TRUE, I’VE always considered hard work to be a somewhat overrated concept, but on this occasion it’s not just mere slothfulness which has prompted me to give my favourite gig, album and band of 1993 to the same outfit.

Nope, when it comes to receiving accolades, jazz rappers US 3 are going to have to come up with more acceptance speeches this Christmas than Graham Taylor at the ‘Dismal Failure Of The Year’ awards. And this despite accusations from certain quarters that they’re guilty of grave-robbing and necrophilia.

“That’s right,” laughs mainman Mel Simpson totally unfazed by the charges. “A few purists have taken potshots at us for sampling people who are dead but I’m sure if the likes of Theolonius Monk, Art Blakey and Reuben Wilson were around today, they’d approve of what we’re doing because they themselves were into experimenting and breaking the rules

“We met Herbie Hancock at the Montreaux Jazz Festival, talked to him about it and he loved the idea. In fact, he posed for a photo holding the album and then went on and played a blistering version of ‘Cantaloupe Island’ which I know he hadn’t planned because he had to start it three times before the rest of the band realised what was happening.”

Hancock, who I hasten to add is still very much in the land of the living, is just one of 20 or so jazz greats who unwittingly contribute to Hand On The Torch, a record which wantonly ignores stylistic divides and underlines the huge debt that today’s hip hoppers owe the jumping jive fraternity.

“To me,” resumes Mel warming to the theme, “the ultimate seal of approval was getting permission from Blue Note Records to use anything we wanted from their back catalogue, which amounts to 54 years of music. They’re businessmen, sure, but money’s secondary to their love of jazz and they wouldn’t have given us a free hand if, as you put it, they thought we were grave-robbing.”

A former member of John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers and the production talent behind pioneering British rapper Derek B, Mel Simpson and his songwriting partner Geoff Wilkinson stumbled into the Blue Note deal by complete accident and were actually lucky not to have their first encounter with the label in court.

“Before US 3 came along, we used to record as NW1 and in 1991 we put out a single called ‘The Band Played The Boogie’ which was a minor hit and got played on Kiss-FM, and that featured a couple of samples from the Blue Note catalogue that we definitely didn’t have permission to use. Being a producer, I knew we were on shaky ground but it was a low-key affair and we didn’t think they’d get to hear about it. Wrong! Someone sent a copy to Bruce Lundvall, the Blue Note President, and we received a letter summonsing us to a meeting with their UK distributors Capitol Records.

“We were worried about going,” he reveals, “in case they slapped a writ on us but, as it happened, we walked out with the bare bones of the deal we have now.”

Although ‘The Band Played The Boogie’ featured Londoner Born 2B, Mel and Geoff decided that if their rapidly evolving hybrid was going to be accepted by a mainstream jazz audience, they’d have to give it something of an urban black American feel.

“I’d better explain that,” Mel jumps in nervously, “or otherwise you’re going to think our motivations were purely commercial. We tried a few English rappers, who were okay, but none of them were able to sit into the track or provide the authentic jazz vibe we were looking for. And the reason for that, I reckon, is that American kids are exposed to jazz the day they’re born through their parents. Here, it’s much more marginalised.”

Cue the arrival of Rahsaan, a 19-year-old Brooklynite who grew up on the same block as Spike Lee and, indeed, used to be on the moviemaker’s payroll.

“I was never conscious of discovering jazz,” he explains, “because it was always there around me. My father had a big collection of 78s and Bill Lee, the musician, was a neighbour of ours. I’d go to his place, hang out and play the drums which was the best education possible.

“Spike was one of the guys in the ‘hood and when his career started taking off, he set up his 40 Acres And A Mule store which I worked in and, again, that meant being surrounded by jazz. Some people have started dissing Spike because he’s such a busy man he doesn’t have time to sign everybody’s autograph but he goes back to Brooklyn whenever he can and he’s helped a lot of artists who’d otherwise have been ignored.”

Rahsaan’s involvement with US 3 is the result of another happy accident, a friend of Geoff Wilkinson’s catching his set in a New York club and recommending that he get his posterior on the first cut-price flight to London.

“I had a quick word with Geoff on the ‘phone beforehand and sent them a demo but, yeah, I pretty much went straight to the airport and bought my own ticket over to see what was happening. I was doing a few gigs with my partner Kobie Powell, who’s also on the album, but something told me this was going to be big and, if nothing else, it meant a holiday and a chance to check out the scene.

“What’s not generally realised is that British groups have had a huge influence on New York hip hop. Kraftwerk started it all off, yeah, but then there was Art Of Noise who I remember everyone bodypopping to and Tears For Fears, who got sampled on a lot of records.”

“Travelling to and fro across the Atlantic,” picks up Mel again, “I’ve noticed there’s an enormous amount of mutual respect between musicians in New York and London which, let’s face it, are the two dance capitals of the world. What tends to happen is that we import ideas and give them a British slant and the Americans then learn from our interpretations. It’s like US 3 – an exclusively American group couldn’t have done what we have because jazz is part of their culture, they’re too close to it. Now that we’ve prepared the ground, I expect you’ll have kids in L.A. and Detroit and wherever else, messing around with the concept and coming up with their own slant.”

The key difference between the two scenes is that in New York, and America as a whole, rap has become politicised to the point where the message is often more important than the rhythms carrying it. It’s easy to criticise the Ice Cubes and Public Enemies of this world from a safe white middle-class vantage point but having witnessed the realities of ghetto poverty and institutionalised racism for himself, does Mel feel that their militant stance is justified?

“From my experience – and I’ve seen stuff that your average tourist hasn’t – they have every right to be bloody angry. I remember driving through a suburb of New York in a tour bus which broke down and the driver, who was a local bloke, literally started shaking with fear. There was no way he was getting out because he knew he’d be mugged or shot or tossed into the river and it struck me then that millions of Americans, black and white, have to put up with that shit every day. Now, I can’t write about it – it’s not my reality – but Rahsaan can and I’m happy for him to use our music as a vehicle for that message.”

Whilst steering clear of the genre’s worst macho excesses, Rahsaan and Kobie’s raps on the likes of ‘I Got It Goin’ On’ and ‘Just Another Brother’ make no concession to conservative sensibilities, telling it how it is and to hell with the airplay.

“There’s no way you can make crack addiction or losing someone close to you sound pretty,” he rationalises. “More often than not, the feel of a track triggers off ideas for the rhymes. ‘The Darkside’ is exactly that – dark – so the rap had to be real hard and menacing. It couldn’t be about Saturday night at the movies with your girlfriend or vacationing in Hawaii.”

What I want to know, is what the hell was Rahsaan doing at the movies with my girlfriend in the first place? Anyway, leaving aside my love life for a moment, what sort of reaction has Hand On The Torch gotten in the States?

“Extremely good,” enthuses Mel with a smile on his face that’s broader than Pavarotti’s backside. “I make a point of never listening to record companies but Capitol seem to think we’re going to break big there in 1994 and they’ve lined up loads of t.v. shows and gigs for us, so who knows?

“America is the birthplace of jazz and, I have to admit, doing well there would be a little bit special.”

As anyone who managed to squeeze into their recent Tivoli sell-out will testify, US 3’s talents aren’t confined to the studio – Rahsaan, Kobie and a third rapper, Tukka Yoot, stalking the stage like predatory panthers while the six-piece band churn out the funkiest groove this side of the Bootsy Collins/George Clinton coalition.

“When US 3 started,” concludes Mel, “we never saw the project going beyond the studio but suddenly there was this demand for us to tour and we thought, ‘right, let’s do it properly and get in people who can really play.’ There are hundreds on the album but live you won’t hear a single sample.

“Theolonius and the boys didn’t need them, so I guess we can go without for a few nights!”