hip-hop beat." If I had to name the grandaddy of Yacht Rock, this instrumental would definitely be in my top 5. For an added bonus, the Youtube video is PRICELESS. Just take a gander: awkward white people, dancing on the beach, offbeat clapping and gratuitous camera flashes. But then, at 3:15 - there it is! The primary sample for Biggie Smalls!

-"Summertime," DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince samples "Summer Madness," Kool and the Gang.

These guys integrated the sample so well, they actually mention it in their lyrics, too ("this is the Fresh Prince's new definition of Summer Madness"). And who wouldn't? It lends itself wonderfully to rap lyrics. They also added a little backup singing, which also would have sounded great (and applicable) in the original.

That's all I got for now. But I'm sure I'll be writing a Part 3 soon, once I find a great record store in town. :) In the meantime, if you guys have any hip-hop song you want to stump me with, bring it on, folks!

Turning over a new leaf .. or, one that sounds really familiar

One of my least favorite songs, of any genre, is "Come With Me" by Sean "Puffy" Combs (is it just Diddy now? P. Diddy? No clue). It came out back in the late '90s for the movie "Godzilla," and it doesn't take a music prodigy to figure out that he blatantly ripped off Led Zeppelin's song Kashmir . Also, I hate how he included a really good Isley Brothers song at the beginning of the music video. Blasphemy!

Now, I'm not morally opposed to hip-hop artists sampling music from other sources, but if you are going to do it, at least try to make it your own. The above video bothers me on many levels, especially since Diddy (or Puffy) tried to legitimize this song by inviting Jimmy Page to play that famous guitar riff. If you ask me, it made things even worse, because now he's just trying too hard and embarrassing himself.

Exhibit B: the "Making the Band" shows. Did you know, that last week, Diddy (Puffy... P. Diddy), broke up Danity Kane, his hand-picked girl group formulated from 2 previous seasons of the show? After 3 years of Diddy (Puffy ... etc.) training these fame-hungry, slightly talented girls for success that only he knows how, he dumps 2 of them. After a modest top 40 hit.

OMG.

Aside from Diddy's (Puffy's ... oh, screw it. You know who I mean) musical flaws, it brings up a really interesting argument: at some point, even when a new artist thinks he is the most clever, original artist on the scene, he probably gets influences from somewhere or someone. Eventually, those influences materialize themselves into becoming derivative, because over time, there is a slim chance that an artist is 100 percent original, 100 percent of the time.

So, the question is: is "originality" totally original? Or is it just re-packaging?  And, if it is re-packaging, how do you "sample" something while making it your own?

I became really interested in this subject after I decided to turn over a new leaf in my personal life. 3 weeks ago, I left my job and my life in Connecticut to pursue happiness, enlightenment, and a graduate degree in New York. I didn't have an actual plan when I moved here, but I had the desire and a semblance of a plan. Oh, and free rent thanks to my parents. 

After the first couple of weeks, I (rightfully so) went through a host of emotions. I had no regrets about the location change, but I was nervous about everything that I suddenly had to do. I left a job that "looked good on paper," and friends who I loved ..  and all of a sudden I had no income, nowhere I had to be, and no one I had to answer to (thanks to Mom and Dad's trip to Europe, no one was even at our apartment). 

Sounds great, right? Liberating, yes? And it was. But after living my entire life, up to this point, with "structure," and then having absolutely no structure, it was also extremely overwhelming.

My big problem? I wasn't "making it my own." I had all of these "original" and wonderful ideas (ie, I'm gonna join a chorale! Take improv classes! Be a yoga instructor! Train for a marathon! Get a freelance job!), but I had no clue how to reel them in and make the best of the situation. It wasn't as if I was naming things that were completely out of character; if there were resources in Connecticut for me (or if I had the desire to research them), I would have done a few of the aforementioned things. But that wasn't what I wanted to do with my time there. 

So now, I'm repackaging myself, because you can never truly "change" what you like to do and who you are. But at the same time, I'm turning over a new leaf, learning from my mistakes, acknowledging my flaws, and tapping into that "originality" I know is there somewhere. Being stuck in a rut in your 20s is a depressing reality, and sometimes it takes guts to dig yourself out. 

But to be "drastic" just for the sake of being drastic? Doing something and not making it your own? Well, then you'd be trying too hard. Like our friend Diddy/Puffy/P. Combs.

And, while we're on the subject, here are a few of my best examples of hip-hop samples (with the original song), in no particular order:

-G-Unit, "Wanna Get to Know Ya," samples "Come Live With Me," Marvin Gaye.

The only thing they stole was the "hook" in the song. Other than that, both versions are vastly different. I also appreciate the fact that they didn't speed up the track, or Marvin's voice, because you really shouldn't bastardize a Marvin Gaye song like that.

-Alicia Keys, "You Don't Know My Name," samples "Let Me Prove My Love to You," The Main Ingredient. 

The great thing about these two tracks are the vocals. The lead singer for the Main Ingredient, Cuba Gooding, Sr. (yes, he is Cuba Gooding, Jr. and Omar Gooding's dad), expertly walks that fine line between raw emotion and subtle, smooth passion. And Alicia Keys? She just kills it. 

-Jay-Z, "Party Life" samples "Get into the Party Life," Little Beaver. 

Jay-Z has the uncanny talent of sampling to not only further his own abilities as a rapper, but to also showcase the musicianship of the artists that he samples from. Where Diddy just rips off with no regard, you can tell that Jay-Z listens to the track, thinks about how to use it, and laces his rhymes throughout, in an effort to create a new sound from and old standby. Honorable mention: "Girls, Girls, Girls," from Tom Brock's "I Love You More and More."

Honorable Mention #2: "Feelin' It," from Ahmad Jamal's "Pastures."

-Lord Tariq and Peter Gunz, "Uptown Baby" samples "Black Cow," Steely Dan.

The original is from Steely Dan's album "Aja" - quite possibly their best. I'm not sure if they realized it at the time, but this hook was meant for hip-hop.

-Notorious B.I.G., "Big Poppa" samples The Isley Brothers, "Between the Sheets."

You know that song I mentioned earlier? The one in the "Come With Me" video? Well, there's a reason Puffy put it in there. Because his boy, Notorious B.I.G., sampled from it a few years earlier. The difference here is that Biggie's rhymes, and his smooth persona, are far superior to Mr. Combs.

-The Sugarhill Gang, "Rapper's Delight," samples "Good Times," Chic. 

Because there's nothing like the original.