If you read this blog regularly, you already know how I feel about King Tee. But if you’re here for the first time, I’ll tell you that he’s quickly becoming one of my favorite underappreciated emcees. At least five years ago, I found a used CD copy of the Compton emcee’s fourth album, fittingly titled, IV Life. I was so impressed by the album that it sent me on a mission to find physical copies of the rest of his catalog (again, to those new to this blog, I’m a collector of CDs and vinyl). A few years later I was able to track down copies of his debut, Act A Fool, and his third release, The Triflin’ Album. Maybe a year after that, while sifting through the used CD bins at Cheapos, I found a copy of his sophomore effort, At Your Own Risk.

Like the other three King Tee albums mentioned above, At Your Own Risk would feature a classic car on the album cover. This time around, KT rides shotgun in a clean light green drop top ’64 Impala, as he and the crew go for a ride through the streets of South Central Los Angeles on what appears to be a peaceful and lovely day. Like Act A Fool, DJ Pooh would be responsible for sonically sculpting the majority of AYOR. The album spawned four singles and would peak at 175 on the US Billboard Top 200. Needless to say, no plaques were handed out for its sales numbers.

This is my first time listening to the album since I bought it. Feel free to listen to the album as you read along. But remember…it’s at your own risk.

Introduction – King Tee kicks off the album with a scarce bi-polar backdrop, as he cordially welcomes the listener to the album, gives a bunch of shoutouts, and sends a playful death threat to those who didn’t purchase the album (I’m not sure how they would get the message, but, whatever).

At Your Own Risk – The title track finds our host flossin’ and talkin’ his shit as he takes claim at being “the champ, smashing all contenders.” King Tee does a solid job, lyrically, and the live jazz piano play, courtesy of The Piano Man (not to be confused with Stan the Guitar Man), helps liven up an otherwise bland instrumental. The “Buddha Mix” on The Triflin’ Album was much more entertaining.

Ruff Rhyme (Back Again) – Pooh builds this funky backdrop with his “hypso-change-o-calypso-beat-o-matic (not to be confused with Doc Brown’s flux capacitor). Tee uses the “masculine beat” to celebrate his return from his short-lived hiatus and joins the exclusive club of “rare word” rappers when he breaks out “impresario.” Teela’s rhyme was rough, but Pooh’s instrumental was rougher.

On The Dance Tip – Thanks to Teddy Riley, the New Jack Swing musical styling (which was an up-tempo synth-heavy driven sound) was very popular in Black music in the late eighties and early nineties. It was generally considered an R&B sound, but rappers would also tap into it if they were trying to diversify their fanbase or score a pop hit. King Tee was definitely fishing for crossover success with this one. Bronick Wrobleski and J.R. Coes (with a co-credit going to DJ Pooh) are responsible for this New Jack Swing-adjace track that our host hi-lariously refers to as a “Rhythm & Blues tune.” Over the song’s three verses, King Tee gives a dance tutorial to those with two left feet and invites anyone within earshot to “Dance all night/‘til your kneecaps break/do the Biz Markie, even the Heavy D shake.” This was very formulaic, but I still mildly enjoyed the record’s contrived vibes.

Jay Fay Dray – Pooh loops up Grover Washington Jr.’s “Hydra” for Tee to get off a silly verse about a drug dealer named Jay, a crackhead named Dray, a chick named Fay (who apparently is down to give you head if you ask politely), and some other randomness. Moving on…

Skanless – Don’t leave your girl around King Tee. Or your mom, sister, auntie, or daughter for that matter. Our host uses this one to brag about his nefarious ways over an infectious bluesy backdrop that will keep your face scrunched up while you simultaneously shake your head in disbelief at King Tee’s triflin’ deeds.

Take You Home – Teela talks more shit over a dark and airy Pooh/ J.R. Coes concoction that goes down smoother than a glass of Grey Goose chased with pineapple juice (bars!).

Diss You – The good times between Tee and his love interest have turned sour, leaving our host with the inclination to diss her before he kicks her to the curb. He wrote a song about it. You wanna hear it? Hear it go. I wasn’t too impressed with KT’s storyline, but the southern-fried soulful instrumental laid underneath his rhymes sounds amazing.

Time To Get Out – Throughout his career, most of King Tee’s rhymes have been filled with lighthearted boast and clowning, but every now and then, he gets into his conscious bag, like this one. Over a slightly zany backdrop with a thick drunken bassline, King Tee calls for an end to gang violence, while an uncredited male sings the hook: “You got the Blood gang shootin’ up churches and shit/L.A. and Compton don’t mix, so its Crips fightin’ Crips/back in the days it was whites against coloreds/now you got brothers just killing each other/and drive-by shooting’s like a sport for you now/but when you shoot for your victim with him you hit a child.” Tee does a solid job of getting his point across without sounding self-righteous or cheesy, and I enjoyed the backing music.

Can This Be Real (Remix) – Super mid. Hopefully the O.G. mix was more entertaining.

E Get Swift – King Tee dedicates this one to one-third of Tha Alkaholiks and his deejay, E-Swift. Pooh lays a very manilla backdrop for King to rap praises to E. And King, being the gracious host that he is, leaves room for E-Swift to get off a quick verse and display some of his scratching techniques. No need to listen to this more than once.

Do Your Thing – DJ Pooh serves up an up-tempo soulful bop for this short intermission break (complete with the crooning vocals that sound like Otis Redding (or maybe Syl Johnson?) scratched into the record), while an anonymous male has nothing but flattering words to shower our host with.

King Tee Production – King Tee playfully boasts and belittles his competition over a cool jazz mash up that takes you on a handful of enjoyable musical trips along the way (the sample of the jazzy guitar take of The Jackson 5’s “I Wanna Be Where You Are” was my favorite). DJ Pooh cleverly places a few J.J. Evans vocal snippets throughout the track, making him serve as the tour guide through this entertainingly zany two-and-a-half-minute ride.

Played Like A Piano – Tee saves the best for last. Pooh builds this dark groove around a few loops from Grover Washington Jr.’s “Knucklehead” (the same record sampled for K-Solo’s underrated banger, “Fugitive”) and invites Ice Cube and Breeze from L.A. Posse to join him on this album closing cipher session. Cube’s presence must have sparked the gangsta in Tee, as his bars sound more hard and violent than the rest of his content thus far this evening (“I’m just anxious to whoop some ass/I went to high school, but I flunked every class/So what makes you think I give a fuck about respect?/I’ll put your bitch in check, and I bet you won’t run up/ son of a punk and a bitch too/I should of did a drive-by on you and your crew”). Speaking of Ice Cube, he easily delivers the strongest verse, spewing gangsta raps with his stern poker face voice and delivery (King Tee’s adlib: “Ice Cube, I heard you was singing now,” right before Cube opens his verse with a disgruntle “Do, Re, Mi” is hi-larious). Breeze bats third and gets off a decent verse (although someone should have explained to him that you get “blue balls” from not busting a nut…and I’ll never forgive him for trying to make “Kangol” rhyme with “piano”) before King Tee comes back to put a thugged-out bow on things (by the way, “three black negroes” is extremely redundant and hi-larious). Awesome way to end the album.

When I write about an album on this blog, I pretty much live with the album for at least three to four weeks. During that time frame, the albums get anywhere from twelve to twenty spins, from beginning to end (sometimes well over twenty…I’m a truck driver, so I spend a lot of hours driving with just me, myself, and the music). This gives me a fair amount of time to make a thorough assessment of an album and not rely on a knee jerk reaction after a spin or two based on a random mood I may have been in on an arbitrary Tuesday. Using this method can make an album that I initially thought was trash, win me over after a handful of spins. But it also can have the reverse effect, making me change my opinion and see all the iniquities of an album I once deemed superior.

After my first few listens to At Your Own Risk, I was surprisingly underwhelmed and disappointed. Act A Fool, The Triflin’ Album, and IV Life, all sounded at minimum, good if not great, on my first few listens to them. And just when I thought Teela had rendered his first dud of an album, week three of listening to AYOR came and suddenly the same charisma and wit that shone brightly on the other three albums began to enlighten my ears; and like a few shots of tequila, the instrumentals snuck up on me, seemingly out of nowhere, and begin to hit and move me a little. What was once ordinarily mediocre came alive and begin to dance in my eardrums (end dramatic dialogue, here). AYOR is by no means flawless, as there are still a handful of tracks that do nothing for me. It’s easily my least favorite of KT’s car edition albums, but time has helped me see its qualities, and it’s an overall enjoyable listen.

On the album’s title track, King Tee claims that people call him the King of the West. I don’t know if KT’s worthy of the fictitious crown, and honestly, he probably wouldn’t want the throne if it did exist. Who needs a crown and throne when you’re a talented and severely underappreciated court jester with great album covers?

-Deedub

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