The Art of Sampling: Borrowing or Reinventing
I remember the first time I really heard a sample. Not just listened to it, but understood what was happening. A few years back, a good friend played me the song "Welcome to the Show" by J Dilla. It had this groove that felt both familiar and fresh. And then it hit me—that snippet in the background? I recognized it. It was "When I Die" by Motherlode. I didn’t even know what sampling was then, but I was fascinated. How could something old feel so new? That’s when I fell down the sampling rabbit hole.
At its core, sampling is about taking fragments of existing music and transforming them into something new. Imagine you’re making a collage. You cut out pieces from different magazines—maybe a headline here, a photo there—and arrange them to create an entirely new image. That’s what sampling does with sound. It’s not about copying; it’s about reimagining and making something your own. And when done right, it’s magic. However, as sampling has grown in complexity, so has the surrounding debate. Is it theft or art? Legal or illegal? Ethical or exploitative? These questions have been buzzing around since the early days of hip-hop, and they’re not going away anytime soon.
Let’s talk about some of the legends, J Dilla and Madlib—these guys didn’t just sample music; they elevated it into an art form. They weren’t just digging through crates of records for the hits everyone knew. They searched through dusty vinyl in thrift shops and obscure corners of the world, looking for fresh and untapped sounds. Take Dilla, for example. His album Donuts is a masterclass in sampling. He took pieces of soul, jazz, and funk—sometimes just a few seconds long—and chopped, rearranged, and layered them into something entirely new. One of my favorite tracks, "Don’t Cry," flips The Escorts’ "I Can’t Stand (To See You Cry)" into a soulful loop that hits you right in the chest. It’s not just about the sample itself but how he manipulated it—changing the pitch, messing with the tempo, adding his signature swing— creating something that felt alive. Conversely, Madlib has a knack for finding sounds in places you’d never think to look. His work on Madvillainy with MF DOOM is packed with samples that range from Brazilian psych-rock to 70s cartoon soundtracks. Madlib is known for digging into unknown, enigmatic records and pulling out sounds that feel unexpected and perfect, stitching them seamlessly into his tracks.
Sampling has shaped entire genres, especially hip-hop. While the technique existed in various forms before hip-hop, it was the genre that truly brought it to the forefront and defined its modern usage. Back in the early 70s, DJs like Kool Herc pioneered a new sound at parties in the Bronx. He'd spin funk and soul records, but instead of just playing them through, he'd focus on the "breaks," those instrumental sections where the rhythm took center stage. Kool Herc kept the energy high and the crowd moving by looping these breaks. This practice, known as "breakbeat DJing," laid the foundation for what would eventually evolve into modern sampling. Think of Herb Alpert’s "Rise," which provided the backbone for The Notorious B.I.G.'s "Hypnotize," or Chic’s "Good Times," whose bassline powered The Sugarhill Gang’s "Rapper’s Delight." Then there’s Lou Reed’s "Walk on the Wild Side," flipped into A Tribe Called Quest’s "Can I Kick It?" These tracks weren’t just hits, but blueprints for how hip-hop could repurpose existing music to create something fresh.
Of course, with all this borrowing comes a lot of legal baggage. In the early days, sampling was uncharted territory —producers grabbed what they wanted without worrying too much about copyright. However, as hip-hop exploded in popularity, lawsuits started rolling in. One of the most famous cases was when Biz Markie sampled Gilbert O’Sullivan’s "Alone Again (Naturally)" without permission. The court ruled against Biz, and suddenly, sampling without clearance became a legal minefield. This shift forced producers to get creative. Some, like Dilla and Madlib, leaned into more obscure samples, figuring that lesser-known tracks were less likely to attract legal attention. Others started using digital tools to manipulate samples beyond recognition, further blurring the lines even. But, the ethics of sampling go beyond just legality. There’s a whole debate about how fair it is to profit off someone else’s work. Some argue that sampling is a form of homage, a way to keep older music alive and introduce it to new audiences. Others see it as exploitation, especially when the original artists aren’t credited or compensated properly.
Fast forward to today, and sampling has entered a whole new era. With digital sampling software, producers can access an endless library of sounds at their fingertips. Several platforms offer royalty-free samples, making creating music without legal headaches easier than ever. But this convenience comes with its own set of questions. When everyone has access to the same sounds, does it dilute the creativity? And then there’s AI-generated music, pushing the boundaries even further. AI can now analyze thousands of songs and generate new compositions that mimic different styles. But is that still sampling, or is it something else entirely? And what does it mean for the future of music when machines can replicate human creativity? Despite all these changes, the heart of sampling remains the same: discovery and transformation. Personally, the samples that pull from the unexpected and turn into something you’d never expect are my favorites.
So, where is sampling headed? As technology evolves, the lines between original creation and borrowed sound will only blur. At its core, sampling has never just been about recycling—it's about reinvention. Sampling is about digging through the past, finding something overlooked, and making it hit differently. The thrill of discovery, the art of reshaping, the moment when an old sound finds new meaning—that’s what keeps sampling alive. And as long as producers are willing to search, whether in dusty record bins or deep in the Internet’s archives, there will always be something ready for transformation.
Strike Out,
Writer: Kayla Perez-Fontaine
Editor: Dani Hernandez
Graphic Designer: Ryan Hanak
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