Live - Throwing Copper

Radioactive: 1994

One of the only ‘90s alternative rock albums you ever bought in the ‘90s, even if you weren’t the sort to buy alternative rock albums in the ‘90s. You certainly remember Live (pronounced “it’s alive”) from radio play and music video rotation, but do you really replay their music much? Be honest now. No wonder the band’s earned the running gag of one of the biggest acts of that decade that no one remembers.

As a refresher, they flitted through the realms of grunge, college rock, and even a bit of country, not quite getting pigeon-holed into any specific scene, yet always welcome on the appropriate FM stations. The I Alone vid’ is practically a what’s-what of ‘90s alt-rock standards: a desolate stage shoot with requisite grunge tree, shirtless shaved member, a long-haired scruffy Reality Bites member, a short-haired scruffy Clerks member, creepy animals. Live is about the most ‘90s rock band any ‘90s rock fan will tell you existed, despite the group maintaining a decent career well into the ‘00s, even releasing a new album eighteen months ago. It, erm, didn’t sell even a touch as well as Throwing Copper.

But then few albums did in the ‘90s, Live’s sophomore effort one of the best selling LPs of the decade. This, despite the fact it only hit the top of the charts in a handful of countries, and only scored a couple number one hits out of five singles released (Selling The Drama and Lightning Crashes earning those honors). Throwing Copper was the epitome of a slow burner though, an album from a band no one knew much about, but through consistent airplay and word-of-mouth buzz positive momentum t’was built. It got folks to those record CD shops, buying Throwing Copper for themselves, as a gift for their friends, and a second copy after wrecking their first while tossing it into their glove compartment (probably). The result is a eight-million selling record.

And unlike some other mega-selling ‘90s albums, most folks aren’t so embarrassed at having bought this. Live are a solid rock band, no doubt, capably going from soft and melodic to loud and aggressive as needed. Ed Kowalczyk makes for a good, relatable frontman, telling tales of people on the struggling side of life without ever sounding condescending or ultra-angsty. Live find an agreeable middle-ground, Throwing Copper as engaging a listen as it is a nice casual throw-on; a slightly heavier Tragically Hip, is the vibe I’m getting at.

Yet for as good a rock album this is, you don’t see much in the way of retrospectives for it. Its 20th Anniversary passed by with but a token vinyl reissue, a feat even a middling rock release gets these days. More damning though is its Wiki page, the barest of write-ups offered. Nothing regarding the album's conception, recording process, interviews with band members… this, for a top selling album of the ‘90s. Amazing how something once so popular can so easily turn into an afterthought.

Tiger & Woods - Through The Green

Running Back: 2011

Was that ‘disco edit’ fad ever a short one, eh? Seemed in 2011, it was all anyone talked about in the cool branches of house music. And for good reason, the sound a welcome revisit to the funky, class sounds that built house into the house it became. After years of minimal-tech monotony and abrasive electro-slop, any return to fundamentals would be celebrated, which disco edits provided with unabashed pluck and gusto. Cool is often fleeting though, especially when centered on such a singular trick that can be rendered cliché by bandwagon copycats. It also didn’t help the micro-genre that Tiger & Woods, the very tastemakers themselves, cultivated a code of semi-seclusion, retreating from the hype train whenever they could. And a good thing they did too, capably maintaining a career as the popularity of disco edits waned in favor of the next, hot big nothing (swing house?).

It’s been half a decade since Tiger & Woods made their mark, and they’ve remarkably kept their anonymity since, continuing to use the aliases of Larry Tiger and David Woods in the scant interviews they’ve done. Fortunately, I know of a Lord That Knows All, and The Discogian One provides some clues. Not so much David Woods, or ‘Valerio Delphi’ as one alias alludes to - there’s scant material to this name in the massive database. Mr. Larry Tiger though, now here’s some interesting dirt.

Links to this name include a number of techno records as Analog Fingerprints, some ancient bangin’ acid as M. Chrome, and a respectable pile of albums and singles as Marco Passarani, which include stabs at electro, IDM, house… a varied palette, this man. While the link could just be a coincidental name-tag error within Lord Discog’s archives (it happens!), considering ‘Marco Passarani’ output suspiciously dries up right after ‘Larry Tiger’ appears, odds are pretty good we’re dealing with the same guy. A recent solo album on the same label as this one (Running Back) kinda’ seals the deal. Plus, y’know, Tiger & Woods being confirmed Italians and all.

ANYHOW, this album. The concept here couldn’t be simpler: take some disco samples, loop them a bunch, and tweak them as though they’re your own original bars in Ableton. It’s a trick that can be horribly misused and abused, but Tiger & Woods display a crafty sense of how a solid track should develop. Teasing out the builds so they never overstay they welcome, letting a vocal hook sink in without growing redundant, never falling prey to the ever-tempting effects overload. Admittedly a lot of this sounds like French house without the filters, and Through The Green does get repetitive by album’s end. Most of these tracks were out as singles prior anyway, this LP basically a formality in cashing in on their popularity. As Tiger & Woods have shown more activity this past year though, with luck we’ll see some evolution in their sound now that the fad is long past.

Michael Jackson - Thriller

Epic: 1982/2001

The only album you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not a music fan. Considering Thriller remains the top selling record ever, such a statement isn’t hyperbolic in the slightest. Chances are good you either have Thriller, know someone who has Thriller, or have heard no less than half this album in your lifetime. Yes, even you toddlers incapable of reading this. And if you’re one of those sacks that deliberately avoided Thriller because… reasons, you’ve most definitely seen or heard the covers, the parodies, the memes, or the paraphernalia that spun off from here. Michael Jackson’s opus reintroduced a generation to the concept of an album as an event, one many future pop stars continue replicating to this date with varying degrees of success.

Quincy Jones remains humble in interviews regarding Thriller’s success, the producer often stating he and Jackson were only out to make the best album that they could, not a cultural touchstone that would shape the ‘80s. C’mon, Q’, you had to know you were on some next level shit with this record. You don’t spend an inordinate amount of time and money knocking out the same ol’ R&B tunes everyone else was peddling. You go and get yourself all the best equipment and resources you have available, cross-blending and genre fusing all the fashionable black music of the time while mixing in cutting-edge studio tricks and sounds.

Classic contributions like full horn and string sections, backing soul singers, and funky-ass guitar licks. Modern technology in the form of synthesizers, drum sequencers, and vocal modulators. Obscurities like Afro-funk (Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’), emulation of outlandish instruments (theremin in Thriller, Blaster Beam in Beat It), and guest spots like Eddie Van Halen in Beat It, Vincent Price in Thriller, and Paul McCartney in The Girl Is Mine. Seriously, one does not get themselves a Beatle without expecting a significant hit on your hands.

Even without the Holy Trinity of Michael Jackson singles, Thriller would be remembered as one of the greatest R&B records of the ‘80s, perhaps ever. Along with the Soul Makossa inspired chant, Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’ is a great slice of disco funk. Though not released as a single, Baby Be Mine’s got some serious boogie going for it. The Girl Is Mine is pure R&B sap, but delightfully charming (Shyamalan Twist: fed up with Michael and Paul’s bickering, the girl takes off with E.T.). Airy ballad Human Nature did solid chart numbers, P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing) gets in on that P-funk vibe, and The Lady In My Life is a fine enough R&B standard to close out on.

But yes, we all know why you’re here. The best bassline of the ‘80s in Billie Jean. The best guitar riff of the ‘80s in Beat It. The best video of the ‘80s in Thriller. These pushed the album from ‘damned good’ into iconic status. Not bad for a genre that seldom got a whiff of recognition from gatekeepers of the old music industry.

Various - Three A.D. (Volume Three Ambient Dub)

Waveform Records: 1996

The end of an era, this compilation. Okay, ‘era’ is much too weighty a word in describing ambient dub’s time. It had a significant run in the chill-out scene, got some respectable write-ups in magazines, then quietly receded as fresher downtempo vibes and producers made their mark. Half a decade of prominence is no mean feat that those folks from Beyond Records should feel proud for. Waveform Records too, especially in reinventing themselves the years following this CD. The folks from Arizona would eventually find their way back to the dubby ambient, but as it stood, Three A.D. was their final say on the sound they built their print on. I mean, it’s not like they had much choice in the matter, what with Beyond folding the same year. Gotta’ start branching into other fields, other genres, other artists… maybe other labels to import gobs of material from.

Waveform wasn’t quite yet beyond their Beyond association, Three A.D. cribbing over half its track list from the big brother’s final compilation, Ambient Dub Volume 4 (Jellyfish). These include the spaced-out ambient techno of Spacetime Continuum’s Oracle, the jazzy dub of Another Fine Day’s In 7, the ultra-ill trip-hop of Coldcut’s Sign, the soft ethnic chill groove of Insanity Sect’s Solar Prophet, and the meditative bliss of The Starseeds’ Regina From The Future. Series mainstays Higher Intelligence Agency, Sounds From The Ground, and A Positive Life naturally show up, though why APL’s Lighten Up! was picked for this compilation, I haven’t the foggiest: it’s not all that ambient, and quite the beast on your bassbins. Skank and Drawn To The Woman are HIA and SFtG’s contributions, tracks I already have elsewhere but nice hearing again.

The lone exclusive act to Three A.D. is Real Life, a short-lived group headed by Paul Castle, with Lee Rosemore and Matt Hazelden contributing. They released a few records on Ninja Tune’s offshoot, NTone, from which their track Shark Infested comes from. I'm reminded of older Future Sound Of London, what with lengthy atmospheric builds and bleep-tronics, plus is a cool tune opening this CD on. Oh, and in case the name Paul Castle rings a bell, it’s because he’d go on to do production for Ian van Dahl, Dreamcatcher, and Marc Almond. *sigh* Another promising talent lured away by the big money lifestyle.

As a swansong for the series, Waveform tried something different with Three A.D., a light theme of future travels into abstract realms. It explains the heavier emphasis on bleep-ambient acts in the first half of the compilation, settling into more grounded vibes on the other end. Also, the art is inspired by the experimental works of Swiss scientist Hans Jenny, who used sound vibrations on various fluids and liquid pastes. His work led to future psychedelic artwork and imagery, much of which is found in ‘90s CGI. Though in the case of all the globular redforms on this CD, methinks the folks at Waveform were watching themselves some ample amounts of Babylon 5.

ACE TRACKS: March 2016

It feels so strange only doing this once a month now. Like, such a significant gap of alternate content on this blog, no longer breaking up the monotony of just reviews over and over again. Might have to come up with some other thing, but with the insane backlog I’m accumulating at present, I kinda’ want to keep trudging through first. At least finish off the last of these massive letters before venturing onto other ideas.

Speaking of, the first half of ‘T’ is almost finished, which means that big bundle of used CDs from another will finally be tackled. Including the music I was already gathering myself, we’re looking at a pile of nearly fifty releases. That’s a significant chunk of time this electronic music blog that’s gonna’ be spent talking about rock, folk, alternative rock, metal, dark ambient, pop, punk rock, and maybe a little techno too. I won’t blame if some check out until June, but surely few of y’all are just anxious to read my thoughts on bands like The White Stripes, The Cranberries, The Clash, and The U2s. Meanwhile, here’s the ACE TRACKS for this past month of March:


Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Moodymann - Technologystolemyvinyle
Skin To Skin - Temenos
And, technically, a lot of cruddy compilations, but most of their tracks are on Spotify anyway.

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 25%
Percentage Of Rock: 4%
Most “WTF?” Track: Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry - Crazy House (how could it not?)

Hey, diversity! Boy, it sure was nice to compile a playlist with more variety compared to the previous couple months. Not that I’m treading that far from my go-to fav’ genres like downtempo dub (Sounds From The Ground, Mick Chillage), ambient techno (Si Matthews, The Black Dog), trance-pants (Stephen J. Kroos, Legend B), and quirky outliers (Autistici, DJ Hell). But with house, funk, g-funk, Detroit techno, EBM, synthwave, and alternative metal all getting a look in, March turned out a decent, interesting month’s worth of music.

But just wait for what April has in store…!

Various - This Is... Techno

Beechwood Music: 1996

Before they became notorious peddlers of dodgy electronic music compilations, Beechwood Music was known as peddlers of respectable indie music compilations. Meanwhile, their sub-label Mastercuts was a haven for those scouring the funk and soul archives in search of rare groove, classic jazz, and other vintage rhythm records trainspotters obsess over. Even their early forays into house and techno were respectable offerings, the minds behind the CDs clearly as involved in the UK’s acid house years as any regular punter. For all intents this was a class print on the independent market before they started getting their fingers deep into the cheap, bilge churn.

This Is… Techno came out in the mid-‘90s, as Beechwood was transitioning from ‘what was’ to ‘is now’, and already out the gate you see the problems surfacing. The cover art is astoundingly tacky, assaulting your retinas with ugly typeface, including an inexplicable italicized boldface in the back-half of a four letter word. I just… why? But never judge a record by its cover art, right? All that matters is the music within, and the tracklist does feature plenty bona-fide classics, with a whole slew of problems saddled alongside.

The first three tracks are as pointed as any in this case: Prodigy’s Poison, Josh Wink’s Higher State Of Consciousness, and Carl Cox’s Two Paintings & A Drum. Something sounds… off, in Poison, as though I’m listening to a rougher master rather than the smashing album cut. Higher State, meanwhile, makes no mention of it being Version 1, a mix closer in vibe to deep house than the famous tweekin’ acid funk of Version 3, for which I’m certain ninety-five percent of folks buying this would have expected. And don’t worry, trainspotter in the back anxiously waving at me, I know full well Carl Cox never released a track called Two Paintings & A Drum, though the EP of the same title did hold his Phoebus Apollo. Which is the track we get here, in a severely edited form. Dammit, Beechwood.

Those are the most erroneous examples though. Mostly we get a lot of well rinsed-out anthems you should know off by heart (Plastikman’s Spastik, LFO’s LFO, Moby’s Go, Leftfield’s Open Up, The Orb’s Little Fluffy Clouds, Aphex Twin’s Digeridoo, Underworld’s Dark & Long, Carl Craig’s Dreamland, and others). Not a terrible selection of tunes, but hardly an adventurous assortment either. If you’ve even but dabbled in electronic music, you’ve likely got a few somewhere in your collection, with little reason to get this as well. True, most Beechwood compilations were designed with the impulse buyer in mind, giving them an easy starting point should they wish venturing further. This Is… Techno works in that regard, even if the information provided is sometimes grossly inaccurate.

And those infamous in-house ‘exclusives’ Beechwood was notorious for? Yeah, there’s a drab few scattered about, most of which are repurposed for the bonus mini-mix on CD3. In that context, they… actually do a good job representing techno’s rhythmic potential? Huh, go figure.

Various - This Beat Is Hot... The Compilation

Sony Music Entertainment: 1991

Not the first and most definitely not the last time a hit single was used for the launch of a compilation. Did Dance Pool have any long-term plan with this? Like, could This Beat Is Hot go on to become a running series? Would every subsequent B.G. hit earn its own compilation? Damn, we could have had a Colour Of My Dreams series, a Can We Get Enough? series, and a Stomp series! That didn’t happened, but it still boggles my mind that The Prince Of Rap’s This Beat Is Hot was hot enough to earn a compilation based on it. I don’t recall the track having any presence here in Canada, and believe me we weren’t oblivious to charting dance hits from Europe in the early ‘90s (C&C Music Factory, Black Box, Snap!, 2 Unlimited).

But a compilation named after his breakout single B.G. The Prince Of Rap done did get, marketed across both continents for maximum profit margins. This entailed giving both America and Canada different track lists compared to the European version. Like, radically different, to the point they’re almost completely seperate CDs. Hell, even the title track, This Beat Is Hot, has different mixes between the two, us folks in the Western Hemisphere treated to an extended Get Into The Rhythm Club Mix over the radio friendly 7” Remix on the east side of the Atlantic. Oh, and the track actually properly kicks our compilation off, whereas poor B.G. is relegated to third-track status in Europe. On the compilation named after his hit single!

C&C Music Factory’s Here We Go got the pole position in Europe, but we didn’t get that track at all over here, nor second track Let’s Go Back from Sake Stars, middle track Fue Amor from Jazzy Mel & Marcello Figueras, and final four tracks Shine On from Sold Out, What Is This Thing Called Love? from Alexander O’Neal, Bright Lights from Victoria Wilson-James, and Daddy’s Little Girl from Nikki D. Both versions do get a Culture Beat tune, but us folks are treated to I Like You versus them folks enjoying No Deeper Meaning.

I won’t get into the additional differences between the American and Canadian versions, though we do share Lil’ Louis’ French Kiss, Secchi’s I Say Yeah, and Double Dee’s Found Love. Exclusives to Canuckistan residents include world beaty Shamen’s Call from Dance 2 Trance side-project Peyote, Dana Dawson’s Tell Me Bonita, and Céline Dion’s Unison, a horrendous stab at penetrating the lucrative gay house scene any vocal diva worth her salt was shooting for. Seriously, those… snares, utter rubbish, and hearing a rap alongside Ms. Dion clashes in all the cringiest ways.

Oh yeah, the music! Lots of hip-house in its last throes before morphing into euro-house, some italo-house, and ample soul singin’ with funky grooves. This Beat Is Hot is a fun little CD for some throwback music, but if few of the tunes I named above ring a bell, it’s for good reason, that.

A Perfect Circle - Thirteenth Step

Virgin: 2003

Remember two years ago (!) when I reviewed Tool’s Ænima, wherein I also mentioned checking out the spin-off band A Perfect Circle? It was all that hype, see, Virgin’s marketing muscle promising a stellar new alternative band, one that would change the landscape of rock’s domain for years to come. Yeah, whatever, I’m busy digging into all that Wu-Tang Clan backlog, y’know, not to mention my continued quest in gathering whatever electronic music I could to my music shop of the hinterwaylands near Haida Gwaii. Still, that cover of Mer De Noms looked cool, sitting there in stacks of six, awaiting pick-ups from eager CD buyers. Some of our clientele had clued me into neat acts before, which I’d have missed otherwise. Maybe this one, what with that Chris Carter’s Millennium style artwork going for it, will have something intriguing within. After playing a few songs though, I shrugged with an indifferent ‘meh’, then went about replaying a nifty DJ mix from some Turbo label.

The media blitz for the follow-up Thirteenth Step aside, I pretty much forgot about A Perfect Circle, the band’s music falling well outside my listening habits. Over time though, I’ve made friends with those who do include alternative rock music into their daily diets. Friends who’ve eagerly quaffed from Tool and Perfect Circle goblets. Friends who were looking to offload CDs, of which I eagerly quaffed from their collections into mine. Thus here I am reviewing more music from Maynard James Keenan, a proposition I never thought happening again.

Actually, to call A Perfect Circle a Keenan project isn’t accurate in the slightest. He may provide the bulk of lyrics and pipes to support them, but the genesis behind the band lies with Billy Howerdel, who’d spent his time prior mostly tuning guitars for Tool. Billy’s demos impressed Keenan so much that he requested being the new band’s frontman, with a who’s-who of ‘90s rock musicians rotating in and out since Perfect Circle’s formation (James Iha, Twiggy Ramirez, Troy van Leeuwen, Josh Freese, and others). Man, no wonder Thirteenth Step reminds me so much of a ‘90s album, especially for a 2003 release, when garage rock, emo-punk, post-grunge, and nu-metal were ruling the world of rock.

And I cannot deny, this is a darn good album. Melodic and melancholic for the most part, sporadically heavy and urgent as needed, with Keenan’s singing quite enjoyable so removed from pretentious Tool trappings. Thirteenth Step essentially chronicles the crippling effects of addiction, from its enticing allure to the crushing fall, with a small hope of recovery at the end. Though a few tracks stand out on their own, it’s an album that works best as a long-play, especially with the lingering bit of guitar hanging in the air at the end of final track Gravity. It feels like there’s more to follow, maybe even a secret song. And you wait for that release… waiting… waiting… For a proper follow-up album that never materialized. So cruel, this longing…

Adrian Younge Presents Souls Of Mischief - There Is Only Now

Linear Labs: 2014

Adrian Younge probably would have broke out of contemporary funk-n-soul obscurity eventually, a talent behind the producer’s console as much with nearly instrument he takes within his hands. When he teamed up with Ghostface Killah to produce one of the Wu-Tang man’s best albums in a decade, it was all but guaranteed he’d have the plumb choice of working with any number of top list rappers out there. Thus it was a surprising move on ol’ Adrian’s part that his next project was with backpacker favorites Souls Of Mischief. That Mr. Younge would be a fan of the Hieroglyphics crew makes sense given the musician’s background, but to convince A-Plus, Opio, Tajai, and Phesto into the booth for a throwback album of sorts? Now that’s some earned industry clout, mang.

Not that Souls Of Mischief had fallen off, disbanded, or anything like that, but as each member focused on their solo careers following the turn of the century, few figured they’d find reason to reconvene. Even 2009’s Montezuma’s Revenge didn’t hint at much future collaborative work between the foursome, and it looked to remain as such until Adrian approached them with his wishes and dreams of a vintage Souls Of Mischief LP.

But what, pray tell, is a ‘vintage SoM’ record? Anything that recaptures the spirit of their debut, 93 ‘Til Infinity, is my guess. The clever lyrical wordplay, the brash actions of youthful bravado, the vivid depictions of street stories, all presented with a Bay Area sense of laid-back, free-stylin’ vibe. In the case of There Is Only Now, these facets are presented in the form of a singular narrative – yes, even the ‘brash youthfulness’, despite all these MCs having aged two decades since 93 ‘Til Infinity. It helps the events of this album are loosely based on a real-life event, specifically being present during a shooting. Though they weren’t actually involved with the incident, Souls use it as a catalyst to weave a tale as though they were, with Tajai even being ‘taken out and captured’ by a perpetrator named Wormack, a part played by Busta Rhymes, of all MCs.

Much of this album chronicles the Mischievous Souls’ worries for their fallen comrade, concerns of the state of their neighborhood that such a thing could happen, reflection whether retribution is justified in this case, and their measures to seek their own brand of vigilantism. Remarkably, a guest spot that drops in for some sage advice is Snoop Dogg, coming off like a wise elder of this scenario despite him and Souls having little age difference between them. I won’t spoil the ending, but it does leave a bit open ended, letting the listener come to their own moralistic conclusion.

Throughout it all, Adrian Younge provides a musical backdrop befitting of a classic blaxploitation picture, and should you ever get lost with the plot, a radio DJ occasionally drops in as an ongoing narrator. Huh, I’m getting DJ Professor K of Jet Set Radio flashbacks. I’m sure Souls approve.

Kurupt - Tha Streetz Iz A Mutha

Attic: 1999

For all the time Kurupt’s spent in the Westcoast hip-hop scene, he’s never quite crossed over on his own as so many of his peers did. Pairing with Daz Dillinger as Tha Dogg Pound certainly was successful, and he’s made many memorable appearances on albums with Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg, 2Pac… basically anyone on Death Row Records during the label’s glory years. By the time he ventured out as solo artist though, the Death Row empire was crumbling, no longer a sure thing in an evolving hip-hop scene (much less a safe working environment). So off Kurupt went, establishing his own Antra Records print, and dropping nothing less than a double-LP as a debut. Um, oversell much?

Right, every rapper was doing the 2CD deed in the ‘90s, but usually with some established market, and Kurupt’s rep was as an ace wingman, not an MC who could carry two discs worth of material. The fact Kuruption! did end up as strained, thinned, and disappointing as it did surprised no one. It also unfortunately made interest in the quick follow-up Tha Streetz Iz A Mutha fly way under the radar, folks figuring Kurupt just wouldn’t have much luck in the solo scene. Turns out everyone who thought as such were dead wrong, Young Gotti bringing the fire here for a record that became a true underground hit.

From the quality of the beats, to the quality of guest spots, to the quality of… well, everything, Tha Streetz Iz A Mutha is some top grade Westcoast rap. Snoop Dogg makes multiple appearances, along with Nate Dogg, Xzibit, Soopafly, Daz Dillinger (naturally), and a plethora of associated homeboys you probably never heard of (nor care to know). And just in case you forgot his Eastcoast roots, Kurupt has a wicked boom-bap session with KRS-One in the bonus cut Live On The Mic. Boom-bap, on a g-funk rap album!

The beat flavors don’t just end with an outlier or two, this album offering a bumpin’ mix of styles. There’s way old-school rap with Loose Cannons, block party bounce (Who Ride Wit Us, Represent Dat G.C., Girls All Pause), orchestral looping (Trylogy), smooth g-funk groove (It Ain’t About You, Neva Gonna Give It Up, Ho’s A Housewife), and more. Even when the lyrical content goes more misogynistic than I’m comfortable hearing, I can’t help but keep bobbin’ to that funky-ass Moog action (Your Gyrl Friend). Throughout it all, Kurupt is fired and inspired, out to prove he stands tall in gangsta’ rap. He definitely done did that here.

While Dr. Dre’s 2001: Chronic Harder would overshadow the hip-hop world at this time, Tha Streetz Iz A Mutha comes off like an opening volley from the Westcoast – lighting up from nowhere, reminding everyone how united everyone still was despite their label wanderings. It may not have been Kurupt’s intent to make a statement for his geographical brethren on this album, but he nonetheless released one of the best Westcoast LPs of the late ‘90s.