Dakah Is Orchestrating a Diverse Hip-Hop Movement

If you asked why 46 widely diverse L.A. musicians come together to play in the Dakah Hip-Hop Orchestra, you’d probably get different answers from every player, singer and MC involved.

But it all comes down to the hip-hop principle of “dropping science”--that is, demonstrating skills without hesitation.

“When this man points to you, you have to come in and drop it right there on the spot,” says vocalist Juliana Jai, extending her arm toward conductor, principal composer and baritone saxophonist Geoff “Double-G” Gallegos.

The first time Jai, 26, went to see Dakah, she expected simply to watch. But when she greeted Gallegos, he promptly put her in the lineup. “He looked at me like, ‘You’re a real artist, aren’t you?’” says Jai, laughing.

That incident captures the spirit of a group that evokes such genre-blending artists as Sun Ra and Duke Ellington as it fuses jazz freedom, classical discipline and hip-hop spontaneity in a sprawling, rhythmic wash of strings, horns, reeds, percussion, turntables, scat-like vocals and rapping.

Encouraged by such peers as Philadelphia-based hip-hop group the Roots, Dakah has been gaining momentum through broad exposure in diverse arenas, including recent pack-’em-in residencies at the Conga Room and Atlas (where it plays Wednesday nights this month), and a well-received appearance at last summer’s UCLA Jazz Fest. Its admirers include personalities as diverse as musician-producer Jon Brion and Backstreet Boy Kevin Richardson.

Despite the enthusiasm of participants and observers, it took perseverance to get Dakah going. The name was first used for a 13-piece ensemble performing at LunaPark in 1998, Gallegos says, “but after that it was dead for a while,” mostly because the logistics proved daunting.

Dakah had 23 members when it debuted in November 1999 at Santa Monica’s Temple Bar, the group’s chief supporter and incubator. A 41-piece Dakah made a live recording to sell at shows. The ranks swelled to 46 regulars last summer. But it uses its original practice space in downtown L.A., so the sections rehearse in shifts.

The lineup changes whenever smaller groups peel off to tour with such artists as Macy Gray and Nikka Costa or to focus on their own bands, including Black Eyed Peas and Flowerchild.

Keeping the orchestra rolling can be an arduous undertaking. There are money worries, although Dakah is now officially recognized by the Assn. of California Symphony Orchestras and is eligible for grants and other financial help.

But Gallegos’ joking mantra--”We need a manager!”--is only partly in jest. By default he’s responsible for spreading the word about gigs and other developments to Dakah’s members, who live in a far-flung area from Altadena to Santa Monica to East L.A. (The U.S. mail works best.)

But it’s hard to beat being amid this many-headed beast that, with Gallegos leading, becomes a single-minded behemoth spinning out danceable, thought-provoking grooves.

The players are just beginning to grasp the possibilities, on one hand hoping simply to make a proper studio recording but also, Gallegos says, aspiring to “take the whole entourage and plop down in Paris for a while, find a place to play three or four times a week.”

Gallegos dreamed of putting together a hip-hop big band about eight years ago, while living in Denver and performing occasionally with the Colorado Symphony. He was motivated partly by the early ‘90s recordings of New York acid-jazz players Groove Collective as well as by the Denver club So What, where musicians were encouraged to sit in with the deejays.

A fan of jazz composer and bassist Charles Mingus as well as of composer Igor Stravinsky, Gallegos didn’t see his dream take shape until he moved to Los Angeles, where he and other co-founders, including bassist-composer Kaveh Rastegar, could plumb a deeper pool of talent.

Linked by the improvisational thread at the core of their respective styles, the professional musicians in Dakah share a strong mutual sense of purpose. Whether rigorously trained or self-taught, all are committed to expanding both listeners’ and their own understanding of music in general, and hip-hop in particular.

Despite the effect hip-hop has had on music and culture, its popular image still tends toward gangsta rap’s unimaginative paeans to money, sex and possessions.

But Jai and the other Dakah MCs are more in tune with conscious hip-hop a la the Roots. In a way, Dakah is a vindication of hip-hop, at least for those who believed its popularity would foster a decreased appreciation for musicality and instrumentation.

In Dakah, performing ability is paramount. The group’s name is derived from a Ghanaian word that aptly represents the orchestra’s microcosm. “It’s a theory of societal organization,” says Gallegos, who attended Berklee College of Music in Boston.

“You assess each individual’s talent and put them in the corresponding spot. Each instrument is important to our overall sound, so you have to respect a viola the same as a drum kit or a harp or a vocalist.”

Meanwhile, notes Jai, “People were complaining about the materialism in hip-hop and the lack of live organic music in Los Angeles. A lot of musicians were really hungry to do something that meant a little bit more than how many people you can draw [to a show].”

She considers Dakah a bracing antidote to all-too-typical rap methods. “What we’re doing is way more hip-hop than what any keep-it-real kid with a drum machine can do,” she says.

Dakah plays today, next Wednesday and Nov. 28 at Atlas, 3760 Wilshire Blvd., L.A., 10:30 p.m $12. (213) 380-8400.