Method Man & Redman - Blackout!

Def Jam 2000: 1999

I'm not sure where this album sits in the Grand Rap Pantheon anymore. I recall it was a big deal during the lead-up. Meth and Red had a huge collaborative hit in How High, dropping in that oh-so glorious year of hip-hop fire, 1995. And while Method Man's solo career stalled throughout the '90s, Redman kept a steady clip of respected albums going, so a proper full-length outing from the two would be hotly anticipated. Only, in typical Johnny Blaze fashion, the LP dropped nearly half a decade after How High lit up, causing some to lose interest in this collaboration in the process. Let's call those people 'sour pusses'.

So Blackout! finally dropped, and even though folks were wondering if Method Man had fallen off, or if any Wu project could have the same fire as earlier in the decade, it sold buckets. Clearly they still liked Method Man anytime he held the mic or guested on other verses. Surely his charisma would properly shine with an equally skilled microphone commander at his side, the two trading sharp barbs and chin-checka' raps and such. Or the two had been getting so smoked out in the interim, putting this off for so long, that the final result was an album that was good enough, but not the head-banging classic everyone expected. Again, I'm not sure how Blackout! is regarded these days, but man, did it ever feel like a whiff of THC-thick air bellowing out of a bong mere weeks after this came out. They came, they smoked, they rapped, they partied, then they kinda' forgot what the fuss was about in the first place. Oh well, time to start shopping about that script for their own Cheech & Chong movie.

I sense Meth and Red would be fun live, most of the tracks on here little more than party anthems for them to rappity-rap over. Yeah, there's some witty wordplay and fun puns about, but these two aren't going to get super deep with the heavy political or lyrical miracles. Just two stoners going on about how dope they are, how dope their smoked dope be, and how much they love gettin' down with them ladies and hos. So long as the beats bang, they can rap about any ol' nonsense. And that's where I feel this album stumbles some.

There's quite the assortment of Wu and Def Squad personnel behind the consoles on Blackout!, including RZA, Erick Sermon, Mathematics, and Reggie Noble. Even Rockwilder shows up (on Da Rockwilder), while features have Ghostface, Street Life, LL Cool J, Missy Elliot, and Ja Rule, when he was still credible. Seems all fine, but neither guest rapper or beat producer do much to outshine whatever Method Man and Redman are going on about. Which would be fine, if the duo were dropping relentless fire throughout. Instead, all I hear is the hot flame in a burning bowl of dank bud, soon puffed out into a stoned stupor. Seems appropriate.

Raekwon - Shaolin Vs. Wu-Tang

Ice H2o Records: 2011

Sometime last year, I stumbled upon a YouTube video where Raekwon was tasked with ranking all of his albums. What a wonderful concept, thinks I! Sure, you could argue an artist will unequivocally praise everything they release, but if put to the grinder with some proper self-critical honesty, surely some interesting results may come about. Like, how would someone like Neil Young, with his extensive discography, rank his albums? Even he's admitted when some records don't turn out as well as hoped though, so what about a producer who only knows how to blow smoke up their own ass? You know, the Armins and Tiestos of the world.

Anyhow, Raekwon's self-summary didn't reveal that many surprises (even he thinks Immobilarity was a disappointment), but it did clue me into a bunch of his records I had totally forgotten. Yes, even with all the entries at Lord Discogs. Too many mixtapes among the official albums, see, making me wonder what is what and all that rot. His ranking video at least parred things some, with this particular Shaolin Vs. Wu-Tang coming in high near the top of his picks (nothing was gonna' dethrone Only Built For Cuban Linx).

I do recall seeing some stuff about this album, but figured it just another in an endless stream of mixtapes the Chef was cooking up around the time. Rather, this was his attempt to bring the classic, gritty Wu-Tang street style back to the fore', as he believed RZA had led the group too far astray with his musical indulgences. Bold moves, but at some point even the disciples must challenge The Abbot, and with the blessings of RZA's many producing proteges (Alchemist, Mathematics, Bronze Nazareth) plus seasoned vets of hip-hop (Erick Sermon, Scram Jones, DJ Khalil, many others...), this looked to be a dope round of vintage Wu bangers indeed.

And the titular opener starts with those classic chop-sockey samples setting the theme, then urgent strings with thumping beats hit as Rae's flow is focused and commanding. Why does it sound like he's skipping a word or two like he's catching his breath though? It continues into Every Soldier In The Hood, and when Method Man's verse comes in with a third of the words snuffed out, a cold realization hits me: I've ended up with a busted-ass 'clean' version of this album! Bloody Hell, no wonder it was so cheap on Amazon.

Well, that's a bummer. How can I enjoy an album with so many missing lyrics? Why make such a version? Seriously, who's gonna' buy any edited version of a slummy hip-hop album, especially one with hardly a hope of crossover appeal? At least there's an uncensored Spotify option, but man, Shaolin vs. Wu-Tang had no hope of making a solid first impression upon me because of this. Even more damning is, as a long time Wu-Tang fan, there's a lot to like here, but my CD copy will never get another spin. Denied a proper play-through on my proper sound-system, forever.

Boogie Down Productions - Criminal Minded

B-Boy Records/Traffic Entertainment Group: 1987/2016

Can't be a hip-hop completist without having Boogie Down Productions in your collection. Not that I'm under any delusion I'm a completist - I'm in no hurry to add Biggie, Jay-Z, or Lil' Wayne to my rap shelf (far right, lower third). Just saying, if you want hip-hop heads taking you seriously, the group KRS-One built is required study material, this debut album from the BDP posse a Very Important rap album from the '80s. A remarkable feat, considering there's no Rick Rubin or Def Jam association with Criminal Minded. Can't escape the influence of an AC/DC sample in Dope Beat though. But hey, a ton of hip-hop culture cribbed from Boogie Down Productions after, so fair play.

Like gangsta' rap! Only, Criminal Minded isn't gangsta' rap at all, at least not in the way N.W.A. would define it. No doubt KRS-One gets into some gritty street tales, like resorting to gun violence to save his ass from home invaders in 9mm Goes Bang, or dealing with a crack whore in Remix For P Is Free. That's only two tracks out of ten though, hardly enough material to consider this album gangsta' rap through and through. Hell, such tracks aren't even playing up the 'gangsta' lifestyle, no more than Grandmaster Flash's The Message does (and it doesn't). It's that cover art, isn't it, KRS and DJ Scott La Rock all decked out in a small arsenal. Definitely a first of its kind, rappers showing off their guns and ammo rather than their sneakers and jewellery, though seems overplayed for the sake of marketing here. Gotta' draw attention from that crashed jet on License To Ill somehow.

Beyond all that though, Criminal Minded still has its feet within the realm of old-school hip-hop. The beats are simple boom-bap and quick-cut sampling (rock and James Brown, naturally), with Scott La Rock scratching between KRS-One's verses. Meanwhile, Mr. Parker goes off on a variety of topics, mostly showing off his lyrical prowess (Poetry, Word From Our Sponser, Elementary, Criminal Minded) while going after lesser MC – truly, the essence of vintage street battle-rap. In fact, this album was also among the first in bringing crew feuds into the spotlight, KRS-One singling out the Queens rapper MC Shan of the Juice Crew for being a style-biter and “sucker MC” compared to talents from the other Boroughs of New York City. South Bronx and The Bridge Is Over are often name-dropped as seminal classics of 'diss rap', and hearing them even this far out of context, I can't help but lean back and proclaim, “Daaa-yuum!”

And there's more! KRS-One switching between Jamaican toasting and his Bronx flow, properly bringing the two styles together. The tragic fact this was the only material we'd hear from Scott La Rock, murdered later that year. The album's underground status cemented due to years of being out of print from label mismanagement. Me finally knowing where Method Man got that 'super sperm' line from. It's all here! Completist material indeed.

LL Cool J - Mr. Smith

Def Jam Recordings: 1995

Can't be a proper hip-hop head without a little LL Cool J in my collection. Just a shame it's taken me this long to get some. No, wait, that's not true - I did have a Cool J album before, his G.O.A.T. album when I first got into hip-hop. I liked it enough to nab me a copy, but when it came time for the Great CD Pawning Of 2002 (unemployed ass gotta' pay for ramen noodles somehow), it didn't survive the purge. No great loss by most accounts, and while LL's remained an active name in the world of rap, I haven't been compelled to keep tabs on his music. That doesn't excuse me from skipping on his early classics though, so maybe this will finally get my ass hunting for those albums you're supposed to have, even if you're not a LL Cool J fan.

Actually, I think I've already accomplished this with Mr. Smith ...kind of. While not a critical darling on the same level as Bigger And Deffer or Mama Said Knock You Out, it was a successful commercial turnaround for LL after a weak jump on the gangsta fad of the early '90s. Propped up by Platinum-selling singles that catered to the lucrative R&B crowd, even folks who'd never bothered with his '80s output were buying this album up.

That's damn impressive considering how most rappers from the previous decade were constantly being upstaged by fresher talents. For sure those only after the grittiest, grimiest street tales wouldn't have much use for Mr. Smith, but there's a much wider audience than that in the Urban scene, and Cool J tapped into it perfectly. Hell, I remember Doin' It being quite the hit even in my backwoods region of Canada, if only because as snarky teenagers, we'd do mocking sarcastic renditions of the chorus. Joke's on us though, LL soon appearing on Demographic-Approved soundtracks like Beavis And Butthead Do America and Space Jam.

So the R&B tunes were the big hits (including Boyz II Men collab' Hey Lover, and Loungin with the Puff Daddy-produced duo Total). How's the rest of Mr. Smith, then? Good enough, I suppose – no embarrassing attempts at being thug at least. LL gets in several braggadocios cuts showing off his lyrical skills for 'real hip-hop heads', including Make It Hot, I Shot Ya, No Airplay, Mr. Smith, Get Da Drop On 'Em. He also gets in a couple wordplay cuts, one toying with movie titles (Hollis To Hollywood), another giving props to rap acts over the years (Hip Hop). This one's oddly placed in the album though, second track status when it feels like it should be plugged near the end as a tribute.

Production wise, most tunes are handled by a then-new talent called TrackMasters, who's smooth, Eastcoast style would lead them to producing such prominent names like Nas, Foxy Brown, Noreaga, Method Man, and Will Smith. Eh, I'll take Rashad Smith's dubby style myself. He later got Busta Rhymes.

Inspectah Deck - Uncontrolled Substance

Sony Music Entertainment: 1999

As a rebel without a cause, Inspectah Deck leads the charge, forever one of Wu-Tang Clan’s most fiery spitters, but rushing into battle with no clear objective. He’ll drop that philosophical bomb atomically, but what of the follow-through? With a half-dozen albums deep of evidence, he seldom seemed capable of sustaining that first-strike verbal carnage into a lasting campaign. At least, that used to be the charge laid upon one Mr. Hunter, but his recent work as Czarface having redeemed a solo career that never delivered the classic record hip-hop heads expected of him. Who knew adopting the persona of a cyborg crime-fighting mafia-don that can shoot frickin’ laser beams from his eyes would do the trick? I think Czarface is all about that, if the art is anything to go by. I should look into it.

For now though, let’s check out Uncontrolled Substance, Inspectah’s debut from 1999, four years overdue and coming out when Wu-Tang hype was on the wane. Even getting the whole Clan in to help on a project was proving difficult at that point, most members focusing on solo work while building up their own protégés. Compounding problems further for the Rebel INS was the fact the early demo beats RZA had written for his debut were lost in a studio flood, forcing that album to be scrapped and started over. Yes, we were denied vintage mid-‘90s RZA beats with Deck undoubtedly spitting fire over them all, with the full Clan in support.

Instead, we get okay beats from RZA protégés 4th Disciple and True Master, though Deck’s own productions outshine most of theirs. RZA himself provides a pair of beats too, though are far from his glorious early, gritty sounds. Guest spots from the Wu fam’ are sadly minimal, with U-God and Masta Killa only offering a couple verses, and a few additional guest spots from second-tier affiliates like Street Life and Killa Sin.

Ultimately, it’s all on the Rebel INS to carry Uncontrolled Substance, and he does excel there, mostly dominated by battle-raps no one else in the Clan can top, with other stuff mixing things up throughout. There’s hood tales like Word On The Street and Trouble Man (with Pete Rock funk at the board on that one); clubbier offerings like R.E.C. Room and Movas & Shakers (why can’t I ever get Deck’s lyrics of “Bartender! Two Kahlua and milk with crushed ice in the blender” out of my head?); conscious diatribes like The Cause and Elevation (with a Deck beat that was reused in Ghostface’s Supreme Clientele); and some jams for the ladies too (Lovin You, Forget Me Not, and the slinky noir-funk of Femme Fatale… wait, that’s two reviews in a row with a Femme Fatale… the odds, mang!). Strangely, it’s a couple interludes, where Inspectah’s freestyling over a pounding 808 beat, that get me charged the most. They’re only ten seconds each, but damn if I wouldn’t pay good money to hear a full record of that!

Big L - Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous

Columbia: 1995

The story of Big L is one of so much promise, and so senselessly squandered by random acts of street violence. He may have been lost in a plethora of Eastcoast rappers carving out their fame in the ‘90s, but dropping what’s often cited as one of the underground hip-hop classics at a mere 20 years of age is nothing short of incredible. Think of all the heavy hitters of the era he was up against: Biggie, Wu-Tang, Nas, Mobb Deep, not to mention the emergent Jay-Z, DMX, Big Pun, and, um, Ma$e (plus probably a dozen more I’m neglecting an obligatory namedrop). It’s understandable that someone as lyrically raw as Lamont Coleman would fall through the cracks, another casualty of a major label bungling young careers. Whether he would have found a commercial breakthrough in the new millennium, or remain one of the underground’s champions remains one of the tantalizing “what ifs?” of hip-hop lore. Sadly it was not to be, Big L murdered in a drive-by before the age of 25.

I’d heard of the Brooklyn rapper when starting my dig through hip-hop, though mostly in passing reference. A shortened discography didn’t help matters, Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous his only record released while still alive, while the posthumous The Big Picture (1974-1999) gathered material he’d been making for a second album. The latter offered us Ebonics, an incredibly clever track showcasing amazing lyricism that clued me in that I should be giving Big L some proper attention. Another factor was the live shout-out Gang Starr gave him as the very first track on their double-CD retrospective collection Full Clip: A Decade Of Gang Starr. The fact these legends would do such a thing on a release centered on their career suggested Big L was definitely an MC worthy of some stature. Finally, after a friend from out East came for a visit and kept insisting we play some Big L on a road trip, well, that just sealed the deal.

And playing through Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous, yeah,I hear how this young MC put even Nas on notice. His topics are well-tread street rap, but nonetheless gripping as he spits his rhymes. Weaving tales of the ‘hood life, survival of the illest, gotta’ do what you gotta’ do to get through it all, all the while questioning why lesser MCs in the game are getting mad paid while talent such as his languishes in obscurity. Big L’s lyricism is spotless, vivid with his imagery, dynamic with his multi-syllabic rhymes (known as ‘compounding’ apparently; always learning something new!), riding beats with flow that’s fierce yet smooth. The music production is almost entirely that Eastcoast funk-n-jazz loop based stylee, mostly handled by his Diggin’ In The Crates Crew members Buckwild and Lord Finesse (you’ve heard their beats before, trust). It all reminds me of Del’s No Need For Alarm, hip-hop strictly for the underground heads, though with heavier Eastcoast grit and menace. Mint material, all this.

Method Man - Tical 2000: Judgement Day

Def Jam Recordings: 1998

A four year gap isn’t that much, all things considered. ‘90s hip-hop though, things were moving fast, stars rising and falling at an unprecedented rate, fueled by an MC arms race to the top of Mount Brag-N-Swagmore. Your label could only achieve immortal greatness if you had the best talent signed to your print. Death Row had 2Pac, Bad Boy had Biggie, No Limit had Snoop Dogg, Loud had Wu-Tang Clan, and so on. Def Jam had many legends to their name too, but most of them had established careers, showing little of the spit and fire needed that propelled the emergent labels of the ‘90s to the top. As a quick signee to Def Jam after the smashing success of Wu-Tang’s debut, Method Man looked to be the breakout star of the group, one that would usher in a new generation of hungry MCs for the storied print that Rick Rubin built.

One problem though: Mr. Clifford Smith wasn’t interested in being a solo star, completely content sharing the spotlight as part of a back-n-forth (Redman, Street Life) or a crew of equally charismatic rappers (Wu-Tang, Monstars, heh). All fine and well if one’s career aspirations stay humble, but when everyone from the fans on the streets to the CEOs in the record label towers demand more, four years turns to an agonizing wait, one the Ticallion Stallion gleefully mocks in Tical 2000 through a series of phone call skits. People ranging from accountants to radio DJs to even the tribble-cultivator Trump himself all chime in wondering what the bloodclot is taking Meth’ so long with this album.

Figuring out a theme would be my guess. Of course the nearing millennium would spark some inspiration, but aside from the opening and closing tracks (Perfect World and Judgement Day), it’s not a subject touched upon. Instead, Johnny Blaze runs the gamut of witty wordplay, sexy wordplay, thug life wordplay, club don’ wordplay, and that’s about it. Hey, it’s not like the subject matter in his lyrics have mattered much of a damn - Method Man could have excelled through sheer charisma alone, his deft skills on the mic’ keeping you hooked once reeled in.

Unfortunately, even that isn’t enough to save Tical 2000 from the sin of filler. Despite folks clamoring for more Method Man, most everyone agrees there’s too much bloat given the limited amount of topics covered. No matter how solid the beats are or how hype the guest spots are (seriously, I’ve never heard Street Life sound this good!), it all turns to repetitive mush in the back-half. It probably doesn’t help that the midpoint offers a hilarious Chris Rock skit, where the comedian goes on a never ending spree of Method Man aliases that cannot be stopped by gunshot, nor rabid dogs, nor rabid dolphins. Hell, he can’t even be killed by fire, and even The Thing could be killed by fire. After a high such as that, there’s only down to go.

Method Man - Tical

Def Jam Recordings: 1994

Over three years since I dropped my first Wu-Tang Clan review, I’m finally doing a solo album from the M.E.T.H.O.D. Man. That’s just silly. Consider: I’ve talked up four Raekwon LPs, four Ghostface LPs, three from Deck, three from GZA, plus efforts from RZA, ODB, Masta Killa, and even U-God! Also consider: one Clifford Smith kicked-off the solo Wu-joint concept, his debut dropping but a year after Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers). While it seemed likely a few of these MCs could sustain a career away from the Clan, there was little doubt Method Man was the breakout of the group, destined for superstar greatness in the world of hip-hop. It, um, didn’t quite turn out that way, explicitly because he never fully capitalized on all that initial momentum and good fortune. His album output has been sporadic and frequently underwhelming, yours truly seldom feeling the need to dig beyond his ‘90s output. And since his first few LPs centered on the concept of “tical”, here’s poor ol’ Cliff, way down in the ‘T’s of my CDs, thus bringing up the rear of Wu-Tang Clan solo joint reviews. Not that he’d give a shit either way.

Way back when though, everything looked peachy-keen for Johnny Blaze, his gruff charisma landing him a quick deal with hip-hop’s premier print, Def Jam Recordings. And why not, the label that gave us LL Cool J, Beastie Boys, Public Enemy, and Slick Rick undoubtedly anxious to get in on that hot Wu-Tang stylee, with nothing less than the group’s star MC as part of their official roster. And for sure, they got themselves some future classics of the hip-hop pantheon with Tical. Bring The Pain oozes street swagger with all the freestylin’ lyricism as found in his classic eponymous track from Enter The Wu-Tang. All I Need is a surprisingly affectionate ‘slum love song’ establishing ol’ Method as a rough ‘n’ tumble ladies man. And Release Yo’ Delf is a fun, rugged anthem for the club. The rest of Tical though… ah, hm.

As was the case on all the early Wu-solo records, RZA handles the bulk of the beats, and as Method Man has a gruff, gravely persona, so too does the music provided. Everything sounds rough, unpolished, dragged through Shaolin grime and muck, covered in a thick fog of hemp smoke. And dear Lord, some of the bass on this is absolutely crushing, the heaviest you’ll hear on nearly any Wu-Tang album. Sub Crazy alone must have broken many a poor, unsuspecting sub-whoofer. Sometimes though, it’s too much, the bass burying Meth’ and any other MC in the mixdown - Biscuits in particular is downright indecipherable. Yet given how clear the lyrics come through in other tracks, I can only assume the muddiness is intentional on RZA’s part, maintaining the Wu’s ghetto-grit mystic even as they began their empire expansion. Personally, I dig it, but Tical is left a difficult album to get into, one capably aided with an eponymous substance.

Raekwon - Only Built For Cuban Linx...

Loud Records: 1995

Finally, after diddling about with less-heralded Raekwon albums on this blog, it’s the big one: Only Built For Cuban Linx. You can't understate how massive the Chef's solo debut was when it dropped, overshadowing Mr. Woods' career forever after. Hell, how many times have I name-dropped Cuban Linx here? A few times, I wager. As always with these classic hip-hop LPs, there's little more I can say that hasn't been exhaustively covered by other, deeply immersed chroniclers of rap musics. I'm just a passive fan of the stuff, and Hip-Hop Sykonee ain't coming back to this reality.

What elevated this album into its top tier status was how it added an unexpected dynamic to the then young Wu-Tang Clan saga. Enter The 36 Chambers established a whole crew of talented MCs, but as Method Man and Ol' Dirty Bastard were easily distinguished from the rest, its little surprise they'd do solo joints immediately after. Who'd be next though? GZA seemed likely for another LP, and that Inspectah Deck guy was spitting some fire. Maybe he would- wait, Raekwon? Really? Yeah, he was good too, but not so charismatic as the others. He came off like a little attack dog on the Wu-Tang album and guest spots, barking a bunch as the big dogs swaggered about. Good as a side-man, sure, but a full solo's worth? Well, okay, let's see what you have.

Now this... this is interesting. Instead of another straight-forward run of battle rhymes, pornographic come-ons, and gritty street tales, we're offered a complex narrative, centred on a Mafioso theme. Though not the first time a hip-hop performer was influenced by mob films and lore, seldom had anyone done it so thoroughly as Rae' here. As was expected, the extended Wu family was brought in for guest verses, including ample appearances of Ghostface Killah, who’d already established himself as Rae’s right to his left (y’know, “form like Voltron”?). To sell his crime drama though, the Chef had his crew take on all new aliases that fit his vision. RZA became Bobby Steels, Inspectah Deck became Rollie Fingers, Method Man was now Johnny Blaze, and even a guest appearing Nas took on the alias Nas Escobar. With everyone all in on Cuban Linx’s concept, an instant classic was all but guaranteed here. The Wu-Tang Clan proved beyond a shadow of a doubt they could mix their personas up as needed to fit the music they wished to create.

Of course, the two key ingredients are Raekwon and RZA. No longer the ‘barking’ MC on prior albums, he was suddenly calm, cool, and collected as a rapper, spewing insane amounts of new lyrical vernacular and slang that left the hip-hop world scrambling to decipher and catch up. Meanwhile, Bobby Steels raided his blaxploitation influences, completing Cuban Linx’s ‘rising above the streets’ narrative (with a little Scarface thrown in for good measure). There honestly isn’t another album in the Wu-Tang canon that sounds like it. Reason enough to get this, yes?

U-God - The Keynote Speaker

Soul Temple Entertainment: 2013

I'm gonna' sound like a total Wu-Tang hipster here, but I was into U-God before it was cool. While I understand why fans of the Clan wouldn't rank Mr. Hawkins' MC skills as high as the other members, I've never understood the derision he's received. As the obligatory baritone of a full Clan of talent, he's always fit whatever hook or verse handed to him, with a be-boppin' style that sounds great to my white-ass ears. Seriously, just listen to him ride any beat, and realize he's just as talented as the rest of the Wu crew, even if it's within a specific role.

Right, I wasn’t so into him that I copped every release of his (okay, none), but when folks started hyping up his third album, Dopium, I nodded, figuring the general hip-hop community was finally cluing into what I long suspected: U-God is a great MC, and simply had a bad run of record label luck in launching a solo career. Interest in how he was to follow Dopium grew, heads wondering if that album was a fluke or if ol’ Golden Arms was finally on firm ground, ready to cement his legacy within the hip-hop canon. Enter The Keynote Speaker.

This is the sort of Wu-Tang solo album most fans anticipate, a member spotlight with guest verses from the Clan fam’ for followers of those particular MCs – The RZA getting an ‘Executive Producer’ credit doesn’t hurt either, even contributing a few beats for U-God to spit over (discordant soul in the ‘bad day in the life’ tale Room Keep Spinning; street noir in Get Mine; ?? southern screw in Be Right There?). One DJ Homicide provides the bulk of the beats though, mostly feeding vintage Eastcoast funk-n-soul loops that U-God has no problem riding. In fact, most of The Keynote Speaker feels like a mid-‘90s throwback, little in the way of modern hip-hop finding its way here. The aforementioned Be Right There aside, only Stars (epic trance synths!) and Golden Arms (trap!) come off contemporary, and I’m surprised I like these tunes as much as I do (strictly old-school, this white boy be). U-God himself sounds in fine form, and while his lyrical topics don’t stray far from his comfort zone (a couple street stories; “ya’ll doubted me, here’s proof of my skills”; etc.), it’s as I expected anyway. Baby Huey’s found his groove, so why ruin a good thing?

If you’re still uncertain whether to spring for a U-God album, The Keynote Speaker includes a bonus disc of Soul Temple Entertainment affiliated Wu material (it’s the label where many Clan members have found new homes on). There’s a couple cuts from Ghostface’s critically hailed Twelve Ways To Die album, Wu-Tang joints from RZA’s movie The Man With The Iron Fists, and a Shaolin Soul Selection mash-up from RZA himself, where he spotlights the original records he nicked many of his classic samples from. Almost worth the price of admission alone right there, mang!

Naughty By Nature - 19 Naughty III

ISBA Music Entertainment Inc.: 1993

Yo! This is Hip-Hop Sykonee, comin' in from another existence and taking over this shit. See, I'm the villain who could'a been, who should'a been, but wasn't because of a last-minute change of mind from the 'technoboy' here. Had I stuck with my original choice of First CD, this here Naughty By Nature sophomore album 19 Naughty III, my teenaged musical development would have been radically different, gorging myself on all these hip-hop talents. Yo, I might even be writing ill shit for RapReviews.com now, unlike the regular wack mofo you deal with on this back-water blog.

Sykonee Prime: Are you so sure of that? I had rap tunes on mixtapes. Hell, I bought the CB4 soundtrack the following year. Okay, it was to impress my peers, which was the impetuous in me initially choosing 19 Naughty III anyway. My enjoyment of ‘techno’ was naturally bred, with hardly any outside influences dictating what I should listen to for social acceptance.

HHS: That’s just it! Had you copped this first, you’d have played it just as heavily as your early CDs, if for no other reason than you didn’t have much choice of selection in your personal collection then. But check it, hommes, those repeated plays would have sucked you into hip-hop’s world, 19 Naughty III offering just enough a glimpse of the scene to check out more. Like, Hip-Hop Hooray. Damn, what a classic! Maybe not as cheeky as NbN’s breakout hit O.P.P. (yeah, you know me!), but if you were at any sort of club, you know this bomb would go off.

SP: I do recall waving my arms to the chorus at high-school dances. Still, it’s about the only song anyone remembers from this album.

HHS: Which makes the rest of 19 Naughty III perfect for the discerning underground head. Despite having crossover appeal, Naughty By Nature were never a Pop-Hop act, fully embracing the self-proclaimed ‘cruddy crew’ image they cultivated. They weren’t gangsta, but they could weave street tales (The Only Ones; Daddy Was A Street Corner) just as fine as any rap act. Or how about straight-up battle-rapping as a posse? Cuts like Take It To Ya Face, Knock Em Out Da Box, and Hot Potato have vicious lyrical throw-downs without degrading into ultra-violent parody. Plus we can’t forget d’em smooth-yet-dirty come-ones for the ladies (Written On Ya Kitten, Sleepin’ On Jersey, Cruddy Clique); none of that R&B bullshit here, Syk’G.

SP: The beats are dope too - tough Eastcoast flavour, and plenty block-party bounce going on for me to get my boogie-bop going walking to school with headphones on. Y’know, I’m kinda’ feelin’ what you’re preachin’. 19 Naughty III just might have been enough to steer me down hip-hop’s road after all.

HHS: Word. So, I get the blog now?

SP: Well, the next review’s of Amon Tobin’s debut.

HHS: Th’fuck?

SP: Nu-jazz spazziatic IDM, or something.

HHS: Err, yeah. Look, I gotta’ jam back to my reality. Damn, son, you got into some weird shit here.

Nas - Illmatic

Columbia: 1994

The only Nas album you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not much of a Nas fan. That’s what everyone will tell you, and given his storied career, that’s some incredible praise to be had for Illmatic. So like any good hip-hop head, you go and get the CD or vinyl (no MP3 cheating, son!), throw it on, and think, “Yeah, this some good shit, back when hip-hop was best. Lovin’ those Eastcoast beats. Damn fine lyrics, Nas. This truly is illmatic and- what, it’s already done? That’s it!?”

‘Tis true, one of the most essential hip-hop albums of the ‘90s is also one of the shortest, clocking in at under forty minutes of your time, including a near two minute intro. And once It Ain’t Hard To Tell fades off, you’re left hanging, hungry for more. Illmatic’s almost calculated in its succinctness, building hype for the next release with just a teaser, a taste of what Mr. Nasir Jones could bring to the table (as if live freestyles around New York weren’t already enough). Most rappers these days have to generate such hype by way of the mixtape circuit, and here’s Nas doing it as a proper debut.

I can’t say it’s worked for me, though, as Nas in general hasn’t interested me much beyond respecting nods on the tracks I’ve heard him guest-verse. This is going to sound totally lame on my part, but even though ol’ Nasir’s main strength’s long been considered his lyrics, he has a voice and flow I find boring and un-dynamic. Just because his style is more a storyteller than a hype man doesn’t mean he couldn’t show more enthusiasm. Maybe his albums have him showing more passion, but if Illmatic is considered his best, I’m kind of doubting it, as he exhibits the same flow here as I’ve heard everywhere else.

Whatever. I’m a twat for thinking this way about Nas, but along with the laid-back jazzy vibes this album holds, his flow is appropriate. I couldn’t think those piano loops on The World Of Yours, organ licks on Memory Lane, xylophone plinks of One Love, or mix-up of everything in N.Y. State Of Mind working any better if Nas was shouting a bunch over them. There’s definitely urgency in his voice as he narrates his tales – street hustling, recollections of youth, or prophesying the future; the topics covered are generally what you’d expect of Eastcoast rap – so he will keep your attention. It’s just, damn, them backing tracks are mint. Dealing drugs, are ya’ (One Time 4 Your Mind)? That’s nice, Nas, but let me focus on that dope bassline some more. Yeah, that’s the stuff.

Okay, this review’s been lacking, I admit it. Illmatic deserves its classic status, but I’m the last person to tell you since I’m just parroting the narrative. To give a more informed opinion of it, I’d have to digest ten more of Nas' albums. And, well… yeah.