from the LP When Disaster Strikes…, Elektra Records, 1997
Remember when MTV actually played music videos…? I know, that’s an overused quandary by people my age these days, but damn---the ignorant-ass shit that channel is laying on the youth of today has got to be a hundred times worse for them than even the edgiest or most unabashedly lewd music videos from back in the ‘80s & ‘90s. Although, that was an era when being a “music video director” still came with a lot of cachet if you did it well (not to mention money…), and the video for this eternally slammin’ cut from Busta is a perfect example. Director Hype Williams basically made his name in music videos, this one being among his finest; essentially a redux of Coming to America, the whole vibe of this track was magnified several times thanks to Williams’ psychedelic & surreal directorial vision (those tribal day-glo warriors sealed the deal for me). This song also happens to be the joint, with that Timbaland-inspired beat which never losses its freshness, and Busta’s ridiculously hot rhymes, “…hit you with the shit make you feel it all in your toes, hot shit got all you niggas in wet clothes; stylin my metaphors when I formulate my flows, if you don't know you're fuckin with lyrical player pros…” Word.
from the 12” single, Enjoy Records, 1980
You gotta love when, in the pursuit of all things heady, you wind up stumbling across tributaries of lifelines which you never knew existed, clarifying a once-present state of confusion or merely coalescing vibrations in a profound way; with that in mind, I must admit that I had no clue Kool Moe Dee was dropping shit this far back until I began researching a post that was supposed to be for his 1987 cut “Little Jon”. I knew he had mad respect for being old school (back in the days which are now referred to as “old school”, making him old-old school I suppose), but I didn’t realize he was there at hip-hop’s actual genesis (Dee, along with Busy Bee, is the supposed originator of battling on the mic); thus, I landed upon this early number from his primitive crew the Treacherous Three, something which is actually way funkier than the track I was gonna put up, so that works out nicely! Similar in approach to the other Enjoy Records release I have posted on here (“Superappin”), this discofied cut is a waxen testament to hip-hop’s freewheeling halcyon days, long before money & notoriety changed everything for evermore (not saying that was a bad thing, just sayin’…). This is dedicated to the memory of dynamite producer Bobby Robinson, who laid down this and other seminal hip-hop tracks before the word was out, passing on a week ago at the ripe old age of 93---I’m just sorry he had to experience Soulja Boy Tell Em (see: “Gucci bandana, Gucci Gucci bandana, repeat ad nauseum) before he died… Let’s all do Bobby’s memory a solid by re-claiming the hip-hop mantle for people who actually have talent!
from the 12” single, Next Plateau Records, 1986
Any connoisseur of hip-hop will already be well familiar with one Kool Keith (a.k.a. Dr. Octagon), but many of today’s younger heads don’t understand just how far his legacy traces back, and even those of us who grew up loving this early stuff with Ced-Gee, as the Ultramagnetic MCs, still get our minds blown when one considers that this track was dropped in 1986. Not 1988, not 1987, but fucking ’86!!! You wanna know why the Beasties grew up so much between License and Paul’s Boutique? You wanna know about the steez that hip-hoppers were imitating for over a decade after this release? You’re listening to it right now. This was some next-level shit in the mid ‘80s, and Gee’s decision to loop the full glorious break from Melvin Bliss’ “Synthetic Substitution” literally changed the rap game. Yes, I am stoned and sturdy enough to declare that a single break altered the course of an entire genre of music, a break so fat that it should carry its own warning for those suffering from high blood pressure; not to mention, I think Kool Keith was the first rapper to ever name check a Datsun in his rhymes…word up. Clean copies of this single go for over $50, as this cut remains a gold standard, perhaps the perfect postmodern reduction of everything hip-hop has to offer.
from the LP Bust Me Out, Mercury Records, 1984
Perhaps more than any other genre of music, hip-hop has always been saturated with “beef”, whether good old fashioned battling on the mic or the wanton trend of homicidal violence (and everything in between); at any rate, fights just seem part & parcel to the music business in general I suppose. A common scenario, particularly if and/or when older tracks enjoy a renewed popularity due to retro trends, is having people who feel that they never received their credit due, often correlating to a beef over someone else getting more props than they supposedly deserve. Grandmaster Flash is, undeniably, one of the most influential DJs of all time, but the songs for which he is best remembered (“The Message” & “White Lines”) were actually written, performed & produced by Duke Bootee and Melle Mel alone, no Flash or the other members from the Furious Five around; this fact has led many to determine that Mel & the Duke both deserve a lot more recognition than they’ve gotten---Duke in particular. His lone solo LP backs up that assertion, a buffet of electro beats & laser-synths that still sound fresh as hell to this day, and check out the phatty ghetto-blaster pictured on the cover…wish I still had mine!
from the LP Straight Out the Jungle, Warlock Records, 1988
“Jungle Brothers on the run ya’ll, JB’s on the run…” Championed by heavy heads & critics alike upon their inception, it’s a mystery to me why the NYC-based Jungle Brothers never managed to parlay that acclaim into a longstanding legacy in the way that other crews from their Native Tongues posse did (see: Tribe or De La), because their rhymes and raps nearly equal the above mentioned crews; that Babe Ruth “Mexican” sample has gone on to become one of the most pinched breaks of all time, and you can never include too much Jimmy Castor Bunch, ever. As with so many of my early musical discoveries, the JBeez came to my ears care of my older nephew David (…my oldest sister, his mom, is 20 years my senior…we put the “fun” in dysfunctional in my family); he lived in California, the epitome of cool to a young Florida beach scrub in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s. Every summer & Xmas, when our family would try to act like a family, we’d hang out and it was like musicology 101 for me, digging through his tunes and returning home afterwards with a head full of new songs; he had this album on cassette. In fact, he just had a b-day, so happy birthday Dave!
from the LP Stone Cold Rhymin’, Delicious Vinyl Records, 1989
You’ve all heard me whine incessantly about the craptacular state of mainstream hip-hop today, and how things used to be so good, blah blah blah. Well, along with all the other danky stuff I’ve posted on here, this slice of old school wax should be enough to silence any of the doubters. Everything on this cut brings the freshness: the layered breaks, Young MC’s speedy (and noticeably clean) rap delivery, and the impressive mix of tasty samples, including The Ohio Players’ “Skin Tight”, The Incredible Bongo Band’s “Apache”, and those super-skeezy guitar licks pulled from Shaft’s theme song---sick! This entire album was chock full of similarly dope beats, breaks that made you want to move your feet, and it’s not going out on a limb to assume that the Chem Bros & Fatboy Slim found plenty of inspiration inside these grooves.
from the LP Straight Outta Compton, Ruthless Records, 1988
I can still remember the look on my mom’s face: having borrowed this cassette from a friend in my class, I decided that the show couldn’t wait until arriving home, so I eagerly popped it in the car’s tape player and let this roll---needless to say, mom wasn’t amused, already fielding my (and every other young kid in Florida’s) growing affection for the infamous 2 Live Crew. That said, she was smart enough to know that reacting strongly would just encourage me more, so to her credit, she actually let this entire song finish before the tape got yanked---she was probably gonna try and make it through the whole ride just to prove a point, but when “Fuck Tha Police” came on after this, it was all over, fast. I remember her looking at me with a puzzled expression on her face and asking, “so, do think these people are cool because they talk like that?” I denied it, knowing full well however that hearing people say “pussy-ass motherfucker” was deeply magnetic to young boys, including myself, and I spent hours rapping along with this tape in my room. My folks would never have admitted it, but their ire wasn’t really about the cuss words (hell, the violent movies they love contained all the same lingo), it was the fact that black people were saying them & potentially having influence over their kid. Looking back, it wasn’t so much that this strain of early gansta-rap put any new ideas in my head or anything (they were already there…), but it most certainly validated some of my angst. Listening to this today, it’s impressive how fresh the beats still sound, even if the gratuitous rhymes now make me giggle instead of pump my fist.
from the LP Here Come the Lords, Pendulum Records, 1993
Man, this one takes me back…I can almost smell the sweet-soggy funk of schwag burning in a White Owl or Optimo cigar casing, emulating what we were all seeing in the rap videos around this time but, frankly, made perfect sense (practically speaking) to serious potheads who were looking to get as high as possible; admittedly, when they inquired “…could it be the skunk weed that makes us oh so funky…”, the answer for me & my friends at that time would have been mostly “no”---for us, these were the days of $80-a-zip commercial trees, only rarely scoring an eighth (or less) of what they called “Krypie” in Florida back then (essentially just kind bud). Even though many of us have plausibly become weed snobs in the decades since, no one can really knock smoking ‘mersh in a blunt, because it does get you mad high!! This track, by New Jersey-based crew the Lords of the Underground, wound up on a grip of mixtapes I made for friends back in the summer of ’93, and it still bangs hard as fuck today.
from the LP Underground Vibes, Street Jazz Productions, 1995
Laurent ‘DJ Cam’ Daumail has often been called the DJ Shadow of France, and although that comparison is a bit misleading (Cam has always been far more interested in jazz records, where Shadow has leaned much heavier on the funk tip), it works well enough to give one an idea of just how massive Mr. Daumail’s skillset really is. His dexterous pairing of portly drum breaks with numerous snippets of ephemeral jazz décor has resulted in some of the dankest beats ever dropped, on either side of the ocean! Thinking about it, one would perhaps be more accurate to compare Cam’s work with the nuanced masterpieces of Japan’s DJ Krush, at least in his ability to show restraint without sacrificing the density of the cut. Cam is still dropping fresh, phatty beats to this very day, evolved somewhat from what you hear here, but remaining very closely related. This track isn’t just a smart title either---this is music for getting blunted to.
from the LP The Hollywood Recordings, Babygrande Records, 2007
“…sprinkle some cosmic dust baby…” What would happen if Ali Shaheed Muhammad came to meet George Clinton & D’Angelo out at Prince’s summer pad on Neptune? Apart from some philosophizing, toking & pontificating (respectively), one could be relatively sure that the beats would come fresh enough to keep everybody warm---well, L.A. underground superheroes, the Sa-Ra Creative Partners, seem to mine the heady depths in pursuit of a fitting soundtrack for said encounter, employing all manner of skronking electronics and soothingly lusty touches in order to bring the funk, proper. It’s a difficult balance, to sound both polished and organic at the same time, but these cats make that intricate contrast work to their advantage, never too clean & never too skeezy; admittedly, they don’t reach the dizzying heights found in this sizzling cut all across the album, “…but can y’all niggas get down though…?” Indeed, they can.
from the LP Funky Technician, Wild Pitch Records, 1990
Founder of the terminally hip “Diggin’ In The Crates” crew, Lord Finesse has spent the last 15+ years behind the glass in a studio, but back in the Golden Age this Bronx-bred rapper came on like he was born to rhyme, not to mention his ability to know talent when he saw it---dude had Premier, Showbiz & Diamond D laying beats for him here, long before any of them had fully blown up. DJ Mike Smooth (no relation to CL Smooth) knew his place, showing great restraint behind the decks and never over-scratching an inch. This masterful title track was the crafty work of Diamond D, and it remains absolutely mesmerizing: those ubiquitous James Brown horns, but also some killer samples from Juice crew members Biz Markie (“…damn it feels good to see people up on it…”) and Marly Marl, a very courageous choice given Finesse’s roots (re: Bronx vs. Queensbridge wars back then). The gritty & swinging beats match seamlessly with Finesse’s rhymes, which come hard as fuck, predicting the Wu-Tangs and Mobb Deeps of the world that would soon follow, including one of the earliest declarations of “…nigga, please…” on wax. Kick back, relax, and enjoy some masters at work!
from the LP Flesh Eating Disco Zombies Versus The Bionic Hookers From Mars, Ninja Tune Records, 1996
British hip-hop don’t get no respect, being one of the few American-bred styles of modern music that the Brits haven’t totally cracked (as compared to, say, the way they psychedelicized rock, congealed punk, or mainstreamed house); as with all things in life, one can find some notable exceptions to the rule, London’s Funk Allstars being the ones who pop into my mind first. Essentially the productions of one Jason Turnbride and his pals, I first heard these cats on a tape that DJ Craze had mixed around ‘99/2000, one who’s name I can’t recall (if anyone knows this, please hit me up with it, as I’d love to procure that mixtape again) but where he focused entirely on British hip-hop artists: full of thick beats, trippy samples & plenty of cockney accents. You can pretty much trust that any record released on Ninja Tune will bring the funk, and this was no exemption, containing some badass scratching and stellar production, leaving us with a really good case for giving UK hip-hop a second, deeper, look.
from the LP Back to Wreck Shop, Warlock Records, 1989
Often overlooked, probably because of it’s close proximity to NYC, the hip-hop scene in Philly has never been short on talent, and golden-era squad the Tuff Crew collected some of that area’s brightest stars, both on the mic & behind the decks; in addition, unlike most other rap groups then and now, the Tuff Crew was genuinely multi-racial, counting black, latino, white & mixed-race members among their ranks. Perhaps most notably (surprisingly?) of all was white boy DJ 2Tuff, hailed by many of today’s most respected turntablists (DJ Shadow, Q-Bert, Z-Trip, Craze and others) as being instrumental in taking scratching from a background decorative touch to a full-fledged instrumental attack. Never finding mainstream success, they called it quits by the end of ’91, but both this album and their solid debut are absolute old school classics. Don’t sleep.
from the LP Mecca & the Soul Brother, Elektra Records, 1992
Man, I can’t fucking believe that I hadn’t posted this one yet…yo, my bad, seriously. I can say without hesitation that Pete Rock is easily one of my top 5 favorite beatmakers ever! It’s not terribly often that a producer can lace some beats so dank & heavy that it makes your eyes well up a little bit, the collage of horns, bass & kick bringing the most reverent & regal of vibration, and it’s definitely a rarity for an MC to come with a flow so tough & fresh while managing to avoid the customary self-promoting braggadocio one always expects from street rhymes. For one reason or another, CL Smooth has sort of become an undervalued rapper, even though his skills easily stand up with the Q-Tips of the world; Pete Rock, on the other hand, has consistently sat high in both critical & fan circles, albeit existing happily in the underground. This particular number, an absolute masterpiece, was composed in memory of one of Heavy D’s boyz, Trouble T-Roy, (Pete Rock, from a 2007 interview) “…I had a friend of mine that passed away…I was kind of depressed when I made it, and to this day, I can't believe I made it through, the way I was feeling… when I mixed the song down, I had Charlie Brown from Leaders of the New School in the session with me, and we all just started crying…” I suppose knowing this is the reason that saxophone always transports my mind backwards, thinking about fallen friends & family, being grateful for all the close calls that fell in our favor. Hip-Hop doesn’t get much better than this one people.
from the 12” single, Elektra Records, 1997
Other than the Neptunes, no production team or single individual had more influence over the evolving sound of hip-hop beats in the ‘90s than did Virginia native Timothy ‘Timbaland’ Mosley; coincidentally, him & Pharrell actually went to the same high school. Likewise, you’d be hard-pressed to find a female rapper that did as much to push the game forward, during the same time period, as did Melissa ‘Missy’ Elliot, delivering rhymes in a cut-up, collage style that almost reminds me of Doom at times: never stuck on one flow for very long, but taking great care to spit funky phrases full of words that aren’t expected. One of the first collisions of Tim & Missy’s talents occurred on Aaliyah’s debut album, which they mostly wrote & produced, but it wasn’t until this single and subsequent LP that the duo would be working all for themselves. Although not known for traditional sampling, Tim grabbed a smoking hot loop from Ann Peebles’ “I Can’t Stand the Rain” to serve as the foundation for this track, overtop of which he laced what would later become his signature skitter beats, along with some thunder and a continuous cricket chirp; meanwhile, Missy unleashes some of the smoothest & most endearingly quirky raps you ever heard, “…when the rain hits my window, I take a {inhaling a hit & coughing} me some indo, me and Timbaland, ooh, we sang a jangle, we so tight that you get our styles tangled; sway your dosie-do like you loco, can we get kinky tonight, like CoCo, so-so, you don't wanna play with my yo-yo, I smoke my hydro on the d-low…”
from the LP ’93 ‘til Infinity, Jive Records, 1993
A good example of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, Oakland crew the Souls of Mischief brought a decidedly golden age vibe in a time when West Coast gangsta rap had just dethroned their old school sound, leaving this insanely talented crew to be largely forgotten by the mainstream; had these cats rolled out a few years before, and in NYC instead of the Bay area, I’d have bet the farm on them being huge, yet they somehow remain even less known than similar late-comers like the Pharcyde. This entire album is a fluid display of hip-hop mastery, from the hot potato rhyming scheme to the sick ass beats (the title track here features a very spacey Billy Cobham sample), sounding much more like a polished veteran set as opposed to a debut; also, lots of weed talk, which always endears an artist to me, “…yo, I can dig it, here's a 40, swig it, ya know it's frigid, I got em chillin’ in the cooler; break out the ruler, damn, that's the fattest stoke I've ever seen; the weather’s keen in Cali, gettin’ weeded makes her feel like Maui, now we feel the good vibrations, so many females, so much inspiration; I get inspired by the blunts too…” Anyone who loves Tribe-era rap but is unfamiliar with the Souls would be well served to procure this LP immediately, if not sooner.
from the LP Black Sunday, Ruffhouse Records, 1993
Ahhh bongs… The evolution of bong-making has been fun to watch over the last couple decades, from the plastic Graffix monoliths of yore to the intricately sculpted crystal towers of today; indeed, like any other commercial product or advertisement, bongs have changed to meet the demands of the buying public. Take, for example, the ice catcher---here someone clearly responded to both the increasing popularity of using ice in bongs & the fallout from so many broken stems due to large chunks of ice falling straight down the tube and hitting them (we used to avoid that peril by stuffing snow in the barrel); these days, you’d be hard pressed to find a glass bong without that friendly dimple towards the base of the tube. Good looking out bong-makers! In the spirit of honesty however, I must share a firm observation that my friends and I have come to realize over the years (and countless thousands of sessions), and that is: when you smoke weed through water, be it a bong or bubbler, you don’t stay high for as long. Well, that is unless we are speaking of the old-school “gravity bong”---you know, the 2-liter job where one cuts the bottle in half and keeps the part with the cap, then one heats up the bowlpiece from an old metal pipe on an electric stove burner (which you melt through the plastic cap to make a tight seal), followed by filling the sink with water and proceeding to force ungodly amounts of smoke down into the inner recesses of one’s stomach & intestines. Remember those contraptions?! I will gladly make an exception in their case, but many of us are too old for that shit anymore, so pass me a pipe or a joint already…
from the LP Mr. Hood, Elektra Records, 1991
I was a fan of the infamous MF Doom for a couple years before I made the connection between him & his former alias, Zev Love X, as one third of the golden-era crew KMD (along with his late brother Subroc & pal Onyx); to be honest, there is nary a similarity to be found between the two periods of Daniel Dumile’s musical activity, save for good beats. I know it has become trendy to bash Doom, after those admittedly questionable “imposter” shows, but the guy has always had a knack for delivering in the studio, and for some of us (particularly those of us too lazy and/or old to even be bothered to go out to hip-hop shows anymore) that’s enough. Decent rhymes, tight loop, and mad props for the sampling of Bert, Ernie’s square lover from Sesame Street.
from the LP When Disaster Strikes…, Elektra Records, 1997
