The last time we discussed Funkdoobiest was for their 1993 debut album, Which Doobie U B? The three-man crew made up of Son Doobie, Tomahawk Funk, and DJ Ralph M (formerly known as DJ Ralph The Mexican) were a part of Muggs’ Soul Assassins collective, which also included his group, Cypress Hill and House of Pain. You can read my complete thoughts on Which Doobie, but in a nutshell, I wasn’t impressed. But even being unimpressed, back in August, when their sophomore effort, Brothas Doobie (which I’d never heard before), was staring at me in the same sea of used CDs that I found Rottin Ta Da Core in, curiosity made me pay the two-dollar price tag, and here we are today.

Brothas Doobie would pretty much use the same cast of characters from Which Doobie, both behind the mic and the boards. The album would render three singles, low record sale numbers, and peak at 115 on the US Billboard 200.

While working on this post, I noticed one distinct difference in the liner notes of Which Doobie and Brothas Doobie. Both albums list the same group of producers: Muggs, DJ Lethal, DJ Ralph M, and T-Ray (aka Ray Roll). Muggs only received co-production credit on two of the tracks on Which Doobie, but he’s listed as a producer for most of the track list for Brothas Doobie. This discovery gives me hope going into Funkdoobiest’s second go-round.

This Is It (Interlude) – Muggs kicks off the show with a soothing bassline and a delectable jazzy xylophone loop placed over cool drums. It makes for a great opening instrumental to vibe to or spit a few wack freestyles bars over in the privacy of your own home.

Rock On – This was the album’s lead single. Son Doobie and Tomahawk Funk go completely left from the class clown antics they participated in throughout Which Doobie with this one. The duo takes on a serious tone as they tackle religion and spirituality in cryptic parables. After at least fifteen listens to the album, I still haven’t unlocked most of Funkdoobiest’s verbal abstractions on this song (although they do have heavy Christianity overtones), but I did enjoy Muggs’ uncharacteristically somber backdrop.

What The Deal – This record gives the listener a glance into a day in the life of Son Doobie, which consists of hanging out, flossin’, drinking, smokin’, partying, sexin’, you know, a whole bunch of nothingness. Speaking of nothingness, Son’s hook has absolutely nothing to do with his verses, but again, I thoroughly enjoyed Muggs’ elegantly soulful mid-tempo production.

Lost In Thought – Muggs may have discovered the funkiest accordion loop of all time with this track that finds Son Doobie lost on the train of thought. Son’s rhymes jump all over the place, covering everything from bills, girls, violence, drinking, and staying alert to hood shit, which all sounds a lot more interesting than anything he spat on Which Doobie.

Dedicated – No matter how many times I’ve heard Roy Ayers’ “Everybody Loves The Sunshine” sampled, it always sounds amazing. Muggs uses it to create the melancholic mood for this record as Son adapts a semi-sorrowful tone (that makes him sound like Masta Ace), reflects on a few societal ills in a fallen world, and shouts out his deceased peoples. The bleakness of Son’s content might make this hard to listen to for some, but I tend to run towards the dark and depressing.

Ka Sera Sera – DJ Ralph M gets his first production credit of the night, switching up the energy with rugged drums and an anxious melodic loop. Son’s “ka sera sera” moment is around a hot girl from high school who’s aged like milk since he’s last seen her. T-Funk’s story comes with more urgency as he details a drive-by shooting of one of his homies and his crew’s retaliation. Despite Son Doobie’s lighthearted verse conflicting with the gravitas spirit of the music, I enjoyed this one.

Pussy Aint Shit – It was only a matter of time before Funkdoobiest showed their true colors. Son Doobie and T-Funk throw maturity to the wind as they minimize the vagina to just lips and a clitoris that they “fuck and then throw out” when they’re finished, and they fill in the rest of the song by listing all the female reproductive organs. T-Funk takes things to juvenile lows when he talks about “farting pussy” during the second verse, and even though most men have experienced what he’s talking about, it sounds embarrassingly corny hearing him say it out loud. Muggs serves up a quirky backdrop that matches his friend’s childish energy. I never need to hear this record again.

XXX Funk – This one starts out with a skit of D-Cup Debbie (which is a great porn name, and if the drawing of the topless chick next to the song credits in the liner notes is Debbie, I would love to see the real life version) asking Son Doobie how he likes his funk. After he answers, a thick stanky bassline mosies on in accompanied by crashing drums for Son to spit a bunch of randomness, punctuated by a catchy as hell hook. This was the third single and a great choice, I might add.

It Aint Going Down – Lethal (aka DJ Lethal from House of Pain) gets his lone production credit on the album, serving up a deliciously poised and controlled jazzy canvas. Son Doobie once again eats by himself and gets off some interesting couplets, resulting in what might be his strongest performance on Brothas Doobie.

You’re Dummin’ – After a slightly amusing interlude, DJ Ralph M brings in a dull instrumental that sounds like it belongs on the Which Doobie album. Son’s boring bars only add insult to injury.

Tomahawk Bang – This one begins with a soundbite from the 1992 film Thunderheart, followed by a clip from The Adventures Of Lone Ranger. The snippets set up Tomahawk Funk and his guest, Sebastian Rosset, to go on a massacre of the white man in retaliation for the evil inflicted on T-Funk’s Native American ancestors and their native land. The duo’s aggravated assault is soundtracked by DJ Ralph M’s chaotic and alarming instrumental, embedded with a sharp PE vocal snippet, along with a clip of a stereotypical Native American war chant that I guess is acceptable since T-Funk is of Native American descent. My description of this record reads a lot more serious than it sounds, but I will be starting my new “Fuck The Pilgrims” playlist off with this record.

Superhoes – This song was originally released on the Friday Soundtrack in April of ‘95. Son Doobie sexualizes comic book heroes/villains, Disney princesses, nursery rhyme characters, Barbie, and a bunch of your favorite childhood cartoon personalities (i.e., He-Man, She-Ra, Judy Jetson, Richie Rich, Tweety, Smurfette, Wilma Flintstone, and Betty Rubble) in this poorly executed and easily forgettable animation orgy.

Who Ra Ra – The final song of the night finds Brett Bouldin joining Son Doobie on some party/celebratory shit as they each get off a decent verse and then get the hell out of Dodge. Muggs and DJ Ralph M combine hard hitting drums, a dense bassline, and warm, jazzy horns that materialize into a tantalizing audio treat.

I mentioned during the opening of this post that I wasn’t a fan of Funkdoobiest’s debut album, Which Doobie U B? The combination of Son Doobie’s poor man B-Real act, his purposeless subpar bars, and the album’s underwhelming production left me questioning Funkdoobiest’s very existence in the genre I hold so near and dear to my heart. Being a thrifty collection completionist can sometimes make you a glutton for punishment, and sometimes what you anticipate being punishment ends up being pleasurable, or at least pleasant.

Muggs served as Brothas Doobie’s executive producer and had a direct hand in producing nine of the album’s thirteen tracks. He and the rest of the production team deviate from his signature dusty blunted sound for a more warm and crisp production, carried by jazz and soul samples that I enjoy much more than the instrumentals on the Doobies first album. Speaking of Doobies, Son Doobie also made improvements behind the mic. He and Tomahawk Funk will never be considered top-tier lyricists, which in the grand scheme of things means nothing when it comes to making records, as some of my favorite wordsmiths were unable to convert their lyrical prowess into quality records or good albums. Son’s no lyrical monster on Brothas Doobie, and he doesn’t completely abandon the immature nonsense he saturated Which Doobie with. Still, he does show growth, displaying depth on a few tracks, and he gets off a few mildly interesting flows on a couple of other joints. And Tomahawk Funk, does Tomahawk Funk.

I’ll admit I went a bit too hard by questioning Funkdoobiest’s existence in hip-hop after listening to Which Doobie. Their debut album still sucks, but the trio proves they could make hip-hop music with some value on Brothas Doobie. It’s far from a classic but worthy of my two dollars, and it left me interested in hearing the rest of their catalog.

-Deedub

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