P.M. Dawn - Of The Heart, Of The Soul And Of The Cross: The Utopian Experience

Gee Street: 1991

Another CD that didn't make much sense in Teenage Sykonee's music collection. I kinda' remember the reason for getting it though, P.M. Dawn's Set Adrift On Memory Bliss being one of my first make-out tunes. I think I mentioned in passing to an aunt I'd be interested in their album, and behold come Christmas, there's P.M. Dawn's (nearly three year old by that point) debut LP under the tree. Thanks, I guess.

As for P.M. Dawn, they had an intriguing run for most of the '90s, in that they found a 'gimmick' that should have fallen flat on its face: Religious Rap. Not that themes of religious spirituality and praises of God/Allah/Jah/etc. haven't been common in hip-hop, but typically as an aside to whatever an act's main focus is. And even if said rapper does make it a focus, it's often in a bellicose manner, that Judgement Day affects everyone, so you'd best have accounted for all your sins in this life, lest the Almighty strike thee down when your body's six feet deep.

P.M. Dawn said, “Nah, we can all be blessed and blissed, right?” After all, those soul records DJs loved sampling were filled with benign spirituality, so wearing their non-confrontational hearts on sleeves went brothers Prince Be and DJ Minute Mix, becoming one of conscious rap’s earliest successes in the process. Unfortunately, due to their unaggressive approach to the craft, they also turned into a mild joke, regarded as the only hip-hop act white people felt comfortable listening to (that wasn’t Will Smith). An unfair assessment, though it’s hardly a surprise their album sales steadily dwindled as gangsta rap rose and dominated within the general hip-hop discourse.

Having such a huge hit in Set Adrift On Memory Bliss probably didn’t help either, follow-up singles unable to capture the charm of that sample of Spandau Ballet’s True coupled with smooth, vibey lyrics and solid R&B beats. The bulk of *deep breath* Of The Heart, Of The Soul And Of The Cross: The Utopian Experience follows the same general vibe as that tune, though with more of an upbeat hip-hop bent. The few tunes that do break mould are either closer in tone to rap music you’d expect of the early ‘90s (Comatose is far funkier with Prince Be applying Serious Conscious Lyrics; Shake’s aimed squarely for the club, with Todd Terry producing no less), while others go off the deep with the spirituality (The Beautiful is practically a beatnik ambient-funk jam session).

If this all sounds rather lame, well... sucks to be you. I won’t deny P.M. Dawn’s a hard sell in this day in hip-hop age, even for those curious about Golden Age records. Both lyrically and music-wise, there’s little here that’ll surprise even a casual participant of the scene. Yet The Utopian Experience is remarkably affable, soul music that leaves a pleasant glow within without being cloying or schmaltzy about it. Can’t say that about much other ‘pop rap’, now can we?

Public Enemy - Apocalypse 91 ...The Enemy Strikes Black

Def Jam Recordings: 1991

Here’s a controversial thought: as awesome as The Bomb Squad were in producing Public Enemy’s first few albums, there were growing too esoteric for the hip-hop community. Cool, you guys can cram a whole bunch of sounds and samples into your tracks, creating works of music like dense collages, but dammit, the rest of Public Enemy’s getting lost in the shuffle in doing so. Just as well, then, that they’d step back from the studio following the copyright clampdown on sampling, donning an executive producer’s role for this here Apocalypse 91 album. If they can’t play with all the toys, then they ain’t gonna play with them at all …well, much anyway.

Replacing them for main beatsmith duties are Imperial Grand Ministers Of Funk. And straight up, the funk be back up in this trunk, booyeee! Oh, damn, I’ve been hearing too much Flavor Flav lately. Sorry about that. Seriously though, it’s great to hear beats that come fast and hard, but with plenty of bounce in them. Since raiding tons of samples to keep your attention just wasn’t allowed anymore, the music’s gotten simpler for the most part, relying on infectious funk and soul loops complementing rhythms that bang. Here’s another controversial thought: I like the production on Apocalypse 91 more than the lauded Fear Of A Black Planet and It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back. Not to take anything away from The Bomb Squad, and their touch still remains throughout this album, but if I’m reaching for a Public Enemy LP that’ll hit me with beats my EDM-tastes lean towards, this is the one that makes the cut for sure.

It also helps that Chuck D, Terminator X, and even Flavor Flav are hitting their respective peaks too. If Fear Of A Black Planet had them stepping back as The Bomb Squad took the spotlight, the three main stage players don’t hold anything back on Apocalypse 91. Chuck D’s as fiery as he’s ever been, going after targets ranging from political, corporate, and even criminal. Public Enemy’s often been called ‘militant’, their music the sort of rhetoric that’ll rouse the rabble, but Chuck D’s more focused in his attacks this time out, giving specific targets and even solutions when he can (quit all that boozing in 1 Million Bottlebags). And damn, here’s a third controversial thought: Flavor Flav’s gotten good on the mic. When did he find the time for that? He’s always been obligated one or two cuts to himself on Public Enemy’s albums, and they were guaranteed the weakest tracks. He still isn’t anywhere near Chuck D’s level, but I Don’t Wanna Be Called Yo Niga and A Letter To The New York Post are pretty strong showings from the comedy sidekick.

Apocalypse 91 may not receive the same level of plaudits as their prior albums, but it easily ranks high among hip-hop albums from an era filled with classics. This is Public Enemy with nothing left to prove and firing on all cylinders.

The KLF - Justified & Ancient

Arista: 1991/1992

I never really liked Justified & Ancient in its White Room incarnation. Despite a decent number to end the album on, it held none of the thrill Side A was stuffed with, and little to look forward to after the mostly bland slog of Side B. Of course, I had no bloody idea that the proper single of this tune was totally different until much, much later, but after learning such third-hand, I'd never find it, forever lost to the dustbins of time where- oh, there it is in a used shop. That settles that, I guess.

The evolution of Justified & Ancient is probably more interesting than anything I can say about the music itself. Already a running theme within Jimmy Cauty and Bill Drummond’s discography (popping up as early as the track Hey Hey We Are Not The Monkees in the album 1987 What The Fuck’s Going?, under the earlier The Justified Ancients Of Mu Mu guise ...whew, what a wordfull), it seems appropriate this would end up their final single before calling it quits in the music business altogether.

Ironically, part of their retirement was due to the success of this single, specifically revitalizing Tammy Wynette’s career after she provided vocals for the new Stand By The JAMS mix. Suddenly The KLF were getting requests from a slew of has-been musicians looking for the Timelords bump. Well gee, can’t go becoming a part of the system they’d worked so hard to subvert, so screw you Music Industry, we’re done.

Included in this single is the ‘original’ White Room version, which I’ve warmed to since those blinkered early teen years of mine. Plus, in case you’re one of those ‘progressive house’ DJs needing an instrumental tool, there’s the Let Them Eat Ice Cream mix.

Really though, we’re all here for the upbeat UK acid house, chart topping romp of Stand By The JAMS. It’s got Tammy Wynette bellowing out the verses (apparently time-stretched at points as she was unable to sing in time to the backing tracks – darn country singers and always getting their way with session musicians conforming to their needs), a bouncy rhythm that was quite popular with cross-over house music in the Isle O’ Brits, cheers, chants, raps, guitars, daft lyrics (no, really, what’s with the ice cream van?) and all the uplifting anthem choruses you can sing along to (and wonder just how sincere The KLF were being with them). Oddly, there’s also an All Bound For Mu Mu Land version, which has frequent KLF vocal contributor Maxine Harvey taking on full vocal duties (she also provided the choruses of the Tammy Wynette version). Was this recorded prior to Cauty and Drummond knowing they’d get the First Lady Of Country in the studio, or after when their session didn’t turn out as they’d hoped before Cauty manipulated them? Ooh, now there’s a hilarious set-up for a theoretical one-question-only situation, to have it wasted on something so trivial. I’m sure The KLF would approve.

Del Tha Funkee Homosapien - I Wish My Brother George Was Here

Elektra: 1991

As I continue to wait for that new Deltron album to finally drop (so... bloody... long...), it seems appropriate that I now find myself returning to Del's debut album, I Wish My Brother George Was Here (a reference to Liberace, though the point of using it I haven't a clue). All things considered, it's a surprising album to have come out in the year 1991. Gangsta rap was huge (pop rap even huger, but like hell Del would do that), so not following in his cousin's footsteps in that field probably wasn't the best option if he aimed at making a large career for himself. Then again, the issues Ice Cube often dealt with were worlds apart from the life Del was familiar with, and if there's anything Tha Funkee Homosapien prides himself on, it's sincerity of content. Either that, or he just preferred looking on the lighter side of life.

But that was for the future. At the time, ol' Cube, already sitting high in the hip-hop pantheon, was more than helpful in giving Del a running start, producing and supplying dialog (mostly banter via gangsta counterpoints) throughout this album. And just as with Death Certificate, the George Clinton and Parliament Funk influences are heavy on here (say, maybe Del and Cube are claiming Clinton's their musical brother-in-arms! ...or something). In fact, it utterly dominates Brother George right from the start. They aren't just raiding the past for samples, they're aiming for recreation of Funkadelic in the early '90s (by, um, sampling a whole bunch of George Clinton and the like). Party rap, then? I guess so, as cuts like Mr. Dobalina, Dr. Bombay, What Is A Booty, and Ahonetwo, Ahonetwo definitely encourage hand wavin' and booty shakin' galore.

Despite using beats that, ultimately, didn't require much lyricism more poignant than “Throw your hands in the air, etc.”, Del wasn't about to sell his skills short. Still being a teenager though, he wasn’t too world-wise, so despite I Wish often getting lumped in the ‘conscious rap’ side of things, there aren’t many deep insights found within. Rather, trivial tales like chilling (Sunny Meadowz), tribulations of taking busses (The Wacky World Of Rapid Transit, a tune I get a kick out of since I rely on public transportation to get around Vancouver – though the events Del describes sounds more like a trip through Surrey), and frustration over lazy friends (Sleepin’ On My Couch) take up a good chunk of the album. Other times, he’s calling out all the poseurs and “fraudulent foes” in the rap game (Pissin’ On Your Steps, Same Ol’ Thing, Ya Lil’ Crumbsnatchers), a theme that he continues to this day, though obviously back then he had much easier targets to disassemble (Vanilla Ice is spared no mercy).

This is definitely a fun album to throw on, but not really a shining example of Del’s rapping skills. Despite the early lyrical potential, Brother George is better enjoyed for the beats oozing with the best of p-funk vibes.

Ice Cube - Death Certificate

Priority Records: 1991/2003

I had no idea Ice Cube’s Death Certificate was so old. 1994-ish was my guess when I saw this album sitting on store shelves, but no earlier. Hell, I thought The Predator was older! I’ll grant part of my ignorance was just not knowing much about O’Shea Jackson’s early solo career, beyond a basic cliff-notes summary (formed N.W.A., left for solo-pursuits, got into movies, etc.), but there was another, sillier reason too: his haircut. Thanks to the album covers of Straight Outta Compton and AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted, plus the movie Boyz N The Hood, I always associated early Cube with the jheri curl style. The first instance I saw of him without the cut was in the 1993 rap parody movie CB4, so surely Death Certificate came out sometime after then, right? Hell no, in fact dropping onto store shelves a mere year after Cube’s solo debut. Wow, am I ever an idiot for taking so long to realize that.

Legend purports Mr. Jackson shaved his head as a way of distancing himself from West Coast gangsta rap tropes, which is funny considering Death Certificate marks the introduction of another attribute that defined Cali-based hip-hop: g-funk. Yes, a full year before Dr. Dre cemented the sound. To be fair, raiding George Clinton for samples was still a fresh concept, but all the glory for it goes to one of Cube's associates/enemies, and none for Da Lench Mob. Maybe everyone wanted more Bomb Squad action instead?

It definitely lends a different tone to this album compared to the last one. Lyrically, Ice Cube keeps firing shots at all the problems wrought by American society in the early '90s, but as the music has more bounce to it compared to the Bomb Squads' propulsive beats, Death Certificate comes off light-hearted compared to AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted. Not by much, mind, as tunes ranging in topic from ghetto misdemeanors (of course), members of the black community who sell themselves out for a bigger piece of the corporate pie, STDs (Look Who's Burnin' ain't about fire, folks), and even racism within the 'hood are just as vitriolic as anything Cube's done. It's just, y'know, funkier now.

So while his targets remained mostly the same (though now including N.W.A. on No Vasaline, since they had the audacity to make disses on him), Cube wanted to focus his words with more conceptual precision rather than the scatter-shot way he did before. The result is an album of two halves, a 'Death Side' and a 'Life Side' (probably worked better on the vinyl or tape copies). To be honest, there's scant difference between the two, though more 'hood tales permeate the 'Death Side', whereas 'Life Side' deals heavier with societal topics. It was a good idea in principle, but not delved into deep enough to make a difference in the album's flow one way or the other. It also dates Death Certificate to the early ‘90s, making my former ignorance of its release date all the more sad.

Eurythmics - Greatest Hits

BMG Records (UK) Ltd.: 1991

Don’t worry, we won’t be getting bogged down with greatest hits CDs for the coming week, as this is the only other one I have. Well, titled ‘greatest hits’ anyway. I also have a pile of ‘best of’s, plus an annoying auto-label quirk turned a bunch of ‘collection’s into ‘super hits’ (damned reissues). Since I prefer getting original albums of artists, I don’t have that many such releases, but there are a few acts where all you’re interested in are their best songs, and little else. Why yes Eurythmics is one such group.

Maybe one day I'll pick up their sophomore (and most memorable) effort, but aside from those icy-cool synth pop classics, a lot of the music Annie Lennox and David A. Stewart crafted together doesn't do it for me, at least enough to enjoy but a cursory listen every once and awhile. Their stabs at gospel, blues, and soul were never awful or anything, but there's only so much tinny harmonica I can handle, and the '80s were not kind to most wind instruments (oh God, what have you done to the saxaphone? And why do you insist on still using it!?).

For anyone that wasn’t around during Eurythmics’ run, listening to Greatest Hits can be startling. Sweet Dreams has endured as a classic synth ‘anthem’ (and been raped by shit remixes for years as a result), and other tasty keyboard goodies like Here Comes The Rain Again and Who’s That Girl will get rotation on many ‘hey, remember the ‘80s’ channels or theme-nights. So tied to Lennox and Stewart are these tunes that many of the younger generation probably figure that’s their only sound. As Greatest Hits clearly showcases, this is not so. Your moms and pops (we’re not yet at the grandparent stage with the ‘80s yet, are we…?) won’t find it shocking hearing gospel-rock (!) Sisters Are Doin’ For Themselves (the Aretha Franklin collab’) or Motown tribute Would I Lie To You? alongside pure new wave cuts like Sex Crime (1984) or oh-so ‘80s ballad Miracle Of Love. It’s just what Eurythmics did, taking the new wave ethos of post-genre bending, mixing it along with a crafty sense of fashion (alright, so Lennox was just doing David Bowie; still cool to see a gal on that though).

Not much more I can say about this one. You know the big tunes, and if you’re curious to hear what other musical stylings Eurythmics dabbled in, Greatest Hits is a fine primer to get (mostly because, as a former Columbia House option, you can find it anywhere for bargain bin cheap). If you’d just rather hear more pure synth pop though, their early ‘80s albums are worth your investment instead. Well, except for their debut In The Garden, unless you’ve a fancy for the off-kilter side of new-post indie-wave rock something-or-other nonsense. Well, okay, it’s not that bad, but nothing from that album appears here – and damn, what a swerve into Sweet Dreams one year later, eh?

Quadrophonia - Cozmic Jam

RCA: 1991

For a decade, I was obsessed with Quadrophonia (the song that is). It was a track that forever eluded me, my only copy being a backing soundtrack to an NBA Jam Session video I had on VHS. It contained everything that drew me into 'techno' during my honeymoon year: big punchy riff, chunky beat, robot voices, and Michael Jordan! Well, maybe not that last one, but stuff like this was definitely being played out at basketball games.

The 'stuff' in question is proper old school rave music, and Quadrophonia (the duo that is) is considered pioneers of the sound. Far as anyone can tell, their big single Quadrophonia was the first to use orchestral hits as a hook. Listening to it now, it sounds incredibly simple and dated, but in 1990 it was exciting stuff. Throw in raps and proto-hardcore rhythms, and you've got a track that would spawn countless imitators and knockoffs, some of which would go on to be much better produced and memorable than what we have here. But hey, Quadrophonia opened the door, so props for that.

And when you get a hit single, it’s a good idea to follow that up with an album. Trouble is, no one had done a rave album before, so there was no template to follow. And listening to Cozmic Jam, Quadrophonia had no idea what to do either.

Strike that. They had an idea, and it was a good one, the original Quadrophonia. So hey, if people liked that, why not do it again? And again? And again? Nearly every track sounds like I’m listening to the same song over and over, only with something other than orchestral hits as the main hook. Not to say these are complete rehashes - there are differences between tracks like Hardhead, Man With The Masterplan, and The Wave Of The Future - but it’s mostly window-dressing to the fact there’s not much musical variation from tune to tune.

I suspect Quadrophonia realized this, as they litter Cozmic Jam with sonic doodles in an attempt to break up the monotony; it doesn’t work. A little better is Find The Time, which gives Marvin D a chance to rap about relationships instead of how their sound is the wave of the future, but were two versions really necessary on this album? Why of course it was, when there are already half a dozen variations of Quadrophonia.

The closer, Theme Of Quadraphonia hints at what could have been if the duo had tried a little harder. Granted, it’s a style-bite of 808 State’s Pacifc, but dammit, it’s something different, and Cozmic Jam needed that. Maybe the album would have stood the test of time better as a result. As it stands, it's permanently stuck in the first rays of rave dawn it was created in, rendering it suitable only for the curious or fans of that era.

Nomad - Changing Cabins

Capitol Records: 1991

Nomad’s ultra-mega hit Devotion was among the first EDM tunes that I noticed, even before 2 Unlimited. The reason for this was Devotion placed higher in the tracklist of the CD they were both featured on (Dance Mix ‘92, for those who care - man, was that ever an influential CD…). I didn’t think much of it then, figuring it just a filler track compared to the up-tempo jams on offer, and would skip it whenever I threw that disc on. Of course, I was a silly young teenager who had a lot to learn about electronic music, but we all start somewhere.

Now, I think Devotion is brilliant, a perfect blend of many wonderful things that made cross-over house popular in the early 90s. The oh-so soulfully sweet chorus, simple enough that it’ll lodge in your head and have you repeating it long after the track’s passed by. Charming production tricks like stadium cheers (thanks, KLF), tinny hooks, bobbing baselines, and subtle bloops abound, plus a rap by a white Brit that’s far from embarrassing. And pads! My god, those perfect pads! They’re barely noticeable, tucked well in the background, yet the dreamy vibe of the song would be utterly lost without them. Even the video’s got that “only in ’91” magic. Yes, I do say Devotion deserves its classic status.

So who the devil was Nomad, and why didn’t they have any more classics? Well, Damon Rochefort, the main brains behind Nomad (name’s a giveaway) seemed to have several other interests he wanted to pursue, and charting big may have given him the financial security to do so. Makes sense, but it’s also possible he explored all he wanted to with this album, Changing Cabins.

Simply put, nearly every variation of house that existed by ’91 can be found here. You got the American-influenced diva stuff, with Sharon Dee Clarke providing most of the pipes. There’s Balearic vibes in Higher Than Heaven, Latin rhythms in Barcelona, and Jamaican toastin’ with The Raggamuffin Number. Devotion also has an upbeat sibling, Just A Groove, which was initially just as successful but is now mostly forgotten, never finding its way onto ‘Old School Anthems’ comps.

Yet, with all these influences on display and production to back it up, Changing Cabins lacks any real identity of its own. In a market that had competition from The KLF, 808 State, and The Shamen - not to mention the burgeoning underground rave scene - simply paying tribute to your inspiration wasn’t enough to stand out from the pack. British acid house had the distinction of being a melting pot of several forms of music, often within the same track. Aside from Devotion and Just A Groove, there’s little of that here, merely playing things straight on a track to track basis.

Changing Cabins isn’t a poor album, but it doesn’t hold surprises or hidden treasures time somehow forgot. If British house of the early 90s holds little interest, just stick with Devotion. Nearly everyone else has.