Inspectah Deck - The Movement

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.