Time Is Illmatic

My first post of 2024! I hope you all had a wonderful Holiday season and that the new year brings you joy and prosperity. A few more housecleaning write-ups to go before we get back to our regularly scheduled program (1997 is right around the corner…um…well…you know what I mean). Thanks for your support, and Happy New Year!

Ant Banks is an unsung producer out of Oakland, responsible for providing stinky heat for some of your favorite West Coast rappers: Snoop Dogg, Too Short, Spice 1, MC Eiht, E-40, Rappin’ 4-Tay, Mac Mall, Dru Down, South Central Cartel, MC Ren, Mack 10, WC, and I could continue with the list, but this is where I’ll stop. Banks was also a part of the Too Short led Dangerous Crew, and when he wasn’t producing tracks for different members of his team and others, he was putting together raps of his own. Ant’s Dangerous Crew affiliation would help him secure a solo deal with Jive Records (which was also the label home to his Dangerous Crew bredrin, Too Short and Spice 1, in the nineties), where he would release three solo albums, including the subject of today’s post, The Big Badass.

Released in 1994, The Big Badass is the second of Ant Banks’ three solo albums released during his Jive run in the mid-nineties (the other two being Sittin’ On Somethin’ Phat in ‘93 and Do Or Die in ‘95). Unsurprisingly, Ant would handle all the production on the album, and he would call on a bunch of his Dangerous Crew members to help him bear the lyrical load. The Big Badass didn’t make a ton of noise, but even without a hit single, it would peak at number 80 on the Billboard Top 200.

I’ve never listened to The Big Badass before this write-up. A few months ago, I came across a used CD copy of the album while browsing the used CD bins at a record store in my city (shoutout to Electric Fetus!). Let’s jump into it and see how much of a badass Ant is, musically speaking.

The Big Badass – The album begins with the title track, which finds our host and his chipmunk-voiced alter ego (or sidekick?) celebrating the life of a big dick gangsta who smokes weed, gets drunk, and fucks hoes all day. Speaking of hoes, Ant’s poorly worded hook (“I’m havin’ so many hoes, I don’t know what to do”) made me wonder if he was giving birth to them or fuckin’ them. Ant’s instrumental fares a little better than his adolescent rhymes, as it’s laced with one of his signature dense rubbery basslines, but the cheesy synth chords surrounding it gives the music a slapstick feel.

2 Kill A G – Spice 1 and Too Short drop in to join Ant, turning this track into an all-Oakland affair. Mr. 187 kicks things off with a reggae chant for the hook, and he continues to increase his body count since we last heard him on 187 He Wrote (he also continues to shoot his punny twenty-two during his adlibs). Too Short bats second delivering a decent verse, followed by unconvincing mailed-in bars from Ant, then Spice returns to get off his reggae shit, making this feel like a Spice 1 record instead of Ant’s. Even with Spice 1’s admirable performance, the wacky sound effects in the production sours the experience, and not even the sexy bass guitar licks and slick wah-wah strokes at the end of the record could clean it up.

Streets Of Oakland – In two verses, Ant sums up the streets of Oakland to gangstas, hustlers, pimps, hoes, violence, and flossin’: “Welcome to the danger zone, where the niggas don’t play that/Every man for self, the rule is to stay strapped/’Cause rat packers try to jack that ass/From the jealousy that’s built in the streets when you stack cash/And they’ll blast, hopin’ they can get it/Punk, so if you got it, you best to get wit it/Or quit it, ’cause niggas be flippin’ over dope and/Your friends might get you if you’re slippin’ in Oakland.” Boots Riley from Coup, and fellow Oaklandnite, closes the record out with an abstract spoken word poem that sounds great over the hard instrumentation.

The Drunken Fool – This song contains a high dosage of misogyny delivered with criminally elementary rhyme schemes that Ant and Pee-Wee from Digital Underground (who drops in late in the debauchery to do his best Twista impersonation) should be embarrassed of. The singing duo of Otis & Shugg also contribute to this horrendous musical orgy by singing the shamefully bad hook. Harmonizing “All you hoes know that it’s time for you to suck the dick” sounds crazy.

Parlayin’ – Ant loops up some Bootsy Collins to create a breezy backdrop and invites Goldy to hot potato the mic with him as they discuss staying fly and enjoying life despite their haters and naysayers. Decent record.

Clownin’ Wit Da Crew – Ant Banks invites the extended Dangerous Crew to join him on this cipher session: Rappin’ Ron, Pee-Wee, Ant Diddley Dog (which has to be one of the worst rapper aliases of all time), Father Dom, and Too Short. This might be the driest posse record in the history of posse records. I could barely say that last sentence without coughing. Someone, get me a bottle of water, please.

Fuckin’ Wit Banks – Pooh-Man was an Oakland-based rapper down with the Dangerous Crew in the early nineties. Thanks to his DC affiliation (more importantly, his Too Short affiliation), he secured a deal with Jive, releasing his first two albums on the label: Life Of A Criminal in 1990 and Funky As I Wanna Be in 1992. Sometime after the release of Funky As I Wanna Be and 1994, Pooh-Man fell out of good standing with The Dangerous Crew, and this dis record is aimed directly at him. But Mr. Banks doesn’t come alone; he invites Too Short, Goldy, and his Chipmunk alter ego to help verbally jump their adversary. Ant gets off a couple of decent bars (specifically when he calls Pooh “A little wanna be Too Short clone,” which I’ve thought since my introduction to him on the “Sex, Money & Murder” record from the Juice Soundtrack), but does anyone really care about an Ant Banks/Pooh-Man beef? The instrumental is tough, though.

Straight Hustlin’ – The song title might lead one to believe that Ant is talking about selling drugs, but the hustle he speaks about is his music. Our host chronicles his grind in the game to become a viable producer and encourages anyone listening with a dream to continue to chase it. Kudos on the uplifting message and the nasty bassline in the instrumental.

Pimp Style Gangstas – Rappin’ Ron and Ant Diddley Dog join Ant Banks as the three parties take turns displaying their pimp/gangsta style. Ron and Diddley Dog sum the song’s message up best during their opening verse: “I’m a muthafuckin’ pimp with a street full of prostitutes, (and if a nigga talkin’ shit), Well, I’m a gangsta so I gots to shoot, a fake busta with the quickness, I got hella bitches, and more niggas on my hit list.” Mr. Banks provides a mildly funky backdrop, but not funky enough to make me ever want to listen to these three’s fuck shit again.

The Loot – Ant Banks yields and allows his Dangerous Crew leader, Too Short to take center stage. Mr. Shaw uses the opportunity to talk about his humble beginnings in the game, boasts a bit, takes what appears to be a couple more shots at Pooh-Man (the “You just a fat fuckin’ needle in a haystack” line made me come to that conclusion), and spits game about the ultimate mission: to get money. Ant samples Parliament’s “Chocolate City” for the instrumental, and Short Dog sounds great rhyming over it. This is easily the strongest record on the album. If only Banks could have come up with eleven more of these.

Packin’ A Gat – This record was released on the Menace II Society Soundtrack in 1993 under a slightly different song title (“Packin’ A Gun”). Our host concocts a discreetly funky groove to discuss the importance of carrying your piece for protection whenever you leave home. Great advice, adequate record.

Hard As Hell – Ant shows a little vulnerability on this one as he contemplates the struggle of maintaining and keeping his sanity while dealing with death and violence all around him. His semi-cerebral rhymes are backed by a G-funked interpolation of Steely Dan’s “Home At Last.” Ant also invites his friend, J. Spencer to sprinkle cool jazz saxophone notes over the track, giving the song Kenny G vibes. It’s not a superb record, but a mildly entertaining way to cap off the evening.

Much like Pete Rock, Madlib, and Dr. Dre, Ant Banks is a producer who sometimes dabbles with rapping. With that in mind and having heard him rhyme before this listen, I wasn’t expecting much from Mr. Banks lyrically, so the meager bars he spews throughout The Big Badass didn’t really disappoint me. I don’t buy Ant Banks albums looking to hear great lyrical content. I buy his albums to hear funky slaps.

On the album’s title track, Ant Banks rhymes, “Makin’ funky beats is my thing.” When Ant is at his best, his thick skunky basslines, smothered with funky synth chords and live instrumentation, makes for audio delights that will leave you with a stank face while you bob your head uncontrollably. Ant Banks is the Pepe Le Pew of Oakland hip-hop when he’s in his bag. Unfortunately, Mr. Le Pew doesn’t get in his bag often enough on The Big Badass.

Ant’s production on the album isn’t all bad (no pun intended). He does manage to chef up a few undeniable bangers (i.e., “Streets Of Oakland,” “Fuckin’ Wit Banks,” and “The Loot”), but most of his musical work is drenched in mediocrity. And the mediocre music mixed with the meager rhymes, makes the The Big Badass a big disappointment. Pun intended.

Deedub

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M.O.P. will forever hold a special place in my heart for creating arguably the most energetic testosterone-driven thug anthem in hip-hop history with “Ante Up” in 2000. (You don’t agree? Throw the record on right now and tell me it doesn’t make you want to get gully in a mosh pit, or rob somebody, or at least stomp a nigga out). While I’ve always respected the mixture of energy and animosity (shoutout to Tony W) in Billy Danze and Lil Fame’s music, I don’t know if I qualify to call myself a fan of M.O.P.’s music. Allow me to explain.

As I mentioned during my review of M.O.P.’s sophomore album, Firing Squad, that review marked my first time listening to the album. Well, I have another confession to make, folks: Firing Squad was the first M.O.P. album that I’ve ever listened to in its entirety. Throughout the years I’ve heard some of their singles and a handful of cameos they’ve made on other rappers’ songs, but I’ve never gotten around to taking a deep dive into their catalog, which is partly why I started this blog (not specifically for M.O.P., but for artist in general that I’ve never made time to dig into). I’ve had copies of Firing Squad, First Family 4 Life, Mash Out Posse, and St. Marxmen in my collection for well over a decade now, so God willing, I’ll get to them someday. A few months ago, while browsing Amazon for my “most wanted list,” I came across a brand-new reissued CD copy of M.O.P.’s 1994 debut album, To The Death for less than twenty dollars. I had to cop, and since I’m playing chronological catch up at the moment, here we are today (I promise, I’ll be getting to 1997 soon).

To The Death would be the only album M.O.P. would release on Select Records, which was also once the label home to UTFO, Kid ‘N Play, Chubb Rock, and AMG. The Mash Out Posse would pretty much put the production keys into the hands of fellow Brooklynite, DR Period (who is also responsible for creating the heat that backed Danze and Fame’s hostility on “Ante Up”), as he’s credited with producing all but one of the album’s songs. To The Death would render three singles that made very little noise outside of the East Coast region and would peak at 68 on the Billboard US Top R&B/Hip-Hop charts.

It feels like it was just a few months ago that I was listening to and writing about Firing Squad. But it was actually just over a year since I posted my Firing Squad write-up (December 13, 2022, to be exact). Time is truly, illmatic.

Crimetime 1-718 – The album begins with a pensive instrumental that Billy and Fame use to shoutout their home borough of Brooklyn, that they also affectionately refer to as Crooklyn, for very specific reasons. And if you’re wondering, “718” is the area code where their criminal activity takes place.

Rugged Neva Smoove – DR Period follows up the intro with more mid-tempo heat, meshing synth chords with soulful choir notes, and a rough rockish bassline. Danze and Fame make their proper introductions as they dish out their first round of verbal beat downs and aggressively let the listener know their musical preference during the hook.

Ring Ding – Things get a lot grimier than the previous two tracks with this raw boom-bap backdrop that Billy and Fame continue to scream hostilities at. The instrumental sounds a little empty, but the gully bassline adds some much-needed meat to what otherwise skimpy backing music is.

Heistmasters – The Mash Out boys use this one to outline the deets of a few robberies right in front of our ears, and it’s all soundtracked by jazzy horns and poppin’ swing drums. Heisting has never sounded so pleasant.

Blue Steel – Bluing is the process of coating steel with black oxide to protect it from rusting, which also gives the steel a black/blue shine. Danze and Fame prefer their guns blued. They wrote a song about it. Wanna hear it? Here it goes…

Who Is M.O.P.?? – Fame and Danze use this short interlude to list all the extended members in the M.O.P. family.

To The Death – If the instrumental for “Ring Ding” was grimy, this one is bottom of the gutter gully. Danze and Fame sound at home rhyming over the dark and dirty canvas as they pledge allegiance to each other and the M.O.P name. This is definitely one of my favorite joints on the album.

Big Mal – M.O.P. pays respect to one of their fallen bredrin on this side one ending seven second interlude.

Top Of The Line – M.O.P. brings the same aggressive energy they’ve had during the rest of the album, but something about the weary bassline and the synthetic horns brought in between the verses turned me all the way off. Despite the song title, this is definitely at the bottom of the line as far as tracks on the album go.

This Is Your Brain – M.O.P. reinterprets an old eighties drug prevention PSA for this interlude. There’s no need to listen to this one more than once.

Drama Lord – Decent.

F.A.G. (Fake Ass Gangsta) – This instrumental is the audio equivalent of fire falling from heaven during the apocalypse, consuming Earth and all the fake ass gangstas who roam on it. Kudos to M.O.P. for successfully disguising a derogatory term in an acronym to dis their adversaries. But there is nothing derogatory about DR Period’s fire backdrop.

How About Some Hardcore – This was the album’s lead single and the only song I was familiar with going into this write-up. DR Period’s blaring horns and cool bassline sound just as enduring today as they did thirty years ago, while Danze and Fame’s aggressive thuggery still entertains (Fame’s “Mother made ‘em, mother had ‘em, so muthafuck ‘em” might be the best line on the entire album).

Positive Influences – One last interlude before the final song of the evening.

Guns N Roses – Billy and Fame use the final song of the night to discuss the intriguing dichotomy of shooting their rivals and bringing flowers to mourn the homies they lost to gun violence. M.O.P.’s content doesn’t sound nearly as serious as described in the previous sentence, and Silver D’s dull instrumental makes it easy to mentally check out of this record. Shoutout to Axl Rose and Slash.

In my previous write-up, I praised Spice 1 for standing firm on his square and never wavering in his gangsterism. Similarly, M.O.P. is a group whose messaging stayed consistent throughout the nineties as they were unapologetic and direct with their objective: to let all fake ass gangstas know that they were better than them, and if you opposed them or disagreed, prepare to get beat up, robbed or shot. On To The Death, the Mash Out Posse stays true to their mission statement, mixing Brooklyn bravado with bully bars backed by a hefty dosage of boom-bap beats.

I will always champion rappers who go against the grain and refuse to make formulaic records, but one of the challenges that comes with staying in a specific lane for an entire album is keeping things fresh and interesting. On To The Death (as well as Firing Squad), the bully lane traveled by Billy and Fame gets redundant quickly, as their “rah rah” begins to lose its potency by the midway point, and I found myself zoning in and out during several of the album’s songs. Thankfully, DR Period’s solid production keeps things afloat even when M.O.P.’s rhymes get a little stagnant.

Despite its lyrical redundancy, To The Death is still a decent debut from the Brownsville duo. But if Billy and Fame put guns to my head and made me choose between To The Death and Firing Squad, I would think Firing Squad, but of course, I’d tell them that both albums were flawless masterpieces. What? I ain’t trying to get shot.

-Deedub

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By 1993, Sex, Pistols, Indo, Cash, Entertainment-One, better known to the world as the Oakland-based gangsta rapper, Spice 1 was one of the hottest artists in the game. Fresh off his gold-selling 1992 self-titled debut album, Spice 1 would score the biggest hit of his career in the summer of ‘93 with his single, “Nigga Gots No Heart,” from the Menace II Society Soundtrack. The record would help propel the Menace Soundtrack to number eleven on the Billboard Top 200, number one on the R&B/Hip-Hop charts, and along with MC Eiht’s “Streiht Up Menace,” would play a large part in the album earning a platinum plaque. Spice 1 would look to capitalize on the momentum of his Menace success by releasing his sophomore album, 187 He Wrote in the fall of ‘93.

For the few of you who may not know, “187” is the California penal code for murder. Spice 1 would call on some familiar names to musical back his violent tales, including Too-Short, Ant Banks, and E-A-Ski & CMT. He would also get production work from a few lesser-known producers, and the album would include cameos from a few of hip-hop’s heavy hitters. 187 He Wrote would receive favorable reviews, climb to numero uno on the Billboard Top R&B/Hip-Hop charts and number ten on the Billboard Top 200. It would also earn Spice 1 another plaque, becoming gold certified just sixty days after its release.

I bought 187 He Wrote on cassette when it came out back in ‘93. But like most of my tapes, it fell victim to my hungry cassette player or just got lost in the shuffle when I started converting to CDs in the mid-nineties. Nevertheless, nostalgia struck when I discovered and bought a used CD copy a few months ago. It’s been a minute since I’ve listened to the album, so let’s see how Spice 1’s murderous tales have held up these past thirty years.

I’m The Fuckin’ Murderer – After some heavy breathing and a few words from a way too often used demonically distorted voice, Spice 1 sets the tone for the evening with this opening song. Prodeje from South Central Cartel lays down a dark, slick, deep funk groove for our host to go on his verbal murder spree, spilling blood all over the track. Spice sounds great on the mic as he rides the beat like an elite equestrian, and he takes his performance to another level when he breaks out his stutter flow (that I first heard him use on “Money Gone” off his debut album) for the last two verses. The “High Powered” RBX vocal snippets embedded into the hook are the cherry on top of this fire record that’s sure to get your adrenaline or your shotgun pumpin’.

Dumpin ‘Em Ditches – This was the lead single from 187 He Wrote. E-A-Ski & CMT get their first of four production credits of the night, providing a solid synth mid-tempo bop for Spice to catch more bodies on, and he’s polite enough to give them all proper burials. I could be wrong, and the liner notes don’t support my theory, but I have a sneaking suspicion that MC Eiht wrote this one for Spice. Listen closely to Spice’s cadence and adlibs and let me know in the comments if you hear it too.

Gas Chamber – This one left me scratching my head. Per usual, Mr. 1 spends the entire song talking about his criminal past (question: how does one “pack” an AR 15?), but throughout the record, he subtly suggests that brothers find other means of making ends meet, as an early death or prison are the only rewards earned from the street life. He even ends his final verse by saying, “In ’93” the criminal lifestyle “ain’t for you and me.” Then he closes the song with his moral of the story: “When you shoot the next muthafucka, you goin’ to jail regardless of what muthafuckin’ color you got on, you know what I’m sayin’? You gonna get the gas chamber, regardless. So, why not do it for some cash, anyway?” If that soliloquy made sense to you, please explain to me what the hell he’s talking about in the comments. Regardless of Spice’s nonsensical utterings, I enjoyed Too Short’s low-key funky instrumental.

187 He Wrote – The title track finds Spice in his 2pac bag as he plays a paranoid gangster whose criminal history and surroundings have him looking over his shoulder awaiting a visit from the grim reaper: “I’m tryna keep my aces and my deuces all together/I’m thinking of self-murder, I know I won’t live forever/this chronic got me noid, I need to get a job/but instead I wanna sell dope, hang on a rope and steady mob/I’m waking up in the morning thinking of death/as I break out in a cold sweat/I’m havin’ dreams of a whole family put to rest/visions of a dead man, body bags/and all the youngstas gettin’ they cap cooked over colored rags.” Spice’s dark content is backed by silky smooth emotional instrumentation (credited to Mentally Blunted), and we get our first taste of his puny-sounding gunshot adlib (“Bloah!”).

Don’t Ring The Alarm (The Heist) – Boss flies in from Detroit to join the East Bay Gangsta for a bank robbery. Spice makes it clear to the listener and Boss what the mission is early on during his opening verse, when he hi-lariously instructs Boss to “Put this gat up in your panties, ‘cause we gon’ rob these muthafuckas for every nook and cranny.” They seem to have the perfect team, scheme, and theme music for the heist (Mentally Blunted’s sinister backdrop is extremely hard), but when the cops get involved their plan foils, and they literally fumble the bag (Wait…was Spice thinking about killing Boss before the cops showed up?). Regardless, it makes for a very intriguing listen.

Clip & The Trigga – Ant Banks maestro’s one of his signature animated rubbery funk grooves and helps with part of the hook for this ode to the clip and the trigger, or “trigga.” Spice continues his violence spree and sprinkles a little reggae seasoning on the record. No pun intended.

Smoke ‘Em Like A Blunt – The reggae seasoning Spice 1 sprinkled on the previous track turns into a full-fledged reggae lathering on this one. Mr. Sex & Pistols chants about smoking some random dudes and cops like blunts over a solid reggae riddim (surprisingly, credited to Too Short) that’s bound to put you in a trance as you put something in the air. We also get a heapin’ helpin’ of his mega corny gunshot adlib (smh). He has to be firing off a pink twenty-two.

The Murda Show – Now, this is a collab that makes perfect sense. Spice 1 and MC Eiht were both coming off the success of hit records on the Menace II Society Soundtrack, released in the summer of ‘93. Add the fact they both love to shoot people on wax, and this aptly titled record is a match made in gangsta heaven. Eiht’s credited for the passable instrumental, and both emcees do a solid job sticking to the script.

380 On That Ass – I always found it interesting that there were two different hip-hop groups with a Havoc and a Prodigy in the mid-nineties. On the East Coast you had Havoc and Prodigy of Mobb Deep, and the West Coast had South Central Cartel, which had Prodigy (Spelled “Prodeje”) and two Havoc’s (Havoc Da Mouthpiece and Havikk The Rhyme Son). All three of them join Spice 1 on this record. The song begins with Havoc Da Mouthpiece and our host in the middle of a smoke session reminiscing about Spice 1’s ode to his 9mm from his debut album (“Peace To My Nine”). Then Spice informs Havoc that his weapon of choice has changed to something more sleek and easier to conceal. Spice and Havikk proceed to rap praises to their .380s, while Prodeje spends most of his verse bragging about the damage his nine can do. Then at the tail end of his verse, he gets back in line with the song’s subject. Prodeje is also credited for the hard instrumental, so I’m willing to show him grace for conceptually missing the mark.

Mo’ Mail – More drug and murder talk from Spice 1, as his Bay area comrade E-40 stops by to splash the track with adlibs in the form of his signature gibberish, I mean, slang. I’ve never been a fan of E-40, so I was very happy that he didn’t rap on this record. But even with 40 restraining from rhyming, I didn’t care much for this one.

Runnin’ Out Da Crackhouse – A shootout with crackheads at a crackhouse, quickly turns into a scuffle with police, a wrestling match with Rin Tin Tin, and jail time for our host. Spice’s storyline is all over the place, but the soulful instrumental makes his theatrics a little more enjoyable.

Trigga Gots No Heart – This was the hit single from the Menace II Society Soundtrack that I mentioned earlier (it’s actually the edited version of “Nigga Gots No Heart,” as both versions appear on the soundtrack). Spice comes from the perspective of a drug dealer who feels trapped in the hood and his hopelessness has him living recklessly as a self-proclaimed “madman killer”: “Release the trigga as I hurt off the liquor/nina put a cease on his Timex ticker/and uh, Prez, he can’t give me no love/‘cause I’m stuck on the corner in the ghetto slangin’ dub sacks.” The song ends on a sad note as karma finally catches up to our host. E-A-Ski & CMT are responsible for the layered melancholic and callous backdrop that’s sure to tug at your heartstrings.

Trigga Happy – Our host tries to recapture the magic he created with his debut single, “187 Proof.” Instead of bringing different alcoholic beverages to life for his storyline, fittingly, he turns different types of guns into people for this hood tale. The song doesn’t hold a candle to “187 Proof,” but it does bring some levity to what has been a dark and violent listen to this point.

RIP – E-A-Ski & CMT build this glossy somber backdrop around the same Gwen McCrae loop used for Boss’ “Deeper,” as Spice reflects and reminisces about some of the homies he’s lost to the streets. Spice continues to diversify his flow portfolio, delivering his rhymes with a restrained saddened baritone flow (reminiscent of Scarface) that completely cooperates with the solemn vibes of the music.

All He Wrote – Our host ends the album giving shoutouts with another uncredited gentleman, over silky wah-wah guitar licks and a drumbeat that even a rapper with Spice 1’s versatile flow could only give shoutouts over. And that’s…all he wrote.

In a genre where most of its artists and acts follow trends and make formulaic records to gain commercial success, it’s always nice to see a rapper who knows his lane, stands firm on his square, and sticks to his guns. There might not be a rapper who has stuck closer to his guns throughout his career, both literally and figuratively, than Spice 1.

From beginning to end, 187 He Wrote finds our host blooding each track with violent tales, never wasting time on contrived love/lust songs intended to win over a female fanbase or bothering with making a forced club banger to make you feel good and dance. Spice 1 gives no fucks about love, your feelings, or expanding his fanbase. He’s more concerned with feeding the listener a constant and consistent diet of murder, drugs, guns, and more murder while showcasing the versatility in his flow. Spice’s rhymes are backed by a nice mixture of West Coast bangers and soulfully cinematic grooves that help keep his redundant content interesting. The handful of cameos are scattered proportionately throughout 187 He Wrote, so it still feels like a Spice 1 solo album; and even while in the room with some prominent names, Spice 1 not only holds his own but shines the brightest. There are a couple of songs that could have been left off the final product, and the “bloah” adlib that Spice saturates 187 He Wrote with is one of the worst in hip-hop history, but overall, 187 He Wrote is a darkly entertaining listen that lives up to its title.

-Deedub

Follow me on Instragram@damontimeisillmatic

The last time we checked in on the Brooklyn-based rap group, X-Clan, was in 1990 with their debut album, To The East, Blackwards. The album may not have been commercially successful, but it was a critical darling with beats that hit harder than Ike Turner and the conscious messaging from Brother J and Professor X was blacker than Whoopi Goldberg’s lips, the back of Forest Whitaker’s neck, and Wesley Snipes, combined. Many regard the album as one of the best hip-hop albums of the nineties, and The Source Magazine would even include it on their 1998 list of 100 Best Albums of all time. After a two-year hiatus, X-Clan would return on the scene with their sophomore effort, Xodus.

Like their first go-round, X-Clan would keep all the production in-house with no featured guests and stick with an eleven-song track count. Adding to the similarities with To The East, Xodus would peak at number eleven on the Billboard R&B/Hip-Hop Charts, but it would rise higher than the former on the Billboard Top 200, peaking at 31.

Xodus is another album that I didn’t buy when it originally came out, although I do remember a couple of the album’s singles. Nevertheless, I bought a used CD copy a few months ago and now I get to unpack with you all.

Rest in peace to Professor X and Sugar Shaft.

Foreplay – The album begins with a dense bass line, hollow drums, and a few of X-Clan’s naysayers whining, I mean, complaining about the issues they have with the group, while a sample of a crying baby in the background pokes fun at their haters. The first part of this intro ends with a snippet of a speech from what sounds like Professor X, crediting Minister Louis Farrakhan as “The leader of the real X-Clan.” The second half features Professor X sharing a poetic lecture on Black consciousness over the same dense bassline used on part one, but with softer drums, and the crying baby loop is replaced with a laughing one.

Cosmic Ark – After thunder strikes and rain falls, an ominous horn loop meets Brother J’s authoritative voice and his opening remarks. Then a simple but effective drumbeat drops, and Brother J gives us his first dosage of militant pro-Black parables: “And as we dig down deep for ark feel/and none try to steal, when they know they can’t deal/my rhythmist vibe is more effective/potency vibes for all the pro-Black selective.” The Overseer also gets off a quick verse, and of course, he closes the song with his signature Pan-African colors stamp of approval.

A.D.A.M. – This was the third single released from Xodus. The team loops up Grover Washington Jr.’s “Mr. Magic” (making this the third consecutive post that I’ve mentioned his name) for this smooth laidback musical canvas, as Professor X and Brother J, once again, do their respective things, effectively.

Xodus – X-Clan builds this instrumental around a couple of very familiar samples (the Ohio Players’ “Funky Worm” and a funky sample from The Turtles’ record that D-Nice previously used and made hip-hop famous with “Call Me D-Nice”). Brother J stand firmly on his soapbox and spits another well-articulated Black pride sermon with cosigns from the Professor. J also continues his feud with KRS-One over his humanist stance (“Or would you ask me if I’m a humanist?”) and takes what appears to be a subtle jab at MC Breed (“I hear some niggas talking ’bout they’ll paint the White House black/I’ll blow the sucka up and pressure on the attack,” referencing a line from Breed’s 1991 hit, “Ain’t No Future In Yo’ Frontin’,” which also sampled “Funky Worm”). All in all, another solid record.

F.T.P. – If you’re not sure what the acronym in the song title means, it’ll quickly click once the first hook rolls in. X and J use a funky little rhythm (built around a Ripple loop that most of you will recognize from Special Ed’s classic, “I Got It Made”) to discuss the turbulent relationship between the police and the Black Community. The message (which remains as relevant today as it was thirty years ago) is the same as N.W.A.’s infamous record, but naturally, X-Clan delivers theirs with more sophistication. The smooth En Vogue “Hold On” break placed in between the verses was a nice added touch.

Fire & Earth (100% Natural) – This was the lead single from Xodus. The record opens with a sample of a choir singing an old negro spiritual with snippets from Jimmy Castor’s “Troglodyte” woven in and calling the white man a few different colorful names (no pun intended). Then the sick instrumental drops and X and J commence to share with the listener what kind of “niggas” they are. Oh, and if you didn’t catch it during “Xodus,” X-Clan hates humanists, which means The Blastmaster catches a few more shots (including being called Captain Human, leader of the Rainbow Crew, and Professor X sends him a smug dis at the end of the record, in riddle form, of course). I was today years old when I looked at the liner notes and found out the instrumental was built around a loop from B.B. King’s “The Thrill Is Gone.” The sample is so amazingly chopped, sliced, and diced that I didn’t recognize, even after listening to B.B.’s record, again.

Holy Rum Swig – Brother J’s dexterity is put to the test on this one, as the beat changes up no less than six times trying to stifle are host’s flow; but he never misses um, a beat. This was fire, and another great song title.

Ooh Baby – The Overseer and Grand Verbalizer use this one to discuss Black women, sex with Black women, and the power of the vagina. Brother J’s rhymes are deeply coded on this one, while Professor X’s riddles are a lot more straight forward: “Behold, the land of P, has something to do with the V,” and later he closes the record with: “If you haven’t discovered yet, we’ve come out of a hole, brother, to spend the rest of our lives to get back in…ask your mother.” Years before No ID would use the harmonic loop from Stevie Wonder’s “Love’s In Need Of Love Today” for Jay-Z’s “Smile,” X-Clan would tap the sample for this record. Unfortunately, the loop is only brought in during the hook and the rest of the instrumental doesn’t sound that interesting.

Rhythem Of God – A loop from George Kranz’s “Din Daa Daa” meets frantic-paced mega-intense drums to back Brother J’s pro-Black doused verbal darts. Random thought: “Din Daa Daa” always reminds me of Yello’s “Oh Yeah,” which immediately makes me think about the closing scene of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off when a depleted and defeated Principal Rooney gets on the school bus after an unsuccessful attempt to catch Ferris playing hooky. Easily my favorite song on Xodus.

Verbal Papp – Our hosts slow things down to a soothing pace, placing the drums from Lee Dorsey’s “Get Out My Life, Woman” under a very familiar and melodic Barry White loop (it’s been sampled a million times, but always sounds amazing). Brother J honors his father and ancestors and continues to verbalize his strong Black pride. Even if you don’t catch all of J’s rhymes, he and Professor X’s mellifluous voices will leave you hypnotized, along with the beautifully airy music.

Funk Liberation – X-Clan ends the album “Fired up and can’t take no more,” as they refuse to conform to societal norms and hip-hop cultural trends: “I’m bout sick of that conform shit to my stomach, it’s time to liberate or funk it.” Per usual, Brother J offers up some meaty verses that’ll give you something to think about even if you don’t completely agree with his perspective. I think we all can agree that this bassy, hard drum-driven instrumental is dope.

Xodus finds X-Clan carrying on the mission they began on To The East, Blackwards. Professor X graciously blesses each track with spoken word riddles, delivered in his signature snobbish tone, while Brother J rhymes with Shakespearean bravado, living up to his Grand Verbalizer title as he spills oodles of “funkin’ lessons” filled with Black pride messages and Pro-Black overtones. And of course, every message gets stamped and approved by the red, the black, and the green. X and J’s cryptic orations will require some brain power to comprehend, and with each listen, you’ll unlock a new rhyme. If you’re a numskull or just a person who prefers superficial or easy-to-understand rhymes in your hip-hop music, lyrically, the Clan might not be your cup of tea, but their blend of soul, funk, and pop loops over hefty drumbeats should keep your head bobbin’, and Brother J and Professor X’s instrument-like melodic voices will also keep you engaged. X-Clan didn’t dig too deep in the crates for their samples, as most of the breaks sound recognizable and recycled, but the familiarity almost gives the album a mixtape feel, that I personally enjoyed.

The book of Exodus documents Moses’ journey of self-awareness, as he discovers his true identity and God, which eventually leads to him leading his enslaved Jewish people out of bondage from Egypt to the land God promised them. Similarly, on Xodus, X-Clan is out to awaken and free the Black man, women, and child of North America from their mental bondage through music. Thirty-one years have passed, and I still don’t know if we can say their mission was successful. But it took the children of Israel forty years to enter the promised land, so let’s reassess the situation in another nine years.

-Deedub

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Motown Records (originally named Tamla Records) was founded by Barry Gordy in Detroit, Michigan in 1959. The Black owned label would introduce the world to legendary artists such as The Supremes, The Temptations, Four Tops, Smokey Robinson, Marvin Gaye, Stevie Wonder, and Michael Jackson. In the sixties, Motown formulated its signature soul sound and throughout the decade would string together a slew of top ten hits (seventy-nine, to be exact). Due to its success, Motown would earn the nickname of Hitsville USA, establishing itself as arguably the most important Black music label of all-time. As the eighties rolled around and hip-hop became more prominent, Motown, who once exclusively focused on soul and R&B, started looking to get in on the growing musical genre. Rich Nice would become the first rapper signed to Motown.

Most of you might not know who Rich Nice is, but through the years, he’s carved out a pretty impressive resume behind the scenes in the entertainment world. He helped found and was once a part of the legendary production team, Trackmasters (you can hear his voice on interludes for Foxy Brown and LL Cool J), he’s been a record label A&R rep, radio host, deejay, produced television, and for a reasonable fee you can periodically catch him on SiriusXM’s Sway In The Morning, hosting the A&R Room segment where he and Sway play new music and let the listeners call in and share their opinion on the songs. But before all of that, the Virgin Islands born Bronx transplant would get his feet wet in the industry as a rapper, inking a deal with Motown records in the late eighties. He would release his debut and only album, Information To Raise A Nation in 1990 (side note: Jesse West’s debut, No Prisoners, which was also released on Motown, came out a few months prior to Information, but Rich Nice signed his deal first). Information would include ten tracks, all produced and mixed by the Grammy Award winning producer, Gordon Williams aka Commissioner Gordon and Rich Nice.

I bought a used vinyl copy of Information for a few bucks at a local record store around my way (that I’ll probably never go to again based on their terrible customer service), strictly out of curiosity. I’ve never listened to the album until now, but my gut instinct (which is pretty much based on the cheesy album cover) has me feeling a little apprehensive.

The Rhythm, The Feeling – Rich Nice starts the album off with a techno-beat, accompanied by dance-themed rhymes, which both sound godawful. Moving on…

Outstanding – Jeff Redd (who I’ll always remember for his single, “You Called & Told Me” from the Strictly Business Soundtrack) joins Rich for this loose remake of The Gap Band’s classic with the same name. Nice spews nauseating pick-up lines and corny cliches, while Redd desecrates the hollow ground Charlie Wilson laid with his vocals on the original. Commissioner Gordon’s cheesy instrumentation only makes matters worse.

It’s Time To Get Hype – Rich and Commissioner Gordon concoct this swiftly paced backdrop that our host uses to spew his best battle bars over. Rich doesn’t sound great by any stretch of the imagination, but delivers a serviceable performance, and I’m sure the B-Boy community appreciated this instrumental way back then.

So What You Gotta Man – Ladies, if a man leads off the conversation with the title of this song (followed by bullshit like “My love will make you understand”) he’s only trying to fuck you. Oh yeah, back to the song. It’s trash.

Desperado (The Mexican) – Rich Nice wraps up side one of Information (if you’re listening on vinyl) with more meager boasts of his lyrical supremacy with no substance to back it up (What the hell does “My rhymes are stuck in your head just like an echo” mean?). Mr. Williams matches Rich’s mediocrity with another mundane musical score. And am I the only one that found it humorously ironic that the song title’s surname is “The Mexican,” but there’s a reoccurring vocal snippet of a brother saying “The first African rhythms were made in Africa”? After a short moment of silence, a snippet of Rich asking Mr. Williams to make a few alterations to a track can be heard, adding absolutely nothing to the album.

Outlaw – Rich claimed to be a desperado on the previous record, and now he’s acting out the role of an outlaw: “Wanted by be the best of them, but it’s all right, ’cause I’m better than the rest of them.” Rich adapts a grimier vocal tone than normal, as if that would make the listener belief the “fugitive image” he’s trying to sell (by the way, what does “finding your heritage” have to do with being an outlaw?). What’s really criminal about this record is Rich and Commissioner Gordon’s blatant heist of the blueprint for the Fearless Four’s “Rockin’ It” instrumental.

Dead To The Knowledge – The low-budget dark and creepy synth chords made me think Rich was going to give us an early horrorcore record. Instead, our host uses it to awaken those with no knowledge of self as he “drops science on ‘em.” Rich’s elementary level woke points delivered with an embarrassingly bad cadence, accompanied by the atrocious instrumental, makes this arguably the worst conscious record of all-time.

Trouble Man – Commissioner Gordon loops up Grover Washington Jr.’s “Hydra” (which seems like I’ve been referencing a lot lately) for this one. For some reason Mr. Williams felt the need to ruin the beautifully bouncy bop with a hideous horn riff placed in between Rich’s verses that sounds as cringe-worthy as someone scraping a fork against a chalkboard. Rich plays it cool as Arthur Fonzarelli, doing his best Rakim impersonation, which was far from impressive.

Information To Raise A Nation – Over a dark danceable instrumental sprinkled with an annoying squealing noise, Rich gets back to “dropping science” as he pretty much covers the same territory that he touched on during “Dead To The Knowledge.” He also drops his only curses on the entire album when he flares up while addressing some of the issues that plague the inner city: “Fathers shootin’ smack/mothers smokin’ crack/making a living on her back/the government smiling ’cause they run the game/ a fuckin’ horror show, it’s a shame.” Even though his message feels a bit contrived, this record fairs much better than his previous conscious content outing.

Two Seconds From Disaster – The song title sounds like a title for a corny apocalyptic movie. Rich does briefly touch on Armageddon, but he also discusses natural disasters, the crack epidemic, racism, AIDS, and a few conspiracy theories. The instrumental was surprisingly decent, and Rich delivers his best rhymes of the evening.

In an effort to inspire and uplift the faith of the church in Corinth, Greece, Apostle Paul wrote two letters to them (which are both books in the Bible: 1 Corinthians and 2 Corinthians). In chapter 9 of 1 Corinthians, Paul talks to the church about how he became a slave to everyone with the intention of converting as many as he could to Christianity. He speaks of becoming a Jew to win overs Jews, putting himself under the law to win over those under the law, living like one without law to win over those who live by no law, and becoming weak to appeal to the weak. He sums it all up by saying: “I have become all things to all people so that by all possible means I might save some.” Rich Nice is not an apostle, nor was he trying to win souls for Jesus (though, he does shoutout the Ancient Greeks on “It’s Time To Get Hype”). But like Paul, Rich was trying to be all things to all people on Information To Raise A Nation.

On Information, Rich Nice tries to wear four different hats: ladies’ man, lyrical hyena, party guy, and conscious rapper. Unfortunately, his limited talent doesn’t allow him to wear any of the hats well, and during his attempt to be all things to all people, he spreads himself thin and comes off like an amateur Jack of all trades, but master of none. To make matters worse, most of the production on Information is dated and downright awful and time has only made the music sounds painfully more bitter.

Information is proof that sometimes you can correctly judge a book by its cover. It’s also a cautionary tale of how an attempt to please everybody can lead to you disappointing everyone. Information just might be the worst hip-hop album of all time.

-Deedub

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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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Audio Two was a duo out of Brooklyn, New York consisting of the brother duo of Kirk “Milk Dee” Robinson and Nat “Gizmo” Robinson, who will forever be remembered for their biggest record, “Top Billin’.” The record was released in October of 1987, and while it wasn’t a hit in a commercial sense, it became a hood staple and certified hip-hop classic that has stood Teflon strong through the test of time. Everyone from Mary J. Blige, 50 Cent, Kanye and Jay-Z, Fergie, Compton’s Most Wanted, Cassidy, Luniz, 2Pac, Dr. Dre, Ne-Yo, Ruben Studdard, and numerous others have sampled and borrowed elements of the definitive record over the past thirty-five plus years. The enormity of the record has overshadowed Audio Two and the rest of their contributions to hip-hop. Many forget that they helped spark the career of MC Lyte (they produced several of her early records and Milk Dee is credited with penning a large chunk of her rhymes) and released two albums of their own: their 1988 debut album, What More Can I Say, and the subject of today’s post, I Don’t Care: The Album.

Ironically, the album title was taken from a line from “Top Billin’.” Audio Two would be responsible for the bulk of the production on I Don’t Care, with a few assists, including a couple coming from King Of Chill, and a few cameos that we’ll discuss later. I Don’t Care didn’t move a ton of units and would peak at 74 on the US Top R&B/Hip-Hop Albums Charts. The duo recorded a third album, titled The First Dead Indian, but they would go their separate ways before its release and the album would never see the light of day. But with a little research, aka googling, you can find some of the unreleased tracks online.

I bought a used vinyl copy of I Don’t Care for a couple of bucks a few months ago at a local record store. This post marks my first time listening to the album, and if the zany album cover is any indication of what the music will sound like, I’m anticipating a bizarre audio appearance.

On The Road Again/ Interlude One – I had to check the liner notes to make sure Teddy Riley wasn’t responsible for the New Jack Swing seasoning sprinkled over the instrumental of this opening track. Thankfully, TR had nothing to do with the low-budget knockoff; you can blame it all on Terence Dudley and Audio Two. Speaking of Audio Two, Milk Dee sounds like someone put a gun to his head and forced him to rap over this bullshit. Even in reluctancy, he entertains with a few humorous lines (“Hold your girl ‘cause I might pull her, it doesn’t matter what the color, I take them white, light, brown, and duller, what I’m saying is I don’t discriminate, any size or color’s great”) and witty battle bars (“Step in clubs with Milk Dee tactics, flying kicks and double backflips, many styles will come to play, when Milk Dee must destroy and slay them”). The song is followed by a short skit with some dude who sounds like Leon Phelps from The Ladies Man, scolding Milk Dee for his “I don’t care” attitude.

Get Your Mother Off The Crack – Over a muddled low-quality instrumental, Milk chops it up with an anonymous person, discussing their mother’s crack addiction: “Boom! I’m here to talk about your mother, she ain’t nothing but a cheap crack sucker, suckin’ on a pipe like a pipe is a straw, she’s gotta extra pipe in the hall by the drawer.” I can’t tell if this is a PSA on the dangers of smoking crack or a dis to the anonymous person’s mom (the reinterpretation of The Temptations’ “War” chant was definitely a dis). All these years I thought Whitney Houston coined the phrase “Crack is wack.” Who would have known she stole it from Milk Dee? Regardless, I hope Milk’s comedic commentary helped prevent someone from smoking crack and motivated a crackhead or two to quit the deadly habit.

Undercover Hooker – Milk Dee uses this one to call out all the closeted freaky ladies, boasts about his “customized condoms, fitted to perfection” and “enticing young ladies with his best eye lingo.” He also proudly admits to being a part of the promiscuous community that he shames through most of the song: “Cause love is a game that you play to win, there are hookers in the house, so let the games begin.” Unfortunately, King Of Chill’s drab instrumental doesn’t match the liveliness of Milk’s rhymes.

Worse Than A Gremlin – Other than a few ad-libs from Giz, Milk’s been the only voice we’ve heard from to this point. He takes a backseat on this one and lets his partner and group deejay, Gizmo shine (hence the song title), as he gets off a quick verse over a sleepy backdrop. And we quickly find out why Milk Dee is the emcee and Giz the deejay.

Whatcha’ Lookin’ At? /Interlude Two – Milk Dee runs into a mesmerized male fan that can’t take his eyes off our host, leaving Milk all the way pissed off as he angrily addresses the male groupie on this record: “I understand you’re a little excited, if you want an autograph, yo, I’ll write it, but don’t stare like you have no sense, or you might get dead, and dead’s past tense, if you see me walkin’ down the street, say “hi” if it’s me that you wanna meet, if not then don’t say jack, keep your eyes to yourself and stay the hell back!” Speaking of pissed and angry, Milk drops a few homophobic slurs that would surely get the LGTBQ community riled up calling for his cancellation if this record came out today (no pun intended). The underlying revamped “Go Brooklyn” chant from “Top Billin’” (which Audio Two borrowed from Stetsasonic’s “Go Stetsa I”) was unnecessary, but the bodaciously arrogant vibes on the instrumental match Milk’s cocky “lay-my-dick on the table” bravado. The track is followed by a skit of Milk using the bathroom while another man (maybe Gizmo?) rushes him to get back in the studio to lay his vocals, while the instrumental for the next song plays in the background.

I Get The Papers – AT revamps the instrumental from “Top Billin’” and Milk Dee uses it to talk more shit. It doesn’t quite recapture the magic from their classic record, but Milk turns in a serviceable performance. If you’re listening to I Don’t Care on vinyl (like me), this song marks the end of side one. If you bought I Don’t Care on CD, the following CD-only bonus track is next…

Milk Does The Body Good (Remix) – Milk turns the catchphrase from a popular eighties milk commercial into a pick-up line/endorsement of his sexual prowess with the ladies. I’m not sure what the O.G. version of this song sounds like, but I sure hope the mix sounds better than this hot mess. Milk’s mic sounds like he rescued it from a lake. And the part of the refrain where Milk says, “the matter on hand” (instead of “at hand”) annoys the shit out of me for some reason.

Start It Up Y’all – MC Lyte and Positive K join Milk Dee for this posse joint, as all three emcees get off a verse over a vibrant instrumental. All parties involved turn in solid verses (imagining MC Lyte in a bikini in 1990 is crazy) with Milk shining a little brighter than his compadres, thanks to his comedic content, which includes a clear out-of-left-field shot at MC Hammer and his female protégés, Oaktown’s 357 (remember them?). It’s not a top-tier posse record, but I was entertained.

When Milk’s On The Mic/Interlude Three – King Of Chill builds this understated funky groove around a looped bassline from Average White Band’s “T.L.C.,” as a fired-up Milk drops another homophobic slur before going for the neck of his competition and adversaries: “I play to win like the New York Yankees, so to all you emcees, I’m handing out hankies, blow your nose, wipe your snot and whatnot, you wish you could get what I give ’cause what I got, red hot, whistles like a teapot, wanna be like me, that’s sayin’ a lot.” This was dope and easily one of the strongest records on the album. The song is followed by the final interlude of the evening that finds a bootleg Robin Harris so frustrated by those with the “I don’t care attitude” that he threatens violence on them (“Put my foot so far in your ass your breath smell like shoe polish”).

Build Up Back Up – The song title is a term Audio Two uses to describe semen build up due to a dry season with the ladies. I don’t think the sexual appetite will ever override the need to eat, as Milk claims during his verse, but I get his exaggerated point. Thanks to his boy K, who sets him up with a young tender, Milk’s condition gets resolved by the end of the song, which bleeds into the next track…

The Nasty – For those under thirty, “The Nasty” was a slang term used for sex back in the late nineteen hundreds. Milk and Giz spend the length of this song talking about the subject in a playful manner (and once again, Milk irritates my ears by saying “on hand” at one point during the record). The Janet Jackson vocal snippet on the hook was a clever touch, but not clever enough to make the bland instrumental sound interesting.

6Teen – This is easily the most uncomfortable record on I Don’t Care. Milk Dee shares an encounter with a young lady, and the two eventually begin to fall for each other. There’s just one problem: Milk was at least twenty years old in 1990, and the young lady, sixteen. After finding out her age, Milk spends the rest of the song contemplating whether or not he should continue dating her, and let’s just say he doesn’t make the most sound legal decision. MC Lyte co-signs Milk’s pedophilic behavior by singing the hook and the instrumental was so insignificant, Milk might as well rapped his story a cappella.

Step – Gizmo gets another solo joint. This time around he’s on a mission to get the listener to dance and party, while Milk plays his hypeman. If you’re listening to I Don’t Care on vinyl, it makes for a pretty pedestrian way to end the album. But if you’re listening to the CD format, you get yet another bonus track…

Many Styles – The fellas loop up some classic Curtis Mayfield to create a pimp strut inducing backdrop, while Milk substitutes his ordinarily animated high-pitched vocal for a suaver tone, but the rhymes are still solid.

If a hip-hop DNA test was given to Milk Dee to determine which emcees in the game he’s fathered, Westside Gunn and Ghostface Killah would come back as 99.999 percent positive matches. Milk’s technique is a hybrid of the two rappers. His animated high-pitched nasally tone is the precursor to Westside’s, while his colorful, wildly random, and energized verbiage is undeniably the predecessor of Ghost’s style. The combination makes Milk’s charismatic banter nearly impossible not to enjoy, as he entertains throughout I Don’t Care.

While Milk Dee’s star shines brightly throughout the album, much of the production sounds like an afterthought, chalked full of low-quality bland and boring instrumentals. Most of the tracks on I Don’t Care sound like demos, begging for a better mix, and the constant revisiting of “Top Billlin’” feels like some form of brainwashing. It’s like a constant looming reminder that they made the classic record, so you should feel obliged to overlook and turn a blind eye to all the flaws and blemishes on this project.

Ultimately, the inferior production and poor mixing that plague I Don’t Care, overshadow Milk Dee’s commendable mastering of the ceremony. Maybe they should have cared more.

-Deedub

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When the hip-hop history books are written, The Jaz, aka Jaz-O will probably be remembered for introducing the world to arguably the greatest (and undisputed most financially successful) emcee of all time, Jay-Z. While he was Jay’s friend, mentor, and entry point into the game, many overlook that he also had a rap career of his own. Ironically, I was introduced to Jaz-O through Jay-Z when he joined Jay and Sauce Money on the classic Premo-produced mafioso posse joint, “Bring It On” from Reasonable Doubt. It would be a few years after “Bring It On” (thanks to Nas’ “Ether”) that I would discover Jaz-O had released a couple of albums and an EP on EMI Records, long before Reasonable Doubt existed: His 1991 EP, Ya Don’t Stop, 1990’s To Your Soul, and his 1989 debut album, Word To The Jaz.

The liner notes for WTTJ credit Jaz, Bryan “Chuck” New, and Pete “Q” Harris for the production. The album made very little noise, nationally and would come and go faster than a sixteen-year-old boy losing his virginity to a hooker in an alley. EMI would give Jaz a couple more chances with To Your Soul and Ya Don’t Stop, both yielding similar commercial results. Along with making a couple of cameos and producing a few tracks on Jay-Z’s nineties batch of albums, Jaz would also produce songs for the likes of Puff Daddy, Rakim, Queen Latifah, M.O.P., Gza, Rass Kass, and Group Home, just to name a few.

The album cover for WTTJ displays Jaz posted up with gold finger rings and a dookie rope gold chain with a Cobra-Spinx medallion around his neck, with a leashed black panther by his side. LL Cool J’s Walking With A Panther album would don a similar cover, with LL squatting next to a black briefcase, while a black panther sits in front of him sporting a gold dookie rope. WTTJ came out a month before WWAP. Were the similarities in the album covers a coincidence or a classic case of biting? I’d love to hear what Jaz and LL have to say about the matter.

Dance To This – Jaz kicks things off with a danceable mid-tempo instrumental and lyrically embarks on a mission to get the listener up to shake that ass. His tone and swag sound a lot different from my introduction to him on “Bring It On,” as he sounds more wholesome than he would later in the mid-nineties. Jaz sounds adequate on the mic and even gives a bite-size sample of the speedy rap style that Jay-Z would use during his early nineties string of cameos. Speaking of Jay-Z, he makes his first appearance of the night, sharing a few words in between Jaz’s verses. It felt kind of odd to hear a hip-hop album start with a low-energy party joint, but it’s still a decent record.

Pumpin’ – Jaz follows up the previous low-energy track with a boost, thanks to a sexy bass line borrowed from KC & The Sunshine Band’s spin on George McCrae’s “I Get Lifted.” It’s worth noting that Big Daddy Kane rapped over the same break from McCrae’s version on “Mortal Combat.” Jaz sounds serviceable over the break, but make no mistake about it, he’s no Kane (who along with MC Shan, Rakim, Chuck D, and KRS-One, Jaz graciously shouts out during his opening verse). Jay-Z makes another minimal contribution to the record, adding a few words in between Jaz’s verses. All in all, another decent record.

Hawaiian Sophie – When Nas mentioned Jay-Z’s “Hawaiian Sophie fame” on “Ether,” at the time, I had no idea what he was talking about. Later, I would find out it was a record on WTTJ, which I also didn’t know existed before Nas’ diss track. The song features Jaz rapping about a trip to Hawaii where he meets and falls for a bangin’ Hawaiian chick named, you guessed it, Sophie. Jaz spends the length of the song trying to win the heart and affection of the Island hottie, but Sophie’s brolic Hawaiian boyfriend (I think it’s her boyfriend, but it’s never clearly confirmed) stands in the way. In true pseudo-masculine barbaric fashion, the two men square up to decide who gets the girl, instead of just asking her who she wants to be with. Other than one or two adlibs (and appearing in the video), Jay-Z’s cameo was just as minimal as his previous contributions on WTTJ, which explains Nas’ tongue-in-cheek reference to his “fame” on this record. Jaz’s storyline is average at best, but I thoroughly enjoyed the Bo Diddley drum loop under the lap steel guitar sample. It sounds like D.C. Go-go crashing a Hawaiian luau.

Give A Little Extra – Our host gets struck by the love bug on this track, and like a man newly in love, he’s prepared and willing to go all out for his new boo. Jaz gets vulnerable during the second verse, recalling a failed relationship with a cheating partner (whose family he hi-lariously puts on blast for being on welfare and using food stamps), and the third verse he uses to give a Sesame Street elementary-level PSA on being faithful to your mate, which comes off corny in a naive kind of way: “Cheaters never win, they live a life of sin, skeezin’ is for heathens, and loyalty’s in…so if you really love someone, cheatin’ ain’t smart, your relationship will tear apart, you’ll break somebody’s heart.” Jaz’s positive message is scored by a loop from The Sylvers’ “Misdemeanor” (the same one Dr. Dre used for The D.O.C.’s classic “It’s Funky Enough”), which sounds cool, but things get choppy during the hook when a second loop from the same record is brought into play.

Fun – Jaz has one goal on this record: to have an unadulterated drama-free good time. His rhymes aren’t spectacular, but his untainted perspective and pure message were refreshing. The Dennis Coffey-aided funk groove, along with the blaring jazzy horn break during the hook were pretty entertaining, though.

Word To The Jaz – If you’re listening to WTTJ on vinyl, this title track marks the end of side one. Our host gets into some good old-fashioned boasting, and I have to admit, I almost clutched my pearls when I heard him drop an F-bomb, as his bars have been relatively clean up to this point. Jaz’s rhymes were passable but other than the tantalizing horn break in between verses, the instrumental was blander than Bobby Blue. Easily the weakest track on side one of the album.

Let’s Play House – In the late eighties/early nineties, house music was all the rave, and several rappers made house-fused hip-hop records. The Jungle Brothers made “I’ll House You,” Queen Latifah gave us “Come Into My House,” De La Soul got “Kicked Out The House,” and MC Shan made sure you knew “It Ain’t A Hip-Hop Record.” You can add this song to that list. Like all the other records that jumped on this trend, this one also feels contrived, but like most of those records in that sub-genre, I enjoyed the fusion.

Boost Up The Family – Jaz gets into his conscious bag, calling for peace, justice, and unity in the Black community, fittingly backing his content with tribal-esque African drums. I dug the message, the instrumental was decent, and I absolutely love the drowsy jazzy horn break brought in during the hook.

Shana – Shana might be the chick that broke Jaz’s heart during the second verse of “Give A Little Extra” (you know, Ms. Welfare). He dedicates this song to the conniving gold digger and cleverly samples The Silhouettes’ fifties doo-wop classic, “Get A Job,” to assist with the music and calling her out by name during the hook. The instrumental feels a little Fresh Prince of Bel-Airish, but it’s a catchy record that will win you over after a few listens.

I Can Dig Rappin’ – Jaz uses this one to discuss the rise of rap music, gives a brief history on the art of rapping (which is severely in need of some fact-checking), and for the second time on the album (the first time came during “Dance To This”) he mentions his former life as a singer that he apparently gave up to become a rapper: “I was once a singer, but I had to renege it, rap is the move today, and I can dig it” (I’ve heard Jaz mention in an interview that he was offered a singing deal with an unnamed label but turned it down. Later, the same label would offer the deal and sign Keith Sweat (I’m going to assume the label was Elektra, as that was Keith’s label home for the fruitful years of his career). You can also hear Jaz sing on the hook to Jay-Z’s “Ain’t No Nigga,” which he’s also credited with producing). Jaz’s rhymes are backed by up-tempo drums, a hyperactive bass line, and a James Brown co-sign on the hook. I could definitely see B-boy gettin’ busy to this one back in ‘89.

Look Out – Over a basic drum beat and a few slight musical accessories, Jaz goes into battle mode, coming “harder than an ex-con,” which makes for a very pausable moment. It’s s not a terrible record, but I wasn’t crazy about it either.

Buss The Speaker – Jaz puts on his clergy collar and steps back on his soapbox to get off an album-closing sermon that charters the same territory as “Boost Up The Family,” and for those keeping track at home, he drops his second F-bomb of the evening: “Fight for justice, peace, and education, non-discrimination, and equal representation, we got the power, so give some resistance, equal opportunity, fuck welfare assistance, purchase from your own and your community too, and in time ya see money come back to you, those in position, you sit on a throne, you’re hiring them, you better hire your own.” Jaz and company create a decent instrumental with their flip of the overly used James Brown sample, and it’s hard to say anything negative about positive content, so I won’t.

As I mentioned during the intro, my introduction to Jaz-O came from Jay-Z’s “Bring It On,” where he was running with “drug dealing apostles,” “bangin’ bitches out the Bahamas,” and never putting “the pure brown sugar before the dirty green cream.” So, I was a bit baffled when I heard him denounce drug dealing and side chicks with the mission statement: “To restore the good thoughts and release the foul” on Word To The Jaz. It almost sounds like life and time tainted his view of the world in the seven years between WTTJ and Reasonable Doubt, or maybe he changed his approach to rhyming as thug drug raps became more popular and lucrative in the mid-nineties.

The wholesome unjaded version of Jaz-O is still a competent emcee, and while there are a few cringe worthy “goody-two-shoes” moments on the album, most of Jaz’s youthful optimism was refreshing to hear, even if it is phony. The back album cover, which shows Jay-Z posing with Jaz and receiving a “special guest appearance” credit, made me believe he was going to give a Ghostface Killah on Only Built 4 Cuban Linx type assist, but he doesn’t even get to spit the half a bar he gave to his adversaries not named Nas or Mobb Deep on “Takeover.” Matter of fact, Jay’s contribution on WTTJ is so minimal that if you sneeze while listening to the album, you could miss it. Even without much help from Jay, Jaz proves to be an efficient enough emcee to carry his own weight on WTTJ, as he does a decent job navigating the bundle of standard eighties east coast hip-hop instrumentals.

Unfortunately, decent and standard will sometimes leave you forgotten. Or remembered for putting someone else on who made a more memorable mark.

-Deedub

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Kwame was a rapper out of Queens, New York, who is probably best known for his dyed blonde Gumby, polka dot clothing, and later, he and his polka dot wears would be notoriously (no pun intended) deemed “played out” by Biggie on his classic, “Unbelievable,” which would basically end Kwame’s career as a rapper. But years before Biggie would deliver that devastating lyrical blow, Kwame would experience moderate success in the industry. He had a few mild hit singles, releasing four albums between 1989 and 1994, including the subject of today’s post, his debut album, Kwame The Boy Genius: Featuring A New Beginning.

The liners notes for Boy Genius credit the legendary and underappreciated, Hurby Luv Bug for producing the entire album, but Kwame is on record saying he produced the whole album himself and Hurby only served as a coach/overseer of the project, mainly because Kwame was only sixteen when the album was released and for business purposes (mainly sales), the label felt Hurby’s name should be on the project (Hurby was red hot at the time, thanks to the success of Salt-N-Pepa and Kid ‘N Play whom he was responsible for producing). Boy Genius didn’t receive any RIAA certifications and peaked at 114 on the US Billboard 200. After his fourth and final album, Incognito, Kwame would switch his alias to K-1 Million and focus strictly on producing. This move would revitalize his music career, as he would go on to produce tracks for the likes of Mary J. Blige, LL Cool J, Lloyd Banks, Will Smith, Janet Jackson, Talib Kweli, Fantasia, Christina Aguilera, and the list goes on and on.

My older brother had Boy Genius on cassette back in the day, so when I came across a used CD copy at one of my spots for the reasonable price of three dollars, nostalgia, and my frugalness moved me to buy it, and here we are.

Random Factoid: Kwame and Vin Diesel are cousins. I’ve never watched one of those mind-numbing Fast & Furious movies, but I did enjoy Boiler Room.

Boy Genius – For the opening track, Hurby Luv Bug, or Kwame, loops up a funky Meters’ break for Kwame to get off, what he claims in the song’s intro to be, “the perfect rap.” It’s far from perfect, but according to his adlibs in between his verses, he typed his rhymes on a typewriter (remember those?), so maybe he meant perfect in a grammatical sense. Either way, it’s a decent opening performance from Kwame and an overall satisfactory introduction to the album.

U Gotz 2 Get Down! – This was the third single released from Boy Genius. Kwame picks up where he left off on the previous track, spewing battle-ready bars, and again, he makes sure to shoutout his Islamic faith. Kwame’s bars are backed by a solid soul sample-driven backdrop that was much more entertaining than our host’s rhymes.

The Rhythm – This was the album’s second single and the main reason I bought Boy Genius. Kwame seems to settle in more on the mic than the previous two tracks, as he efficiently manages this mid-tempo jazzy bop. This one has held up well through the years, and I love the Bob James sample flip. The music video for this song was pretty cute too.

The Man We All Know And Love – This was the lead single from Boy Genius. The music video will forever be etched in my mind, as it got heavy rotation on Jukebox Network back in ‘89 (Bars!). Kwame builds the instrumental around a couple of Rufus Thomas loops and shares three zany adventures about three different women. In the mix of his rhymes, he also manages to sing a little Sesame Street, Louis Jordan, Minnie Riperton and even dips into his white girl fifties pop bag with a reinterpretation of a Debbie Reynolds joint (who also happens to be Carrie “Princess Leia” Fisher’s mother). This record doesn’t sound nearly as entertaining as it did back when I was twelve years old. Time is, truly, Illmatic.

The Mic Is Mine – Some samples are just foolproof, and the opening guitar riff from Kool & The Gang’s “More Funky Stuff” is one of them. Kwame places the twangy funk guitar licks over an ill Funk, Inc. drum break to form a pretty incredible instrumental to rap over. The music must have sparked something within Kwam’s soul as he sounds more convincing than he’s sounded all night and gets off a few witty bars along the way: “I turn any penny into the Latin Quarter,” “Let me on the mic and make the party dance, I take no shorts cause I’m the smarty pants.” It also sounds like he may have taken indirect shots at Rakim (“You move a crowd, brother, I move an audience”) and Big Daddy Kane (“You was a tough cookie, to me you a crumb” (Kane called himself “one tough cookie on “I Get The Job Done,” although, It’s A Big Daddy Thing came out eight months after Boy Genius, poking all types of holes in my theory)).

Keep On Doin’ (What You’re Doin’ Baby) – Mid.

PushThePanicButton!!! – More mid, and the only song on Boy Genius that Kwame curses on. For those curious, the curse is “asshole.”

Sweet Thing – Kwame wraps up Boy Genius with a remake of the Chaka Khan/Rufus classic of the same name. Our host confuses infatuation with love for a chick he’s known all of one week, spending his three verses dropping cheesy cliches and corny one-liners (Why the hell is he writing this chick’s name on his bedroom wall?). The rhymes were disposable, but the soulful instrumentation was kind of dope.

Kwame doesn’t sound like a typical sixteen-year-old on Boy Genius. When I think of other teenage rappers who released their debut albums around the same age, like Shyheim The Rugged Child, Chi-Ali, and Illegal, their voices still had the squeaky pre-puberty residue. While Kwame’s voice doesn’t boom with the power of a Chuck D or come with a rich baritone like Big Daddy Kane, something about his slightly raspy tenor vocal tone sounds mature beyond its sixteen years. But maturity doesn’t necessarily equate to skills.

That’s not to say Kwame doesn’t have talent. I appreciate his lighthearted approach to rhyming, his clean content, and his ability to express his faith without wearing his religion on his sleeve. He’s a decent emcee and lyricist, who was clearly influenced by the legendary Big Daddy Kane, but his rhymes and voice don’t pack the same punch to deliver that knockout blow like the former. The production on Boy Genius follows the standard James Brown-esque sampling format that was so prevalent in East Coast hip-hop in the late eighties, and while it’s not spectacular, it is efficient, and much more entertaining than Kwame’s rhymes.

On “U Gotz 2 Get Down!” Kwame raps “I rock break beats, but none of them get broken. In a nutshell, that explains our host’s performance on Boy Genius, though not the way he intended.

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-Deedub

Todd “Too Short” Shaw is just as important to Oakland culture as the Golden State Warriors and the Oakland Raiders. I know that both teams have relocated from Oakland, but just like Short who left Oakland for Atlanta in the nineties, all three entities remain deeply ingrained in Oakland’s soil and consciousness even in their absence. Too Short’s admiration isn’t limited to Oakland, though. His respect in the game stretches from coast to coast and all points in between. He’s collaborated with most of your favorite rappers, including Ice Cube, Snoop, Scarface, Biggie, Jay-Z. Hell, he even made the Midnight Marauders album cover (Tribe Degrees of Separation: check). That kind of respect doesn’t come overnight, as the saying goes: you have to earn respect. Short’s been earning his respect, dating back to the eighties, which is the same decade he released the subject of today’s post, Life Is…Too Short.

Life Is…Too Short is the second album Too Short released after signing with Jive Records and would mark the beginning of his incredible six consecutive platinum selling album stretch. Produced entirely by Too Short with help from R. Austin, T. Bohanon, and Al Eaton, Life Is would climb to number thirty-seven on the US Billboard 200. It would also reach the two million units sold mark, and sixteen albums and thirty-five years later, it’s still Short’s best-selling album to date. In 2022, Rolling Stone placed Life Is at 186 on their list of the 200 Greatest Hip-Hop Albums of All Time.

Life Is comes with some pretty gaudy stats, but here at TimeIsIllmatic, we’re more concerned with quality and the music’s ability to stand the test of time. So, without further ado, let me do what I do.

Life Is… Too Short – There’s nothing like opening an album with the title track, which in this case was also the album’s lead single. Our host could have gone super narcissistic with the title and rapped about the world revolving around him. Instead, he builds around the original cliché saying, discussing the value of life, those who despise it, waste it, take it for granted, and cherish it. Short also talks about the motivating factor in his own life: money. As usual, Sir Too Short drops a few jewels off along the way and sounds right at home rhyming over the rubbery funk groove, built around a couple of loops from Average White Band’s “School Boy Crush.” This record still goes hard.

Rhymes – Todd follows up the infectious funk groove on the previous track with arguably the barest and most basic drumbeat ever heard by the human ear. He raps for four-plus minutes with no breaks or hooks and manages to get off a few clever bars, but his monotone voice and fundamental flow don’t sound flattering over the scarce beat.

I Ain’t Trippin’ – Our host transforms into “Sleepy Short” for this track as he shares some of his musical bio and brushes off his haters and naysayers, while rapping in a whisper of a voice that sounds like he just woke up: “Benzes roll, Beamers jet, and Caddies keep on dippin’, you keep talkin’ all that crap…and I ain’t trippin’.” Sleepy Short does a serviceable job on the mic, but the darkly tinted bouncy bass line (that reminds me of the bass line from his future classic, “Blow The Whistle”) is the true star of the track. Side note: Fellow Oakland native and comedian, Mark “Hangin’ With Mr. Cooper” Curry plays one of Short’s haters in the music video, spewing comical hate and rumors in between Short’s verses of the single/radio mix.

Nobody Does It Better – Short and company chef up a slow-rolling backdrop built around Tinker Bell drums and a suffocated vibrating bass line. Our host uses it to continue to talk his shit as he boasts, calls out a few of his West Coast contemporaries for using “New York slang” (he doesn’t give names, which left me wonder who he could be referring to in 1988), and gives a brief and very random PSA about smoking dope, square in the middle of the song. The instrumental feels underdeveloped, making it really easy to lose interest in Short’s flat vocal tone.

Oakland – Sleepy Short makes his return for this ode to his hometown. Maybe Seductive Short is a better description, as our host puts on his bedroom voice to recite a repetitive spoken word love poem to the Bay area city he represents. Short gets a little assistance from an adlibbing talk box voice and a few uncredited ladies who sensually chant “Oakland” and “Oaktown” during the hook, making Oakland sound like the sexiest city in the world. The sparkling, pristine backdrop makes things sound even more appealing.

Don’t Fight The Feelin’ – During “Nobody Does It Better,” Too Short raps “I know you wanna hear my triple X, foul language, girls and sex.” This song provides that portion of his fanbase exactly what they paid admission for. Short & Co. loop up One Way’s record of the same name, creating a thick infectious funk groove as our host transforms into Playboy Short and gets deep into his misogyny bag. Throughout his three verses, our vertically challenged host shoots aggressively direct shots at a few females in his scope. His targets (Entice and Barbie of The Danger Zone, who remind me of the rapping twins from Coming To America (“My name is Peaches and I’m the best, all the deejays want to feel my breast”)) shoot down his attempts and clap back, making several references to his alias being related his dick size and not being adequate enough to please them. The cruelest diss of the whole record comes when Entice and Barbie suggest that Short’s mom should have killed him at birth (their exact words are “Your mother should have hung you from her umbilical cord”). Rappin’ 4 Tay randomly drops in to add a verse and share his two cents in this explicit battle of the sexes, turning an already long affair into an eight-minute and change affair, but an entertaining one.

CussWords – Too Short follows up the previous eight-minute raunch fest with another nearly eight-minute track. Like “Rhymes,” Short disregards a hook and spends seven minutes and forty-five seconds spewing all kinds of randomness, including a shot at Ronald Reagan, claims that Nancy Reagan gave him head (along with some random chicks named Helen and Betty), a plethora of bitches, hoes, and pimp references, and a few bars aimed at wack emcees. He also gets off what might be one of my favorite Too Short rhymes: “People out here droppin’ dead like flies, I used to see a homeboy, give him five, now I say, “Man, you still alive?” And I laugh every time I listen to his song-ending tirade, where he lets off a couple of wicked combination of curses. Despite the generic instrumental, I enjoyed Short’s simple but entertaining rhymes.

City Of Dope – On “Oakland,” Too Short paid homage to his hometown, framing it in a glimmering desirable light. This record shows the dark side of Oaktown, as Todd addresses the crack epidemic that rattled his city like it did most large urban areas in the eighties. Short’s bleak content is backed by a deep semi-twangy funk groove that sounds custom-made for Short’s straightforward flow and is just as addictive as the dope he raps about.

Pimp The Ho – Short adapts an uncharacteristically aggressive tone for this one as he and the team loop up a few sexy Cameo guitar loops for our host to go for the jugular of wack emcees and put the strong pimp hand down on his bitches.

Hidden Track – The album ends with this hidden outro, which is nothing more than a promo to get the listener to go buy Too Short’s 1987 Jive Records debut, Born To Mack. Short brings back the drums from “Life Is… Too Short” and a couple of his vocal snippets (one saying “Too Short,” the other “I was born to mack”) are scratched into the record. There is absolutely no reason to listen to this track more than once. And why do the drums sound so damn janky?

The 1989 reissue of Life Is… Too Short (which I also own a copy of) removed “Don’t Fight The Feelin’,” “CussWords,” and the “Hidden Track” and added the following two songs:

Mack Attack – Short Dog recaptures a portion of the energy he flowed with on “Pimp The Ho,” as the mack goes on the attack, rapping his ass off and lyrically slapping up all hoes and foes in his path without dropping one curse. The instrumental is decent (the bass line sounds very similar to the one used on “I Ain’t Trippin’), but Short easily outshines the music. This is probably Short’s best lyrical performance of the album. Too bad it wasn’t included on the original pressing of Life Is.

Alias Crazy Rak – Too Short graciously gives his deejay Crazy Rak a chance to shine dolo. And what does he do with the opportunity? He places pedestrian cuts over a simple drumbeat, resulting in a simply boring record.

I’m sure there’s a segment of the hip-hop population that aren’t Too Short fans, and I can understand why. The misogyny that’s often associated with his name may deter some ladies from listening to his music. His rudimentary flow and non-complex rhyme schemes might not be the cup of tea that satisfies the taste buds of some. Then there’s his deadpan delivery that could easily be perceived as monotonous. But like Short says during “Mack Attack”: “When it’s Too Short baby, ain’t nothin’ plain.” Using his “ordinary” skills to make entertaining music has been Short’s magical superpower throughout his career, and some of that magic shows up on Life Is…Too Short.

The album cover for Life Is shows Too Short perched behind John “Sucka MC” Doe’s tombstone (it also hi-lariously reads: “BORN: ON STAGE DIED: ON WAX”), which is fitting as Short spends half the album spewing boasts and battle raps. The other half of the album focuses on social commentary and, of course, the Prime Minister of Misogyny gets into his ministry for a few joints. Too Short’s bars are backed by a bed of head bobbin’ stank face-inducing funk grooves, which is the secret weapon that has made Short’s music so enduring through the years. With two of the album’s ten tracks coming in at eight minutes, and three more reaching the six-minute mark, our host definitely didn’t get his alias due to the length of his tracks. Still, at just under fifty-five minutes, the album feels like the perfect runtime, not too long or…too short. *rimshot*

There are a few dry moments on Life Is, but overall, it’s a solid album from one of hip-hop’s most beloved rappers. Beeatch! Sorry, I couldn’t resist.

-Deedub

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