Hailing from East Orange, New Jersey, Rottin Razkals was a three-man team composed of Fam, Diesel, and Chap. With Treach being Diesel’s older brother, it only made sense that Naughty By Nature would embrace the trio and help them get their start in the rap game. My introduction to Rottin Razkals came from Fam and Diesel’s cameo on “Knock Em Out Da Box” from Naughty By Nature’s 19 Naughty III album. Then, later in ‘93, Fam would get off a verse on Zhane’s good vibes party classic, “Hey Mr. D.J.” Neither appearance moved me, so I had zero interest or anticipation to hear music from the group. Nevertheless, Rottin Razkals would sign to the Motown Records sub-label, Mad Sounds, releasing their debut album, Rottin Ta Da Core, in March of ‘95.

Another benefit of being in a crew with Naughty By Nature is having access to the extremely underrated producer, Kay Gee. Even though the liner notes for Rottin Ta Da Core credit “Naughty By Nature” for the album’s production, Kay Gee has always been the maestro behind the boards. The Razkals would also invite some extended Illtown crew members to join them on a few of the album’s tracks. RTDC made very little noise and barely cracked the Billboard Top 200, peaking at 190.

I wasn’t even aware that RTDC existed until last August when I saw it begging me to rescue it from a sea of other used CDs in an oversized plastic tub at a New Orleans record store. The two-dollar price tag and Kay Gee’s production credits were enough to pique my interest and close the deal. Hopefully, the music sounds better than the cameos that introduced them to me.

Intro – The first thing you hear on RTDC is a male voice leaving a message on Diesel’s answering machine, stressing that D needs to get to the studio to finish the album (for those under thirty, an answering machine was the physical version of a voicemail box). Then, Rottin Razkals perform a unified chant, making their official introduction to the world and welcoming the listener to the album. The menacing bassline and dark organ chords in the background sound super fire.

Batter Up – After the sound effect of a bite from an apple, a grungy stripped-down synth backdrop comes in for the Razkals and their extended crew to flex on this Wu-Tang style cipher session. If the mighty Treach is in your crew, it’s only right that you allow him to set shit off, and he does, setting the tone for the rest of the team (Diesel, Fam, Headache, Bad Newz, Road Dawgs, and Steel Handlers, which is a sick group name). Collectively, they do a solid job of keeping the energy up for the remainder of the song, which goes pretty damn hard.

Oh Yeah – This was the lead single from RTDC. If you listen to the Commodores record, “Say Yeah,” that Kay Gee takes a two second loop from and builds this instrumental around, you’ll understand why sampling is truly an art form. With the help of Dave Bellochio on keyboards (the same Dave that dropped “a load on ‘em” on “O.P.P.”) and Jack Daley on bass, Kay transforms the Commodores slow jam love ballad into a high energy hip-hop canvas that Fam and Diesel paint with boasts as they attempt to hold down the fort for RR and their Illtown crew. I’m sure the duo’s rhymes didn’t leave their rivals shaking in their Timbs, but they give a decent enough performance. The instrumental does the heavy lifting on this record, though.

Frustration – Rottin’ Razkals use this one to discuss the everyday stress and mental anguish that comes with coming up as a young man in the hood. Chap makes his first appearance of the evening, joining Fam and Diesel as all three members of the group touch on the subject at hand. They don’t profess to be experts on the matter or offer methods on coping with it. Instead, they come off like young men who can relate to the struggle, thus making them relatable to the listener. Once again, Mr. Bellochio and Mr. Daley provide live instrumentation to feel in the spaces in Kay Gee creamily melodic production that almost feels like therapy in itself. The drunken homie skit that follows was pretty useless, but whatever.

A-Yo – This one begins with a few uncredited ladies harmonizing about loving some anonymous person but not having the time to fuck with that unidentified someone. Then an instrumental that sounds like a low-budget version of the “Klickow-Klickow” backdrop (see Naughty’s Poverty’s Paradise) comes in for Fam and Diesel to rhyme like they did on “Klickow-Klickow,” minus the undeniable lyrical force that is Treach and the synergy from the rest of their Illtown crew. It doesn’t hit nearly as hard as “Klickow,” but still passable. I’m still confused what the opening interlude was all about, though.

Hey Alright – This was the second single. Kay Gee loops up Isley, Jasper, Isley’s hit eighties record, “Caravan Of Love,” for the backbone to this track. Fam rolls dolo this time, as he offers up heavy fluff on the verses and the hook, relying heavily on the instrumental to carry the weight, and the plan works out fairly well. The feel-good vibes in this song make it an obvious choice for a single. This one ends with the Razkals chanting about how good they feel before the next song begins.

Lik A Shot – Black from Zoo Crew, Cruddy Click, DUEJA, Headache, The Roaddawgs, and Supreme C join Fam and Diesel for another Wu-Tang-style cipher session. Kay Gee maestro’s darkly pristine synth keys and crisp drums to support the posse’s overall solid round of verbal jousting. 

One Time For Ya Mind – Fam’s opening line is “I’m creative, creatin’ with creativity,” which sets the tone for the plethora of throw-away bars he and Diesel flood this record with. I did enjoy the chill, slightly drowsy instrumental, though.

Get Up, Stand Up – Kay Gee would later use the opening interlude on this track for Poverty’s Paradise (see “Double I Skit”). Then things get serious when Kay and company serve up some gully instrumentation (Dave plays what has to be the filthiest keys of his career) that I would have loved to hear Treach rap over. But Treach doesn’t show up, and Fam and Diesel give it that old college try with lukewarm results.

Life Of A Bastard – As the song title suggests, Fam, Diesel, and Chap (who re-emerges from the world’s longest bathroom break) brood over coming of age in the hood without a father in their lives. If you’re going to do a song about being a bastard and Treach is your big bro, you have to invite him to the affair, and wisely, they do. As vicious as a boasting/battle emcee that Treach is, he is just as potent when he gets into his reflective/introspective bag. He delivers a vividly callous verse on this one, and it’s easily the strongest verse on the entire album. Kay Gee uses a sped-up interpolation of the same Syl Johnson loop that Rza used for Raekwon’s “Heaven & Hell,” and it sounds great, especially paired with Treach’s verse.

Homiez Niggaz – Generic hook and forgettable “reality raps” over soulful keys from Mr. Bellochio, all capped off by a couple more bites taken from the same rotten apple bitten on the intro.

Come On Ya’ll – Rottin Razkals close out the evening with a subtle banger credited to DOUBLE I (although the liner notes also credit Naughty By Nature for the music). The instrumental sounds like a disco break got involved in an entanglement with cool drums and a discretely gully bassline. Fam and Diesel don’t add much lyrical value to the record, but a musical threesome never sounded so good.

There is definitely privilege that comes with being related to one of the greatest emcees of the nineties, who also happened to be the lead mic for one of the most commercially successful hip-hop groups of that era. Diesel’s privilege as Treach’s younger brother benefited him and his Rottin Razskal bredrin, Fam, and Chap, who collectively are an apple on the Naughty By Nature tree. They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, but every once in a while, it falls, takes a tumble down a hill, and ends up miles away from its life-giver.

On Rottin Ta Da Core, the Razkals rely heavily on simple high-energy hooks and the Kay Gee-led production to make up for their middling rhyming abilities. Big bro, Treach contributes a couple of sharp verses, and when their extended crew members show up (Roaddawgs, Steel Handlers, Cruddy Clique, etc.) the synergy makes the tracks sound more interesting. But when Fam, Diesel, and Chap (whose MIA for most of the album) are left to handle microphone duties alone, their mediocrity and aimlessness make it easy to lose focus on the rhymes and hone in strictly on the music, which is overall pretty damn solid. It’s like listening to Charlie Brown’s teacher speak over a dope batch of beats. The Razkals aren’t completely rotten rappers, but their limited skills are the core problem with the album. Pun intended.

-Deedub

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