Prog Calls Hip Hop

A Love Story Told Through Samples

Hip hop producers know a good idea when they hear one. For decades, lazy music criticism has branded progressive rock as excessive and self-indulgent, but its sharp rhythmic breaks, varied atmospheres and unconventional structures make it an inexhaustible source of possible samples and interpolations. So the genre has slipped into hip hop without asking permission, and today it's one of its most recurring sampling sources, transformed and rediscovered beat after beat. You can find it in the most disparate contexts, from a chart-topping track like “Power” by Kanye West, which lifts the famous riff from “21st Century Schizoid Man” by King Crimson, to something more underground and extreme, like “Known For It” by Death Grips, which harnesses the intensity of “De Futura” by Magma. But there are hundreds of possible examples, since prog sampling in hip hop ranks second in frequency only to the genres most closely tied to the movement's Black roots: funk, soul and jazz.

Creativity, complexity and unpredictable grooves

What makes prog perfect for pillaging is its wealth of atmosphere and its tendency to isolate particularly inventive instrumental moments, whether for their virtuosic flair or their exploratory character. In “Y’All Scared” by Outkast, the watery sound feeds on the legato guitar work of “Air Born” by Camel; the ancestral trutruca horn of “Bosques virginales” by the Chilean band Los Jaivas introduces “How To Be A Carpenter” by Aesop Rock, while at the heart of “Self Hate Bad Dub” by Atmosphere lies a guitar flourish lifted from “Dancing With The Moonlit Knight” by Genesis.
Vocal textures, too, can be pushed to the fore, offsetting the naturally more monotone character of hip hop vocals: the operatic voices of “Naibu e no tsukikage” by the Japanese band Kenso color “Doja” by $not and A$ap Rocky, while the complex layering of Gentle Giant has been sampled by De La Soul, Madlib, A Tribe Called Quest, Run The Jewels and recent box-office champion Travis Scott. Even a whistle can become a key element, if it serves the right mood: that’s how Jay Dee built his feature with Phat Kat around a fife borrowed from “Will O’ The Wisp” by Steve Howe.

Another crucial aspect is the rhythmic richness that prog offers. Having developed alongside jazz-funk and fusion, prog often borrowed their rhythmic dynamism, reinterpreting it through a sharper, more rock-oriented lens. Its penchant for exploring unusual accents has made these records a goldmine of unexpected grooves, ideal for anyone looking to break out of the usual patterns. The rock-solid beat of “Memoirs Of An Officer And A Gentleman” by Emerson Lake & Palmer, taken from the much-maligned “Love Beach”, has been sampled again and again (it even turned up in a Fatboy Slim track). And the iconic shuffle of “Tom Sawyer” by Rush underpins “Mean Mean Pride” by Danny Brown.
But rhythm isn’t just about drums: no fewer than two classics of Italian hip hop from the Nineties are built around Tony Levin’s Chapman Stick in King Crimson’s “Elephant Talk”, sliced up and manipulated to add an unsettling touch to “Rigurgito antifascista” by 99 Posse and “Potere alla parola” by Frankie Hi-Nrg Mc.

An arsenal of atmospheres

The vast evocative range of progressive rock has also caught the attention of hip hop producers, who are especially keen on grabbing snippets capable of stirring rich emotions and projecting out-of-the-ordinary atmospheres. Prog’s natural affinity with the solemn and the grandiose has been widely tapped to explore grandeur in all its possible shades: the epic organs of Rick Wakeman in “Close To The Edge” and the menacing synth sound of “Evacuation” by Mike Oldfield both echo through the lopsided “Metal Gear” by Cannibal Ox; the sumptuous strings of “Mother Russia” by Renaissance, picked out by producer Rza, lend an aristocratic, melancholy touch to “Tanasia” by Nas, while El-P draws on “Tubular Bells” by Mike Oldfield for “Tuned Mass Damper” and Emerson Lake & Palmer’s “Karn Evil 9” for “Lazerface’s Warning”, not to mention his active collaboration with The Mars Volta on “Tasmanian Pain Coaster”.
The pursuit of dreamlike, surreal, suspended atmospheres intensifies once we move from pure hip hop into fields it has influenced. The enigmatic chimes of “Tribute” by Manfred Mann are put to use by Massive Attack on “Black Milk” to blend calm and unease, while the luminous gurgle that opens “The French Lesson” by Soft Machine turns up note-for-note at the start of “Between Memories” by Flying Lotus. Even the hi-tech and comfortingly smooth sound of Rush’s “Time Stand Still” has found its own place, in vaporwave: the genre’s godfather, Daniel Lopatin, reworked the track into a tribute to a lost future that turns nostalgia into an aesthetic, suspended between technological uplift and melancholy.

Beyond borders

The hunt for the most effective source material isn’t limited to the giants of Anglo-American prog. Leading hip hop artists have also drawn on lesser-known corners of the progressive landscape, revealing (perhaps via an intermediary producer) a considerable knowledge of progressive scenes from every era and every part of the world. Dr. Dre sampled Locanda delle Fate, Travis Scott drew from New England’s Eighties scene, A Tribe Called Quest drew on Invisible (the band led by Argentine rock maestro Luis Alberto Spinetta), and Jay-Z used the Portuguese group Quarteto 1111.
In a hypothetical ranking of the non-Anglo names that recur most often in hip hop sampling, a few stand out in particular: Spinetta (whose solo work and various bands have turned up in tracks by The Alchemist, Captain Murphy, Eminem and Blockhead), the Dutch band Focus (J. Cole, OutKast, Lupe Fiasco), the German band Eloy (50 Cent, Havoc, Prodigy), the Polish artist Czesław Niemen (Vince Staples, Madlib, Billy Woods, Roc Marciano), Budka Suflera (Big Shug of Gang Starr, Dj Muggs, The Alchemist), and SBB (Madlib, Snoop Dogg, Tyler The Creator, Dj Shadow, Dj Krush).
The absolute champions, though, seem to be the Hungarian band Omega, thanks to the legendary “Gyöngyhajú lány” (from the 1969 album “10 000 lépés”), first sampled by Canadian rapper Evil Ebenezer in 2006, followed by Wiz Khalifa, Kanye West, Madlib, and even Italian artists Mecna and Night Skinny feat. Rkomi. Nor is it their only track to draw such attention: Madlib also sampled “Éjféli koncert” on “Track 29”, Big Shug of Gang Starr used “Járt itt egy boldog ember” on “Exposed”, and the duo M.E.D. and Guilty Simpson worked “Russian Winter” into “Face Down” and “Movin’ World” into “The Future” – and the list could go on.

Prog sampling has been a constant throughout hip hop history, especially from the Nineties onward. While many artists have drawn from this sonic reservoir, some stand out for the depth of their research and their skill in reworking progressive fragments.
Madlib is among the most eclectic: alongside the examples already mentioned, one could add Van Der Graaf Generator, Hatfield and the North, Nucleus, Brand X, Kingdom Come, Fruup, Synergy, the Indonesian band Shark Move, the Israeli band Sheshet, the Brazilian band O Terço, the Romanian band Phoenix, and the Turkish artist Barış Manço (the latter two being legendary figures in their respective scenes).
J Dilla, another crate-digger with a strong penchant for prog, built a distinctive rhythmic style by splicing together fragments of Caravan, Starcastle, Brand X, as well as Italy's own Banco and Acqua Fragile.
Kanye West has exploited the full breadth of the prog palette (sampling everyone from Rovescio della Medaglia to Mike Oldfield, from Manfred Mann to Yes) to amplify his lavish vision, while Danger Mouse has made the fusion of opposing styles his trademark, leaning on snippets of Biglietto per l’Inferno, Sandrose, and Agincourt.
The notoriously controversial Ill Bill has dug up, among many others, Emerson Lake & Palmer, Dutch artist Thijs Van Leer, the Slovak band Fermáta, the Czech band Flamengo, and the Swedish band Kaipa.
Handfuls of progressive borrowings also crop up in the imaginative beats of Dj Shadow (Osanna, Sensations’ Fix, Alan Parsons, the German band Embryo, the Finnish artist Pekka Pohjola, the Dutch band Supersister, the Swedish band Trettioåriga Kriget) and Four Tet (the French duo Malicorne and Alan Stivell, the Canadian band Harmonium, the Finnish artist Jukka Tolonen). Other prog regulars turn up in the Anticon orbit, with records by Buck 65 and Deep Puddle Dynamics packed with samples both obscure and less obscure (Atomic Rooster, Mike Oldfield, Captain Beyond, Manfred Mann, Rush, Procol Harum, Jethro Tull, Swedish artists Bjorn J:Son Lindh and Bo Hansson).
Alan Daniel Maman, better known as The Alchemist, especially in his work for Conway The Machine, has manipulated Facedancers, Mandalaband, Eloy, the Dutch band Earth & Fire, the Austrian band Eela Craig, the Spanish band Canarios, and the Czech band Blue Effect.
Still on the subject of Conway The Machine, the beats crafted for him by Thomas Paladino, aka Daringer, have few rivals for sheer variety: I Camaleonti, Polish artist Tadeusz Woźniak, Slovak artist Dežo Ursiny, the Japanese acts Ain Soph and Stomu Yamash’ta, the German band Novalis, the Belgian band Cos, the Spanish band Triana, the Canadian band Sloche, the Danish band Secret Oyster, and Jukka Tolonen once again.

Artistic reality versus journalistic ideology

The intensity of the relationship between progressive rock and hip hop might seem surprising, but it's a bond built on solid shared ground: rhythmic exploration, the evocative power of sound, the fusion of disparate elements. Their affinity, in other words, is anything but accidental: progressive rock was born from absorbing a wide range of influences, from classical music to jazz, from folk to psychedelia, in order to expand its own sonic horizons. And just as hip hop, through sampling, democratized access to a vast range of genres without requiring traditional technical skill, prog too harnessed new technologies – synthesizers, Mellotron, advanced recording techniques – to reach levels of complexity and grandeur otherwise out of reach. In both cases, technology was the essential tool for pushing past limits, tapping into distant sonic worlds, and reshaping sounds for new contexts.

That progressive rock ranks among the most frequently sampled sources in hip hop is hard to dispute, as shown by the ever-growing list of beatmakers who quote its fragments, structures and atmospheres. Some are true devotees, and probably know the genre more deeply than a good many music journalists. And yet this relationship has rarely been addressed by those who study the hip hop phenomenon. How could such a fertile connection have been so systematically overlooked, if not deliberately ignored? To understand why, we need to look at the historical evolution of music journalism, and in particular its culturally dominant branch: the Anglo-American one.

Hegemony and erasures

Over the years, this field has settled into a set of dialectical and ideological mechanisms born during rock's period of greatest cultural centrality, mechanisms that have since become fixed points of music criticism. These patterns have persisted across decades and adapted across contexts, remaining active even when dealing with genres far removed from rock in the strict sense, such as pop or rap.
It's no coincidence, for instance, that many journalists and industry figures today use the word “rock” to refer to the entire field of popular music. Just look at how the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame regularly inducts figures who have little to do with rock in the strict sense: Janet Jackson, Whitney Houston, Eminem, Jay-Z.

Of course, music criticism isn't a monolithic bloc. It's shaped by cultural and local differences (Italian critics aren't necessarily aligned with their English-speaking counterparts, though they unfortunately often end up operating in their shadow), and attitudes are shaped by the size of the outlet, individual leanings, and countless other factors. Still, without wanting to overstate the point, this is a majority tendency, and one that deserves closer analysis.
For decades now, Anglophone criticism has been marked by two trends that go hand in hand and seem inseparable: on one side, the exaltation of hip hop; on the other, the systematic disdain for progressive rock and its offshoots. The two attitudes didn't emerge as a consequence of one another: OndaRock has already examined the origins of the backlash against prog in a long article well worth reading (“Punk vs. prog – Storia di un falso mito”). In short, this attitude had already emerged in the early Seventies, when hip hop didn't even exist yet. Conversely, the recognition of hip hop as a pivotal phenomenon is part of a broader critical realignment: Black music, long ignored or relegated to a secondary role, became the cornerstone of a new ideological paradigm grounded in plurality and inclusion.

The fact remains, however, that today the most popular and influential Anglo-American critical outlets are overwhelmingly defined by these two traits. Although they didn't develop deliberately in opposition to one another, they coexist with striking regularity, and their pairing seems to be a self-perpetuating phenomenon, giving rise to new generations of listeners who absorb both traits at once.
In recent years, this polarization has been pushed to almost cartoonish extremes: prog has been tied to an ostentatious display of white identity, to the point of being branded “the whitest music ever” in a widely read Atlantic article. It's a paradoxical, ahistorical accusation: however much prog looked to European culture for reference points, its key figures were often deeply indebted to African-American tradition, from jazz to soul to blues, and were anything but engaged in some mission of exclusion. Reducing that movement to a self-celebration of whiteness means ignoring both its roots and its innate drive to cross cultural boundaries.

Once again, then, criticism found itself trapped within rigid boundaries and categories, even as artists operated with a far greater and more relaxed freedom. Sample after sample, the history of this intertwining confirms the vitality of the prog legacy, which in its constant transformation still defies every prejudice and rigid category. So much so that it proves there's no essential opposition between two genres long perceived as antithetical – only a long conversation made of loops, interlocking parts, and variations.

Closing note: this article would not have existed without the platform Whosampled.com. Its enormous sample-database was an irreplaceable resource for uncovering just how pervasive the relationship explored in the paragraphs above really is, and this brief excursus reveals only a small fraction of what a curious reader might discover by digging through the site's pages.
Anyone looking for an easy way into the world of prog samples in hip-hop can also turn to the playlist accompanying this article. Sixty tracks that are just a taste, partly because not all the songs mentioned in the article are available on Spotify, and partly because even a compilation five times as long wouldn't satisfactorily map out the whole field. But you have to start somewhere, and hopefully this selection can serve that purpose well.

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This article is an English translation of the original Italian text by Federico Romagnoli, published on OndaRock.it. It was translated with the help of artificial intelligence, under the editorial responsibility of OndaRock's editor-in-chief, Claudio Fabretti.

Read the original in Italian · About the English edition