When it comes to West Coast hip-hop producers, Dr. Dre is indisputably the cream of the crop. His run from Straight Outta Compton to The D.O.C.’s No One Can Do It Better, to The Chronic and Doggystyle, to the magic he created with Eminem and 50 Cent, is unmatched. The West also blessed us with Battlecat, DJ Quik, Madlib, Warren G, and Daz. And I can’t forget about the Bay Area’s own, Ant Banks and E-A-Ski. There are many more names I could list, but today I’ll focus on a man who seldom gets the spotlight. Larry “Laylaw” Goodman.

Laylaw began his career as a solo artist in the mid-eighties, releasing two singles on his Rolodex Records label: “Monster Rapping” (co-produced by a young Dr. Dre) and “What’s Your Name.” For research purposes, I listened to both records on YouTube, and let’s just say Laylaw made a wise decision by ending his career as a rapper to focus on producing. His relationship with Dre would lead to him connecting with N.W.A., who’d soon sign with Ruthless, which led to Laylaw connecting with Above The Law, who also had a deal with Ruthless. Laylaw would help produce ATL’s debut album, Livin’ Like Hustlers, leading to more production opportunities. He’d go on to produce records for Anotha Level (remember them?), Yo-Yo, Kokane, W.C., Ice Cube, and Tupac, to name a few. In ’97, he would release his compilation album, The Lawhouse Experience, Vol. 1.

Laylaw and his production partner, D’Maq, would produce the entirety of TLE. This review marks my first time listening to the album, and based on the track list, it sports a pretty impressive guest list. I’m interested to see how this plays out.

Sadly, Laylaw passed away in January of 2023 after a long battle with cancer. May he continue to rest in peace.

Entrance – Coolio (RIP) interrupts a bunch of crowd noise with an extravagant word salad (Is actual reality the opposite of virtual reality?) to welcome the listener to TLE. Then a laid-back, wah-wah-infused funk groove drops, and Kokane ushers us into the year 2008 (so he says). I’m not sure what the significance of 2008 is, and it may have been explained during Kokane’s hood soliloquy, but the music drowns out his vocals, making it nearly impossible to understand what he’s saying.

Arch Angels – Two-thirds of the short-lived (or should I say underproductive?) West Coast supergroup, Golden State Project, show up for this record: Ras Kass and Xzibit (RIP Saafir). It’s really a Ras Kass solo joint with X to the Z helping out on the hook. Laylaw and D’Maq’s instrumental sounds like their interpretation of East Coast boom-bap, complete with choppy drums and jazzy horns. Ras Kass uses the solid backdrop to showcase his clever wordplay and witty punchlines, delivered through his offbeat flow. I was critical of Ras’s flow on my review of Soul On Ice, but after hearing this record and his verse on Coolio’s My Soul, I may need to revisit his debut album.

Give It Up – Now this is more of the sound I was expecting to hear on TLE. The album’s production duo serves up a trunk-rattling G-funk banger for W.C. to verbally C-walk over, and he sounds right at home in the process (so much so, I’m willing to forgive him for recycling his “kiss my Converse like Sho’nuff” line). This was hard.

Legal Paper – Ice Cube becomes the second consecutive member from Westside Connection to make an appearance on TLE. He uses the smooth synth backdrop to encourage brothers to come up with legal methods of making dough, instead of taking penitentiary chances. By ‘97, Cube’s peak rapping days were behind him. He was clearly more focused on Hollywood than music, but still active in the rap game. This record is far from Cube’s best work, but I like his message and enjoyed the instrumental even more.

Spank That Ass – This interlude introduces the overweight parody rapper, Phat Freddie (shouldn’t it be spelled “Fat”?), who tries to impress Laylaw and his team with subpar bars. There is absolutely no need to listen to this more than once.

Your Hustle Ain’t On – We’ve already heard from one of the legendary West Coast Ice’s, and now we get to hear from the other one. Ice-T surfaces and ironically, his message is the polar opposite of Cube’s, as he encourages the listeners to get their money by any hustle necessary: “If I can’t flip these raps, back to caine” (thankfully, when his rhymes stopped being a reliable source of income, Ice fell back on acting instead of selling dope). Like Cube, Ice-T was also well past his prime in 1997. He technically sounds alright, but not convincing on this record. Thankfully, Laylaw and D’Maq keep the heat coming with another fire instrumental.

One Way In – Go Mack was one of the original members of Above The Law (he left the group after the Black Mafia Life album in 92). I never knew what his role was in the group, but it damn sure wasn’t emceeing. Apparently, he had emcee aspirations all along, as his former ATL co-worker, Laylaw, makes him the featured rapper on this track. Go Mack’s Tourette like flow sounds similar to E-40’s, and if you read this blog regularly, you already know how much I’m not a fan of E-40’s rhyming style. The flow doesn’t work for Go Mack either. He also uses what is arguably the most absurd simile in the history of hip-hop for the hook. At least the instrumental has a pleasant summertime-ready vibe. On a somber note, it’s sad to think half of the original ATL roster and Laylaw are now deceased (rest in peace, KMG and Go Mack.

Lil’ Sumpin’ – This track introduced me to a group I’d never heard of before: Kausion. With a little help from Google, I learned that the three-man crew (Cel, Gonzoe, and Kaydo) released a group project, South Central Los Skanless, on Ice Cube’s Lench Mob label in 1995. I don’t know who is who, but the two guys who rap on the first two verses gave me enough to want to hear more from the group.

Drank Break – Barney Rubble (not to be confused with Fred Flintstone’s partner in crime) shares a few words with hood elegance on this short intermission while a tender Nat King Cole-type piano riff plays in the background. Remind me to add Mr. Rubble to the list of worst alias contenders for ‘97.

Live Yo Life – The Luniz connect with their Oakland bredrin, Dru Down, as the trio make what’s essentially an “advocation for selling dope” record (and they butcher Joe Pesci’s name (see the second verse) along the way). Their commentary did nothing for me, but the semi-spooky, slightly mysterious instrumental was cool.

You Might Get Stuck – Laylaw carries over the dark mood from the previous track. He and D’Maq hook up a chunky, haunted G-funk backdrop for KMG and 187um (of Above The Law) to spit some of their signature pimpology. I’ve always enjoyed KMG and 187um’s chemistry, and it continues to shine through over an instrumental that sounds custom-made for the duo.

Phalosmode – Phalos is another rapper I’d never heard of before this review. During the third verse of his solo joint, he gives the ridiculous meaning behind his alias: “Endless papes in your pocket, bitches ya toss,” and “money on your mind when you wake.” Despite the crock of shit explanation of his moniker and a little blunder during the second verse when he spells his name out (he says the O-S in his name stands for “never settle”), Phalos proves to be decent with the bars. Or is it the sleek production that makes him sound competent?

Housin’ – Eightball and MJG stop by to show Laylaw some love and introduce the next record. It would have been nice to hear them rhyme on a track, but I suppose that would disrupt the West Coast only vibe the album has going.

World Wide – K-Dee (not to be confused with J-Dee from Da Lench Mob, which I often do) gets a solo joint on TLE. Ice Cube provides a placeholder hook, and K-Dee fills three verses with random mediocrity that doesn’t sound ready to leave Los Angeles, let alone go worldwide. But fret not, the meditative vibes in the instrumental should please your ears and soothe your soul even when the rhymes fail.

Westcyde 242 – Laylaw invites Pharcyde to this celebration of West Coast hip-hop. Instead of forcing the chemistry between the quartet of emcees and a G-Funk production, L and D’Maq chef up an instrumental with East Coast sensibilities that still maintains its West Coast integrity for the crew to rock over. This was nice.

I Just Wanna Play – You may not recognize L.V. by his name (or should I say his initials?), but you’ll remember his voice from the hook of Coolio’s mega hit single, “Gangsta’s Paradise.” TLE temporarily breaks away from its hip-hop theme in exchange for a little tender R&B moment. L.V.’s vocals sound decent, but the song is littered with cheesy lyrics (i.e., “You’re wondering what the funk is up”), and the feel-good mechanics in the music feel contrived, making the record easily skippable.

Phat Chance – Another silly Phat Freddie skit that doesn’t need to be listened to more than once.

Exit – Laylaw brings back the creamy backdrop from the “Entrance,” but strips away Kokane’s speech, allowing your earbuds the pleasure of enjoying the soothing instrumental, harmony, and adlibs without interruption.

For TLE’s guest list, Laylaw thumbed through his Rolodex of California contacts, calling on some of its legends and heavyweights, and graciously providing an opportunity for a few friends and a couple of up-and-comers. A few of his guests mail in their performances, but the majority of them give competent to confident presentations. But let’s cut the bullshit. It’s Laylaw and D’Maq’s production that makes The Lawhouse a true experience.

The meat of the production lives in the G-Funk realm and includes some certified bangers, along with a few smooth melodic bops. Occasionally, the duo experiments outside of their usual gangsta stank sound (i.e., “Arch Angels” and “Westcyde 242”), and they really only miss once, and that’s the one time they abandon hip-hop altogether (see “I Just Wanna Play”). Overall, the production is consistent and high quality, making for an entertaining West Coast hip-hop listen.

Laylaw was not a super producer, and it’s safe to say he’ll never be celebrated by the masses. TLE serves as a strong testament to his production talent, and pound for pound, can stand up to or exceed any other hip-hop compilation album released in ‘97. Thank you for your contributions to hip-hop, Larry “Laylaw” Goodman.

-Deedub
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