When the first trailer for Baz Luhrmann's The Great Gatsby was released a year ago, it was set to the music of Jay-Z and Kanye West's "No Church in the Wild," from the sometimes duo's incredibly self-important Watch the Throne album.
On the surface it made sense. Jay-Z -- who retired as a rapper in
2003, only to re-emerge three years later as a branding mogul who raps
mainly to further his brand recognition and expand on his legacy (and
occasionally become a topic of discussion in White House press
briefings) -- has become the soundtrack for film trailers from 42 to Sex in the City 2 to Safe House to GI Joe: Retaliation to a few movies that could be listed but no one would recognize.
See also: Point: Jay-Z Sold Out Brooklyn
There's no clear beginning of this music-to-movie relationship. One could say it began with 2007's American Gangster, Jay's underwhelming post-retirement, post-Kingdom Come backlash comeback-slash-concept album.
But looking further back, there was 2004's Fade to Black concert documentary, his 2000 BackstageStreets is Watching, his loosely plotted feature film/music video compilation DVD from 1998. concert documentary and, before it all,
What made the Gatsby trailer different from everything
before it was that it was released at the height of Jay and Kanye's
griping about the gilded cages they had wrought with the fame and
fortune they've pursued with almost single-minded mastery and featured a
group of well-dressed Black folk cruising a New York City bridge in a
fancy drop top vehicle while clinking champagne glasses and wielding a
bottle of alcohol.
Set in the 1920's, it played like a science fiction or alternate
history, making a dozen statements without missing a beat. By the time
the actual boring, overblown Romain Gavras-directed video for "No
Church in the Wild" came out a few days later, it paled in comparison.
Where the video was all aesthetic and slow-motion signifiers signifying
nothing, the Gatbsy trailer was garish and raucous and vibrant and
personal and decadent and sinister. Gavras alluded to Arab springs and
London riots and civil rights battles and Occupy movements with
beautiful moving pictures, but Lurmann's trailer was all tension and
menace and masquerades of a more relatable form. For all its visual
reaching, "Church" was provocation for provocation's sake; Gatsby's
trailer was provocative because it made a book we've all read more than
once seem like a movie we had to see -- even if it's already been
translated to film four times and this one was directed by the guy who
brought us Moulin Rouge.
All this needs to be taken into account when evaluating the soundtrack for The Great Gatsby
because, despite the quaint origin story of Jay and Lurhmann meeting in
the room at the Mercer Hotel where Jay was recording "No Church in the
Wild," this soundtrack has not been advertised or talked about in terms
of art, but sheer market power: the big names, the big event, the
"executive produced by Jay-Z" of it all.
Yet, listening to the album, there seems to be a small handful of
songs (if that) that Jay himself would actually pump through his solid
rhodium Beats by Dre headphones. This is not his Made in America
festival, which he ostensibly curates with music that would be in a
playlist that actually gets used on his iPhone 7. This is not Paid in Full,
the 2002 soundtrack to the movie he produced, which highlighted the
type of music he grew up on and served as a platform for the artists on
his label. This is his minority share in the Brooklyn Nets, being
flipped for courtside seats, a box suite, 40/40 and Roc-a-Wear stores
and Ace of Spades deals in the Barclays Center. This is Business Jay.
Even the "JG" (Jay Gatsby) insignia from the movie poster is transformed
into "JZ" for the soundtrack artwork. Because he's not a business, man,
he's a logo, like the Coca-Cola script or the golden arches.