A Vivid Chapter in Hip-Hop History

Doug Pray’s “Scratch” does what a fine documentary does best: It extends a warm invitation into an unfamiliar world, then illuminates it fully and allows the larger implications of the journey to sink in unobtrusively. In this instance, the world is that of hip-hop, and its people are so likable and what they have to say so worthwhile that they can be said to raise consciousness not only in regard to their music, but also how it has affected their lives and those of their fans all over the country.

Pray begins at the real beginning by introducing us to the still-young man who calls himself GrandWizzard Theodore. He is acknowledged as the inventor, back in the ‘70s, of “scratching” a record by moving it back and forth on the turntable and in the process giving this backward sound a new, percussive, rhythmic personality. As Naut Humon, co-founder of Asphodel Records, points out, the listener now could become a participant in the music he was listening to. We learn that scratching caught on fast with DJs, who worked with rap artists, generally referred to as MCs. When rappers started getting record deals, the DJs were left behind, only to emerge eventually with their own recordings.

The DJ phenomenon has now spread so wide that musical equipment stores are complaining that the twin turntables and fader systems needed for scratching are outselling guitars. Stashes of vinyl suitable for scratching have become critically important, and access to old records and the ability to select the best ones for effective reworking are virtually as crucial to a successful DJ as his style and scratching technique. Some DJs, such as the seminal Qbert and his mentor, Mix Master Mike, are virtuosos who can transform a couple of turntables, some old vinyl and a fader into an exciting electronic instrument of seemingly infinite possibilities. Indeed, some DJs speak of scratching as a new language.

One of the film’s key figures is Afrika Bambaataa, who in 1973 founded the Universal Zulu Nation in the South Bronx, where he became a DJ and worked to bring together graffiti artists, DJs, MCs and other street performers to create a positive alternative to gang life. Bambaataa is credited as having the greatest influence in shaping the culture of hip-hop. (Some DJs perform while a graffiti artist works on stage.) What is so encouraging about hip-hop is that it is all-inclusive and generous in spirit. Mix Master Mike says that by encouraging Qbert, he in turn was able to learn from his protege, who in turn has become a role model for young Filipino Americans. Scratching is easy to do, and kids in San Francisco’s Haight-Ashbury district can enroll in an after-school program in scratching at Amoeba Records (which has a store in Hollywood).

At the very end of the highly entertaining and encouraging documentary, GrandWizzard Theodore good-naturedly wishes that every DJ would send him a dollar for every CD they sell, which reminds us that hip-hop has after all become a lucrative endeavor. Theodore’s words have a familiar ring: Edward G. Robinson wished that every time a viewer watched one of his old movies on TV, he or she would send him a dollar too.

MPAA rating: R, for language. Times guidelines: The four-letter words are fairly infrequent, and the film is otherwise ideal for youngsters.

‘Scratch’

A Palm Pictures presentation. Director-editor Doug Pray. Producers Brad Blondheim, Ernest Meza. Executive producers Allen Hughes and Albert Hughes. Cinematographer Robert Bennett. Music supervisors Carol Sue Baker and Jonathan Hafter. Story structure Brad Blondheim. Creative advisor Grand Mixer DXT. Running time: 1 hour, 28 minutes.

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