Koch Records: 2003
As a point man in the Wu-Tang Clan, Inspectah Deck is without equal, many all-time classic cuts featuring him leading the lyrical charge. When doing guest verses, Rebel INS can often steal the show, and I wonder the only reason he doesn’t is because he’s just classy that way. As a solo artist, Mr. J.K. Hunter is, ah… not as good. Maybe it’s not so surprising, as this trend's been the solo-Wu narrative since seemingly forever; or at least Wu-Tang Forever. It’s also an unfair narrative, one blinded by the brilliance of the Clan’s first half-decade of work and near-impossible expectations put upon the ensuing years. Some still meet those lofty peaks (oh hi, Ghostface), while others, not so much (um, yo, Method Man).
Inspectah Deck always seems stuck in the middle that mountain, albums that never outright suck but lacking in the highlights that’s defined the best of his peers. I’ve only gathered up three of his four LPs, so I can’t say this holds true with Manifesto, but seeing how his first three disappointed when they first came out, I can’t say I’m in a hurry to get that one. Of those first three, they’re different beasts to tackle, so let’s get going on Rebel INS’ sophomore album, The Movement.
First, context. The year was 2003 and hip-hop had basically buried the beefs and gone about promoting itself as a culture only concerned with attaining bling status - the Jay-Z-slash-50 Cent fallout, if you will. While some rappers had no problem remaining street or conscious, nearly everyone was obligated at providing club bangers on their LPs. Okay, fine, the Wu’s had a few hits in this regard, and- well, no. I like beats that bang, for sure, but what Deck offers here comes off as lip service. Going on about Shorty Right There with Street Life, or Bumpin And Grindin… ugh, INS, you’re better than that. Much better.
Okay, the good shit. Proving he’s lyrically above and beyond his peers is always mint, and we get a few tunes of that type. Stories of hustling and taking hip-hop back to the proper streets? Yeah, there’s a bunch of that. Not much else, to be honest, but that’s fine, since these are topics Deck’s always been ace at. Unfortunately, while Deck doesn’t falter with his verses, some choruses are just pants. That Shit and Get Right are two of the worst (that’s not the aforementioned club junk), and unfortunately come early in the album, never a good way of holding an already suspicious listener base suspecting another disappointing Wu effort.
Get past that though, and you’ll find plenty of New York funk and soul loops to enjoy, and lyricism to match. If The Movement can be faulted for anything, it’s a few too many tracks and wonky pacing (Vendetta is a perfect closer, yet is nowhere near the end). This is an album that’s good enough from Deck, but it still wasn’t the awesome fans kept hoping for.
Showing posts with label conscious. Show all posts
Showing posts with label conscious. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Eminem - The Marshall Mathers LP 2
Interscope Records: 2013
Remember when Eminem released Lose Yourself? Along with being his all-time best charting single, it also presented us a Mr. Mathers unlike anything we'd seen before, its anthem guitar licks and rousing chorus inspirational rather than confrontational. It won over even his most ardent detractors within the hip-hop community, placing him firmly at the top of his game. Earning such status within the rap world, the only place left he could go was down. So down he went, though no one expected it happening as suddenly as it did.
A bunch of crazy stuff followed in the ensuing decade, but imagine if it hadn't. Imagine if Eminem carried on from that peak undeterred from all the personal problems affecting him. The Marshall Mathers LP 2 is as close to hearing that possibility as we'll likely ever hear.
Throughout this album, Em' goes on about the trials he faced growing up, reflecting on his career, and simply showing off why he's long been regarded one of the best MCs to ever command a microphone. All topics he's covered before, true, but there's more fire in his spitting, more urgency in his delivery, and even humbleness for his success alongside his rapping bravado. This is the recovery everyone hoped he'd reached at some point, and if it took a call-back to his most successful album, so be it.
Like I said though, MMLP2 feels more like Lose Yourself-era Em', especially with big, catchy guitar licks galore (oh hi, Ricky Rubin). That said, the music's still very much of the here and now, even when purposefully trying to sound like 1986 – no one could wring that much mileage out of a TB-808 back in the day. There's not a duff cut in the lot, plenty of variety between the beats, and enough ear-worm tracks that you'll seldom reach for the skip button. I'm not so much a fan of the 'Rhianna-duet' clones (including hers), but they're few and far between.
So yes, The Marshall Mathers LP 2 is as solid an album as folks have claimed. Of course, the million dollar question is whether it's better than the original Marshall Mathers LP. It's by a hair-width, but no, MMLP2 is not a better overall album.
Despite containing a superior selection of tracks, that's all they are: tracks. You could shuffle most of these, subtract a few, perhaps add some from the deluxe version, and it wouldn't affect the music's flow or even the final product much. MMLP1, on the other hand, feels like a cohesive whole, where the weaker parts (skits, repetitive topics in the back-half) accentuate the standout moments and roller-coaster of emotions you might experience. As a play-through, MMLP1 is more complete, even if I'm not nodding my head as often as MMLP2. Still, if having tune after tune of Eminem reminding us why he deserves his crown after all these years, then The Marshall Mathers LP 2 shouldn't be missed, even by ‘proper album experience’ twits like myself.
Remember when Eminem released Lose Yourself? Along with being his all-time best charting single, it also presented us a Mr. Mathers unlike anything we'd seen before, its anthem guitar licks and rousing chorus inspirational rather than confrontational. It won over even his most ardent detractors within the hip-hop community, placing him firmly at the top of his game. Earning such status within the rap world, the only place left he could go was down. So down he went, though no one expected it happening as suddenly as it did.
A bunch of crazy stuff followed in the ensuing decade, but imagine if it hadn't. Imagine if Eminem carried on from that peak undeterred from all the personal problems affecting him. The Marshall Mathers LP 2 is as close to hearing that possibility as we'll likely ever hear.
Throughout this album, Em' goes on about the trials he faced growing up, reflecting on his career, and simply showing off why he's long been regarded one of the best MCs to ever command a microphone. All topics he's covered before, true, but there's more fire in his spitting, more urgency in his delivery, and even humbleness for his success alongside his rapping bravado. This is the recovery everyone hoped he'd reached at some point, and if it took a call-back to his most successful album, so be it.
Like I said though, MMLP2 feels more like Lose Yourself-era Em', especially with big, catchy guitar licks galore (oh hi, Ricky Rubin). That said, the music's still very much of the here and now, even when purposefully trying to sound like 1986 – no one could wring that much mileage out of a TB-808 back in the day. There's not a duff cut in the lot, plenty of variety between the beats, and enough ear-worm tracks that you'll seldom reach for the skip button. I'm not so much a fan of the 'Rhianna-duet' clones (including hers), but they're few and far between.
So yes, The Marshall Mathers LP 2 is as solid an album as folks have claimed. Of course, the million dollar question is whether it's better than the original Marshall Mathers LP. It's by a hair-width, but no, MMLP2 is not a better overall album.
Despite containing a superior selection of tracks, that's all they are: tracks. You could shuffle most of these, subtract a few, perhaps add some from the deluxe version, and it wouldn't affect the music's flow or even the final product much. MMLP1, on the other hand, feels like a cohesive whole, where the weaker parts (skits, repetitive topics in the back-half) accentuate the standout moments and roller-coaster of emotions you might experience. As a play-through, MMLP1 is more complete, even if I'm not nodding my head as often as MMLP2. Still, if having tune after tune of Eminem reminding us why he deserves his crown after all these years, then The Marshall Mathers LP 2 shouldn't be missed, even by ‘proper album experience’ twits like myself.
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Eminem - The Marshall Mathers LP
Interscope Records: 2000
I admit I've yet to check out The Marshall Mathers LP 2. Yes, I know it's been heralded as a proper-proper return to form for Eminem (no, for realsies this time!). To be honest though, it's hard to get excited about anything Eminem's done for over a decade now, as I gave up on his shtick around the D12 debut, not even bothering with The Eminem Show (“nobody listens to techno”? Lamest. Diss. Ever.).
For all the verbal dexterity lil' Slim's given us over the years, I suspected early he's only as good as he's got something poignant to prove. Slim Shady LP was about making his mark, Marshall Mathers LP's about dealing with his successful aftermath and not coming off as a novelty (hey, look at the good white rapper!). The Eminem Show though, what's left to prove? Sure, he can still come up with decent songs filled with sly wit, but it's a treading album. If I want to hear more of Em' dealing with fame, issues, and shit, I'll just throw on MMLP again, thanks. It's got better songs. After that... well, I jumped ship early, and turns out my assumptions about Eminem's drive as an artist weren't far off. Still, if the buzz surrounding MMLP2 is true, it would indeed appear that he's hungry in all the right ways again.
But enough of that. What is it about MMLP that’s held in such high esteem more than a decade on? Part of it truly was the growth in maturity as an artist Em’ showed us. Few rappers got as big as Mr. Mathers did in such a rapid amount of time, if ever. Lesser MCs often take their newfound fame as a chance to endlessly brag, but Em’ gives us a remarkably humble inside look into the pitfalls of such notoriety. Whether detailing over-obsessive fandom (Stan, The Real Slim Shady, Who Knew) or the societal conditions that could create an icon such as Slim Shady (The Way I Am, Marshall Mathers, Bitch Please II, Criminal), he illuminates American problems along with the shock stories and battle raps. Yep, he proved he could do conscious hip-hop!
It also helped he had Dr. Dre on hand while the good doc’ was still on fire after Chronic 2001’s success, giving us strong beats aplenty with few duds. One of the few non-Dre highlights is the megahit Stan, whom introduced Dido to the US (eh, I already knew her through Faithless), and convinced housewives all over to buy this album. Imagine their surprise at how the rest of the album went, including the brutal endurance test that is Kim at the other end. Em’ also produced the fiery The Way I Am, proving his capabilities behind the boards as well with pen and paper.
This used to be the only Eminem album you were supposed to have, even if you weren’t an Eminem fan. Guess I’ll have to check out MMLP2 now to confirm that. Things I do for accuracy.
I admit I've yet to check out The Marshall Mathers LP 2. Yes, I know it's been heralded as a proper-proper return to form for Eminem (no, for realsies this time!). To be honest though, it's hard to get excited about anything Eminem's done for over a decade now, as I gave up on his shtick around the D12 debut, not even bothering with The Eminem Show (“nobody listens to techno”? Lamest. Diss. Ever.).
For all the verbal dexterity lil' Slim's given us over the years, I suspected early he's only as good as he's got something poignant to prove. Slim Shady LP was about making his mark, Marshall Mathers LP's about dealing with his successful aftermath and not coming off as a novelty (hey, look at the good white rapper!). The Eminem Show though, what's left to prove? Sure, he can still come up with decent songs filled with sly wit, but it's a treading album. If I want to hear more of Em' dealing with fame, issues, and shit, I'll just throw on MMLP again, thanks. It's got better songs. After that... well, I jumped ship early, and turns out my assumptions about Eminem's drive as an artist weren't far off. Still, if the buzz surrounding MMLP2 is true, it would indeed appear that he's hungry in all the right ways again.
But enough of that. What is it about MMLP that’s held in such high esteem more than a decade on? Part of it truly was the growth in maturity as an artist Em’ showed us. Few rappers got as big as Mr. Mathers did in such a rapid amount of time, if ever. Lesser MCs often take their newfound fame as a chance to endlessly brag, but Em’ gives us a remarkably humble inside look into the pitfalls of such notoriety. Whether detailing over-obsessive fandom (Stan, The Real Slim Shady, Who Knew) or the societal conditions that could create an icon such as Slim Shady (The Way I Am, Marshall Mathers, Bitch Please II, Criminal), he illuminates American problems along with the shock stories and battle raps. Yep, he proved he could do conscious hip-hop!
It also helped he had Dr. Dre on hand while the good doc’ was still on fire after Chronic 2001’s success, giving us strong beats aplenty with few duds. One of the few non-Dre highlights is the megahit Stan, whom introduced Dido to the US (eh, I already knew her through Faithless), and convinced housewives all over to buy this album. Imagine their surprise at how the rest of the album went, including the brutal endurance test that is Kim at the other end. Em’ also produced the fiery The Way I Am, proving his capabilities behind the boards as well with pen and paper.
This used to be the only Eminem album you were supposed to have, even if you weren’t an Eminem fan. Guess I’ll have to check out MMLP2 now to confirm that. Things I do for accuracy.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
GZA/Genius - Liquid Swords
Geffen Records
The only solo-Wu album you're supposed to have, if you're any kind of fan of the Wu-Tang Clan. Yeah, yeah, you can point to plenty other albums as strong offerings from the group, though Liquid Swords almost unanimously holds a Top 5 position regardless. What separates this one from, say, Only Built For Cuban Linx or Supreme Clientele, is it’s as much a RZA album as it is a showcase of The Genius’, erm, lyrical genius. He’d had over two years to refine the minimalist, grimy, funk-soul groove by way of kung-fu style pioneered with Enter The Wu-Tang Clan, thus Liquid Swords comes of like the Wu-Tang album RZA could have made if he’d waited a little longer to unleash his master project.
True, Bobby Steele had worked on Method Man and Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s solo albums in that time, but those seemed custom tailored to each of their personalities. Gary Grice, on the other hand, was on a comparable wavelength with his cousin in where the two hoped to take the Wu’s style, so it makes sense his first solo outing as GZA ended rich with the chop-socky mysticism and dark-as-fuck music.
My God, I could go on forever about how awesome these tracks are! Gold’s cold, operatic backing with a piecing whine; smooth as satin pianos in Duel Of The Iron Mic; the clumpity rhythms and twitchy synths of Killah Hills 10304; the guitar plucks and desolate emptiness of Cold World. And that’s just the music. GZA’s great as always with what he brings to the mic, and the rest of the Wu (all contribute in some way, though some more than others) are all still in mid-‘90s hungry mode, A-games from the whole damn Clan.
Okay, the album’s brilliance is common knowledge, accepted lore, and biological fact. I’m adding nothing here by repeating the Liquid Swords narrative. I wonder, though, of a review impossibility: someone who loved Mr. Grice’s first album, Words From The Genius, but loathed this one. I wonder... *cue Wayne’s World fade*
And gangsta rap claims another promising young hip-hop artist. It was ridiculous enough that Will Smith and Jazzy Jeff did it, but someone calling himself The Genius shouldn’t be elaborating street violence and drug deals. Well, okay, he did on his excellent debut album too, but at least Life Of A Drug Dealer retained Cold Chillin’s excellent upbeat, funky production. The music on Liquid Swords is so depressing and gloomy. Even the opening titular cut, the funkiest old-school track on here, is undone by bookending it with that samurai movie dialog.
Content aside, I guess The Genius – sorry, The GZA - still sounds as good as he did on his debut, but he hardly gets a chance to shine solo, tons of guest versus from that Wu-Tang group he’s now hanging with showing up. Man, what happened, Gary? You could have kept the old-school party vibes alive, not jump on this slummy bandwagon.
Mm, yeah, well maybe not.
The only solo-Wu album you're supposed to have, if you're any kind of fan of the Wu-Tang Clan. Yeah, yeah, you can point to plenty other albums as strong offerings from the group, though Liquid Swords almost unanimously holds a Top 5 position regardless. What separates this one from, say, Only Built For Cuban Linx or Supreme Clientele, is it’s as much a RZA album as it is a showcase of The Genius’, erm, lyrical genius. He’d had over two years to refine the minimalist, grimy, funk-soul groove by way of kung-fu style pioneered with Enter The Wu-Tang Clan, thus Liquid Swords comes of like the Wu-Tang album RZA could have made if he’d waited a little longer to unleash his master project.
True, Bobby Steele had worked on Method Man and Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s solo albums in that time, but those seemed custom tailored to each of their personalities. Gary Grice, on the other hand, was on a comparable wavelength with his cousin in where the two hoped to take the Wu’s style, so it makes sense his first solo outing as GZA ended rich with the chop-socky mysticism and dark-as-fuck music.
My God, I could go on forever about how awesome these tracks are! Gold’s cold, operatic backing with a piecing whine; smooth as satin pianos in Duel Of The Iron Mic; the clumpity rhythms and twitchy synths of Killah Hills 10304; the guitar plucks and desolate emptiness of Cold World. And that’s just the music. GZA’s great as always with what he brings to the mic, and the rest of the Wu (all contribute in some way, though some more than others) are all still in mid-‘90s hungry mode, A-games from the whole damn Clan.
Okay, the album’s brilliance is common knowledge, accepted lore, and biological fact. I’m adding nothing here by repeating the Liquid Swords narrative. I wonder, though, of a review impossibility: someone who loved Mr. Grice’s first album, Words From The Genius, but loathed this one. I wonder... *cue Wayne’s World fade*
And gangsta rap claims another promising young hip-hop artist. It was ridiculous enough that Will Smith and Jazzy Jeff did it, but someone calling himself The Genius shouldn’t be elaborating street violence and drug deals. Well, okay, he did on his excellent debut album too, but at least Life Of A Drug Dealer retained Cold Chillin’s excellent upbeat, funky production. The music on Liquid Swords is so depressing and gloomy. Even the opening titular cut, the funkiest old-school track on here, is undone by bookending it with that samurai movie dialog.
Content aside, I guess The Genius – sorry, The GZA - still sounds as good as he did on his debut, but he hardly gets a chance to shine solo, tons of guest versus from that Wu-Tang group he’s now hanging with showing up. Man, what happened, Gary? You could have kept the old-school party vibes alive, not jump on this slummy bandwagon.
Mm, yeah, well maybe not.
Labels:
1995,
album,
conscious,
Geffen Records,
GZA,
hip-hop,
RZA,
Wu-Tang Clan
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
GZA/Genius - Legend Of The Liquid Sword
MCA Records: 2002
We're long past the age where most post-millennial Wu-Tang solo albums are met with disappointment. Now, articles crop up of looking back at potential overlooked gems, of which there were a few, let’s be honest. Everyone kept expecting the Clan members to continue their mid-‘90s brilliance, all the while bypassing several solid hip-hop albums in their own right. And poor Gary Grice, did he ever get passed by. Beneath The Surface generated some initial excitement, true, and his work with DJ Muggs on Grandmasters got briefly hyped as well, but his other two albums not so much.
Yet while Pro Tools has recently gained some level of respect, Legend Of The Liquid Swords remains one of GZA’s least talked about albums. For the love of me, I cannot understand why. Did it come out at the wrong time? I’ll grant 2002 was not a good year to be making a lyrically conscious album when the burgeoning hot raps consisted mostly of “WHO! WHAT! WHEN! WHERE!”, but surely anything The Genius had to say should have turned heads.
Oh, I’m sure it did, but as all things Wu related during those times, if it wasn’t on par with the ‘90s material, it just didn’t matter. Legend Of The Liquid Swords is damn good, offering about what you’d expect of an eastcoast lyrical showcase, but the beats are mostly bare with funk and soul loops, allowing GZA the room to tell his tales. Tired in the early 2000s? Perhaps, what with Neptunes and Timbaland taking hip-hop down strange new roads (to say nothing of that Kanye kid Roc-A-Fella had behind the decks). DJ Premier and The RZA may have set a standard the decade prior, but the kids wanted new shit. Unfortunately, shit is what they mostly got in the following years (hiya, Soulja Boy).
Gladly, what may have sounded dated in 2002 comes off vintage all these years later – oh hindsight bias, never will you do me wrong! I honestly don’t think regular Wu-fans cared anyway, as when it comes to a GZA album, it’s always about the lyrics. And I can’t find Mr. Grice at fault on anything. Whether waxing nostalgic about the old days (Auto Bio, Fam that also features RZA and Masta Killa, and Sparring Minds with Inspectah Deck), detailing shady record business activities (Did You Say That, Knock Knock), or displaying wizardry with his words (everything!), GZA offers plenty for that intellectual side of your brain. Even the ‘fun’ track Fame is genius, using celebrity names to tell his story. Sample: “Larry’s Bird flew outta Nicholas’ Cage; Joe Tex messages from Satchel’s Paige; Betty Wrights letters with ink from Sean’s Penn; Infinite bars, you couldn’t tell where the song end; Glenn Close enough to quickly duck the tapes; Richard Gere ripped while he was climbin’ Bill Gates.”
Legend Of The Liquid Swords wouldn’t do much for the Wu-Tang Legacy, but it does sit nicely as a companion piece to GZA’s body of work.
We're long past the age where most post-millennial Wu-Tang solo albums are met with disappointment. Now, articles crop up of looking back at potential overlooked gems, of which there were a few, let’s be honest. Everyone kept expecting the Clan members to continue their mid-‘90s brilliance, all the while bypassing several solid hip-hop albums in their own right. And poor Gary Grice, did he ever get passed by. Beneath The Surface generated some initial excitement, true, and his work with DJ Muggs on Grandmasters got briefly hyped as well, but his other two albums not so much.
Yet while Pro Tools has recently gained some level of respect, Legend Of The Liquid Swords remains one of GZA’s least talked about albums. For the love of me, I cannot understand why. Did it come out at the wrong time? I’ll grant 2002 was not a good year to be making a lyrically conscious album when the burgeoning hot raps consisted mostly of “WHO! WHAT! WHEN! WHERE!”, but surely anything The Genius had to say should have turned heads.
Oh, I’m sure it did, but as all things Wu related during those times, if it wasn’t on par with the ‘90s material, it just didn’t matter. Legend Of The Liquid Swords is damn good, offering about what you’d expect of an eastcoast lyrical showcase, but the beats are mostly bare with funk and soul loops, allowing GZA the room to tell his tales. Tired in the early 2000s? Perhaps, what with Neptunes and Timbaland taking hip-hop down strange new roads (to say nothing of that Kanye kid Roc-A-Fella had behind the decks). DJ Premier and The RZA may have set a standard the decade prior, but the kids wanted new shit. Unfortunately, shit is what they mostly got in the following years (hiya, Soulja Boy).
Gladly, what may have sounded dated in 2002 comes off vintage all these years later – oh hindsight bias, never will you do me wrong! I honestly don’t think regular Wu-fans cared anyway, as when it comes to a GZA album, it’s always about the lyrics. And I can’t find Mr. Grice at fault on anything. Whether waxing nostalgic about the old days (Auto Bio, Fam that also features RZA and Masta Killa, and Sparring Minds with Inspectah Deck), detailing shady record business activities (Did You Say That, Knock Knock), or displaying wizardry with his words (everything!), GZA offers plenty for that intellectual side of your brain. Even the ‘fun’ track Fame is genius, using celebrity names to tell his story. Sample: “Larry’s Bird flew outta Nicholas’ Cage; Joe Tex messages from Satchel’s Paige; Betty Wrights letters with ink from Sean’s Penn; Infinite bars, you couldn’t tell where the song end; Glenn Close enough to quickly duck the tapes; Richard Gere ripped while he was climbin’ Bill Gates.”
Legend Of The Liquid Swords wouldn’t do much for the Wu-Tang Legacy, but it does sit nicely as a companion piece to GZA’s body of work.
Labels:
2002,
album,
conscious,
GZA,
hip-hop,
MCA Records,
Wu-Tang Clan
Thursday, November 7, 2013
Public Enemy - Fear Of A Black Planet
Def Jam Recordings: 1990
This should have been the first Public Enemy album I reviewed when all their CDs I ordered showed up, but alphabetical stipulation forbade. Its significance couldn’t be overlooked though, even when focusing on Apocalypse 91 - how many times did I namedrop Fear Of A Black Planet on that one? And it must be a damn important album if the National Recording Registry added it to the Library Of Congress. Woo, government approval from a group that rallied against the government all the time. How the world can change in fifteen years (wait, there’s still a Bush as President...?).
The reason for all this heaped praise is Public Enemy set out to do nothing less than make the definitive concept album with Fear Of A Black Planet. Mighty bold of them to do so within a genre of music that was still relatively new to the populace, almost exclusively focused on party jams and clever world play. Who did Public Enemy think they were in going where no one in hip-hop had gone before? Oh yeah, the same guys that had made the critical and commercial success of It Takes A Nation Of Millions, etc.. Well, that settles that. Go for it, boyeee! (dammit, Flav...)
Since Fear Of A Black Planet is now talked about in reverential terms, Public Enemy obviously succeeded in their goals. It certainly helped that the group's production crew, The Bomb Squad, had all the swagger in the world, confident their 'wall of noise' sample collages could see no bounds. And holy shit, are these tracks ever dense with samples. Good luck IDing even a fraction of them without a cheat sheet (apparently the opening minute-long 'skit' holds some fifty samples alone). Getting a ton of (uncleared!) samples ain't nothing if you can't make awesome music out of it though, but The Bomb Squad were masters of their trade by this point, each track or interlude never losing the plot with overindulgent wankery. Fear Of A Black Planet's beats may not be as immediate as other Public Enemy LPs, but they hold your attention nonetheless, your brain picking everything apart to hear all the little details. This is definitely an album you'll come back to time after time to discover some new morsel missed on a prior playthough.
Now for the nitpick: not enough Chuck D. Ridiculously, it’s almost five tracks before we get some serious verbal attacks from the PE frontman (second track Brothers Gonna Work It Out does have some spit’n’fire for the Black community, but barely to the level of his best work), and it feels like he only shows up here and there. I get that this album’s practically The Bomb Squad’s show, and that a musical concept album such as this requires some sacrifices on the lyrical front (not much, mind, but it is noticeable), yet the lack of Mr. Ridenhour (!!) firing lyrical shots all throughout does leave me wanting. Then again, what does a Canadian cracker like I know?
This should have been the first Public Enemy album I reviewed when all their CDs I ordered showed up, but alphabetical stipulation forbade. Its significance couldn’t be overlooked though, even when focusing on Apocalypse 91 - how many times did I namedrop Fear Of A Black Planet on that one? And it must be a damn important album if the National Recording Registry added it to the Library Of Congress. Woo, government approval from a group that rallied against the government all the time. How the world can change in fifteen years (wait, there’s still a Bush as President...?).
The reason for all this heaped praise is Public Enemy set out to do nothing less than make the definitive concept album with Fear Of A Black Planet. Mighty bold of them to do so within a genre of music that was still relatively new to the populace, almost exclusively focused on party jams and clever world play. Who did Public Enemy think they were in going where no one in hip-hop had gone before? Oh yeah, the same guys that had made the critical and commercial success of It Takes A Nation Of Millions, etc.. Well, that settles that. Go for it, boyeee! (dammit, Flav...)
Since Fear Of A Black Planet is now talked about in reverential terms, Public Enemy obviously succeeded in their goals. It certainly helped that the group's production crew, The Bomb Squad, had all the swagger in the world, confident their 'wall of noise' sample collages could see no bounds. And holy shit, are these tracks ever dense with samples. Good luck IDing even a fraction of them without a cheat sheet (apparently the opening minute-long 'skit' holds some fifty samples alone). Getting a ton of (uncleared!) samples ain't nothing if you can't make awesome music out of it though, but The Bomb Squad were masters of their trade by this point, each track or interlude never losing the plot with overindulgent wankery. Fear Of A Black Planet's beats may not be as immediate as other Public Enemy LPs, but they hold your attention nonetheless, your brain picking everything apart to hear all the little details. This is definitely an album you'll come back to time after time to discover some new morsel missed on a prior playthough.
Now for the nitpick: not enough Chuck D. Ridiculously, it’s almost five tracks before we get some serious verbal attacks from the PE frontman (second track Brothers Gonna Work It Out does have some spit’n’fire for the Black community, but barely to the level of his best work), and it feels like he only shows up here and there. I get that this album’s practically The Bomb Squad’s show, and that a musical concept album such as this requires some sacrifices on the lyrical front (not much, mind, but it is noticeable), yet the lack of Mr. Ridenhour (!!) firing lyrical shots all throughout does leave me wanting. Then again, what does a Canadian cracker like I know?
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
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.
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.
Friday, October 25, 2013
Public Enemy - It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back
Def Jam Recordings: 1988/2000
That this is one of the most essential hip-hop LPs to hear out there, you cannot deny. The only Public Enemy album you should own, however, that's just a ludicrous statement. Really, there's no such album, as everything they released during that Golden Age of hip-hop is something you should own. It'd be like trying to narrow Kraftwerk's peak era to just one, when everyone knows all their material from Autobahn through Computer Age is worth a hear-listen. Same can be said about Public Enemy, their primo albums being It Takes Of Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back through Apocalypse '91. Wait, I'm missing most of those. To the Amazon!
Okay, that's sorted. While I wait for them to show up, let's get into Public Enemy's sophomore effort. The group had already made quite an impact with their debut Yo! Bum Rush The Show, offering a form of rap that was far more aggressive than what most folks were accustomed to from that scene. Of course, compared to the hyper-violence that would emerge with gangsta rap, Public Enemy’s early work can sound tame, and it would take something more than rock elements (hello, Rick Rubin) to stand out from the growing pack of hip-hop all-stars.
Something must have lit a fire under all the Enemy’s asses, because It Take A Nation improves upon everything that’d come before, and quite literally took the rap game to a whole new level. Chuck D’s lyrics turned more incendiary, charged with fiery words directed at the problems black communities suffered from in the ‘80s and taking to task those who were accountable for them (mostly white-ruling governments). He still finds the time for party lyrics too, but small wonder the political stuff got everyone taking notice, whether you agreed with his assessments or outright feared them (oh, if they only knew what was to come...).
Such lyricism got It Takes a Nation tons of attention back then, but where it’s come to be regarded as a proper classic is in the production. This is where The Bomb Squad came into their own, no longer relying on standard drum kits but raiding whatever funk and soul samples they got their hands on. And they got their hands on a lot, creating dense tracks that were any trainspotter’s wet dream come true, ushering in a sampling arms race that lasted for the next few years after. Again, this album doesn’t sound quite so impressive compared to what followed, but considering most turn to It Takes A Nation as their point of inspiration, its seminal status is well earned. Besides, with all the samples pilfered from this album, whole sections of hip-hop, breaks, and loads more beat-heavy genres owe it a debt of gratitude for setting the standard.
Specific tunes, then? Bring The Noise, Don’t Believe The Hype, Rebel Without A Pause, Night Of The Living Baseheads... Damn, nearly everything off here! Except Cold Lampin’ With Flavor. Sorry, Flav, you’re only good as a hype man.
That this is one of the most essential hip-hop LPs to hear out there, you cannot deny. The only Public Enemy album you should own, however, that's just a ludicrous statement. Really, there's no such album, as everything they released during that Golden Age of hip-hop is something you should own. It'd be like trying to narrow Kraftwerk's peak era to just one, when everyone knows all their material from Autobahn through Computer Age is worth a hear-listen. Same can be said about Public Enemy, their primo albums being It Takes Of Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back through Apocalypse '91. Wait, I'm missing most of those. To the Amazon!
Okay, that's sorted. While I wait for them to show up, let's get into Public Enemy's sophomore effort. The group had already made quite an impact with their debut Yo! Bum Rush The Show, offering a form of rap that was far more aggressive than what most folks were accustomed to from that scene. Of course, compared to the hyper-violence that would emerge with gangsta rap, Public Enemy’s early work can sound tame, and it would take something more than rock elements (hello, Rick Rubin) to stand out from the growing pack of hip-hop all-stars.
Something must have lit a fire under all the Enemy’s asses, because It Take A Nation improves upon everything that’d come before, and quite literally took the rap game to a whole new level. Chuck D’s lyrics turned more incendiary, charged with fiery words directed at the problems black communities suffered from in the ‘80s and taking to task those who were accountable for them (mostly white-ruling governments). He still finds the time for party lyrics too, but small wonder the political stuff got everyone taking notice, whether you agreed with his assessments or outright feared them (oh, if they only knew what was to come...).
Such lyricism got It Takes a Nation tons of attention back then, but where it’s come to be regarded as a proper classic is in the production. This is where The Bomb Squad came into their own, no longer relying on standard drum kits but raiding whatever funk and soul samples they got their hands on. And they got their hands on a lot, creating dense tracks that were any trainspotter’s wet dream come true, ushering in a sampling arms race that lasted for the next few years after. Again, this album doesn’t sound quite so impressive compared to what followed, but considering most turn to It Takes A Nation as their point of inspiration, its seminal status is well earned. Besides, with all the samples pilfered from this album, whole sections of hip-hop, breaks, and loads more beat-heavy genres owe it a debt of gratitude for setting the standard.
Specific tunes, then? Bring The Noise, Don’t Believe The Hype, Rebel Without A Pause, Night Of The Living Baseheads... Damn, nearly everything off here! Except Cold Lampin’ With Flavor. Sorry, Flav, you’re only good as a hype man.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
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.
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.
Monday, July 8, 2013
Ice Cube - AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted
Priority Records: 1990/2003
The only Ice Cube album you're supposed to have, even if you're not much of an Ice Cube fan. Oh, he's released tons more since his debut, not to mention plenty of collaborative work alongside groups like Da Lench Mob and Westside Connection. Some of it's been good, some not so good, but aside from maybe his work with N.W.A., O'Shea Jackson was never as virulent as he was on AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted. No, check that, he's even more vicious here than on Straight Outta Compton, the bad blood between him and his former posse firing him like no other motivation could. Not only was he gonna make a bigger mark than them solo, but he was going to do so with ‘the other coast’, Public Enemy’s own production group The Bomb Squad.
Hanging around the politically charged Chuck D undoubtedly played a role in Cube’s new-found lyrical focus. He still brought tales of gangster shenanigans, but they were far less glorifying and misogynistic compared to what his contemporaries offered. Rather, they spotlighted the decay of American inner city life, how it was destroying black communities, and how everyone – from the white upper-crust of society to the lowest scuzzed beggar – was all accountable. Cube offers no solutions, and indeed that can make AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted a tiring listen as you bear the brunt of his anger, but damn if it isn’t a visceral experience.
And the music! If Cube’s just discovering how potent his lyricism could be, we’re also capturing The Bomb Squad at the height of their powers too. As this was made in the golden age of sampling, tracks are incredibly dense with (likely) un-cleared content. Unlike, say, The Dust Brothers’ production for Paul’s Boutique, who just tossed in whatever they could for the sake of it, The Bomb Squad keep grooves tight and propulsive. Just take a gander at the titular cut, with those funky breaks, bass drops, scratches, gun shots, etc. Even if Cube’s words aren’t for you, try denying bobbin’ your head to these beats. Not to be outdone, Da Lench Mob prove they're up to the sample-raiding with Jackin’ For Beats, first appeared on the Kill At Will EP, but included here on the 2003 reissue of AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted (the whole single, actually).
So if Ice Cube’s debut’s as good as I say (any hip-hop head would), why’s it taken me this bloody long to pick up a proper copy? Oversight mainly, but going through all that Del Tha Funkee Homosapien material recently reminded me to correct it. Yeah, ol’ Del’s cousins with Cube, which most folks know, but perhaps less known is how, as still part of Cube’s crew, he helped pen some of Mr. Jackson’s rhymes here. I dunno how many specifically, though a track like A Gangsta’s Fairytale sure sounds like something Del might write (there’s even a ‘Dr. Bombay’ reference). I wouldn’t recommend AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted if you’re only a fan of Deltron 3030 though, as they’re literally worlds apart.
The only Ice Cube album you're supposed to have, even if you're not much of an Ice Cube fan. Oh, he's released tons more since his debut, not to mention plenty of collaborative work alongside groups like Da Lench Mob and Westside Connection. Some of it's been good, some not so good, but aside from maybe his work with N.W.A., O'Shea Jackson was never as virulent as he was on AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted. No, check that, he's even more vicious here than on Straight Outta Compton, the bad blood between him and his former posse firing him like no other motivation could. Not only was he gonna make a bigger mark than them solo, but he was going to do so with ‘the other coast’, Public Enemy’s own production group The Bomb Squad.
Hanging around the politically charged Chuck D undoubtedly played a role in Cube’s new-found lyrical focus. He still brought tales of gangster shenanigans, but they were far less glorifying and misogynistic compared to what his contemporaries offered. Rather, they spotlighted the decay of American inner city life, how it was destroying black communities, and how everyone – from the white upper-crust of society to the lowest scuzzed beggar – was all accountable. Cube offers no solutions, and indeed that can make AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted a tiring listen as you bear the brunt of his anger, but damn if it isn’t a visceral experience.
And the music! If Cube’s just discovering how potent his lyricism could be, we’re also capturing The Bomb Squad at the height of their powers too. As this was made in the golden age of sampling, tracks are incredibly dense with (likely) un-cleared content. Unlike, say, The Dust Brothers’ production for Paul’s Boutique, who just tossed in whatever they could for the sake of it, The Bomb Squad keep grooves tight and propulsive. Just take a gander at the titular cut, with those funky breaks, bass drops, scratches, gun shots, etc. Even if Cube’s words aren’t for you, try denying bobbin’ your head to these beats. Not to be outdone, Da Lench Mob prove they're up to the sample-raiding with Jackin’ For Beats, first appeared on the Kill At Will EP, but included here on the 2003 reissue of AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted (the whole single, actually).
So if Ice Cube’s debut’s as good as I say (any hip-hop head would), why’s it taken me this bloody long to pick up a proper copy? Oversight mainly, but going through all that Del Tha Funkee Homosapien material recently reminded me to correct it. Yeah, ol’ Del’s cousins with Cube, which most folks know, but perhaps less known is how, as still part of Cube’s crew, he helped pen some of Mr. Jackson’s rhymes here. I dunno how many specifically, though a track like A Gangsta’s Fairytale sure sounds like something Del might write (there’s even a ‘Dr. Bombay’ reference). I wouldn’t recommend AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted if you’re only a fan of Deltron 3030 though, as they’re literally worlds apart.
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Del Tha Funkee Homosapien - Golden Era
The Council: 2011
Oh man, I'm dodging a bullet on this one. Golden Era is a three-disc album, but two of these CDs are previously released 'net-albums, including Funk Man, which I already covered. And really, the differences between Golden Era Prime and Automatik Statik are minimal, so I may as well treat these remaining two as one. Besides, who even knew Del had released another online album? Lord Discogs draws blank on it, and even RapReviews.com’s got nothing, so I suspect whether Automatik Statik even did get any kind of proper release beyond, say, Soundcloud or Hiero Imperium email. Someone was clued in, though, an enigmatic label called The Council, who not only finally gave Funk Man and Automatik Statik proper hard-copies, but yet another disc of fresh material, from which entails Golden Era Main.
This has been quite a run for Del, three albums' worth of material released in such a small frame of time. It's almost on par with his turn-of-the-century peak years in terms of productivity, but then he had a pile of different projects pushing him forward (solo, Hieroglyphics, Deltron... you know the drill). He doesn't have quite so much on the go now, but someone must have informed him the best way to stay creatively sharp is to keep producing, keep rapping, keep writing. And so he has.
While this does benefit Golden Era to some degree, it also comes with weaknesses. Lyrically, Del’s as sharp as ever, wordplay and stylistic enunciation on par with any prior work. Content wise, however, he isn’t saying much that we haven’t heard before. He’s the illest mofo in the rap game, check. He still cannot stand them wack MCs, damn skippy. He’s a funky homosapien, of course. Del’s lyricism’s always enjoyable, but more variety in theme is needed to elevate Golden Era beyond nodding “yeah, it’s dope” assessments. At least Funk Man had some minor running theme tying it all together, redundant though it eventually got. It almost seems blasphemous to think it, considering how much they often ruined many a hip-hop album, but maybe a few skits, interludes, or monologs would help break up the monotony of Del going on about his impeccable rapping skills track after track.
Meanwhile, on the production front, things have improved from Funk Man. Apparently Del’s still behind the boards on everything (there are no producer liner notes, even on the hard copies), and he comes up with plenty of memorable, funky loops (ooh, love that nod to classic Public Enemy on Raw!). Mostly though, the beats are there to serve his rapping, so don’t go expecting fancy flourishes beyond what he’s spittin’.
That about sums up Golden Era. It’s a showcase of Del doing what he does best, over the course of three CDs. You probably wouldn’t want to listen to the whole thing in one sitting, although they aren’t terribly long discs (Golden Era Alpha’s less than forty minutes long!), so you can breeze through ‘em on a nice summer day.
Oh man, I'm dodging a bullet on this one. Golden Era is a three-disc album, but two of these CDs are previously released 'net-albums, including Funk Man, which I already covered. And really, the differences between Golden Era Prime and Automatik Statik are minimal, so I may as well treat these remaining two as one. Besides, who even knew Del had released another online album? Lord Discogs draws blank on it, and even RapReviews.com’s got nothing, so I suspect whether Automatik Statik even did get any kind of proper release beyond, say, Soundcloud or Hiero Imperium email. Someone was clued in, though, an enigmatic label called The Council, who not only finally gave Funk Man and Automatik Statik proper hard-copies, but yet another disc of fresh material, from which entails Golden Era Main.
This has been quite a run for Del, three albums' worth of material released in such a small frame of time. It's almost on par with his turn-of-the-century peak years in terms of productivity, but then he had a pile of different projects pushing him forward (solo, Hieroglyphics, Deltron... you know the drill). He doesn't have quite so much on the go now, but someone must have informed him the best way to stay creatively sharp is to keep producing, keep rapping, keep writing. And so he has.
While this does benefit Golden Era to some degree, it also comes with weaknesses. Lyrically, Del’s as sharp as ever, wordplay and stylistic enunciation on par with any prior work. Content wise, however, he isn’t saying much that we haven’t heard before. He’s the illest mofo in the rap game, check. He still cannot stand them wack MCs, damn skippy. He’s a funky homosapien, of course. Del’s lyricism’s always enjoyable, but more variety in theme is needed to elevate Golden Era beyond nodding “yeah, it’s dope” assessments. At least Funk Man had some minor running theme tying it all together, redundant though it eventually got. It almost seems blasphemous to think it, considering how much they often ruined many a hip-hop album, but maybe a few skits, interludes, or monologs would help break up the monotony of Del going on about his impeccable rapping skills track after track.
Meanwhile, on the production front, things have improved from Funk Man. Apparently Del’s still behind the boards on everything (there are no producer liner notes, even on the hard copies), and he comes up with plenty of memorable, funky loops (ooh, love that nod to classic Public Enemy on Raw!). Mostly though, the beats are there to serve his rapping, so don’t go expecting fancy flourishes beyond what he’s spittin’.
That about sums up Golden Era. It’s a showcase of Del doing what he does best, over the course of three CDs. You probably wouldn’t want to listen to the whole thing in one sitting, although they aren’t terribly long discs (Golden Era Alpha’s less than forty minutes long!), so you can breeze through ‘em on a nice summer day.
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Rascalz - Global Warning
BMG Music Canada: 1999
Every few years, the Canadian media jumps on some home-grown hip-hop act as our country's ambassador for that scene. So long as that one act is at the top, nearly every other one is seemingly forgotten about. Currently that title is owned by Drake, but this phenomenon stretches back at least two decades. The earliest I can recall receiving the MuchMusic push was Dream Warriors, who were then supplanted by Choclair as the Most Important Canadian Rapper. Rascalz soon followed him on the success of their second album Cash Crop (not to mention a Juno Award they famously snubbed), but their time in the spotlight was swiftly usurped by Swollen Members. The media finally gave K-OS a bump once folks grew tired of Swollen Members, and now we're with Drake. *Phew*... did I miss anyone?
As for these Rascalz, they'd been around since the early '90s, existing as a complete 'Four Pillars Of Hip-Hop' contingent based out of Vancouver. As such, it's no wonder it took so long for folks outside the Lower Mainland to notice, their strengths often lying within the live scene (sure can't capture breakin' and graffiti on a CD). Their talents couldn't be kept hidden forever though (especially when Canadian media's always dying for that next Great Rap Hope), and after the collaborative hit Northern Touch (which included Choclair and Kardinal Offishall) got them all the plaudits, anticipation was high for their follow-up album, Global Warning.
And why not? With their new found fame, they also had new found funds, able to bring in guest collaborations and slick production while remaining true to their underground roots. KRS-One! Barrington Levy! All those Canadian rappers too! Heck, even French rappers Consice and Sazon show up – how Canadian is that? Pre-fame comedian Russell Peters also gets a couple appearances with skits, and final track Sharpshooter samples Bret “The Hitman” Hart. Oh my God, I’m gonna Canadagasm!
Guests aside, the music on hand maintains mostly an Eastcoast conscious flavour (well, aside from that Beatnuts collaboration Can’t Relate, their stock gangterisms sounding totally out of place following the smart raps of Priceless). DJ Kemo handles most of the music, but rappers Misfit and Red 1 get time in the producer’s chair too. As Misfit and Red 1 share a strong dynamic between the former’s regular flow and the latter’s dancehall toasting, the music also plays to their strengths. Reggae jams, minimalistic funk (hello, Wu-Tang influence), boom-bap, all mint for those who crave their hip-hop underground and streetwise, not thugged out.
Whoops, maybe that’s why Global Warning didn’t perform as great as expected. Conscious hip-hop was still firmly in the underground, and despite strong singles in Top Of The World and Gunnfinga, not to mention the ridiculous amount of Canadian promotion, folks soon forgot about Rascalz’ efforts (to be fair, Dr. Dre’s resurgence that year overshadowed nearly all of hip-hop). While I wouldn’t call this album a lost classic, it’s held strong after all these years, as only timeless underground hip-hop can.
Every few years, the Canadian media jumps on some home-grown hip-hop act as our country's ambassador for that scene. So long as that one act is at the top, nearly every other one is seemingly forgotten about. Currently that title is owned by Drake, but this phenomenon stretches back at least two decades. The earliest I can recall receiving the MuchMusic push was Dream Warriors, who were then supplanted by Choclair as the Most Important Canadian Rapper. Rascalz soon followed him on the success of their second album Cash Crop (not to mention a Juno Award they famously snubbed), but their time in the spotlight was swiftly usurped by Swollen Members. The media finally gave K-OS a bump once folks grew tired of Swollen Members, and now we're with Drake. *Phew*... did I miss anyone?
As for these Rascalz, they'd been around since the early '90s, existing as a complete 'Four Pillars Of Hip-Hop' contingent based out of Vancouver. As such, it's no wonder it took so long for folks outside the Lower Mainland to notice, their strengths often lying within the live scene (sure can't capture breakin' and graffiti on a CD). Their talents couldn't be kept hidden forever though (especially when Canadian media's always dying for that next Great Rap Hope), and after the collaborative hit Northern Touch (which included Choclair and Kardinal Offishall) got them all the plaudits, anticipation was high for their follow-up album, Global Warning.
And why not? With their new found fame, they also had new found funds, able to bring in guest collaborations and slick production while remaining true to their underground roots. KRS-One! Barrington Levy! All those Canadian rappers too! Heck, even French rappers Consice and Sazon show up – how Canadian is that? Pre-fame comedian Russell Peters also gets a couple appearances with skits, and final track Sharpshooter samples Bret “The Hitman” Hart. Oh my God, I’m gonna Canadagasm!
Guests aside, the music on hand maintains mostly an Eastcoast conscious flavour (well, aside from that Beatnuts collaboration Can’t Relate, their stock gangterisms sounding totally out of place following the smart raps of Priceless). DJ Kemo handles most of the music, but rappers Misfit and Red 1 get time in the producer’s chair too. As Misfit and Red 1 share a strong dynamic between the former’s regular flow and the latter’s dancehall toasting, the music also plays to their strengths. Reggae jams, minimalistic funk (hello, Wu-Tang influence), boom-bap, all mint for those who crave their hip-hop underground and streetwise, not thugged out.
Whoops, maybe that’s why Global Warning didn’t perform as great as expected. Conscious hip-hop was still firmly in the underground, and despite strong singles in Top Of The World and Gunnfinga, not to mention the ridiculous amount of Canadian promotion, folks soon forgot about Rascalz’ efforts (to be fair, Dr. Dre’s resurgence that year overshadowed nearly all of hip-hop). While I wouldn’t call this album a lost classic, it’s held strong after all these years, as only timeless underground hip-hop can.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Del Tha Funkee Homosapien - Funk Man (The Stimulus Package)
self-released:2009
While folks have been waiting for a new Deltron forever now (a… torturous… wait…), in the long meanwhile, ol’ Del kept himself busy, mostly concentrating on solo material over the past decade. I kind of ragged on him with that Hieroglyphics album, but following a little downtime after it, he seemed to find his form again, if not repeat the brilliant creativity that marked his turn-of-the-century output (not sure anyone could though). In 2008, he finally released a proper follow-up to his 2000 album Both Sides Of The Brain, Eleventh Hour, a relatively light-hearted romp that recalled many of Del's sillier moments on prior releases. As it didn't really show signs of musical growth, it was a small disappointment for folks hoping he'd come back with more fire. Still, they couldn't argue Del had lost his touch, as that album delivered exactly what you'd expect from a Funkee Homosapien full-length.
This Funk Man album was a quick follow-up to Eleventh Hour, a sort of yang to that one's yin. Whereas the former showed off Del's playful side, this one's a showcase of his battle-rap skills, a field he's just as adept at as his off-kilter material. If you've been hankering for a return to his pissed-off No Need For Alarm era, this is about as close as it's come. To be fair, Del ain't sayin' nothing we haven't heard from 'underground conscious' rappers for years now, but he does it in such a flamboyant, cutting style that you can't help but sit up and take notice.
As the title suggests, Funk Man has a running theme of Tha Funkee Homosapien being the funkiest character around, going so far as to use the unfortunate “I'm stank, so I'm dope” trope …or something. Frankly, a track titled I'm Smellin' Myself should bomb, especially so when the lyrics contained are about as eyebrow rising as you'd suspect. Somehow though, Del pulls it off, but only just, my friends, only just.
Lyricism was never going to be a weak spot on a Del album anyway, but unfortunately the beats aren't quite up to snuff as prior albums. As everything's self-produced, the music tends to run through serviceable loops, mostly funky beats and the like. Del's an alright producer, but when he's had the likes of George Clinton, Prince Paul, and Dan The Automator providing the tunes, Funk Man can't help but come off a weaker offering in Del's discography.
So if that's the case, why should anyone but devout fans even bother with Funk Man? Well, how's about it being a free download sound to tempt you? Yep, there was no official release with this one, though it was added as a bonus disc to the 2011 album Golden Era. While I wouldn't recommend Funk Man as a starting point for Del's work, there's no reason to not check it out if you're at least a passing fan. Or if you need a Funkee Homosapien fix while waiting for the next Deltron album.
While folks have been waiting for a new Deltron forever now (a… torturous… wait…), in the long meanwhile, ol’ Del kept himself busy, mostly concentrating on solo material over the past decade. I kind of ragged on him with that Hieroglyphics album, but following a little downtime after it, he seemed to find his form again, if not repeat the brilliant creativity that marked his turn-of-the-century output (not sure anyone could though). In 2008, he finally released a proper follow-up to his 2000 album Both Sides Of The Brain, Eleventh Hour, a relatively light-hearted romp that recalled many of Del's sillier moments on prior releases. As it didn't really show signs of musical growth, it was a small disappointment for folks hoping he'd come back with more fire. Still, they couldn't argue Del had lost his touch, as that album delivered exactly what you'd expect from a Funkee Homosapien full-length.
This Funk Man album was a quick follow-up to Eleventh Hour, a sort of yang to that one's yin. Whereas the former showed off Del's playful side, this one's a showcase of his battle-rap skills, a field he's just as adept at as his off-kilter material. If you've been hankering for a return to his pissed-off No Need For Alarm era, this is about as close as it's come. To be fair, Del ain't sayin' nothing we haven't heard from 'underground conscious' rappers for years now, but he does it in such a flamboyant, cutting style that you can't help but sit up and take notice.
As the title suggests, Funk Man has a running theme of Tha Funkee Homosapien being the funkiest character around, going so far as to use the unfortunate “I'm stank, so I'm dope” trope …or something. Frankly, a track titled I'm Smellin' Myself should bomb, especially so when the lyrics contained are about as eyebrow rising as you'd suspect. Somehow though, Del pulls it off, but only just, my friends, only just.
Lyricism was never going to be a weak spot on a Del album anyway, but unfortunately the beats aren't quite up to snuff as prior albums. As everything's self-produced, the music tends to run through serviceable loops, mostly funky beats and the like. Del's an alright producer, but when he's had the likes of George Clinton, Prince Paul, and Dan The Automator providing the tunes, Funk Man can't help but come off a weaker offering in Del's discography.
So if that's the case, why should anyone but devout fans even bother with Funk Man? Well, how's about it being a free download sound to tempt you? Yep, there was no official release with this one, though it was added as a bonus disc to the 2011 album Golden Era. While I wouldn't recommend Funk Man as a starting point for Del's work, there's no reason to not check it out if you're at least a passing fan. Or if you need a Funkee Homosapien fix while waiting for the next Deltron album.
Sunday, May 5, 2013
Gang Starr - Full Clip:A Decade Of Gang Starr
Virgin Records America, Inc: 1999
This double-disc collection of Gang Starr material opens with a live ‘rest in peace’ call-and-response recording for the then-recently deceased rapper Big L, a once rising star in the New York scene. Though Full Clip was released over ten years prior to Guru’s own death, I have to say it’s somewhat eerie hearing such a shout-out in the here and now. Like, as though the specter of death continued to lurk in the shadows. Waiting... Waiting...
Anyhow.
Gang Starr was comprised of producer DJ Premier and emcee Guru, and were one of the longest-running successful acts within hip-hop that comprised of just those two elements, neither overshadowing the other. Often it’s the microphone handlers that get all the attention; or a DJ will strike out on his own to become a top-grade turntablist; or the producer’s craft behind the mixing boards turns him into a hot commodity within the scene at large. Gang Starr was all of this, a remarkable feat considering all the factors that should have held them back beyond their Golden Era breakout. The whole ‘DJ and MC’ dynamic was a bygone relic of the ‘80s, overrun by the emergent gangsta scene, yet somehow they kept going when many of their peers fell by the wayside. Did folks mistake them for a gangsta act as well, what with a name like Gang Starr? D’oh, of course not. It was all about respect.
First off, Guru’s smoky style of rap was as smooth as beatnik flow. He had no need for aggressive shouting or profanity-laced lyrics; his words are sharp and to the point. Whether taking other MCs to task, telling street life tales, or giving shout-outs to jazz, he comes across as a wise elder, someone you best pay attention to when he speaks, as you’ll undoubtedly learn something after. If only DJ Premier wasn’t always making such fine beats, I wouldn’t be accidentally zoning him out so frequently.
Therein lay Gang Starr’s other weapon: DJ Premier’s impeccable sense of sampling. While he likely wasn’t the first to pilfer jazz and funk records of New York City’s past, he definitely became synonymous with the sound, almost single-handily dictating how underground eastcoast hip-hop would sound for the ensuing decade. If you weren't lucky enough to get Premier's touch on your track, chances were you'd end up style-biting the smooth, jazz-loop form for credibility.
Or perhaps all that is just the impression this Full Clip two-CD retrospective wants to impart. I'll admit I haven't delved into Gang Starr's proper albums, in part because this one provides almost all that you could want from the duo in a nice, tidy package. Their classics are accounted for (Words I Manifest, Militia, Rep, Steez ...plenty more!), plus assorted guest spots and rare one-offs make this more comprehensive than the Mass Appeal best-of released in 2006. Of course, Gang Starr’s style, with their unapologetic old-school approach to hip-hop, may not be for everyone. Like, those who figure trap-rap the height of sophistication.
This double-disc collection of Gang Starr material opens with a live ‘rest in peace’ call-and-response recording for the then-recently deceased rapper Big L, a once rising star in the New York scene. Though Full Clip was released over ten years prior to Guru’s own death, I have to say it’s somewhat eerie hearing such a shout-out in the here and now. Like, as though the specter of death continued to lurk in the shadows. Waiting... Waiting...
Anyhow.
Gang Starr was comprised of producer DJ Premier and emcee Guru, and were one of the longest-running successful acts within hip-hop that comprised of just those two elements, neither overshadowing the other. Often it’s the microphone handlers that get all the attention; or a DJ will strike out on his own to become a top-grade turntablist; or the producer’s craft behind the mixing boards turns him into a hot commodity within the scene at large. Gang Starr was all of this, a remarkable feat considering all the factors that should have held them back beyond their Golden Era breakout. The whole ‘DJ and MC’ dynamic was a bygone relic of the ‘80s, overrun by the emergent gangsta scene, yet somehow they kept going when many of their peers fell by the wayside. Did folks mistake them for a gangsta act as well, what with a name like Gang Starr? D’oh, of course not. It was all about respect.
First off, Guru’s smoky style of rap was as smooth as beatnik flow. He had no need for aggressive shouting or profanity-laced lyrics; his words are sharp and to the point. Whether taking other MCs to task, telling street life tales, or giving shout-outs to jazz, he comes across as a wise elder, someone you best pay attention to when he speaks, as you’ll undoubtedly learn something after. If only DJ Premier wasn’t always making such fine beats, I wouldn’t be accidentally zoning him out so frequently.
Therein lay Gang Starr’s other weapon: DJ Premier’s impeccable sense of sampling. While he likely wasn’t the first to pilfer jazz and funk records of New York City’s past, he definitely became synonymous with the sound, almost single-handily dictating how underground eastcoast hip-hop would sound for the ensuing decade. If you weren't lucky enough to get Premier's touch on your track, chances were you'd end up style-biting the smooth, jazz-loop form for credibility.
Or perhaps all that is just the impression this Full Clip two-CD retrospective wants to impart. I'll admit I haven't delved into Gang Starr's proper albums, in part because this one provides almost all that you could want from the duo in a nice, tidy package. Their classics are accounted for (Words I Manifest, Militia, Rep, Steez ...plenty more!), plus assorted guest spots and rare one-offs make this more comprehensive than the Mass Appeal best-of released in 2006. Of course, Gang Starr’s style, with their unapologetic old-school approach to hip-hop, may not be for everyone. Like, those who figure trap-rap the height of sophistication.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Hieroglyphics - Full Circle
Hiero Imperium: 2003
During the mid-'90s (yes, always with the '90s), the Hieroglyphics crew were gods among the backpack contingent of hip-hop fans. First to break out was that funkiest of homo sapiens, Del, soon followed by Souls Of Mischief (A-Plus, Opio, Phesto, and Tajai). When label conflicts halted all their momentum for a while, the posse eventually took matters into their own hands and began self-releasing material through their website. As the decade came to a close, the Hiero crew made a definitive statement with 3rd Eye Vision, an instant classic among underground heads. The group's proper LP debut showcased everything that made Hieroglyphics such darlings of that scene, with sharp lyricism in the form of solo freestyles and group raps, plus great production that built upon the Golden Era's fun, free-wheelin' vibes. For those tired of mainstream rap's glamour and gangsterisms, it was a breath of fresh air.
Then the group went silent.
Oh, individually, their careers carried on successfully (especially so Del's), but as a posse, Hieroglyphics seemed to turn more wayward from each other with every passing year. Dammit, can't let rumour mongering tarnish their legacy. Half a decade after 3rd Eye Vision, it came time to release a new full-length, make yet another definitive statement; silence the doubters and reclaim hip-hop back from the new growing popularity of bling and crunk.
Or not.
Truth is, rap collectives have a difficult time beating the sophomore slump, possibly more so than any other form of music. The fire that initially united a group almost always fizzles out (or, in the case of an act like Jurrasic 5, never flares as bright as their breakout). Plus, solo careers make things difficult in drawing everyone back, other commitments demanding their time.
This is definitely highlighted on Full Circle by Del's presence; or rather, his near lack of it. Whoever you felt was the strongest emcee of Hieroglyphics, there's no doubt Tha Funkee Homosapien was a driving force on many a Hiero cut. Here though, he barely shows up, and when he does he comes off sounding bored, as though he's got other things to do (Halo’s the only exception). Maybe it was simply a case of creative burnout after so many successful projects in the years between, but his lackadaisical raps hurt the album.
But a crew doesn’t die just because one member ain’t on his A-game. Sadly, this feeling permeates throughout the album. Nothing comes across as outright awful (except that ridiculous Jingle Jangle cut), yet there’s something lacking on Full Circle. Steve ‘Flash’ Juan of rapreview.com called it missing ‘dopeness’, and I can’t think of a better term for it. Those moments that make you skip back to hear a track or verse again - filled on so many Hiero projects - just don’t exist on Full Circle. For the most part, it’s an album that sounds fine as it’s playing, but is easily forgotten once finished, with little incentive to replay any time soon.
During the mid-'90s (yes, always with the '90s), the Hieroglyphics crew were gods among the backpack contingent of hip-hop fans. First to break out was that funkiest of homo sapiens, Del, soon followed by Souls Of Mischief (A-Plus, Opio, Phesto, and Tajai). When label conflicts halted all their momentum for a while, the posse eventually took matters into their own hands and began self-releasing material through their website. As the decade came to a close, the Hiero crew made a definitive statement with 3rd Eye Vision, an instant classic among underground heads. The group's proper LP debut showcased everything that made Hieroglyphics such darlings of that scene, with sharp lyricism in the form of solo freestyles and group raps, plus great production that built upon the Golden Era's fun, free-wheelin' vibes. For those tired of mainstream rap's glamour and gangsterisms, it was a breath of fresh air.
Then the group went silent.
Oh, individually, their careers carried on successfully (especially so Del's), but as a posse, Hieroglyphics seemed to turn more wayward from each other with every passing year. Dammit, can't let rumour mongering tarnish their legacy. Half a decade after 3rd Eye Vision, it came time to release a new full-length, make yet another definitive statement; silence the doubters and reclaim hip-hop back from the new growing popularity of bling and crunk.
Or not.
Truth is, rap collectives have a difficult time beating the sophomore slump, possibly more so than any other form of music. The fire that initially united a group almost always fizzles out (or, in the case of an act like Jurrasic 5, never flares as bright as their breakout). Plus, solo careers make things difficult in drawing everyone back, other commitments demanding their time.
This is definitely highlighted on Full Circle by Del's presence; or rather, his near lack of it. Whoever you felt was the strongest emcee of Hieroglyphics, there's no doubt Tha Funkee Homosapien was a driving force on many a Hiero cut. Here though, he barely shows up, and when he does he comes off sounding bored, as though he's got other things to do (Halo’s the only exception). Maybe it was simply a case of creative burnout after so many successful projects in the years between, but his lackadaisical raps hurt the album.
But a crew doesn’t die just because one member ain’t on his A-game. Sadly, this feeling permeates throughout the album. Nothing comes across as outright awful (except that ridiculous Jingle Jangle cut), yet there’s something lacking on Full Circle. Steve ‘Flash’ Juan of rapreview.com called it missing ‘dopeness’, and I can’t think of a better term for it. Those moments that make you skip back to hear a track or verse again - filled on so many Hiero projects - just don’t exist on Full Circle. For the most part, it’s an album that sounds fine as it’s playing, but is easily forgotten once finished, with little incentive to replay any time soon.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Things I've Talked About
...txt
10 Records
16 Bit Lolita's
1963
1965
1966
1967
1968
1969
1970
1971
1972
1973
1974
1975
1976
1977
1978
1979
1980
1981
1982
1983
1984
1985
1986
1987
1988
1989
1990
1991
1992
1993
1994
1995
1996
1997
1998
1999
2 Play Records
2 Unlimited
2000
2001
2002
2003
2004
2005
2006
2007
2008
2009
2010
2011
2012
2013
2014
2015
2016
2017
2018
2019
2020
2021
2022
2023
2024
20xx Update
2562
3 Loop Music
302 Acid
36
3FORCE
3six Recordings
4AD
6 x 6 Records
75 Ark
7L & Esoteric
808 State
A Perfect Circle
A Positive Life
A-Wave
a.r.t.less
A&M Records
A&R Records
Abandoned Communities
Abasi
Above and Beyond
abstract
AC/DC
Ace Trace
Ace Tracks Playlists
Ace Ventura
acid
acid house
acid jazz
acid techno
acoustic
Acroplane Recordings
Adam Beyer
Adam Ellis
Adam Freeland
Adham Shaikh
ADNY
Adrian Younge
adult contemporary
Advanced UFO Phantom
Aegri Somnia
AEI Music
Aes Dana
Afgin
Afrika Bambaataa
Afro-house
Afterhours
Agoria
Aidan Casserly
Aira Mitsuki
Airwaves
Ajana Records
Ajna
AK1200
Akshan
album
Aldrin
Alex Smoke
Alex Theory
Alice In Chains
Alien Community
Alien Project
Alio Die
All Saints
Alpha Wave Movement
Alphabet Zoo
Alphaxone
Altar Records
Alter Ego
alternative rock
Alucidnation
Ambelion
Ambidextrous
ambient
ambient dub
ambient techno
Ambient World
Ambientium
Ametsub
Amon Amarth
Amon Tobin
Amplexus
Anabolic Frolic
Anatolya
Andrea Parker
Andrew Heath
Androcell
Anduin
Andy C
anecdotes
Aniplex
Anjunabeats
Annibale Records
Anodize
Another Fine Day
Antares
Antendex
anthem house
Anthony Paul Kerby
Anthony Rother
Anti-Social Network
Anzio Green
Aoide
Aphasia Records
Aphex Twin
Apócrýphos
Apollo
Apollo 440
Apple Records
April Records
Aqua
Aquarellist
Aquascape
Aquasky
Aquila
Arcade
Architects Of Existence
Archives
Arcturus
arena rock
Arista
Armada
Armin van Buuren
Arpatle
Artifact303
Arts & Crafts
ASC
Ashtech
Asia
Asian Dub Foundation
Astral Engineering
Astral Projection
Astral Waves
Astralwerks
AstroPilot
AstroPilot Music
Asura
Asylum Records
ATB
ATCO Records
Atlantic
Atlantis
atmospheric jungle
Atom Heart
Atomic Hooligan
Atomine Elektrine
Atrium Carceri
Attic
Attoya
Audiobulb Records
Audion
AuroraX
Autechre
Autistici
Autumn Of Communion
Auxilary
Auxiliary
Avantgarde
Avatar Records
Aveparthe
Avicii
Axiom
Axs
Axtone Records
Aythar
B.G. The Prince Of Rap
B°TONG
B12
Babygrande
Balance
Balanced Records
Balearic
ballad
Bålsam
Banco de Gaia
Bandulu
Barker & Baumecker
Battle Axe Records
battle-rap
Bauri
Beastie Boys
Beat Buzz Records
Beat Pharmacy
Beatbox Machinery
Beats & Pieces
bebop
Beck
Bedouin Soundclash
Bedrock Records
Beechwood Music
Benny Benassi
Bent
Benz Street US
Berlin-School
Beto Narme
Beyond
bhangra
Bicep
big beat
Big Boi
Big Dada Recordings
Big L
Big Life
Bill Hamel
Bill Laswell
Bill Leeb
BIlly Idol
BineMusic
BioMetal
Biophon Records
Biosphere
Bipolar Music
BKS
Black Hole Recordings
black metal
black rebel motorcycle club
Black Swan Sounds
Blanco Y Negro
Blasterjaxx
Bleep
Blend
Blood Music
Blow Up
Blue Amazon
Blue Hour
Blue Öyster Cult
blues
blues rock
Bluescreen
Bluetech
BMG
Boards Of Canada
Bob Dylan
Bob Marley
Bobina
Bogdan Raczynzki
Bombay Records
Bone Thugs-N-Harmony
Boney M
Bong Load Records
Bonobo
Bonzai
Boogie Down Productions
Booka Shade
Boom Boom Satellites
Botchit & Scarper
Bows
Boxed
Boys Noize
Boysnoize Records
BPitch Control
braindance
Brandt Brauer Frick
Brasil & The Gallowbrothers Band
breakbeats
breakcore
breaks
Brian Eno
Brian Wilson
Brick Records
Britpop
Brodinski
broken beat
Brooklyn Music Ltd
Bryan Adams
BT
Bubble
Buffalo Springfield
Bulk Recordings
Burial
Burned CDs
Bursak Records
Bush
Busta Rhymes
Buttertones
bvdub
C.I.A.
Calibre
calypso
Canibus
Canned Resistor
Canopy Of Stars
Capitol Records
Capsula
Captain Hollywood Project
Captured Digital
Carbon Based Lifeforms
Caribou
Carl B
Carl Craig
Carlos Ferreira
Carol C
Caroline Records
Carpe Sonum Novum
Carpe Sonum Records
Castroe
Casual
Cat Sun
CD-Maximum
Ceephax Acid Crew
Celestial Dragon Records
Cell
Celtic
Centaspike
Cevin Fisher
Cheb i Sabbah
Cheeky Records
chemical breaks
Chihei Hatakeyama
Children Of The Bong
chill out
chill-out
chiptune
Chris Duckenfield
Chris Fortier
Chris Korda
Chris Liebing
Chris Sheppard
Chris Witoski
Christmas
Christopher Lawrence
Chromeo
Chronos
Chrysalis
Ciaran Byrne
cinematic soundscapes
Circle of Pines
Circular
Ciro Berenguer
Cirrus
Cities Last Broadcast
City Of Angels
CJ Stone
Claptone
classic house
classic rock
classical
Claude Young
Clear Label Records
Clementz
Cleopatra
Cloud 9
Club Culture
Club Cutz
Club Tools
Cocoon Recordings
Cold Spring
Coldcut
Coldplay
coldwave
Colette
collagist
Columbia
Com.Pact Records
Coma Eye
comedy
Compilation
Comrie Smith
Congo Natty
Conjure One
Connect.Ohm
conscious
Control Music
Convextion
Cooking Vinyl
Cor Fijneman
Corderoy
Cosmic Gate
Cosmic Replicant
Cosmo Cocktail
Cosmos Studios
Cottonbelly
Council Estate Electronics
Council Of Nine
Counter Records
country
country rock
Covert Operations Recordings
Craig Padilla
Craig Richards
Crazy Horse
Cream
Creamfields
Creedence Clearwater Revival
Crockett's Theme
Crosby Stills And Nash
Crossing Mind
Crosstown Rebels
crunk
Cryo Chamber
Cryobiosis
Cryogenic Weekend
Cryostasis
Crystal Moon
Cube Guys
Culture Beat
Curb Records
Current
Curve
cut'n'paste
CYAN
Cyan Music
Cyber Productions
CyberOctave
Cyclic Law
Cygna
Cymphonica
Cypher 7
Cypress Hill
Cyril Secq
Czarface
D York
D-Bridge
D-Fuse
D-Topia Entertainment
Daar
Dacru Records
Daddy G
Daft Punk
Dag Rosenqvist
Damian Lazarus
Damon Albarn
Damon Wild
Dan Terminus
Dan The Automator
Dance 2 Trance
Dance Pool
Dance With The Dead
dancehall
Daniel Heatcliff
Daniel Lentz
Daniel Pemberton
Daniel Wanrooy
Danny Howells
Danny Tenaglia
Dao Da Noize
Daphni
dark ambient
dark disco
dark psy
darkcore
darkside
darkstep
darksynth
darkwave
Darla Records
Darren Emerson
Darren McClure
Darren Nye
DAT Records
Databloem
dataObscura
David Alvarado
David Bickley
David Bridie
David Cordero
David Guetta
David Morley
DDR
De-tuned
Dead Coast
Dead Melodies
Deadmau5
Death Grips
death metal
Death Row Records
Decimal
Deconstruction
Dedicated
Deejay Goldfinger
Deep Dish
Deep Forest
deep house
Deeply Rooted House
Deepwater Black
Deetron
Def Jam Recordings
Del Tha Funkee Homosapien
Delerium
Delsin
Deltron 3030
Denshi Danshi
Depeche Mode
Der Dritte Raum
Derek Carr
Detroit
Deviant Records
Devin Underwood
Devroka
Deysn Masiello
DFA
DGC
diametric.
Dido
Dieselboy
Different
DigiCube
Dillinja
Dirk Serries
dirty house
Dirty South
Dirty Vegas
Dis Fig
disco
Disco Gecko
disco house
Disco Pinata Records
disco punk
Discover (label)
Disky
Disques Dreyfus
Distant System
Distinct'ive Breaks
Disturbance
Divination
DJ 3000
DJ Brian
DJ Craze
DJ Dag
DJ Dan
DJ Dean
DJ Gonzalo
DJ Heather
DJ John Kelley
DJ John Storm
DJ Merlin
DJ Mix
DJ Moe Sticky
DJ Observer
DJ Premier
DJ Q-Bert
DJ Shadow
DJ Soul Slinger
DJ-Kicks
Djen Ajakan Shean
DJMag
DMC
DMC Records
Doc Scott
Dogon
Dogwhistle
Dooflex
Doom Poets
Dopplereffekt
Dossier
Dousk
downtempo
dowtempo
Dr. Alban
Dr. Atmo
Dr. Dre
Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show
Dr. Octagon
Dragon Quest
dream house
dream pop
DreamWorks Records
Drexciya
drill 'n' bass
Dronarivm
drone
Dronny Darko
drum 'n' bass
DrumNBassArena
drumstep
drunken review
dub
Dub Pistols
dub techno
Dub Trees
Dubfire
dubstep
Dubtribe Sound System
DuMonde
Dune
Dusted
Dyadik
Dynatron
E-Mantra
E-Z Rollers
Eardream Music
Earth
Earth Nation
Earthling
Eastcoast
Eastcost
Eastern Dub Tactik
EastWest
Eastworld
Eat Static
EBM
Echodub
Ed Rush & Optical
Editions EG
EDM World Weekly News
Ektoplazm
Electric Universe
electro
Electro House
Electro Sun
electro-funk
electro-pop
electroclash
Electronic Dance Essentials
Electronic Music Guide
Electrovoya
Elektra
Elektrolux
em:t
EMC update
EMI
Emiliana Torrini
Eminem
Emmerichk
Emperor Norton
Empire
enCAPSULAte
Encym
Engine Recordings
Enigma
Enmarta
Ensiferum
Enya
EP
Epic
epic trance
EQ Recordings
Equal Stones
Erased Tapes Records
Eric Borgo
Erik Vee
Erol Alkan
Escape
Esko Barba
Esoteric Reactive
Espacio Cielo
ethereal
Etic
Etnica
Etnoscope
Euphoria
euro dance
eurodance
eurotrance
Eurythmics
Eve Records
Everlast
Ewan Pearson
Exitab
experimental
Eye Q Records
Ezdanitoff
F Communications
Fabric
Facture
Fade Records
Faex Optim
Faint
Faithless
Falcon Reekon
Fallen
False Mirror
fanfic
Fantastisizer
Fantasy Enhancing
faru
Fatboy Slim
Fax +49-69/450464
Fear Factory
Fedde Le Grand
Fehrplay
Feist
Fektive Records
Felix da Housecat
Fennesz
Ferry Corsten
FFRR
Fictivision
field recordings
Filter
Filteria
filters
Final Fantasy
Firescope
Five AM
Fjäder
Flashover Recordings
Floating Points
Flowers For Bodysnatchers
Flowjob
Fluke
Fluxion
Flying Lotus
folk
Fontana
footwork
Force Intel
Fountain Music
Four Tet
FPU
Frame
Frame Of Mind
Francis M Gri
Frank Bretschneider
Frankie Bones
Frankie Knuckles
Frans de Waard
Fred Everything
freestyle
French house
Front Line Assembly
Frou Frou
fsoldigital.com
Fugees
full-on
Fun Factory
Function
funk
future garage
Future Sound Of London
Futuregrapher
futurepop
g-funk
G-Prod
gabber
Gabriel Le Mar
Gaither Music Group
Galaktlan
Galati
Gang Starr
gangsta
garage
Gareth Davis
Gary Martin
Gas
Gasoline Alley Records
Gee Street
Geffen Records
Gel-Sol
Genesis
Geometry Combat
George Issakidis
Gerald Donald
Get Physical Music
ghetto
Ghostface Killah
Ghostly International
Glacial Movements Records
glam
Gliese 581C
glitch
Glitch Hop
Global Communication
Global Underground
Globular
goa trance
Goasia
God Body Disconnect
God's Groove
Gorillaz
gospel
Gost
goth
Grammy Awards
Gravediggaz
Green Bay Wax
Green Day
Grey Area
Greytone
Gridlock
grime
Groove Armada
Groove Corporation
Grooverider
grunge
Guru
Gustaf Hidlebrand
Gusto Records
GZA
H:U:M
H2O Records
Haddaway
Halgrath
happy hardcore
hard house
hard rock
hard techno
hard trance
hardcore
Hardfloor
Hardly Art
hardstyle
Harlequins Enigma
Harmless
Harmonic 33
Harmonic Resonance Recordings
Harold Budd
Harthouse
Harthouse Mannheim
Hawtin
Headphone
Hearts Of Space
Hed Kandi
Hefty Records
Helen Marnie
Hell
Hercules And Love Affair
Hernán Cattáneo
Herne
Hexstatic
Hi-Bias Records
Hic Sunt Leones
Hide And Sequence
Hiero Emperium
Hieroglyphics
High Contrast
High Note Records
Higher Ground
Higher Intelligence Agency
Hilyard
hip-hop
hip-house
hipno
Hollywood Burns
Home Normal
Honest Jon's Records
Hooj Choons
Hope Records
horrorcore
Hospital Records
Hot Chip
Hotflush Recordings
house
Howie B
Huey Lewis & The News
Human Blue
Humanoid
Hybrid
Hybrid Leisureland
Hymen Records
Hyperdub
Hypertrophy
Hypnotic
Hypnoxock
I Awake
I-Cube
i! Records
I.F.
I.F.O.R.
I.R.S. Records
Iboga Records
Icarus Music
Ice Cube
Ice H2o Records
ICE MC
IDM
Iempamo
Ignis Fatum
Igorrr
Ikjoyce
illbient
ILUITEQ
Imogen Heap
Imperial Dancefloor
Imploded View
In Charge
In Trance We Trust
Incoming
Incubus
Indica Records
indie rock
Indisc
Industrial
Infastructure New York
Infected Mushroom
Infinite Guitar
influence records
Infonet
Inhmost
Ink Midget
Inner Ocean Records
Innovative Leisure Records
Insane Clown Posse
Inspectah Deck
Instinct Ambient
Instra-Mental
Intellitronic Bubble
Inter-Modo
Interchill Records
Internal
International Deejays Gigolo
Interscope Records
Intimate Productions
Intuition Recordings
ISBA Music Entertainment
Ishkur
Ishq
Island Def Jam Music Group
Island Records
Islands Of Light
Italians Do It Better
italo disco
italo house
Item Caligo
J-pop
Jack Moss
Jackpot
Jacob Newman
Jafu
Jake Stephenson
Jam and Spoon
Jam El Mar
James Blake
James Holden
James Horner
James Lavelle
James Murray
James Zabiela
Jamie Jones
Jamie Myerson
Jamie Principle
Jamiroquai
Javelin Ltd.
Jay Haze
Jay Tripwire
Jaydee
jazz
jazz dance
jazzdance
jazzstep
Jean-Michel Jarre
Jefferson Airplane
Jerry Goldsmith
Jesper Dahlbäck
Jessy Lanza
Jimmy Van M
Jiri.Ceiver
Jive
Jive Electro
Jliat
Jlin
JMJ
Joel Mull
Joey Beltram
John '00' Fleming
John Acquaviva
John Beltran
John Digweed
John Graham
John Kelly
John O'Callaghan
John Oswald
John Shima
Johnny Cash
Johnny Jewel
Jon Hester
Jonny L
Jori Hulkkonen
Joris Voorn
Jørn Stenzel
Josh Christie
Josh Wink
Journeys By DJ™ LLC
Joyful Noise Recordings
Juan Atkins
juke
Jump Cut
jump up
Jumpin' & Pumpin'
jungle
Junior Boy's Own
Junkie XL
Juno Reactor
Jupiter 8000
Jurassic 5
Kaico
Kay Wilder
KDJ
Keith Farrugia
Ken Ishii
Kenji Kawai
Kenny Glasgow
Keoki
Keosz
Kerri Chandler
Kevin Braheny
Kevin Yost
Kevorkian Records
Khetzal
Khooman
Khruangbin
Ki/oon
Kid Koala
Kiko
Killing Joke
Kinder Atom
Kinetic Records
King Cannibal
King Midas Sound
King Tubby
Kiphi
Kitaro
Klang Elektronik
Klaus Schulze
Klik Records
KMFDM
Koch Records
Koichi Sugiyama
Kolhoosi 13
Komakino
Kompakt
Kon Kan
Kool Keith
Kozo
Kraftwelt
Kraftwerk
Krafty Kuts
Kranky
krautrock
Kriistal Ann
Krill.Minima
Kris O'Neil
Kriztal
KRS-One
Kruder and Dorfmeister
Krusseldorf
Krystian Shek
Kubinski
KuckKuck
Kulor
Kurupt
Kwook
L.B. Dub Corp
L.S.G.
L'usine
La Luz
Lab 4
Ladytron
LaFace Records
Lafleche
Lamb
Lange
Large Records
Lars Leonhard
Laserlight Digital
LateNightTales
Latin
Laurent Garnier
Layer 3
LCD Soundsystem
Le Moors
Leaf
Leama and Moor
Lee 'Scratch' Perry
Lee Burridge
Lee Norris
Leftfield
Leftfield Records
Legacy
Legiac
Legowelt
Lemony Records
Leon Bolier
Les Disques Du Crépuscule
LFO
Linear Labs
Lingua Lustra
Lionel Weets
Liquid Frog Records
liquid funk
Liquid Sound Design
Liquid Stranger
Liquid Zen
Literon
Live
live album
LL Cool J
lo fi
Loco Dice
Lodsb
LoFi
Logic Records
London acid crew
London Classics
London Elektricity
London Records 90 Ltd
London-Sire Records
LongWalkShortDock
Loop Guru
Loreena McKennitt
Lorenzo Masotto
Lorenzo MontanÃ
loscil
Lost Language
Lotek Records
Loud Records
Louderbach
Loverboy
Lowfish
Luaka Bop
Lucette Bourdin
Luciano
Luke Slater
Lunarian Records
Lustmord
M_nus
M.A.N.D.Y.
M.I.K.E.
Mack 10
Madonna
Magda
Magik Muzik
Mahiane
Mali
Malignant Records
Mammoth Records
Mantacoup
Marc Simz
Marcel Dettmann
Marcel Fengler
Marco Carola
Marco V
Marcus Intalex
Mark Farina
Mark Norman
Mark Pritchard
Markus Schulz
Marshmello
Martin Allin
Martin Cooper
Martin Nonstatic
Märtini Brös
Marvin Gaye
Maschine
Massimo Vivona
Massive Attack
Masta Killa
Master Margherita
Masterboy
Matthew Dear
Max Graham
maximal
Maxx
MCA
MCA Records
McProg
Meanwhile
Meat Loaf
Median Project
Medicine Label
Meditronica
Melusine Records
Memex
Menno de Jong
Mercury
Merr0w
Mesmobeat
metal
Metal Blade Records
Metamatics
Method Man
Metro Area
Metroplex
Metropolis
MF Doom
Miami Bass
Miami Beach Force
Miami Dub Machine
Michael Brook
Michael Jackson
Michael Mantra
Michael Mayer
Michael Stearns
Mick Chillage
micro-house
microfunk
Microscopics
MIG
Miguel Migs
Mike Saint-Jules
Mike Shiver
Miktek
Mille Plateaux
Millennium Records
Mind Distortion System
Mind Over MIDI
mini-CDs
minimal
minimal tech-house
Ministry Of Sound
miscellaneous
Misja Helsloot
Miss Kittin
Miss Moneypenny's
Mistical
Mixmag
Mixmaster Morris
Mo Wax
Mo-Do
MO-DU
Moby
Model 500
modern classical
Modeselektor
Mohlao
Moist Music
Moljebka Pvulse
Moodymann
Moonshine
Morgan
Morphic Resonance
Morphology
Moss Covered Technology
Moss Garden
Motech
Motionfield
Motorbass
Mount Shrine
Move D
Moving Shadow
Mr. Scruff
Mujaji
Murk
Murmur
Mushy Records
Music link
Music Man Records
musique concrete
Mutant Sound System
Mute
MUX
Muzik Magazine
My Best Friend
Mystery Tape Laboratory
Mystica Tribe
Mystified
N-Trance
Nacht Plank
Nadia Ali
Nano Records
Napalm Records
Nas
Nashville
Natural Life Essence
Natural Midi
Nature Sounds
Naughty By Nature
Nav Bhinder
Nebula
Neil Young
Neo Ouija
Neo-Adventures
Neogoa
Neon Droid
Neotantra
Neotropic
nerdcore
Nervous Records
Nettwerk
Neurobiotic Records
neurofunk
Neuropa Records
New Age
New Beat
New Jack Swing
New Order
new wave
Nic Fanciulli
Nick Höppner
Night Hex
Night Time Stories
Nightmares On Wax
Nightwind Records
Nimanty
Nine Inch Nails
Ninja Tune
Nirvana
nizmusic
No Mask Effect
Nobuo Uematsu
noise
Noise Factory Records
Nomad
Nonesuch
Nonplus Records
Nookie
Nordic Trax
Norken
Norman Cook
Norman Feller
North South
Northumbria
Not Now Music
Nothing Records
Nova
NovaMute
NRG
Ntone
nu-italo
nu-jazz
nu-metal
nu-skool
Nuclear Blast
Nuclear Blast Entertainment
Nulll
Nunc Stans
Nurse With Wound
NXP
Nyquist
Oasis
Ocelot
Octagen
Offshoot
Offshoot Records
Ol' Dirty Bastard
Olan Mill
Old Europa Cafe
old school rave
Ole Højer Hansen
Olga Musik
Olien
Oliver Lieb
Olivier Orand
Olsen
OM Records
Omni Trio
Omnimotion
Omnisonus
On Delancey Street
One Little Indian
Onyx
Oophoi
Oosh
Open
Open Canvas
Opium
Opus III
orchestral
Original TranceCritic review
Origo Sound
Orkidea
Orla Wren
Ornament
Ostgut Ton
Ott
Ottsonic Music
Ouragan
Out Of The Box
OutKast
Outmosphere Records
Outpost Records
Overdream
Owl
P-Ben
Pale Glow
Paleowolf
Pan Sonic
Pantera
Pantha Du Prince
Paolo Mojo
Parental Advisory
Parlaphone
Part-Sub-Merged
Pascal F.E.O.S.
Past Inside The Present
Patreon
Patrick Dream
Paul Moelands
Paul Oakenfold
Paul van Dyk
Pendulum
Pentatonik
Perfect Stranger
Perfecto
Perturbator
Pet Shop Boys
Petar Dundov
Pete Namlook
Pete Tong
Peter Andersson
Peter Benisch
Peter Broderick
Peter Gabriel
Peter Tosh
Phantogram
Phonothek
Photek
Phutureprimitive
Phynn
PIAS Recordings
Pinch
Pink Floyd
Pioneer
Pitch Black
PJ Harvey
Plaid
Planet Dog
Planet Earth Recordings
Planet Mu
Planetary Assault Systems
Planetary Consciousness
Plastic City
Plastikman
Platinum
Platipus
Pleq
Plump DJs
Plunderphonic
Plus 8 Records
PM Dawn
Poker Flat Recordings
Polar Seas Recordings
Pole Folder
politics
Polydor
Polytel
pop
Popular Records
Porya Hatami
positivesource
post-dubstep
post-punk
power electronics
Prince
Prince Paul
Prins Thomas
Priority Records
Private Mountain
Procs
Profondita
prog
prog metal
prog psy
prog rock
prog-psy
progress house
Progression
progressive breaks
progressive house
progressive rock
progressive trance
Prolifica
Proper Records
Prototype Recordings
protoU
Pryda
psy chill
psy dub
Psy Spy Records
psy trance
psy-chill
psy-dub
psychedelia
Psychick Warriors Ov Gaia
Psychomanteum
Psychonavigation
Psychonavigation Records
Psycoholic
Psykosonik
Psysolation
Public Enemy
Pulse-8 Records
punk
punk rock
Pureuphoria Records
Purl
Purple Soil
Push
PWL International
Quadrophonia
Quality
Quango
Quantic
Quantum
Quinlan Road
R & S Records
R'n'B
R&B
Ra
Rabbit In The Moon
Radio Slave
Radioactive
Radioactive Man
Radiohead
Rae
Raekwon
ragga
Rainbow Vector
raison d'etre
Raja Ram
Ralf Hildenbeutel
Ralph Lawson
RAM Records
Randal Collier-Ford
Random Review
Rank 1
rant
Rapoon
RareNoise Records
Ras Command
Rascalz
Raster-Noton
Ratatat
Raum Records
rave
RCA
React
Rebecca & Nathan
Recycle Or Die
Red Fog
Red Jerry
Redman
Refracted
reggae
ReKaB
REKIDS
remixes
Renaissance
Renaissance Man
Rephlex
Reprise Records
Republic Records
Resist Music
Restless Records
RetroSynther
Reverse Alignment
Reverse Pulse
Rhino Records
Rhys Fulber
Ricardo Villalobos
Richard Durand
Richard Stonefield
Riley Reinhold
Ringo Sheena
Rising High Records
RnB
Roadrunner Records
Robert Hood
Robert Miles
Robert Oleysyck
Robert Rich
Roc Raida
rock
rock opera
rockabilly
rocktronica
Roger Sanchez
ROIR
Rollo
Roman Ridder
Rough Trade
Rub-N-Tug
Ruben Garcia
Rudy Adrian
Ruffhouse Records
Rumour Records
Running Back
Ruptured World
Ruthless Records
RX-101
Rykodisc
RZA
S.E.T.I.
Saafi Brothers
Sabled Sun
Sacred Seeds
SadGirl
Saitoh Tomohiro
Sakanaction
Salt Tank
Salted Music
Salvation Music
Samim
Samora
sampling
Samurai Red Seal
Sanctuary Records
Sander van Doorn
Sandoz
Sandwell District
SantAAgostino
Saphileaum
Sarah McLachlan
Sash
Sasha
Saul Stokes
Scandinavian Records
Scann-Tec
sci-fi
Science
Scooter
Scott Grooves
Scott Hardkiss
Scott Stubbs
Scuba
Seán Quinn
Seaworthy
Segue
Sense
Sentimony Records
Sequential
Seraphim Rytm
Setrise
Seven Davis Jr.
Sghor
sgnl_fltr
Shackleton
Shaded Explorations
Shaded Explorer
Shadow Records
Sharam
Shawn Francis
shoegaze
Shpongle
Shuta Yasukochi
Si Matthews
Side Effects
SideOneDummy Records
Sidereal
Signature Records
SiJ
Silent Season
Silent Universe
Silentes
Silentes Minimal Editions
Silicone Soul
silly gimmicks
Silver Age
Simian Mobile Disco
Simon Berry
Simon Heath
Simon Posford
Simon Scott
Simple Records
Sinden
Sine Silex
single
Single Gun Theory
Sire Records Company
Six Degrees
Sixeleven Records
Sixtoo
ska
Skanfrom
Skare
Skin To Skin
Skua Atlantic
Slaapwel Records
Slam
Sleep Research Facility
Slinky Music
Slowcraft Records
Sly and Robbie
Smalltown Supersound
SME Visual Works Inc.
SMTG Limited
Snap
Sneijder
Snoop Dogg
Snowy Tension Pole
soft rock
Soiree Records International
Solar Fields
Solaris Recordings
Solarstone
Soleilmoon Recordings
Solieb
Solieb Digital
Solipsism
Soliquid
Solstice Music Europe
Solvent
Soma Quality Recordings
Songbird
Sony Music Entertainment
SOS
soul
Soul Temple Entertainment
soul:r
Souls Of Mischief
Sound Of Ceres
Soundgarden
Sounds From The Ground
soundtrack
southern rap
southern rock
space ambient
Space Dimension Controller
space disco
Space Manoeuvres
space music
space synth
Spacetime Continuum
Spaghetti Recordings
Spank Rock
Special D
Specta Ciera
speed garage
Speedy J
SPG Music
Sphäre Sechs
Spicelab
Spielerei
Spinefarm Records
Spiritech
spoken word
Sport
Spotify Suggestions
Spotted Peccary
Spring Hill
SPX Digital
Spy vs Spice
Squarepusher
Squaresoft
Stacey Pullen
Stanton Warriors
Star Trek
Stardust
Statrax
Stay Up Forever
Stealth Sonic Recordings
Stephanie B
Stephen Kroos
Stereolab
Steve Angello
Steve Brand
Steve Lawler
Steve Miller Band
Steve Porter
Steven Rutter
Stijn van Cauter
Stimulus Timbre
Stone Temple Pilots
Stonebridge
Stormloop
Stray Gators
Street Fighter
Stuart McLean
Studio K7
Stylophonic
Sub Focus
Subharmonic
Sublime
Sublime Porte Netlabel
Subotika
Substance
Suction Records
Suduaya
Suicide Squeeze
SUN Project
Sun Station
Sunbeam
Sunday Best Recordings
Sunscreem
Suntrip Records
Supercar
Superstition
surf rock
Susumu Yokota
Sven Väth
SVLBRD
Swayzak
Sweet Trip
swing
Switch
Swollen Members
Sykonee Survey
Sylk 130
Symmetry
Synaptic Voyager
Sync24
Synergy
Synkro
synth pop
synth-pop
synthwave
System 7
Tactic Records
Take Me To The Hospital
Tall Paul
Tammy Wynette
Tangerine Dream
Tau Ceti
Taylor
Tayo
tech house
Tech Itch Digital
Tech Itch Recordings
tech-house
tech-step
tech-trance
Technical Itch
techno
technobass
Technoboy
Tectonic
Telefon Tel Aviv
Telstar
Terminal Antwerp
Terra Ferma
Terror Cell
Terry Lee Brown Jr
Tetsu Inoue
Textere Oris
The 13th Sign
The Angling Loser
The B-52's
The Beach Boys
The Beatles
The Black Dog
The Boats
The Brian Jonestown Massacre
The Bug
The Chemical Brothers
The Circular Ruins
The Clash
The Council
The Cranberries
The Crystal Method
The Digital Blonde
The Dust Brothers
The Field
The Frozen Vaults
The Gentle People
The Glimmers
The Green Kingdom
The Grey Area
The Grid
The Hacker
The Herbaliser
The Human League
The Irresistible Force
The KLF
The Micronauts
The Misted Muppet
The Movement
The Music Cartel
The Null Corporation
The Oak Ridge Boys
The Offspring
The Orb
The Police
The Prodigy
The Real McCoy
The Roots
The Sabres Of Paradise
The Shamen
The Sharp Boys
The Sonic Voyagers
The Squires
The Stills-Young Band
The Stray Gators
The Tea Party
The Tragically Hip
The Velvet Underground
The Wailers
The White Stripes
The Winterhouse
themes
Thievery Corporation
Third Contact
Third World
Tholen
Thrive Records
Tiefschwarz
Tierro Cosmico
Tiësto
Tiga
Tiger & Woods
Tijuana Panthers
Time Life Music
Time Warp
Timecode
Timestalker
Tineidae
Tipper
Tobias
Tocadisco
Todd Terje
Toki Fuko
Tom Middleton
Tom Tom Club
Tomas Jirku
Tomita
Tommy '86
Tommy Boy
Ton T.B.
Tone Depth
Tony Anderson Sound Orchestra
Too Pure
Tool
tools
Topaz
Tosca
Toto
Touch
Touched
Tourette Records
Toxik Synther
Tracing Xircles
Traffic Entertainment Group
trance
Trancelucent
Tranquillo Records
Trans'Pact
Transcend
Transformers
Transient Records
trap
Trax Records
Trend
Trentemøller
Tresor
tribal
Tricky
Triloka Records
trip-hop
Triquetra
Trishula Records
Tristan
Troum
Troy Pierce
TRS Records
Tru Thoughts
Tsuba Records
Tsubasa Records
Tuff Gong
Tunnel Records
Turbo Recordings
turntablism
TUU
TVT Records
Twisted Records
Type O Negative
Týr
U-God
U-Recken
U2
U4IC DJs
Ãœberzone
Ugasanie
UK acid house
UK Garage
UK Hard House
Ultimae Records
Ultra Records
Umbra
Underworld
Union Jack
United Dairies
United DJs Of America
United Recordings
Universal Motown
Universal Music
Universal Records
Universal Republic Records
UNKLE
Unknown Tone Records
Unusual Cosmic Process
UOVI
Upstream Records
Urban Icon Records
Utada Hikaru
V2
Vagrant Records
Valanx
Valiska
Valley Of The Sun
Vangelis
Vap
VAST
Vector Lovers
Venetian Snares
Venonza Records
Vermont
Vernon
Versatile Records
Verus Records
Verve Records
VGM
Vibrant Music
Vice Records
Victor Calderone
Victor Entertainment
Vidna Obmana
Viking metal
Vince DiCola
Vinyl Cafe Productions
Virgin
Virtual Vault
Virus Recordings
Visionquest
Visions
Vitalic
vocal trance
Vortex
Voxxov Records
Voyage
Wagram Music
Waki
Wanderwelle
Warmth
Warner Bros. Records
Warp Records
Warren G
Water Music Dance
Wave Recordings
Wave Records
Waveform
Waveform Records
Wax Trax Records
Way Out West
WC
WEA
Wednesday Campanella
Weekend Players
Weekly Mini-Review
Werk Discs
Werkstatt Recordings
WestBam
Westside Connection
White Cloud
White Swan Records
Wichita
Will Saul
William Orbit
Willie Nelson
Wintersun
world beat
world music
writing reflections
Wrong Records
Wu-Tang Clan
Wurrm
Wyatt Keusch
Xerxes The Dark
XL Recordings
XTT Recordings
Yahgan
Yamaoka
Yello
Yes
Ylid
Youth
Youtube
YoYo Records
Yul Records
zakè
Zenith
ZerO One
Zoharum
Zomby
Zoo Entertainment
ZTT
Zyron
ZYX Music
µ-Ziq