Wake up, babe. Band's plan is back.

That's right, your favorite extremely long music podcast has returned,

and this season, we're talking grudge.

As usual, there's goss, there's tea, there's an excessive amount of facts and info, and you know what?

There's nine hours on a band that rhymes with Schmurlshmam, plus much, much more.

Listen to new episodes of bandsplaying with me Yossi Solak every Thursday.

From Spotify and the Ringer, this is Dissect, long-form musical analysis broken into short digestible episodes.

This is episode 5 of our season-long dissection of M.F. Doom.

I'm your host, Cole Kishna. Last Last time on Dissect, we analyzed the literary achievement of Mad Villainies Meat Crinder,

where M. F. Doom puts on a lyrical masterclass over Mad Lib's quirky psychedelic production.

Meatgrinder was then followed by Bistro, an interlude that frames the Mad villainy album as a live performance

at a jazz lounge where Doom and Mad Lib offer us the finest of the finer things. Now as Mad villainy Vystrel,

Cafe Nels on the water.

Now as Madvillany continues, Doom and Mad Lib extend the conceptual framework of

Bistro by subtly emphasizing live performance

in their next number, the subject of the first half of our episode today, RAID. Ray's introduction we just heard is an excerpt of jazz pianist Bill Evans 1968

rendition of the tune Nardis originally written by Miles Davis. Now cleverly, the Bill Evans recording is a live performance from the Monthra Jazz Festival,

and so it seems that Mad Lib and Doom have intentionally used a live jazz sample to seamlessly transition from their own live jazz lounge setting in Bistro.

The Bill Evans sample isn't altered for Rade's intro,

but the way Mad Lib transitions from this sample

into the track's main beat is pretty ingenious.

Let's hear that transition, then we'll discuss exactly why it works so well. Now the primary sample used to create this beat comes from the 1972 song America Latina by Osmar Molito is a Brazilian artist and his record Silva

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