Cypress Hill - III - Temples Of Boom

Columbia: 1995

You're one of the biggest names in hip-hop, but it's almost entirely because of a mega-hit single that's something of a novelty track. Of course, Cypress Hill never intended Insane In The Brain to reach such market penetration that even white-bread suburbia was singing it. Indeed, if anyone actually paid attention to the lyrical content, it's not a terribly positive spin on psychedelic abuse. Have it wrapped in an upbeat rhythm and irresistible earworm of a chorus, however, and no one will know. Or care.

Perhaps Cypress Hill did care though, which would explain why their follow-up to the multi-platinum Black Sunday - III: Temples Of Boom - went in such a drastic, darker turn compared to their prior work. Yeah, there always was an edge to the music DJ Muggs produced, the sort of street-level grit that came with the sampledelic nature to his tunes. Rare would it get outright Gothic and bleak. It's like he took the moody atmosphere of Cock The Hammer and thought: “Yeah, a whole album of that!”

So Temples Of Boom comes with an extra layer of grime and grit, as if south California has never seen a ray of light, everything blanketed with paranoia and... Well, not quite despair, moments for a casual blaze still releasing some of the pressure cooker of existence. Still, better watch your back, because these streets are just as savage as ever, 'hoods getting ever deeper into their primal psychosis. I mean, if the lead singles of Throw Your Set In The Air and Illusions don't portray an existence just barely hanging on by a thread, I don't know what will.

The only comparison I can make of Temples Of Boom - at least in this era of hip-hop - are the harrowing moments as heard in Liquid Swords. Which makes sense, as RZA drops in for some beats and bars on Killa Hill Niggas. I just have to imagine Muggs taking notes down from Bobby Digital, like a young monk studiously listening to the words his master is speechifying.

“But wait,” you say, “aren't Cypress Hill megastars now? How do they get off rapping about gangsta' shit?” Ah, therein lies the secret genius of Temples Of Boom: they're not literally rapping about lived experiences here (though they had), but as more a concept, an urban horror story, focused on mood and atmosphere rather than explicit realism. In fact, the few times they do touch upon Real World things (scene posers in Strictly Hip Hop; outright dissing former friend Ice Cube in No Rest For The Wicked), you're taken out of their grim world. Well, lyrically anyway, Muggs' beats still on point throughout.

I'll just go ahead and say Temples Of Boom is easily Cypress Hill's most underappreciated record. Yes, it was a stark turn at the height of their fame, but having gone through the entirety of their discography, almost nothing comes close to how creatively atmospheric they went here – easily until Elephants On Acid.

Nas - God's Son

Columbia: 2002

I will never claim being an expert in all things Nasir Jones. For the longest time, all I really engaged with him was the obligatory purchase of Illmatic every fan of hip-hop must. For sure there were parts of his career that intrigued me, but little I was compelled to dig into.

So take this with as much sodium carbonate as you can handle without causing kidney stones, but having actually listened to most of Nas' discography now, I'm claiming God's Son the best of his '00s output. Yes, better than the comeback Stillmatic, better than the critical darlings of Hip Hop Is Dead and untitled, and most definitely better than the double-LP Street's Disciple (think everyone agrees that's the worst of the decade).

This isn't me just being contrarian, saying such for hipster cred or something. Yeah, this album doesn't get brought up as much as the others, so is easily forgotten. It doesn't have any outright bangers or easy talking points going for it. No, just a solid record front to back (well, save one track), and in my mind, that's its greatest feat. The only other release under Nas' belt to that point you could say the same of was Illmatic, and though It Was Written and Stillmatic were good too, there were still a couple things holding them back from being as top tier. I'll touch on the former at a later date, but regarding Stillmatic, I felt it was as good as it needed to be, to resuscitate Nas' name in the rap world, and that's all. Was there that much doubt he could rebound though? Somehow I think not, most folks believing the ability was there, so long as the will was there.

Which is what makes God's Son that much better. Released a mere year after Stillmatic, whatever fire was lit under Mr. Jones continued burning hot (an artist like Nas doesn't lose inspiration just like that), now without some ungodly amount of expectation placed on him. Free to weave more 'hood tales, sexy come-ons, reflective poetry, Jay-Z disses, and the like, all refined to Eastcoast hip-hop perfection. Except Zone Out with Bravehearts. Have no idea what happened there.

Even the 'corny' tracks are fun! I Can is basically a 'work hard and honest to achieve your dreams' dressed in a uplifting-yet-rugged nursery rhyme. Book Of Rhymes has fun with the notion Nas owns pages of unused verses, presented with some self-deprecating humour. Another 'revived rhyme' from Tupac appears on the acoustic (!) Thugz Mansion (N.Y.).

To be fair, things get really metaphysical towards the end of God's Son, with more odes to the deceased and reflections on the future. I'll allow it, Nas having well earned the right to pontificate. And at less than an hour runtime, the whole record breezes right on by, leaving you wishing for more (like Illmatic!). Trust me when I say, even by 2002, the issue of rap album bloat hadn't subsided by a long-shot.

Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill

Ruffhouse Records: 1991

The only Cypress Hill album you're supposed to have, even if you're not much of a Cypress Hill fan. That's not my opinion, mind you, as I feel they have other records in their discography that surpass this one. And, as someone who has literally listened to every single LP they released, I feel somewhat qualified in making that assessment. What their self-titled debut has, however, is the gritty, street-level aesthetic that can't be recaptured after a group starts going platinum on the sales charts. The hungry spit-n-fire of young talent out to prove themselves worthy of standing in the same arena of all the established names. It's why so many debut hip-hop albums of this era are held in the highest regard - you either fire your best shot first, or get dumped to the dustbin of time.

As I said though, I think what Cypress Hill artistically accomplished on some future albums was even better than what we get here. Still, it's undeniable the group came out damn hot, and if you're strictly all about gangsta' rap sounding as raw and unpolished as can be, then I've no problem with folks proclaiming this is the one true Cypress Hill record above all.

And boy, does this record ever come in hot out the gate. Rappers had been making screeds against cops for a few years already, but none dared to open a debut on the topic, much less show no respect in titling it Pigs. Have I mentioned the Rodney King beating had happened shortly before Cypress Hill dropped?

But yes, the big tune off here is second track How I Could Just Kill A Man, where B-Real and Sen Dog go off on how life on the streets sometimes leads to committing acts you never thought capable of. More than that though, it established the vintage Cypress Hill parlay of Mr. Real chanting the chorus with Mr. Dog offering an earwormy call-and-response. Not to mention proving DJ Muggs had bigger things in mind than just producing basic hip-hop loops, throwing in squealing sirens and an organ breakdown for no other reason than he could. The original single for it though, featured The Phuncky Feel One, one of the tracks that kinda' holds this album back for me, more of a throwback '80s rap tune than featuring anything distinctly Cypress Hill. There's a couple tracks like it on here, such as The Funky Cypress Hill Shit, Real Estate, and Born To Get Busy. Production's still solid, just way more 'vintage' than what Muggs would go on to make.

Same can be said of their nods to weed smoking (Light Another, Stoned Is The Way Of The Walk) and the Latin side of street life (Hole In The Head, Latin Lingo, Tres Equis). They're gritty and unvarnished, but I've heard them make better. I guess it really does boil down to personal preference, which has enabled Cypress Hill to maintain a career for over three decades now. Something for everyone!

Cypress Hill - Black Sunday

Columbia: 1993

So I started a Cypress Hill collection. I'm surprised I even got into them this late in the game, but when one decides to digest an entire discography, sometimes some albums stand out so much, you just gotta' have it for yourself, proper-like. And if there's ever one album from this posse that you're supposed to have, even if you're not a Cypress Hill fan, it's easily this one. Is it their best album though? Oh, wait, I already said it was when I did my survey. Review's over, then!

Seriously though, it's surprising just how successful this album turned out, and not just because it's the one with Insane In The Brain on it. Okay, it's almost entirely because of that, but I mean how well the rest of album holds up despite its presentation. Like, if you didn't know better, you'd think this was something other than a hip-hop record just off of cover art alone. No street hoods menacingly glaring at a camera, no pictures of urban squalor, no bikini babes or bling paraded about. Just a stark cemetery with a dead tree and a pile of bones, a picture straight out of Gothic horror. What's gangsta' about being Goth? Sure, B-Real was part of the Bloods (they vampires, right?) before getting into music, but he never made it focus of his lyrics.

Yet some tracks paint quite the picture of rain-soaked streets with frightening things creeping in the shadows. Cock The Hammer especially captures this essence, an almost savage piece of imagery with thunder storms and distantly echoing alarms backing B-Real and Sen Dog going on about a stealthy hunt (some additional dancehall rapping don't hurt either in selling the 'concrete jungle' vibe). Quite a few tracks are of similar nature, living life on the edge trying to survive in an inhospitable environment. What's remarkable is half the time, such topics are seemingly played lightly. When The Shit Goes Down, What Go Around Come Around, Kid, and Hand On The Glock are comparatively bouncy and almost happy-go-lucky given the subject matter. I guess it couldn't be helped when your biggest hit is almost a novelty track, so some light-heart vibes would seep elsewhere. Or maybe it's just all that weed they be smokin' in the studio.

Yeah, they talk about the ol' mary jay on here, though not as much as some seem to remember, only two tracks really dedicated to it (Legalize It is just an interlude). Considering I Wanna Get High kicks the album off though, complete with a sample from Black Sabbath's The Wizard, it's easy to hear how that's the impression everyone comes away with. Excessive liner notes about hemp uses doesn't hurt either.

What's funny is, given marijuana's general acceptance in modern times, these tracks hold up better than the straight-up gangsta' posturing cuts. Ironic, considering rap music about drug use was once thought of as the more controversial topic than cliché-ridden gang bangin' lyrics.

Onyx - BacDaFucUp

JMJ: 1993

Even at the height of gangsta rap's cultural dominance, I never took it that seriously as a threat to society or whatever. Granted, I lived quite far away from South Central L.A., the back alleys of New York City, or wherever tales of 'hood life was happening. Even if a lot of it was total reality and not hyper sensationalized for commercial purposes, there always was a veneer of fantasy about it. Perhaps it was the movie CB4 making fun of the scene. Or maybe it was because, for all the threatening posturing these posses presented, many of them still had novelty crossover hits on the radio. Like, I felt more 'reactionary' to Ice-T's Body Count metal band than anything off his O.G. Original Gangster album (the record that got me gettin' gangsta' rap, for the record).

Onyx was different though. Something about this group felt, for lack of a better term, real and authentic. Not so much street hoodlums angry at the society that made them, but a gang lashing out at anything and anyone in general. A brash, punk attitude sneering through violent lyrics with raspy voices grown hoarse from all the shouting they do. Whereas other rap groups said they would beat your ass if you invaded their turf or dissed their clique, at least they were for 'logical' reasons. Onyx sounded like they'd beat your ass just because they could, no reason or rhyme needed to initiate combat mode.

Of course, for any rap group to stand out from their peers, they'd have to come out fierce and hard, standard brags and boasts just not cutting it. It's a testament to Onyx's fiery approach that they not only succeeded in that regard, but continued to thrive off that energy ever after. Even Wu-Tang Clan, whom were commonly referred to in tandem with Onyx as one of NYC's most vicious hip-hop debuts in '93, mellowed out over the years. Not so with Fedro Starr, Sonny Seeza and Sticky Fingaz (Big DS only appeared on this record). You picked up an Onyx album, you knew you were in for some head-bangin', slam dancin' action.

So a strong concept, rappers hungry to prove themselves, and tutelage from Jam Master Jay in bringing their mosh pit boom-bap into fruition. Perfect for the hardcore underground heads, but wouldn't you know it, they went and had a crossover hit too! How did that happen? Well, Slam is undeniably a proper headbanger, the sort of tune that'll get even wedding reception grandmothers be-boppin' with the bridesmaids. It's somehow not as menacing as anything else that appears on BacDaFucUp, yet just as effective in hyping the pits into apocalyptic anarchy.

Ah, right, the rest of the album. Lots of call-and-response raps, some mackin' on the ladies brags, and much shouting. Just... so much shouting. It's almost too much, tiring you out after a while. Then again, isn't the whole point of slam dancing in a mosh pit as much an endurance test?

Sykonee's 'Sportsing' Surveys: CYPRESS HILL

Like 99.5% of suburban Canadian white boys, I first learned about Cypress Hill when Insane In The Brain became a juggernaut of rap music. You could not escape this tune on your regular MuchMusic (re: Canuck MTV) rotation, and was practically guanteed a rinse out at the high school dance. Everyone loved the tune, including me, but over-exposure led to disinterest on my part, and I never gave the group much attention after.

Not so for some of my peers, the clutch of skaters and potheads I knew always blasting the Hill's weed anthems wherever they could. Even while working that little music shop at the ends of the earth, I'd still sell the odd copy of Black Sunday to a fresh batch of marijuana connoisseurs. I sometimes wondered, was there more to this team of B-Real, Sen Dog, and DJ Muggs than I gave them credit for? Some of their newer stuff I'd play didn't really catch my ear, but then I'd yet to be fully bitten by the hip-hop bug.

Fast forward many years later, and I'm playing GTA: San Andreas, hearing How I Could Just Kill A Man a whole lot while driving about Los Santos, digging it every time. Well, that's more than enough for me to want to hear if there's any more tracks in the Cypress Hill catalogue that I've overlooked. Seems like survey material to me!



















This survey certainly had its fair share of surprises. While I had a feeling I'd enjoy their first couple albums, I had no idea the Hill had some concept LPs under their belt too. Made me want to go out and get the records proper-like, so I could do a proper review of them at some point down the road! See, these aren't just mindless things to play while I'm burning calories, it's scouting for ace material too!

Who's next, then? Well, the poll I did on Mastodon ended up with a tie, Cypress Hill being co-winner. The other: Paul van Dyk! Yeah, I was shocked by the results too.

Parental Advisory - Ghetto Street Funk

MCA Records: 1993

The notion that Atlanta hip-hop didn't break out until OutKast and Goodie Mob dropped their debut albums is so ingrained in public discourse, folks don't realize that's not quite accurate. True, Southernplayisticadillacmuzik and Soul Food put the Georgian city on the map, even rescuing The South from general assumptions it was nothing but dirty bass music. There was an act that beat them to it though, dropping an album before those two LPs, also produced by Organized Noize, all part of the same Dungeon Family conglomerate. Yet I never see any namedrops for Parental Advisory (P.A.).

It's not like they were completely unknown, having some minor chart success at the turn of the century when southern hip-hop started its national ascent. For all intents, Mello, Big Reece, and K.P. should be on the tongues of far more people than 'those in the know'. Was the shadow cast by OutKast and Goodie Mob just too large to emerge from? Perhaps, but there may be another reason for P.A.'s Ghetto Street Funk going so overlooked when talking up seminal Atlanta rap albums: it doesn't really sound like a southern record.

Which is understandable, the 808-heavy, dirty south style the dominate sound around, and still frowned upon by the Very Important markets on the East and West coasts. If you wanted to come in with something more respectable in the early '90s, you had to sound like those regions, and that's what Ghetto Street Funk does, Organized Noize coming in hard with the jazz sample-heavy, combative Eastcoast boom, almost any trace of their Georgian origin absent. As for the rappers, Big Reece sounds like a heavier, baritone Chuck D, while Mello comes off like an aggressive Slick Rick, and both bring plenty of energy to the beats, keeping you at least engaged with their flows, if not their lyrical content. (I don't think K.P. does much, if any rapping on this album, mostly sticking to DJ scratching and such – it was still an important component to early '90s hip-hop!)

Topic-wise, P.A. mostly stick to the usual gangsta rap tropes, going on about how hard they are, how hard the street life is, how hard they'll hit back at any other crews that try to step up (or something). It's hard denying a lot of this can come of cliche, and may have back when no one knew much of anything about Atlanta hip-hop. Like, I had no idea of their origin, just knowing them from their one single on the CB4 soundtrack. That it would take OutKast's more laid-back vibe (and Organized Noize stripping the aggro back for that duo) to truly establish a distinct southern style cannot be overstated.

Thus Ghetto Street Funk remains an underground gem, stuck at a crossroad of changing trends. I can't say it deserved more recognition for what it does, but it does it as well as any early gangsta rap album out of the east. Worth a listen, if you fancy the stuff.

Various - CB4 (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)

MCA: 1993

CB4 is a cutting satire of the early '90s gangsta rap scene, specifically the rise of N.W.A., peeling back the macho facade that was often presented to Johnny-Q Public. As a hopelessly white teenager from the suburbs of Vancouver, however, I had no clue of what the Chris Rock movie was revealing. I thought it was just a funny comedy about rap music, of which I had barely begun digging into beyond whatever pop radio deemed appropriate. The 'hardest' I'd gotten for myself included some tracks off Ice-T's O.G. Original Gangster, and I came ever so close to nabbing Naughty By Nature's latest, had 2 Unlimited not intervened at the eleventh minute.

Truthfully, the only reason I got this soundtrack was from a little goading by peers while browsing a music shop. Yeah, we were fans of the movie, especially all the funny, dirty language as heard in such classics like Straight Outta Locash and Sweat Of My Balls. No way that I'd get this tape though, not with a musical taste that mostly consisted of music from the likes of “Weird” Al, Wayne's World, and whatever that “techno shit” was. Well, joke's on them, as not only did I buy that CB4 tape right then and there, but even pulled a 'prank' on our science teacher in getting him to listen to it too! Haha, oh, such rebellious youth, we was.

Enough anecdotes about buying my first rap album. What's even on this thing, and does it hold up nearly three decades on now? As a collection of hip-hop from the latter years of the Golden Era, it certainly does, but also kinda' ...doesn't? If we're being totally honest, there isn't anything on here considered an essential classic. And although some bonafide legends of rap in Public Enemy, KRS-One, and MC Ren show up, they were kinda' on the downswing of their careers at this point. Meanwhile, shining the spotlight on up-and-comers like Fu-Schnickens and Parental Advisory may have seemed beneficial at the time, but sputtered into nothing after. Still, keep an ear on that Blackstreet group, if they can shake the dated New Jack production from Teddy Riley for someone fresher.

Despite those criticism, there's still dope jams on here. Public Enemy may have seen better days, but Livin' In A Zoo (plus a Very Important sermon from Chuck D prior) kicks all kinds of ass. MC Ren's Mayday On The Frontline brings the proper gangsta menace to the show, while the Fu's Sneaking Up On Ya offers the lighter side of fancy world-play. Elsewhere, the Beastie Boys make a cameo in the DJ Hurricane led Stick 'Em Up, a tune about robbing people, and rather strange considering they were trying to shake off their younger, bratty attitudes. And for the “WTF?” records, here's P.M. Dawn's Nocturnal Is In The House, the spiritual group's own foray into hardcore. It's... not bad? The fact it also appears on a compilation that includes KRS-One makes it even more ironic.

Bone Thugs-N-Harmony - BTNHResurrection

Sony Music Entertainment: 2000

Feels like I've come full circle with- Ah, nope, not doing that bit again! Still, strange bit of circumstance that as we near this project's inevitable endpoint, I'm reviewing another act that kicked things off so long ago. Pretty sure it's the last of these – I don't have Yes' Captured Live lurking in the wings.

Anyhow, this was the CD that got me hooked on Bone Thugs, almost entirely due to one track. I'd heard their stuff before, thought it interesting for being so different with the double-time raps and harmonized choruses. BTNHResurrection convinced me these Cleveland chaps were operating on a totally different wavelength from contemporary gangstas though. All them others be rapping about getting drunk or stoned or crunk off PCP, but were any of them rapping about getting high off ecstasy? Not as heard on the track Ecstasy, and to a young raver such as I, it blew my mind. I don't know if these Thugs actually indulged in the ol' MDMA, but they sure captured the floaty, loved-up feeling of a good gurn in it, even if some of the lyrics turn weirdly violent at times. Ah, good ol' paranoia from a different kind of trip.

Still, one dope track isn't enough to make a fan of me (most of the time), but BTNHResurrection had plenty more going for it that convinced me these Bone brothers were worth scoping out further. Right from the drop in Show 'Em, they go into the swinging thug-hop, dropping verses as only Bone Thugs can. And hey, Flesh-N-Bone is here! Due to label nonsense, the fifth member of the group only sporadically appeared on prior albums. He gets plenty of space to show his verbal skills here, spitting on nearly every track. Remarkably, he kinda' sounds like Eazy-E, which is only fitting where Bone Thugs are concerned. Shame he'd be incarcerated shortly after this album's release, once again becoming just a mythical fifth member.

So you have your crime-riddin', gun toting street raps (2 Glocks, Murder One, Battlezone), the gettin' money raps (Resurrection (Paper, Paper), Can't Give It Up, Mind On Our Money), and the obligatory weed song (The Weed Song). There's also surprising reflection and future optimism here, as on tracks like, Change The World and Don't Worry, which would have been perfect cuts to end the album on. Unfortunately, three more tunes follow, none of which are bad but hobbles BTNHResurrection's play-through. Ending on a bonus cut of Bizzie Bone getting his mack on with One Night Stand just doesn't leave as lasting impression when compared to the double-shot of Mo' Murda and Shotz To Tha Double Glock on E. 1999 Eternal leaving you cold chillin'.

Re-arrange a few tracks, maybe cut a couple (Souljahs Marching feels redundant no matter what), and you'd have a record talked up just as fondly as any of Bone Thugs' '90s output. Sadly, bad management hobbled Bone Thugs' career in the following decade, and the group's been but a footnote since.

Westside Connection - Bow Down

Priority Records: 1996

Remember a time when this album was one of the biggest rap records around? Listening to it a quarter century on, it seems almost quaint, a relic of a bygone era of gangsta tropes that never transitioned into the next century. Bow Down though, wasn't so much a CD you bought to jam in your headphones/car/bicycle-with-boombox-in-basket, it was a statement. That you were down with flashing the 'W', westsi-i-i-de for life. Yes, even pasty-ass white-bread teenagers living in the hinterlands of Canada. Erm, not that I got this because I felt the need to 'represent' or something. I just liked the beats on here.

There's something utterly primal about the bare-bones g-funk on display in Bow Down, chiefly a simple thudding beat and punctual farty synth piercing the bass. Yet its effect in getting the heads boppin' and the hands waving is astounding, with Ice Cube sounding as fired up as he ever had. Mack 10 and WC, two chaps who had honed their skill with their own projects under the tutelage of Mr. Jackson's extended crew, knew this was a make-or-break chance for them, raising to the challenge with ease.

With that hot opener, you'd think this three-piece had been a tight-knit posse for years, a showing of strength from the West Coast that had been hinting at cracks forming as the '90s wore on. Yeah, 2Pac was one of the biggest names around, but much of Death Row Records was crumbling, all the while Ruthless Records was rudderless without Eazy-E. There were others out there, but things always came back to what the original N.W.A. crew were cooking up, of who'd be the leaders out there.

From the titular opener, Bow Down (the album) doesn't do much to shake the formula up. There are a few call-out tracks (All The Critics In New York, Cross 'Em Out And Put A 'K, the Cypress Hill diss King Of The Hill), and some lady mackin' cuts (Do You Like Criminals?, Westward Ho). Mostly though, it's Cube, Dub-C, and Mack-Daddy bragging about how gangsta they are, and how the West coast is the best coast. Again, hardly revolutionary stuff, but at a concise ten tracks with just enough variety between them, Bow Down never overstays its welcome.

Possibly the most brilliant moment comes mid-album, where The Gangsta, The Killa, And The Dope Dealer samples the opening guitar from Nine Inch Nails' Hurt. All the while WC gives a gang howl into the 'hood, painting an almost Gothic portrait of 'Killa Cali' street life. Gang-banging never sounded so picturesque.

With such a strong opening statement from Westside Connection, surely only future fortunes favored the trio, but their follow-up seven years later failed to capture the same hunger. Ice Cube and Mack 10 were more drawn to Hollywood by that point, while WC never quite broke out with the same level of fame. Still, he seems to have had the most productive album career post-Millennium. Might be worth a listen-in.

Various - Blade - Music From And Inspired By The Motion Picture

TVT Records: 1998

Plenty has been said how this movie ushered in a new era of comic book adaptations. That it rescued a quickly diminishing genre of film from the downward slide of Schumacher Batman into something once again credible and financially lucrative. That the cinematic juggernaut known as the MCU would never have gotten on the beachhead had this relatively unknown creative property of theirs been a box-office dud. Yes, all these things have been brought up by people who make it their business/career/hobby discussing such things, but that's not what I'm doing here.

Instead, I wish to make my own hot-take proclamation about Blade. More specifically the soundtrack: this was the last of a small but vital run of scores that people intimately associate with exactly one techno track, which everyone had to rush and buy because of needing that one techno track.

You know the type I'm talking about. Your 'Mortal Kombat Theme'. Your 'Trainspotting Theme'. Your, um, The Saint Theme. For a time in the '90s, a wave of movies featured some big thumping anthem as its centrepiece of music, forever tying song and cinema to specific scenes. For sure there were plenty of soundtracks that featured electronic music, before and well after Blade, but can you instantly identify That One Track out of any of them? No, Zion doesn't count. Even if folks do remember that scene (for all the wrong reasons), they definitely can't recall how its techno track sounds, preferably forgetting anything associated with the Matrix sequels.

You can't shake the image of Blade's blood rave and the pounding acid of Pump Panel's rub of New Order's Confusion though. There were plenty of other great artists with tunes in the movie – Photek, DJ Krush, Source Direct, Junkie XL, Solitaire ...Polygon Window? - but its this specific one everyone knows. I just have to say “that movie Blade”, and you instantly hear the acid again. Aww, and here I am, thinking Expansion Union's Playing With Lightning is just as dope.

“But wait!” you say, “what's with all those artists you mentioned above? I have the CD and only a couple of them are in there. It's mostly a bunch of hip-hop!” Right you are, oh man of straw. In fact, only four tracks as featured in the movie made the cut of fifteen here. Save a couple clubbier offerings from Mantronik and Roger Sanchez bridging the gap, everything comes from the lands of gangsta rap.

Though as they are tracks 'inspired by' the movie, it feels more appropriate to call this 'gothic rap'. Lots of raps about Blade, hunting vampires, wars between heaven and hell... pretty cool stuff, with a good mix of stars and unknowns. Gang Starr is here! KRS-One is here (breaking fourth walls, no less)! Mystikal is here (his track was great at showing off the bass of the JVC Kaboom)! P.A. is... wait, Parental Advisory? Oh, wow, they were also on the first rap soundtrack I ever owned. Small world.

Raekwon - Shaolin Vs. Wu-Tang

Ice H2o Records: 2011

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

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

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

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

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

Czarface & MF Doom - Czarface Meets Metal Face

Silver Age: 2018

It wasn't the hip-hop team-up *I* was hoping for, but Deltron can't be everywhere. Still, this probably makes the most sense of any collaboration with Czarface, the comic book inspired creation of Inspectah Deck, Esoteric and 7L. For sure there's been plenty of rappers who've taken cues from comics, but not many adopted it into a lasting persona. One other such dude is MF Doom, a remarkable two-decade feat with seemingly little Marvel/Disney threatening glances over his shoulder. Like, is the mask just different enough that copyright claims haven't buried him these past two decades? MF Doom is also a dude I probably should have digested far more of than I have to this date (re: barely at all). In due time, I'm sure I will; maybe after I've exhausted every and all Wu-Tang explorations.

First off, how are Deck 'n Eso'? Still in that comfortable flow they've been in since Every Hero Needs A Villain? You bet they are, while 7L's production retains the ol' school funkadelic sample-heavy hip-hop flavour I've come to appreciate out of this group. Hell, as 'mumble rap' and its cheap-ass sounds have come to dominate, this stuff remains a wonderful renaissance of when hip-hop was dynamic and vitalic. Whether with twitchy paranoid pianos (Badness Of Madness), street-hustlin' bass boogie (Astral Traveling, Forever People), or grimy soul-sludge (MF Czar, Phantoms), there's plenty here for the old heads and the new heads who like what the old heads like. Methinks that's a demographic that could use a little more of a boost.

As for them rappers then, what are you in for? Czar-Deck is his usual lyrical form, even calling out his detractors for being too lyrical at times (th' fuck kinda' criticism is that? Rebel INS always uses just the right amount of words in his rappity-raps ...kids these days). MF Doom sounds cool, in a rugged, low-key menacing sort of way. Not as lyrical as Deck, but they are rather different MCs, and make for a good contrast against each other. As for how he sounds compared to other projects, I honestly can't say – this is my first extended exposure to MF Doom (gasp!). As for Esoteric, I was worried he might get outshone by Deck and Doom, in that Eso's style is so similar to INS, he'd come off like a spare wheel to Deck and Doom's interplay (plus, y'know, just not as famous as the other too). He holds his own just fine though, and even has some of the funniest lines here, especially if you know your wrestling references (hehe, “stick out like Kurt Angle's temple vein”).

Beyond that, this is just a solid collection of hip-hop. Nods to the 'comic book team-up' aspect is played out in skits as knowing winks, but they never go much beyond that. Which is a little disappointing for yours truly, as I'm still waiting on a proper Czarface narrative album. Who knows though, maybe that Ghostface collab' will finally see the deed done.

Dr. Dre - 2001

Interscope Records: 1999

A Very Important record, this, accomplishing many things all at once (hay, guys, remember all those G-funk rappers!?), forming ripples in the world of hip-hop still in effect. For sure it brought Dr. Dre back to the forefront of rap discourse, a strange achievement when you reflect on what he'd accomplished as a producer throughout the '90s: popularizing G-funk, discovering Snoop Dogg, crafting some of the biggest hits Tupac and Blackstreet put out. Hip-hop is fickle though, eager to flock to the next big hype as established vets start piling on the years. Following the flop that was The Firm, with Southern rap making huge commercial inroads (never mind its quality, No Limit Records was a marketing juggernaut), and you can understand why folks figured a guy who made his name ten years prior would have been regarded as old-hat.

Then along came a white saviour, and suddenly everyone was talking about Dre again. Eminem must have done more than given the good Doctor a new protégé though, as Mr. Young hit the studio again for a new album of his own. Not that he needed to prove he could still drop rhymes as he did with The Chronic, but hey, when you want to emphatically put to rest whether you 'still got it', you go at it with all you got. And he sure done did that, folks still holding out against hope that he'll release a way-overdue follow-up to this album. Man, just let it go already. Dre's got headphones to sell, yo'.

Right, Dre's not much a lyricist, and the truth is 2001: The Nu Chronic doesn't do much to dispel that fact. When he's poppin' off about his past successes, reflecting on changes in the rap game, taking down his doubters (The Watcher, Still D.R.E., What's The Difference, Forgot About Dre), or even offering a heartfelt tribute to his dead brother in The Message, the Doctor easily holds his own among the plethora of guest spots. Half this album goes on about fucking women though, topics far more capably handled by smooth cats like Snoop Dogg and Nate Dogg (and outright douches like Kurupt). Anytime Dre goes on about “fucking bad bitches”, he almost sounds apologetic to his wife in doing so. Sorry, hun, but the boys need their strip club anthems.

Whatever your thoughts on lyrical content, no one denies that 2001: A Chronic Odyssey is all about the beats Dre and Mel-Man crafted here. No matter how tuned out I get hearing about 'guns, blunts, 40s, and bitches', each G-funk cut on here keeps me coming back for more, rhythms packing trunk-rattling punch with twitchy keyboards, plucky strings, and triumphant horns. And with so many of Dre's big rap friends on hand dropping rhymes (Snoop! Em'! X'! Dogg Pound! Devin! Roq! ... Hittman? Who that? And why's he all over this album?), 2001 comes off like a big ol' Westcoast gangsta' party that you're invited to. Yes, even you suburban white kids in middle-America.

Canibus - 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)

Universal Music: 2000

For a very brief window, I was listening to every new hip-hop album that entered my little hinterlandian music shop. I didn't actually buy every new item, oh no; this one though, 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus). I didn't know who Canibus was, but he was dropping bars with an intensity that properly drew me into the artform: battle-rap. Dudes like Del and Deck, firing off fiery metaphors and similes with such complexity and ferocity, few could stand toe-to-toe in the arena. And now here's a guy who's entire deal is doing such a thing, a full album's worth of such bars (and some other nonsense).

Jamaican born, commanding the microphone must have been in Mr. Germaine Williams' blood from the start, making a name for himself throughout the underground freestyle circuit in New York City. It got him noticed by some Very Important Persons in the hip-hop community, including LL Cool J and Wyclef Jean, the latter even producing Canibus' debut album. That... didn't turn out as his fans expected, Wyclef trying to mould Canibus into a commercial star. The album sold well enough, mind you, but heads wanted the real battling 'Bus. Thus for his follow-up 2000 B.C., Canibus throws down as hard as everyone hoped he would.

The album opens with a heavy boom-bap beat while various former bars are stitched together, eventually erupting with a triumphant fanfare as Canibus declares it's The C-Quel. And if that doesn't get you fired up, then the titular cut damn sure well, all apocalyptic choirs as dude doesn't hold back on proclaiming his lyrical greatness (while throwing a couple barbs at Wyclef in the process). The rest of the album pretty much plays out like that, Canibus coming in with a solid Eastcoast beat, going off on how great he is in a myriad of creative ways. Sometimes he brings in other famed lyricists like Rakim, Killah Priest, Rass Kass, and Kurupt, other times he goes off for an unprecedented one-hundred bars (100 Bars). Gander at one of my favourite verses from Doomsday News, for obvious reasons: “If I had half as many bars in gold as I had in lyrics when I flowed; I'd be the richest man on the globe; Niggas wanna know is Canibus gold? That's a stupid-ass question motherfucker, is Canada cold? 'Bout a thousand degrees lower than liquid nitro is.”

I can't say it's all gold, though. Life Liquid has Canibus spitting over-the-top ultra-violence and homophobia to show how 'street hard' he is (Watch Who U Beef Wit's a far better grimdark street cut – message!). A few beef jabs are fine, but Canibus does overplay it with Die Slow and Phuk U. Odd having Pharoahe Monch featuring solo on a pure freestyle in Horsemen. And no matter how creative he does get, hearing Canibus constantly telling you how awesome he is does wear thin by album's end. Beyond those quibbles though, 2000 B.C.'s a dope record for folks who dig rap's true lyrical potential.

Raekwon - The Wild

Empire: 2017

I feel neglectful when it comes to Raekwon. It was his Immobilarity that opened my eyes to all that hip-hop could be in terms of narratives, and both Cuban Linx albums are stone-cold classics in the Wu pantheon. Unfortunately, his other albums don't spark much interest in yours truly. It's not that I doubt his verbal skills on any of his projects, but I've been burned a few too many times on 'mediocre Wu' to scope out everything all these MCs release. Rae's no less immune to the syndrome, a lesson learned with The Lex Diamond Story. Unless he's bringing something dope to the table with production to back it up that gets the knowledgeable heads I trust talking, I give his stuff a pass.

Turns out Mr. Woods has released an album that's gotten knowledgeable heads talking, or at least positively buzzing to such a degree that I haven't seen since Cuban Linx, Pt. 2. While by no means is it being hyped to Cuban Linx levels (because really, the only thing that could generate such talk is a Part 3), I figured it was about time I got myself re-associated with The Chef in The Wild.

And this... this is pretty darn good! Mind, I'd never go into a Raekwon joint expecting something revolutionary, not at this late stage of his career. Just bring me more of those vintage storytelling raps with witty street slang and a slew of solid beats to back them up, and I'm more than sated. Rae' easily delivers on the lyrical front, providing his usual assortment of street tales, reflective raps, and braggadocios boasts about living and maintaining his good life after so many years in the game. I was particularly thrown for a loop on Marvin, a retelling of the life of Gaye with Cee-Lo Green belting out a chorus as only he can. Where did Rae' find the inspiration to rap about that tale of triumph and tragedy? And damn, does producer Frank G ever provide the perfect soul loop for this tune (not to mention his other contribution of Nothing - methinks he gets Rae's vibe quite well indeed).

The soul loops mostly dominate The Wild, which makes sense as Mr. Woods' own flow has taken on something of a mellow, husky soul itself as he's aged. He still finds time to fit in with current trends though, including a twitchy, synth-heavy cut with Lil' Wayne in My Corner (he don't rap much of anything new, but he does sound good rapping it), a gothic tune with synthy choirs and organs in M&N with P.U.R.E. (don't know him), and a slice of trap in You Hear Me to close The Wild out. It's... fine for trap, I guess? Doesn't really fit with the rest of Rae's vibe on this album though, especially as a closer. Don't worry, Shallah, you don't have to jump on every trend with your work. Like, no one remembers that 'crunk' jam off Lex Diamond.

Wu-Tang Clan - Wu-Tang Forever

Loud Records: 1997

The Wu-Tang Clan's sophomore album couldn't help but be a double-LP. I mean, it was already The Thing to do for most rappers of note in the mid-'90s (Tupac, Biggie, Bone Thugs, Master P), but at least it made sense for this dynamic group. Their debut Enter The Wu-Tang was as perfect an album as any dropped in hip-hop's history, and the half-dozen solo records from various members after proved there was no lack of dope material in their ranks. After so much unprecedented success as a rap conglomerate, they absolutely deserved more room to breathe, letting all these MCs have more opportunities to shine on the mic, and celebrate The RZA's five year plan coming to fruition. Concerns about filler and bloat? Oh come on, how could the Wu Empire falter in their moment of triumph, especially after such a glorious lead single in Triumph?

And CD1 doesn't disappoint, almost a strong album experience in of itself. Yeah, the overlong Wu-Revolution opener reeks of pretentious hubris, that the Wu nation is willing to sit through a nearly seven-minute long sermon from Papa Wu. On the other hand, it does set a tone that the Clan is aware of social issues impacting black communities, and that they aren't gonna' just be another bunch of rappers glamorizing gangsta' lifestyles. Cool, but now that you've cleared your conscience, RZA, how about bringing the motha'fuckin' ruckus again? He done does that, Reunited showing off his newfound twitchy-soul production chops, follow-up For Heaven's Sake bringing the ghetto-grime to the fore, As High As Wu-Tang Get a fun bit of bouncy funk, Maria a boozy-woozy fest, and It's Yourz a good ol' stompin' crowd anthem.

And the rest of the Clan bring killer material to CD1 too, some of their all-time greatest lines ever dropped here (GZA: “Too many songs with weak rhymes is mad long; Make it brief, son - half short, twice strong.”). MCs that didn't much get spotlight in 36 Chambers have equal opportunities among the established stars, and a decent range of topics are covered among the ten tracks (lyrical showcases, street tales, conscious slabs, slum love, etc.). The only thing missing from CD1 is a definitive, stone-cold classic cut, but then they had to save something for CD2.

Disc number two starts off strong as well, Triumph the kick-off, followed by Impossible containing what RZA considers “one of the illest verses of all time”, Ghostface Killah vividly narrating the last moments spent with a dying friend on the street. Unfortunately, this is where that anticipated bloat starts to settle in, a run of average, oddball tracks leading to a slog of hip-hop between the islands of right dope shit (harrowing Little Ghetto Boys, ODB's wonderfully unhinged Dog Sh*t, the orchestral punch of Heaterz). Cheekily, the closing ghetto-soul of Second Coming is strictly handled by vocalist Tekitha, with nary a Clan member in sight.

CD2 is essentially a glorified B-side, but as mentioned, Wu-Tang Forever is easily worth the admission price for CD1.

Ice Cube - War & Peace Vol. 2 (The Peace Disc)

Priority Records: 1998

I feel the second volume of Ice Cube's War & Peace duo-album concept was better received than the first, as everyone finally accepted where Mr. Jackson was in his life. Sure, it'd be dope as all Hell if he came out with some fiery social commentary about The State Of The 'Hood, but after so much financial success, was he really the man for the task anymore? By the turn of the century, a lot of elder statesmen of rap were getting well paid, and couldn't realistically keep talking about 'ghetto shit' as a lived experience. Offer insight and commentary, sure, and perhaps provide helpful guidance to the young bucks coming up (but don't y'all think you can dethrone the G.O.A.T.s without a fight, no sir). If you wanted the serious conscious stuff though, there were other acts providing it, and Cube was more interested in maintaining a brand for himself than dropping heavy with the lyrical political.

Thus when he let it be known that The Peace Disc was going to be of a much lighter fare than anything he'd done in the past, folks were at least ready for it. Willing, that's another matter, many old Cube fans all but disowning the product sight-unheard, especially after the dismal reactions to The War Disc. On the other hand, It Was Good Day remained one of Cube's longest, endearing tunes, and he'd shown a somewhat friendlier side in his Friday movies. If anything, the aggro-gangsta posturing of The War Disc came off more disingenuous compared to club-ready singles like We Be Clubbin' and You Can Do It. Considering I heard the latter in even back-water 'clubs' of B.C. hinterland haunts, I'd say he succeeded in providing something fun.

And the bump-n-grind don't stop there, tracks like Can You Bounce? featuring a gnarly bassline, Gotta Be Insanity featuring the vintage P-funk, Waitin' Ta Hate featuring the vintage trunk-thump, and You Ain't Gotta Lie featuring Chris Rock dropping a bunch of hilarious brags. Elsewhere, Cube reunites with Dr. Dre and MC Ren for a little N.W.A. gangsta reflection, while hinting at a possible reunion (which they did do, but with Snoop Dogg filling in for the deceased Eazy-E). He also drops some knowledge on shady label businesses (Record Company Pimpin'), and offers an uplifting outlook for the youth with Krayzie Bone in Until We Rich. Plus a bunch of the usual gangsta crowing and hater grips scattered throughout, but who cares about those.

Frankly, beyond just being completely honest in its intents, what makes The Peace Disc better than The War Disc is the production. Vol. 1 somehow felt cheap and plastic as a lot of late '90s hip-hop does, but in Vol. 2, the beats bounce harder, the hooks land sharper, and the funk flows freer. Even the guest spots are of higher calibre (because who really gave a shit about Mr. Short Khop?). As a trifle hour of escapism then, War & Peace Vol. 2 succeeds, but that's all.

Ice Cube - War & Peace Vol. 1 (The War Disc)

Priority Records: 1998

The first Ice Cube record many white metal fans bought, because they sure as Hell didn't know any better. Check it though, that scowling rapper guy, he's on the Family Values Tour, performing with nu-metal bands like Korn, Limp Bizkit, Orgy, and weird, angry Germans. They might have even recalled him from other stuff, like movies (Friday, Anaconda, that one about black youths in South Central), and something called Westside Connection where he sampled a Nine Inch Nails song. After pairing up with Korn though, folks well outside Ice-C's traditional scene were finally taking notice of his music output. And a good thing too, because by this point, many in hip-hop circles were writing Cube off as having lost the socially-conscious spitfire of his early work in lieu of lucrative movies and rock tours. War & Peace Vol. 1 all but cemented such notions.

Westside Connection did keep some embers glowing, proving Cube could still throw down lyrical beatdowns with the best of them. However, Common released a crushing dis' in The Bitch In Yoo, plus The Nation Of Islam forced various hip-hop groups to a peace summit so no more senseless deaths would arise from their beefs. It clearly sawed Cube's teeth off, changing focus to take on 'made-man' rap as the Don Mega. He's the king of his West Coast Mountain, yo', running these clubs and gangsta concerns, and like Hell he's gonna' relinquish that throne without a fight. Fine and all, such topics inspiring many rappers to be the best at their game. Trouble is, fewer hip-hop heads were buying it, seeing less of the 'hood narrator Ice Cube, and more O'Shea Jackson, business man and Hollywood actor. 'Don Mega' was just another mogul character, one that was quite played out by '98 in the hip-hop world (see: Puff Daddy, Master P, etc.), and definitely not one fans of older Cube cared to turn to for some social commentary. But hey, it's fun headbanging to crunchy guitars in Fuck Dying, amirite?

Another problem stems from production. There's the aforementioned rock-fusion, including Limos, Demos & Bimbos riffing on The Police's Behind My Camel I think (because sampling 'Sting' was cool). Much of The War Disc consists of Southern rap producers though, including N.O. Joe, E-A-Ski (notable for his work on early No Limit Records – Master P even cameos), and Bud'da, plus Cube on a few cuts himself. It's all got high-grade studio polish, but aside from a couple riffs and basslines, sounds like generic gangsta funk to my ears.

That all said, Cube does remain charismatic throughout, even when rapping about cliche topics. And when he does unleash some captivating narratives, such as the reflective Ghetto Vet, or nuttiness of Once Upon A Time In The Projects 2, it shows he could still tangle with hip-hop's best. Just a shame he so often settled for mediocrity here – good enough for all those metal kids checking him out for the first time, though.

Wu-Tang Clan - The W

Loud Records: 2000

The first proper Wu-Tang Clan album I bought for myself, and not a bad one at that, but I can already hear the “tut-tut”ing from long time disciples. Why not get Enter 36 Chambers first, as you're supposed to do even if you're not a fan or the Wu-Tang Clan? Well, as the first Wu record I ever bought was The RZA Hits, it felt redundant springing for another record that had nearly half the same tracks on it (I was stupid for thinking that). Second, The W came out the following year I fell sway to the charms of hip-hop, so it was only logical I scoped that shit out post-haste, my honeymoon glow still preventing any sense of critical consideration.

The W has gone on to be one of the Clan's most difficult albums to talk about, in that it seems everyone has utterly conflicting feelings about it. They love that it's pared down to an easily digestible hour-long effort, yet surely the group had more to offer than just this? It's nifty hearing guest spots from other prominent rappers, but aren't they taking the limelight away from all the talent already within the group itself? All Clan members sound matured, sharp and on point, with even some of the weaker members finally coming into their own as lyricists, but have lost that spitting Hell-fire of their debut in the process. How great it is to hear the Wu over RZA beats for a full album (save a lone Mathematics cut), but only around half the tracks are actually memorable. Let's detail couple now!

Chamber Music: urgent strings with crackly samples. Careful (Click, Click): herky-jerky, sample-snapping, creepy woodwinds; definitely feels like you're in a claustrophobic gun-toting, warzone. Protect Ya Neck (The Jump Off): bouncy, loopy, with a great key-change mid-track, ruined by a lame U-God brag verse. Gravel Pit: even bouncier, a track totally aimed for the club, but at least RZA freely admits its intents, so it's a lot of fun (looks like they had fun playing cavemen in the video too).

Then there are weaker cuts, like the endlessly looping soul sample from Hollow Bones, and the plodding *thump-thump clap-clap* of One Blood Under W with Junior Reed. Ah well, the famed dancehall toaster gets a better track to close the album out on with the mournful Jah World. Speaking of guests, Snoop Dogg inexplicably appears with ODB in Conditioner with a bog-standard 'pimpz & hoes' verse. Okay, that's not accurate, the Dirt Dawg recording through a jail phone booth, hence the low-grade quality. I guess RZA realized there wasn't enough material there for a track, but Year 2000 Snoop's the last person up to the task of pinch-hitting for the Wu.

Okay, enough gripes. I do enjoy more than dislike stuff on The W, even if it comes off like much of the Clan's best material was now behind them. Then again, some of Method Man's lyrics in hidden track Clap have forever stuck with me. I don't know why.