Time Is Illmatic

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

Follow me on Instragram@damontimeisillmatic

My introduction to N.W.A. came through the lead single and title song from their album, Straight Outta Compton. Thanks to the Jukebox Network (for you youngins, Jukebox Network was a channel you could call and request to see your favorite music video for a small fee), the menacing mob dressed in all black, reppin’ Compton, jumped through my television screen and bumrushed my parents’ living room throughout the summer of 1988 with the album’s title track. Their gangsta persona, mixed with their violently brash rhymes backed by unsettling sirens and threatening drums, created an audio-visual experience that scared the shit out of me but also left me deeply intrigued. But before Straight Outta Compton existed, there was NWA And The Posse.

N.W.A. And The Posse is the official unofficial debut album from N.W.A. It’s a compilation project, originally released in 1987 by Macola Records (which was a small Los Angeles-based music label/distributor) featuring songs from N.W.A. and a few of their friends: The Fila Fresh Crew, Ron-De-Vu, and Arabian Prince, with all the production credit going to Dr. Dre. After the success of their first release on the Ruthless imprint, Straight Outta Compton (which reached platinum success just over a year after its release), Ruthless, with Priority as the distributor, would re-release NATP in 1989 with a few alterations to the track list, which is the version that I own (I’ll get more into the alterations later). The re-release cash grab worked for Ruthless, as NATP would earn a gold plaque in April of 1994.

Like me, I’m sure most of you didn’t know this album existed until well after SOC. And some of you probably didn’t know this album existed until now reading this write-up. Either way, I hope you enjoy walking with me through it as I experience it for the first time.

RIP to Eric “Eazy E” Wright and shoutout to Candyman for making the album cover. And why did they cover up DJ Train’s face like that?

Boyz-N-The Hood – The album starts with an Eazy-E solo joint. Mr. Wright spits what feels like twenty verses (it’s really only five), spinning serious subject matter into zany tales that cover everything from him killing his friend-turned-thieving fiend, domestic violence, and an angry chick shooting up a courtroom in an attempt to free her man who’s in police custody. Eric’s dark comedic hood antics are backed by a primitive drumbeat, a squeaky synth chord, and an aggressive guitar riff that was clearly influenced by LL’s “Rock The Bells.” The musical highlight comes in the form of a thunderous drum break during the hook, which sounds like it might have inspired The Neptunes’ “Grindin’” instrumental. Side note: The remix for this record was included on Eazy’s 1988 solo debut, Eazy-Duz-It, with the same instrumental but a new intro and an extra verse, adding an additional minute to the track’s runtime.

8 Ball – This record completes an album-opening Eazy-E double play. Our Jheri curled host sends this ode to his drink of choice, a vodka/Olde English concoction affectionately called 8-Ball. He starts things off with a subtle shot at the Beastie Boys and their “Brass Monkey” record (which rapped praises to their favorite libation, Olde E mixed with orange juice), then proceeds to get lit on 8-Ball and wreak havoc through the streets of Compton. Ironically, Dre’s trunk-rattling backdrop sounds influenced by the production sound of the very man who produced the Beastie Boys’ License To Ill album, Rick Rubin. N.W.A. would put the remix of this record on the Straight Outta Compton album, which pretty much uses the same instrumental, but Eazy’s rhymes are much dirtier. And shout out to Eazy for shouting out his ghostwriter, Ice Cube, on the final verse. If you tell the truth, they can’t use it against you later.

Dunk The Funk – Dre tops clunky drums with regally triumphant sounding synth chords as two-thirds of The Fila Fresh Crew, Doc-T (better known as The D.O.C.), and Fresh K make their first appearance of the evening. The D.O.C. shows glimpses of the monster emcee he would transform into a few years later on No One Can Do It Better, easily outshining Fresh K and Dre’s decent instrumental (the “Bombs away!” vocal snippet on the hook gets annoying as hell very fast).

A Bitch Iz A Bitch – Ice Cube makes his first appearance of the night, putting on his misogynist hat as he raps his definition of a “bitch,” which in a nutshell is a stuck-up, bougie gold diggin’ female who thinks her shit don’t stink. Cube hi-lariously clarifies that “the title bitch don’t apply to all women, but all women have a little bitch in ‘em.” Dre borrows the drums and a bass line from Joe Tex’s “Papa Was Too” to complete this playfully entertaining listen. Side note: The Macola pressing of NATP had a record called “Scream,” performed by the duo, Rappinstine and Microphone Mike (he would later change his moniker to Myka 9 that some of you may know from the Los Angeles-based collective, Freestyle Fellowship). The Ruthless reissue would remove “Scream” and replace it with “A Bitch Is A Bitch.” I’ve listened to “Scream” on YouTube a few times, and Ruthless made a wise decision by making that alteration.

Drink It Up – TFFC returns to center stage for this one. After a short Richard Pryor vocal snippet about winos, Dre interpolates “Twist And Shout” over 808 drums that The D.O.C. uses to amusingly croon about getting drunk, mimicking the screaming singing style that Ronald Isley used on The Isley Brothers 1962 rendition of the song (that John Lennon would copycat on The Beatles’ interpretation of the same song a year later). It’s a cute record that might provide a little comic relief the first few listens but not much after that.

Panic Zone – Dr. Dre cooks up a brilliant techno-electro groove that I’m sure was a sheer delight for West Coast poppers and lockers when it came out in the eighties. Arabian Prince (with an assist from Krazy Dee) hosts this three-and-half-minute trance-inducing experience, talking the listener through the frightening audio area that sounds like a darker version of “Planet Rock” on steroids.

L.A. Is The Place – Over pulsating drums and another hard guitar loop that sounds very similar to the one used on “Boyz-N-The-Hood,” Eazy-E and Ron-De-Vu express their love and admiration for Los Angeles. It’s not a terrible record, but no need to listen to it more than once.

Dope Man – This one begins with a crack fiend knocking on a drug dealer’s door (rightfully played by Eazy) in hopes of scoring a hit. Their exchange quickly gets interrupted by some man demanding that Dre “Kick in the bass!” and he gladly obliges. Along with the bangin’ bass line comes monster drums and the classic Ohio Players “Funky Worm” siren loop. After that incredible break, Ice Cube uses the next three verses to matter-of-factly break down the lifestyle of a dope dealer and some of the crackheads he serves. Cube also leaves room at the end of the third verse for the dope dealer (Eazy-E) to offer a rebuttal for “messin’ up people’s health.” Eazy gives no real justification and basically doubles down on his devilish deeds, selfishly boasting about the benefits that being a street pharmacist brings him (mainly money and pussy). Side note: The remix was included on Straight Outta Compton, which is pretty much the same as the original mix, minus the monster “Funky Worm” break, which adds an extra layer of hardness to the record.

Tuffest Man Alive – The D.O.C. goes dolo and throughout two verses, rips Dre’s bareboned drumbeat to shreds, leaving nothing left for Fresh K to do but talk shit to wack emcees at the end of the record like a little brother to his bully after his big bro knocked him out for stealing his little bro’s lunch money. This was hard. I have to add The Fila Fresh Crew’s Tuffest Man Alive EP to my want list.

Fat Girl – Eazy-E and Ron-De-Vu return as Ron provides a weak beatbox for Eazy to “tell you a tale bout this big fat hippo.” Eazy’s rhymes clearly poke fun at the big girl he raps about, but the beatbox feels like a subtle poke at the Fat Boys. There is no way this record would see the light of day in the ultra-sensitive climate we live in today. Unless, of course, Eazy’s rap was about a fat boy.

3 The Hard Way – N.W.A. and the Posse keep the jokes coming as the album ends with The D.O.C. playfully calling out three individuals: The Bad Breath Bandit, Promiscuous Tammy, and Sour Smelling Sue. The D.O.C. isn’t really known for comedic raps, and while I still prefer the stern fire-spittin’ version of our host, his lighthearted bars were slightly entertaining. I can’t say the same for Dre’s minuscule instrumental, though.

As I mentioned in the opening of this post, my introduction to N.W.A. was the Straight Outta Compton album. Our bad-attitude hosts spent most of SOC flexing their gangsta bravado, but it also had a decent share of playful banter. On N.W.A. And The Posse, the focus is reversed as it shows traces of the hardcore gangsta energy from the former, but most of the album is spent joking and partying. The frat-like festivities are led by Eazy-E, The D.O.C., and Ice Cube, as at least one of them appears on ten of the albums’ eleven tracks with Eazy entertaining as the gangsta prankster, while Cube and The Doc show early signs of the sharp emcees they would become in the near future (and despite the sticker on the album cover that advertises features from MC Ren, he never shows up to the party). On the production side, it’s clear Dre was still searching for his musical identity, as a large chunk of his work sounds like knockoff early Def Jam Rick Rubin beats. But even “soul-searching” Dre manages to catch a few bangers.

There’s an old saying, “To know your future, you must know your past,” and another popular one is “You have to know the past to understand the present.” Neither of those quotes really apply to this write-up, but I felt moved to say them, anyway. NATP is not a stellar compilation or essential listening, but it is a decent precursor to their landmark follow-up, and it gives an interesting glimpse into the beginning stages of some of hip-hop’s most legendary contributors.

-Deedub

Follow me on Instragram@damontimeisillmatic

There’s an old saying that laughter is the best medicine, and scientific evidence supports that claim. It’s been proven that laughing enhances your oxygen-rich air intake, increases the endorphins released by your brain, stimulates your heart, lungs, and muscles, helps relieve stress, and can improve your overall emotional state and mood. This medication comes in many different forms: a good joke, when an old incident suddenly pops into your head, brutally honest comments from the mouths of babies, a look, a gesture, and sometimes, a song. Since its inception, hip-hop has provided numerous comedic rappers looking to heal the listener’s soul (or earn a buck) through the healing virtues of laughter. The Fresh Prince, Biz Markie, Flava Flav, Ol’ Dirty Bastard, Redman, D12. And even more recently, emcees like Danny Brown and Lil Dicky. But way before any of these jokesters would grace the genre, the OGs of hip-hop court jesters, Fat Boys, would lay the funny foundation.

The Fat Boys were a three-man team (comprised of Mark “Prince Markie Dee” Morales, Damon “Kool Rock-Ski” Wimbley, and Darren “Buffy” Robinson, aka The Human Beat Box) who met as teens growing up in Brooklyn, New York. Legend has it that the trio met and bonded by playing football in the Brooklyn streets and eventually began rapping, formed a group, and called themselves the Disco 3. While most groups had emcees and a deejay, what set the Disco 3 apart was their secret weapon, Buffy The Human Beat Box, who was not only the group’s deejay but could create beats with his mouth. Buffy’s unique ability would help the Disco 3 stand out in a crowd and eventually would help them win a talent show in The Bronx with a record deal as the grand prize. The teenage trio would sign a deal with Sutra Records, change the group name to Fat Boys, releasing their eponymous debut album in May of 1984, with the album cover displaying a pic of the threesome holding a pizza, hamburger, soda, and ice cream to reinforce their self-deprecating “fatso clown” image. It all worked, as the album would earn the Fat Boys their first gold plaque. They would return the following year, simply titling the album The Fat Boys Are Back.

Like their debut, TFBAB would be entirely produced by Kurtis Blow (who was also the first rapper to earn a gold plaque with his 1980 single, “The Breaks.” That stat might deserve an asterisk next to it, as The Sugarhill Gang’s “Rapper’s Delight,” released nine months before “The Breaks,” has sold well over five hundred thousand copies, but because Sugar Hill Records co-founder Joe Robinson refused to pay for an RIAA membership, the record was never certified). TFBAB would peak at sixty-three on the US Billboard 200 and earn the chunky crew their second consecutive gold plaque.

The Fat Boys would release five more albums between 1986 and 1991, with two earning gold certifications, before the trio decided to go their separate ways. Prince Markie Dee would go on to write for the likes of Shabba Ranks and Mary J. Blige (he helped pen her classic single, “Real Love”) and would experience moderate success with his solo career, releasing two albums, Free in ‘92 and Love Daddy in ‘95. Sadly, Buffy would pass away at the tender age of twenty-eight in December of ‘95. In 2021, Prince Markie would pass, leaving Kool Rock-Ski as the lone surviving member.

I bought a used vinyl copy of TFBAB a few months ago. Let’s jump into it and see how it’s held up over the years.

The Fat Boys Are Back! – The FBs kick off the album with this title track (which was also the lead single) as they celebrate their return to the mic with large amounts of gluttony. Mr. Blow provides a cheesy synth canvas with the perfect dosage of zaniness to match Prince Markie Dee and Kool Rock-Ski’s whimsical brags and boasts of eating and drinking themselves into a food coma. Buffy gets off a beatbox during the final verse, and a few uncredited ladies sing the hook to round out this musical in food buffoonery.

Don’t Be Stupid – Our hosts follow up their hijinks on the opening track with far more serious content on this one. Markie Dee and Rock-Ski outline three cautionary tales (a bank robbery, the abduction of big booty Judy, and a gambleholic) about making bad decisions. Even though the rhymes sound primitive, I can appreciate the message, and the aggressive guitar riffs and tough bass line were semi-dope.

Human Beat Box Part II – Part one was on the Fat Boys’ debut album, featuring Buffy as the main attraction, providing the music with his mouth while Markie Dee and Rock-Ski rapped praises to his beatboxing abilities. Part two follows the same format and yields the same middling results, but I’m sure Buffy’s beatboxing sounded more impressive live than on record.

Yes, Yes, Y’all – The FBs wrap up side one of the album (if you’re listening to it on vinyl) with this lighthearted joint. Kurtis lays down cool drum claps accompanied by a few simple but effective synth chords as the trio each gets off a verse. Buffy kicks things off with a rare verse (and it quickly becomes clear why he’s usually regulated to only beatbox duties), followed by a random nonsensical story about The Incredible Hulk from Markie Dee, and Rock-Ski closes things out with passable braggadocious bars. Mr. Blow’s backing music is easily the most entertaining part of this record.

Hard Core Reggae – Side two of TFBAB begins with a slow-rolling reggae-flavored track, lined with a thick hypnotic bass line that Markie Dee and Rock-Ski use to take turns paying homage to some of reggae’s pioneers. Markie Dee sounds absolutely horrible on the first verse, sloppily talking his way through it as he lists some of the genre’s greats. Rock-Ski fares a little better but struggles to find a pocket and sounds uncomfortable over the beat; he does add a dope MOP-esque adlib that I’m shocked Premo hasn’t scratched into a record at some point over the past thirty-plus years (“Sit ‘em down…shoot ‘em up…sit ’em down…shoot em up!”). This record has great intent with poor execution. The instrumental was solid, though.

Pump It Up – The first twenty-five seconds or so of this track sounds like a goofy Three Stooges skit. Then Kurtis Blow drops a shiny and smooth groove backed by a subtly funky bass line, as Markie Dee and Rock-Ski shoutout a few of their peers, boast a bit but mainly use it to spew feel-good party rhymes. And, of course, they leave room for Buffy to get off a few beatboxes that feel a bit forced. Much like the previous track, Kurtis Blow’s production is the star of this record. Side note: The Fat Boys performed this song in the movie Krush Groove, which hit theaters about four months after TFBAB was released.

Fat Boys’ Scratch – When he wasn’t fulfilling his role as the group’s resident Human Beat Box, Buffy would transform into the group’s deejay, Doctor Nice. Over a basic drum beat, Markie Dee and Rock-Ski talk up Buffy’s deejay skills, only for him to disappoint with pedestrian scratches and cuts. It was such a pedestrian performance that Kurtis Blow fell asleep during the session, according to Markie Dee’s closing adlibs.

Rock-N-Roll – The Fat Boys close the album with another short goofy interlude before the rock guitar- fueled backdrop comes in for Markie and Rock to get off one last round of lackluster boasts and battle raps. Buffy manages to sneak in a beatbox bridge that sounds completely out of place. I wonder if Kurtis Blow’s rock-fused instrumental was the catalyst for Run DMC’s collab with Aerosmith in remaking their hit record, “Walk This Way,” the following year. Hmmm…

I went into listening to The Fat Boys Are Back with very low expectations. Even though I’ve never listened to a Fat Boys album in its entirety before this, I’m familiar with enough of their songs to gather a decent idea of what audio experience a full album from the weighty crew would sound like. I got exactly what I expected from the Fat Boys with this album, yet the album exceeded my expectations. Allow me to explain…

Prince Markie Dee would become a much better rhymer after leaving the Fat Boys and starting his solo career, but during his Fat Boys stent, he and Rock-Ski were far from lyrical monsters. In fact, they are the epitome of the elementary rhyming from the early eighties that I find so hard to listen to today. Overly simplistic rhymes, a few beatbox solos, and a touch of slapstick comedy are what I anticipated and received from our heavy hosts, but Kurtis Blow’s production was a bit of a surprise. I wasn’t necessarily blown away by Kurtis’ production (no pun intended). However, when you mentally set the bar as low as I did for this album, just one mediocre instrumental is enough to exceed expectations. To my surprise, Mr. Blow was able to chef up not only one but four instrumentals that range from decent to solid, giving TFBAB some redeemable value.

The Fat Boys should be applauded for their contribution to showing that hip-hop music could be a commercially viable art form, loved and embraced by fans around the globe. The irony is over time, their fat shtick and mediocre music have left questions about their authenticity and loomed much larger. Pun intended.

-Deedub

Follow me on Instragram@damontimeisillmatic

When it comes to this blog, I try my damnedest to keep things in chronological order. But since I’m often adding old and even older albums to my collection, that’s not always feasible. Take, for instance, my journey through Whodini’s catalog, which has been all over the place. I remember hearing Whodini’s music on the radio, blaring through my older siblings’ stereo speakers, and on music video shows throughout the eighties. But the first Whodini album I purchased was a used CD copy of their third release, Back In Black, sometime in the mid-2000s. Five years ago or so, I would discover a used vinyl copy of their self-titled debut album, and a couple of years later, I’d stumble upon a used CD copy of their fifth release, Bag-A-Trix. About six months ago, while perusing the used vinyl bins at one of my favorite record stores (shout out to Cheapos!), I came across Whodini’s sophomore effort and the subject of today’s post, Escape.

Whodini’s entire eponymous debut album was recorded in Europe (one part at Battery Studios in London, UK, the other part at Can Studios in Weilerswist, Germany) and produced by Thomas Dolby, Conny Plank, and the production team, who curiously called themselves the Willesden Dodgers (comprised of Nigel Green, Richard Jon Smith, and Pete Q. Harris). For Escape, Whodini would return to Battery Studios to record the entire album, but this time around, they would put the production keys solely in the hands of Larry Smith, who had just finished producing Run DMC’s landmark debut album, which dropped seven months before Escape’s release and was well on his way to becoming hip-hop’s first super producer. Escape would produce four singles, climb to thirty-five on the Billboard Top 200, and earn Whodini their first gold certification (it would reach platinum status a few years later). Escape would also be the second consecutive Whodini album to disrespectfully omit the third member and group deejay, Grandmaster D, from the album cover. Bastards.

While we celebrate the fiftieth birthday of hip-hop, I would like to thank John “Ecstasy” Fletcher for his contribution to this great genre. Continue to rest easy.

Five Minutes Of Funk – Escape begins with Jalil and Ecstasy mixing boasts with party rhymes, while Larry Smith blends synth horns with lurking ominous melodic chords and a monster bass line, resulting in a five-minute funk masterpiece (a courtesy computer-voiced host kindly counts down the song each minute of the way). I remember this song from way back, and nearly forty years later, it sounds just as great as I remembered it.

Freaks Come Out At Night – This was the second single released from Escape. Ecstasy and Jalil discuss and describe the freaks that roam the New York City streets and clubs, excuse me, discos after the sun goes down. Beware of this colorful-haired, tightly clothed, one glove-wearing bunch, who, according to Ecstasy, also make for “real good lovers.” Whodini’s playful case study is backed by Mr. Smith’s cool funk groove. All the “hut-hut” adlibs during the hook and tail end of the track were kind of weird (maybe they were trying to draw the beat offside?), but not weird enough to distract from the undeniable classicness of this record.

Featuring Grandmaster Dee – Don’t let the song title fool you. This ain’t nothing but the instrumental version of “Five Minutes Of Funk.”

Big Mouth – This was the third single released from Escape. Whodini dedicates this one to all those people who love to spread lies, rumors, and your business: “They call you Mouth Almighty, tongue everlastin’, you ain’t satisfied unless somethin’s happenin’, you don’t have to be there no more than a minute, but you always got to have your two cents in it, so to all you big mouths, this jam’s for you, somethin’ else you could run and go tell your crew.” Jalil and Ecstasy’s relatable commentary has held up much better than the vacant instrumental that backs it.

Escape (I Need A Break) – If you’re listening to Escape on vinyl, this title track (which was also the fourth and final single) marks the beginning of side two. Jalil uses the first two verses to vent, addressing his frustrations with his job (that he’s been working at for three years without a vacation, and he hi-lariously claims, “Until I got this job, I never used to curse”), his friends, and girlfriend (“She wants diamonds, furs, and now she wants kids, but what she needs is somewhere else to live”), yearning to get away from it all. Ecstasy, being the good friend that he is, offers his partner some great practical advice on the song’s final verse: find a new job, leave your girl, and immerse yourself in the music. Larry Smith backs the duo’s well-executed mental health message with an energized bass line and strong chord progressions to fill out the instrumental. Well done, fellas.

Friends – This was the second single released from Escape and is arguably the biggest hit in Whodini’s catalog. Whodini addresses the importance of having quality friends and gives a few examples of inferior ones. More impressive than Jalil and Ecstasy’s content is Larry Smith’s monster synth backdrop that has stood Teflon strong through time, so much so that the Trackmasters would rework it twelve years later for Nas’ hit record, “If I Ruled The World (Imagine That).” This is a certified classic and the older I get, the more the message resonates.

Out Of Control – A decent instrumental track with a few dramatic musical stabs, wild drum breaks, discreet harmony, and a reoccurring dialogue between the trio trying to escape from some unidentified place. I could hear this working for a scene in Beverly Hills Cop, which coincidentally also came out in 1984.

We Are Whodini – Just in case you listened to the entire album and still didn’t realize who you were listening to, Whodini reminds you on the album’s closing track. The repetitive talk box voice repeating the song title during the verses and the hook from the beginning to the end of the record is mildly annoying, but Mr. Smith’s borderline cheesy instrumental grows on you with each listen. During the final verse, Ecstasy proclaims Whodini as the “Pied Pipers of the 1980s,” and he and Jalil’s swag and confident boasts live up to that title on this record.

I’ll be honest with y’all. I find many of the early eighties hip-hop records hard to listen to, which I’m sure has everything to do with my coming of hip-hop age during the late eighties and early nineties. Some of the elementary rhymes and overly simplistic deliveries used during that era are almost cringe-worthy today, but an even bigger issue I have with many of the records from that era is the production. Before sampling became the backbone and bloodline of hip-hop music, many early records relied heavily on basic drum machine beats and amateurish keyboard chords to create the soundscape. Unfortunately, many of these records have aged poorly and now sound scarce, empty, and cheesy. I’m not shittin’ on the pioneers of this revolutionary musical genre that was created with ingenuity and limited resources. The Tesla would not be a possibility without first the creation of the Model-T, but I’ll be dammed if I’m caught driving one of those prehistoric tin cans on wheels. On the other hand, some classic cars have stood the test of time: the Ford Mustang, Chevy Corvette, Dodge Charger, ’64 Chevy Impala, and the Porsche 911. Likewise, some early eighties hip-hop records have aged well, like Escape.

Whodini has always been ahead of the curve when it comes to layered musical schemes, dating back to their 1983 self-titled debut album. That tradition continues on Escape, as Larry Smith maestro’s a batch of quality synth instrumentals that competently merge melodious with minimalism. Ecstasy and Jalil complement the production well, as they confidently and charismatically navigate through the instrumentals with refreshing content and commentary, finding the perfect balance of silly and serious. While Whodini had a few dope records, all eight tracks on Escape are solid at minimum, and at least three of them are nuke bombs (“5 Minutes Of Funk,” “Freaks Come Out At Night,” and “Friends”) that would cause just as much destruction if thrown on today as they did damn nearly forty years ago.

I’ve now listened to four of Whodini’s six albums, and without ever hearing Open Sesame or Six, I’m willing to proclaim Escape as Whodini’s finest hour. It is the audio equivalent of the Mustang. Corvette. Charger. ’64 Impala. Porsche 911. It’s a fine bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon that has aged well and tastes deliciously smooth today. Cheers!

-Deedub

Follow me on Instragram@damontimeisillmatic

It’s coming a little late, but finally, the best and worst of 1996! In the next few weeks, I’ll begin diving into a handful of housekeeping items before jumping into 1997. In the meantime, enjoy the read, and then celebrate hip-hop’s 50th birthday by listening to your favorite hip-hop album.

Worst Moniker: Cockni O’Dire (featured throughout House Of Pain’s Truth Crushed To Earth Shall Rise Again) – The Irish styled name in itself sounds amusing, but the fact that the alias is donned by a Black reggae artist makes it hi-larious. The first Black leprechaun.

Honorable Mentions:

D.V. Alias Khrist (Sometimes spelled “Khryst,” but it sounds equally as bad).

Tangg Da Juice (The All Mighty RSO – Doomsday: Forever RSO).

Nutta Butta (Wreckx-N-Effect – Raps New Generation).

Poon-Skoon (Dr. Dre Presents….The Aftermath).

Worst Posse Record: “All Star Freestyle” (The Conscious Daughters – Gamers) – TCD invites a slew of their Bay Area friends (Saafir, Mac Mall, Mystic, and Money B, just to name a few) to spit subpar freestyle rhymes over a horrible instrumental, resulting in a cringe-worthy seven-minute cipher session.

Honorable Mentions:

“Bouncin’ Down The Strezeet” (Ice-T –VI: Return Of The Real) – The Tinker Bell production combined with a laughable performance from Ice-T and his friends (which includes an embarrassingly bad hook that finds Mr. Wesside rhyming “streezeet” with “beazeet” and “heazeet” with “seazeet”) makes this a close runner up to “All Star Freestyle.”

“Da Ill Out” (Redman – Muddy Waters) – Def Squad is notorious for bad posse records and this one goes up there as one of their worst.

Worst Album Title: Str8 Off Tha Streetz Of Muthaphukkin Compton – The title to Eazy-E’s first posthumous release is way too long and has way too much Ebonics and incorrect spelling going on.

Honorable Mentions:

(Ice-T) VI: The Return Of The Real – The Roman numerals are cool, but “Return Of The Real” sounds like something a washed-up rapper would say.

(A+) The Latch-Key Child – It just sounds stupid. No one says “latchkey child,” it’s “kid,” and kid would have worked much better since it was a popular term of endearment in East Coast hip-hop during the nineties.

Worst Album Artwork: (Wise Intelligent) Killin’ U… For Fun – There are two different album covers for Wise Intelligent’s debut solo album. One is a chilling image of a bunch of white men casually gathered around to watch a Black body burn at the stake like their watching a football game on a Sunday afternoon. The alternate cover (which is the cover for the CD copy that I own) features a low-quality, poorly angled pic of Wise looking angry in a wife beater with unkempt locks and nappy edges, accompanied by generic lettering of his name and the album title, making this an easy selection for this award.

Honorable Mentions:

(Dynamic Twins) Above The Ground – The artwork reminds me of those yellow generic brand cereal boxes from back in the day. A very close runner-up to Killin’ U… For Fun.

(Poor Righteous Teachers) New World Order – The generic image of the trio placed in the middle of the reverse side of the Great Seal of the United States with “Novus Ordo Seclorum” translated to English, makes for terrible Photoshop.

Worst Album: (Dynamic Twins) Above The Ground – Thanks to poor mixing and mediocre emceeing, the fourth release from the god-fearing identical twins makes for a goddamn hard listen.

Honorable Mentions:

(Eazy-E) Str8 Off Tha Streetz Of Muthaphukkin Compton – A perfect example of why ninety-nine percent of posthumous hip-hop albums suck.

(Ice-T) VI: The Return Of The Real – The result of a legendary rapper overstaying his welcome.

(Originoo Gunn Clappaz) Da Storm – Calmly disappointing.

(Snoop Dogg) Tha Doggfather – Snoop’s lack of focus and the good doctor’s absence results in a severely troubled sophomore effort.

Best Moniker: Fuckamon (The Almighty RSO – Doomsday: Forever RSO) – Who or what can fuck with this badass alias? Pun intended.

Honorable Mentions:

Rubbabandz (Shyheim – The Lost Generation)

Pop “The Brown Hornet (Shyheim – The Lost Generation)

Best Album Artwork: Muddy Waters – The amusing and colorful artwork (which includes a green screen television, and a wood table donning a beautiful sunflower, while Redman relaxes in a chair with one leg folded up, muddied from skully to Timberland with dark shades on) is a great reflection of Red’s personality and the music contained on the album.

Honorable Mentions:

(Fugees) The Score – The album cover is a clever homage to the theatrical release posters for Martin Scorsese’s classic movies, Goodfellas and Casino. Thankfully, the music follows the films’ standard of excellence.

(O.G.C.) Da Storm – I’ll always be a sucker for dope animated artwork.

(2pac) The Don Killuminati: The 7 Day Theory – Insert previous note about Da Storm. Plus, Pac’s untimely demise adds a mystique to the artwork that only grows over time.

(OutKast) ATLiens – Dungeon Family member and resident spoken word poet, Big Rube, is responsible for the dope comic book illustration that paints the Atlanta duo as superheroes, Bin-Hahmin and Dad-Efat-Sax (which serves as the cover to an elaborate twenty-six-page CD booklet with an in-depth storyline that finds OutKast battling Nosamulli and his Dark Horde, who are out to control and destroy all of music).

(Kool Keith) Dr. Octagonecologyst – The dark cartoon image of Kool Keith’s skeleton-framed death and pussy obsessed alter-ego (one of his many alter-egos) decked out in a black doctor’s coat and stethoscope does a great job of piquing one’s interest in the album and luring them in for a listen.

(Lil Kim) Hard Core – The pic of Queen B (pre-plastic surgery and MJ skin bleaching) on all fours looking just as sexy as beautiful in her modest lingerie will always make for classic eye candy.

Best Album Title: (A Tribe Called Quest) Beats, Rhymes & Life – While many felt Tribe’s fourth album was a dud (for the record, I strongly disagree), the simple yet profound title made a strong statement.

Honorable Mentions:

(Nas) It Was Written – Nas poetically flips a biblical term into a fitting album title for one of the greatest writers to ever grace a pen and pad.

(Lost Boyz) Legal Drug Money – Oxymoronic phrase (well, kind of) that makes for a witty album title.

(Keith Murray) Enigma – Great word.

Sleeper Album: (DJ Shadow) Endtroducing… – With the absence of the emcee, Shadow teaches an eclectic master class on the art of drum programming and sampling. Easily one of the greatest instrumental hip-hop albums of all time that I completely slept on for some twenty-something-odd years.

Honorable Mentions:

(Wise Intelligent) Killin U… For Fun – You can’t always judge a book by its cover.

(Kool Keith) Dr. Octagonecologyst – Kool Keith’s kooky alter ego collides with Dan the Automator’s abstract production, merging into an intriguing combination that grows more interesting with each listen.

(The Conscious Daughters) Gamers – The Oakland duo sell their gangster persona well over a consistently solid batch of G-funk instrumentals, without an ounce of consciousness detected.

(Eminem) Infinite – Em’s independent debut may not be backed by the Interscope machine and Dr. Dre’s pristine production, but something about pre-Slim Shady Eminem rhyming over a pallet of raw boom-bap beats makes for an entertaining listen, and pound for pound, might be his best album.

Best Album: (Fugees) The Score – The Fugees make amends for their dismal debut album with this undisputed masterpiece. Dope skits, monster singles, deep album cuts, and at least five records are nuclear bombs.

Honorable Mentions:

(OutKast) ATLiens – Organized Noize’s production continues to blossom, and 3 Stacks’ Martian antennas begin to sprout.

(Ghostface Killah) Ironman – Only Built 4 Cuban Linx on steroids. Yeah, I said it.

(Jay-Z) Reasonable Doubt – The bar for “drug dealer turned rapper” albums.

Best Posse Record: “Iron Maiden” (Ghostface Killah – Ironman) – The opening track to GFK’s debut solo album (and I use the term “solo” loosely) matches the host with his Wu-Tang bredrin, Raekwon and Cappadonna (who shuts shit down with a razor-sharp closing verse), as the threesome take your eardrums on an exhilarating ride over Rza’s clever Blaxploitation flick samples and a soulfully cinematic backdrop that is guaranteed to get your adrenaline pumping.

Honorable Mentions:

“Affirmative Action” (Nas – It Was Written) – A great introduction to The Firm that showcases a potential they collectively never lived up to.

“Got My Mind Made Up” (2pac – All Eyez On Me) – At the height of the East/West Coast beef, 2pac boldly invites a couple of East Coast All-Stars (Red and Meth) to join him and his Death Row inmates, resulting in a fire coastal unbiased cipher session.

“Bring It On” (Jay-Z – Reasonable Doubt) – Jay and friends (Jaz-O and Sauce Money) vividly paint Premo’s elegant and emotional boom-bap with raw drug dealer strokes. The menacing Fat Joe vocal snippet used on the hook is impactful enough to make The Bronx emcee worthy of a feature credit.

“Winter Warz” (Ghostface Killah – Ironman) – Much like “Iron Maiden,” Cappa steals the show with an amazing closing verse. I have to start collecting this man’s solo catalog.

Cameo Whore: This is a new award that will go to the artist that made the most cameo appearances on the albums I reviewed for said year. I thought it would go to Sadat X, who seemed to appear on everything in 1996, but after crunching the numbers, to my surprise, it was not Sadat (although he did finish in a four-way tie for second with four cameos, along with Common, Havoc, and D.V. Alias Khrist). The first annual cameo whore award was a four-way tie, each with five appearances, between:

Method Man, Redman, Q-Tip, and Prodigy.

Congratulations to all these microphone promiscuous emcees!

That concludes my best and worst list of 1996. Feel free to hit me in the comments with your thoughts. I’ll catch you all in 1997!

-Deedub

Follow me on Instragram@damontimeisillmatic

Well, fine folks, I’ve finally completed the reviews of my 1996 hip-hop collection, and I’d like to thank you all for rockin’ with me through it. This blog is a labor of love, but labor, nonetheless. So, as much as I love chronologically walking through the hallowed halls of hip-hop, one album at a time, I also recognize when it’s time to take a break. With summer soon approaching and a handful of family obligations on the agenda, I won’t be posting weekly for the next few months. I will drop in occasionally, though, to take care of some house cleaning, before I begin my trek through 1997.

In the meantime, check out some of my old posts, which will hopefully evoke nostalgia or lead to you discovering a gem of an album you may have missed along the way. Enjoy your summer!

-Deedub

Follow me on Instragram@damontimeisillmatic

Facemob was a group put together by Scarface, which consisted of Devin The Dude, 350, DMG (who made his debut on “You Don’t Hear Me Doe” from Scarface’s The World Is Yours album), Sha-Riza, and Smit-D. As a collective they would make their unofficial debut on Scarface’s “Amongst The Walking Dead” from the Walking Dead Soundtrack in 1995, sparking a short soundtrack circuit run with songs featured on the soundtracks for Tales From The Hood, Original Gangstas, and High School High. These songs would make great promotional tools for the group’s debut album, The Other Side Of The Law, released in August of 1996 on Rap-A-Lot Records.

Scarface would not only be responsible for forming the group that he would narcissistically name after himself, but he and longtime Rap-A-Lot affiliate producer, Mike Dean, would handle most of the production on The Other Side, with N.O. Joe and a few others contributing sonically as well. The album would peak at 51 on the Billboard 200 and 6 on the Billboard Top R&B/Hip-Hop Charts.

I didn’t know this album existed until I found it staring at me in the used CD bins at a local record store a couple of months ago. Being the moderate Scarface fan that I am, I figured I’d shell out a few dollars in hopes of discovering some fire music that I missed back then, and hopefully has maintained its flame.

Intro – The album begins with a beautifully somber piano riff, punctuated by a demonically distorted male voice saying “And now…the end begins.” Then a single gunshot is fired to snap you out of the trance the tender piano chords might have lulled you into.

In The Flesh – Face hooks up a stripped-down backdrop with mystically dark undertones, as 350, Smit-D (who made the album cover shoot but subsequently got locked up and couldn’t write his own shoutouts for the liner notes. Dat Nigga Noriega (not to be confused with Nore from Capone-N-Noreaga), is credited with writing them on “behalf of Smit-D”), and DMG each gets off a verse filled with street and gangsta rhetoric. I was hoping to hear a verse from Scarface, but he only assists with the hook, adding a few adlibs. Nevertheless, all three Mob members sound serviceable with DMG sounding the strongest, but I may be a little biased since we were both born and raised in the Twin Cities area.

Bank Robbery – As the title suggests, 350, Sha-Riza, DMG, Devin The Dude, and his Uncle Eddie are out to rob a bank blind after 350 lets Devin know she has an inside connect at the bank. The Mob verbally illustrates the entire scheme and execution in great detail, and it’s all backed by Face and Mike Dean’s slow-rolling cinematic thriller, which works as the perfect accomplice for our hosts’ heist. Well played, Facemob.

Da Coldest – The Scarface/Mike Dean produced backdrop sounds like the energetic twin to the instrumental on the previous track. Smit-D, DMG, and Sha-Riza take turns laying their dicks on the table as they each claim to be the illest on the mic, while Face adds a few adlibs and co-signs for the trio’s cappin’. I did enjoy portions of Sha and DMG’s verses (specifically when they discuss their humble beginnings in the rap game), but neither one is even the coldest in Facemob.

Millions – I hate everything about this song. DMG, Smit-D, and Sha all spit verses that attempt to justify selling death (aka drugs) to their own community, simply because they want to get rich. Then Face and Devin provide a “woe is me” hook that almost feels like an attempt to paint their dope boy friends as the victims and to conjure up sympathy for their selfish acts: “And even though you say I’m killin’ off your children, I’m just a nigga hustlin’, tryna make a million” (to add insult to injury, Devin’s high-pitched squeaky singing is annoying as shit). And all this bullshit is wrapped up in a contrived sappy instrumental that makes me want to puke. 350 was wise to steer completely clear of this mess.

Tales From Tha Hood – N.O. Joe gets his lone production credit of the night with this one (with Mike Dean receiving a co-credit), dropping an epic southern-fried monster on the Mob. Speaking of the Mob, the Face of it (pun intended) starts this killing spree off right, rendering his lone verse of the album, followed by verses from an uncredited special guest (I think his name is Warren Lee) and DMG. The latter two’s murderous rhymes pale in comparison to Face’s vividly violent verse, which left me wishing this was a Scarface solo joint.

Respect Rude – After all the gloom and doom that covered the first half of The Other Side, Face brings some levity to the album with this mid-tempo bop with hop. Smit-D, DMG (who takes the listener on a verbal ride through the Minneapolis and St. Paul hoods…yes, hoods do exist in Minnesota), and 350 share this track with middling results (I realize that I may have only found DMG’s verse interesting because I’m familiar with the areas he described. So, I completely understand if no one else gives a shit about his verse). And I never need to hear Devin attempt to reggae chant again.

Stay True – Devin The Dude and 350 tag team the mic, vowing to stay true to themselves despite their naysayers. Devin shines the brightest as he gets off some slick lines and provides a smooth hook. But it’s the bluesy groove, equipped with sexy wah-wah guitar licks and a persistent bass line, that makes this thang go.

The Other Side – Since I found a video for this song on the internet, I’ll assume this title track was a single released from the album. It starts out sounding like it’s going to be a Smit-D solo joint, as he spews more mediocre criminal vernacular on the song’s first two verses. Then Devin swoops in for the third verse and gets off some introspective bars to bring some balance. I enjoyed the polished instrumental (credited to Michael Poye and Uncle Eddie), and even though I don’t know what Smit-D is saying on the hook, it’s catchy.

Black Woman – The record begins with 350 prefacing that this song is not about Black women but dedicated to “fakes ass hoes,” which naturally left me wondering why you wouldn’t just title the song “Fake Ass Hoes” instead of “Black Woman.” Anyhoo…Smit-D and Devin use this one to vent about a few of the ladies they deal with, calling out some of their toxic traits. Smit-D offers up another subpar performance and I’m not a fan of the drowsy instrumental that sounds like it’s intoxicated on lean. But Devin delivers a hi-larious verse as he re-enacts his perspective of coming home late from the studio and being confronted by his suspicious woman; and his song-closing rant literally makes me lol every time I listen to this song.

Rivals – This song was originally released on the Original Gangstas Soundtrack. Everyone except for Sha-Riza (who oddly went MIA after “Millions”) participates in this ode to their enemies, and everything about this record was forgettable.

Outro – The album comes full circle, ending exactly how it started.

I’ll be honest. After my first few listens to The Other Side Of The Law, I was a little disappointed that Scarface didn’t appear on more of the album’s tracks. Then after a few more listens, I became really disappointed that Scarface didn’t appear on more of the album’s tracks. That’s not to say there aren’t any talented rappers in the Facemob collective. Devin The Dude is a rapper that I’ve casually watched from a distance and enjoyed on the handful of songs I’ve heard from him before listening to The Other Side; enough to make me buy a handful of his solo albums that I still haven’t listened to. Devin delivers on most of his contributions to The Other Side, but after him, the quality of the lyrical output on the album begins to sag heavily. Sha-Riza seems to be a competent emcee, but he’s absent for most of the album, including the album cover; and as much as I appreciate DMG proudly reppin’ for Minnesota, his average abilities aren’t strong enough to consistently entertain on The Other Side. 350 and Smit-D are the obvious weak links, and their mediocre hardcore posturing didn’t move me in the slightest.

While the emceeing on The Other Side is a bit sluggish, Face and Mike Dean put their best foot (or feet) forward, providing a cohesive batch of overall quality instrumentals to support the Mob’s underwhelming underworld content. Devin and the production staff don’t completely cover the blemishes left by the rest of the Mob’s lackluster performance, but they sure make the bitch look presentable.

-Deedub

Follow me on Instragram@damontimeisillmatic

When it comes to commercial success, Too Short might have the most understated commercially successful run in hip-hop history. After selling God knows how many copies of numerous underground tapes and his first three albums (Don’t Stop Rappin’, Players, and Raw, Uncut & X-Rated, released on the Oakland-based independent label, 75 Girls) out of the trunk of his car, Too Short’s independent success would garner attention from the major labels who would soon come looking to cash in on his potential. Too Short would sign with Jive/RCA in 1987 and by the beginning of 1996 he would have one gold-selling album under his belt (his 1987 major label debut, Born To Mack) and four consecutive platinum-selling albums (Life Is…Too Short, Short Dog’s In The House, Shorty The Pimp, and Get In Where You Fit In) with a fifth to later join the club (his 1995 album, Cocktails would become platinum certified at the beginning of 1997). Too Short would return in May of ‘96 to release his tenth album, Gettin’ It (Album Number Ten).

Gettin’ It would feature production from a few of Short’s longtime collaborators and Dangerous Crew members, Ant Banks and Shorty B, along with a few other names that will discuss in a bit. The album would peak at number three on the Billboard Top 200, and even though Short would only release one single from the album, Gettin’ It would go on to become Too Short’s sixth consecutive platinum-selling album and his last. As the new millennium began, Short’s sales begin to wane, as only two of the eleven solo albums he released between 1999 and to date have received RIAA certifications.

I stopped buying Too Short albums after Get In Where You Fit In. That is until I recently found a used CD copy of Gettin’ It and bought it out of curiosity and to hear what a Too Short album sounded like since I last listened to one. This review marks my first time listening to the album in its entirety, but two things I’m sure of: they’ll be a massive amount of pimp talk and a whole lot of “beaatches” thrown around.

Gettin’ It – There’s nothing like starting an album with the title track, which in this case also happens to be the lead single. Shorty B, George Clinton and his legendary Parliament-Funkadelic band build a funky rendition around a portion of a former Funkadelic band member, Bootsy Collins’ classic record, “I’d Rather Be With You.” Too Short uses the smooth funk groove to motivate the listener to go out and get what’s rightfully theirs (i.e., money, a good lawyer, an education (ironically, Short brags about being a “young millionaire with no high school diploma” just a few bars later), out of jail, or whatever else your personal goal may be), or as G. Clinton and the ladies sensually sum up on the catchy hook: “You should be gettin’ it…gettin’ while the gettin’ is good.” The song ends with a completely random appearance from YZ reciting the hook from one of my favorite YZ joints (“So Far (The Ghetto’s Been Good To Me)).” Nevertheless, this was a superb way to kick off the album.

Survivin’ The Game – The mood quickly shifts to a more serious tone, thanks to Ant Banks’ troubled keyboard chords and weary-sounding synth samples. Short matches the pensive musical mood by discussing the dangers and consequences of living the street life, in hopes of deterring the listener from walking that risky path. A nice record that would have fit perfectly on a nineties hood movie soundtrack.

That’s Why – Too Short uses this one to address the rumors that he was forced to move out of his hometown of Oakland, and he fires shots at the Bay Area radio station, KMEL (whom he accuses of banning his music) and the Luniz, who fired the first shot on their single, “Playa Hata” from their debut album, Operation Stackola. Short makes it clear that it wasn’t his industry beefs and the bullets with his name on them that he humorously says he “never got to meet,” that made him leave his hometown and move to Atlanta, but claims it was his numerous warrants in the Town, along with the appeal of the Atlanta hosted Jack The Rapper hip-hop convention and fittingly, Freaknik. Ant Banks soundtracks Short’s adventures in relocating with a pretty solid instrumental if you can overlook the wonky synth noises sporadically placed throughout.

Bad Ways – Short Dog invites a few friends to join him on this one (Studd, Murda One, and Joe Riz), as all four parties take turns testifying about their bad habits and tendencies. Everyone involved turns in a competent believable verse, while Spearhead X (with co-credit going to The Soul Merchants and L-Rock) serves up a smooth groove accompanied by the soothing vocals of Sonji Mickey and a nameless male voice on the hook. No chaser required.

Fuck My Car – Not to be confused with UGK’s song with the same title that came out on their Ridin’ Dirty album a few months after Gettin’ It. Short spews tons of misogyny while accusing bitches, excuse me, women, of wanting him strictly for his money and material possessions, but mainly his fly ride (“I know you’re broke, fantasizing like Mariah, get a grip on my bumper, rub your clit on my tire, you can ride on the top, or wrap your legs around the frame, but if you get in this car, you gonna respect this game”). He also gets off one of the worst lines ever spat on a Jive recording: “You ain’t never gon’ stop my pimpin’ style, it’s like two plus two, can you figure it out? You say, ‘What for (four)?’ I say, ‘That’s right.’” Smh. MC Breed (rip) makes his first appearance of the evening, providing adlibs, a few bars, and the flat instrumental. I wasn’t crazy about UGK’s version, but I’d take it over this horrible record any day of the week.

Take My Bitch – Since Short is known for pimpin’ and often calling ladies “bitches” in his rhymes, the song title would lead you to believe this record is about pimpin’ bitches, excuse me, women. Instead, Short goes into his seldom-used metaphor bag, referring to his music as the bitch he’s pimpin’ and that you’re more than welcome to take: “From California all the way to Miami, I pimped that bitch and now the hoes can’t stand me, ’cause when I put my bitch on the streets, niggas rush to the store ’cause they love the beats, we gettin’ all the money, we cashin’ all the checks, I ain’t no fake pimp nigga, you can take my bitch.” It’s no “I Used To Love H.E.R.” or “I Gave You Power” but passable. I did thoroughly enjoy Colin Wolfe’s slow-rolling funk groove and rubbery bass line, though.

Buy You Some – Too Short invites MC Breed, Kool-Ace, and Erick Sermon (who recycles a portion of his verse from his Funk Master Flex’s 60 Minutes Of Funk: Vol. 1 freestyle) to join him on this regionally unbiased cipher session. The drums in the instrumental are nearly nonexistent, but the understated bass line and mysteriously grimy guitar licks are damn near hypnotic. This was originally released on The Dangerous Crew’s 1995 compilation album, Don’t Try This At Home, which only featured Short and Erick Sermon. No disrespect to Breed or Kool-Ace, but I prefer the original.

Pimp Me – This ain’t nothing but a Players Ball, y’all. Goldy and Kool-Ace join Too Short in spewing pimp propaganda, while senior pimps, Sir Captain and Sir Charles add some humorous pimp dialogue in between verses and sound like the epitome of catdaddies in the process. DJ Flash and Shorty B are credited with the warm banger, as Real Tight and Joi Hunter sing on the hook adding some extra sauce to the track with their vocals.

Baby D – Short Dog clears the way for an even shorter dog, his ten-year-old apprentice, Baby D. It’s pretty obvious that Too Short penned Baby D rhymes, whom I’d be willing to bet is the son of a mom that gave Short some box with the promise he’d let her baby spit on a record. Other than the slipper wah-wah guitar licks in the instrumental (which I’m a sucker for), there’s not much to see here, folks.

Nasty Rhymes – This one opens with a couple of singing ladies (Agony and Wendie Rice) asking Short why he objectifies women in his dirty raps, which is also the song’s hook. Too Short never offers a proper answer to the question, but rebuttals with three verses filled with more misogyny and objectification (this might also be the first record that a rapper admitted to enjoying getting his ass eaten, long before it became a trend in hip-hop. If I’m wrong, I’m sure one of you will correct me in the comments). The track is backed by Colin Wolfe’s watery groove that makes me want to bust out in the running man every time I hear it.

Never Talk Down – Much like 8Ball & MJG, Rappin’ 4 Tay is one of those artists whose music I never got around to diving into, but every time I hear him cameo on someone else’s record, he impresses and makes me want to start digging into his back catalog. Then time passes, and I forget about doing so until the next time I hear him make a dope guest appearance and the cycle continues. 4-Tay does it again on this one, delivering a couple of calmly confident verses with his soft-spoken vocal tone, as he joins Short and Breed in warning all player haters to watch their mouths when talking about a true player over Shorty B’s lively drums and an ill bass guitar riff.

I Must Confess – This is probably the closes you’ll ever get to hearing a love song from Too Short. The pimp has finally met his match, as a sexy young tender with amazing vagina has him whipped and wide open, gladly playing the side dude role and graphically detailing their sexual exploits: “I can’t sleep at night, you always keep me up, suckin on my dick, let me deep in them guts, I can’t stop fuckin you, runnin’ all up in you, I know you got a nigga, but you still know what to do, you never hold back, never act shy, make it look so good I never close my eyes, I like the way your titties shake when you’re ridin’ me, you take it out lick it and say put it back inside me.” Short’s verbal porn is backed by more excellent funk instrumentation, which includes seductive guitar riffs and dope drum rolls (courtesy of Shorty B), and his friends (Real Tight, Jalah, and Shorty B) co-sign his sentiments with a little harmony, culminating in a catchy hook. Much like Short’s sunshine-boxed lady friend, this record is also addictive.

So Watcha Sayin’ – Too Short uses this one to get a few things off his chest, as he discusses his possible retirement, his legacy in hip-hop, and refers to himself as the Kareem Abdul-Jabber of rap who will willingly pass the torch whenever the next Lebron James shows up. The mellow backdrop (laced with a sample of females saying his trademark “beaatch!”) is perfect for Short’s reflective words, and we get to hear more slippery wah-wah guitars.

I’ve Been Watching You (Move Your Sexy Body) – The album ends with a full circle moment. It began with an incredible funk groove courtesy of George Clinton and his Parliament-Funkadelic band, and they return to close things out with an even stankier mash-up. The band slaps the listener across the face with seven and a half minutes of soulful sonics intertwined with a P-Funk groove so funky you’ll screw your face like you smell shit on your upper lip. A great way to close the album out, and I’d be scared to meet the woman and the body that inspired this level of funk.

Too Short’s longevity in the rap game is proof that sometimes less is more. Short never dazzled with a flashy flow and delivery or hit you with complex rhymes and mind-blowing content. Instead, you could always rely on getting relatively simple rhymes drenched in misogyny, delivered through his straightforward flow and never changing monotone vocal tone. And that is exactly what you get on…Gettin’ It.

Too Short’s rhymes may be elementary, but the bluntness and honesty in them are what sell them and makes them appealing. But even more appealing than Too Short’s rhymes on Gettin’ It is the production. Overall, the music sounds more layered than his previous albums, and the heavy dosage of live funk instrumentation will seduce your eardrums, resulting in eargasms from the handful of phenomenal jam sessions. As always, Too Short sprinkles a little consciousness into his big bowl of ratchetness, almost as an offering to cleanse his soul from the abundance of dirty raps he spews. There are a couple of duds on Gettin’ It, but overall, it’s an entertaining listen that has aged well.

Gettin’ It finds Too Short at a crossroad. After dropping ten albums in thirteen years, the Oakland native was contemplating permanently hanging up his microphone and finally resting his strong pimp hand. I’m sure the industry left him a little jaded, and as he expresses on “So Watcha Sayin?,” he felt underappreciated and misunderstood. And I’m sure he was also struggling with the idea of not having anything left to rap about, as there are only so many ways you can rap about “pimpin’ a bitch.” But in hindsight, Too Short’s legendary career was just getting started, as he’s still releasing music nearly thirty years later. Once again proving that time is truly illmatic…beaatch!

-Deedub

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1996 is coming to an end here at TimeIsIllmatic. The next three reviews are ‘96 album releases that I added to my collection just in the past few months. Hope you enjoy the read!

Kris Kross became a pop phenomenon when they exploded on the scene in 1992 with their smash hit crossover single, “Jump.” The single would earn a platinum plaque and help propel Jermaine Dupri’s backward clothes-wearing teenage protégés’ debut album, Totally Krossed Out, to multi-platinum success. The Krises would follow up Totally Krossed Out in ‘93 with Da Bomb, and while there were a couple of bright moments on the album (mainly, my favorite Kris Kross song of all time, “Alright”), I thought it was a pretty underwhelming outing for the Atlanta-based duo. Regardless of my thoughts or the album’s quality, it would become Kris Kross’ second consecutive platinum-selling album, but disappointing sales results compared to their debut. After a nearly three-year hiatus, Kris Kross would return at the beginning of ‘96 with their third release and the subject of this post, Young, Rich & Dangerous.

Like their first two albums, Jermaine Dupri would handle all the production on YR&D and he would be responsible for penning most of KK’s bars. YR&D’s lead single would earn Kris Kross another gold plaque, as would the album. While a gold-selling album for most hip-hop acts would be deemed a success, for Kris Kross, coming off back-to-back platinum-selling albums, it was a commercial failure and would be the last album we would get from the teenage darlings.

I stopped following Kris Kross after Da Bomb album, but I bought a copy of YR&D a few months ago on the strength of a recommendation/request of one of my loyal readers. What up Miami Will? Just know your credibility is riding on this one, sir.

Continue to rest easy, Chris “Mac Daddy” Kelly.

Some Cut Up – The opening track features JD interpolating Kleeer’s “Intimate Connection” to create a party atmosphere for KK, who goes into Snoop Dogg-lite mode, flossin’, frontin’, and ultimately trying to get some young tender back to the crib for some action, while Trey Lorenz (remember him?) drops in to sing (or speak) a word or two on the song’s refrain. At a minute and forty-five-second run time, I’m not sure if this is supposed to be an intro or an actual song. Either way, it’s an odd way to start an album, but strangely, it grows on me with each listen.

When The Homies Show Up – This skit has Kris Kross and their homies plotting to bring some girls (aka “cut-up”) over to Mac Daddy’s house since his mom is out of town. It sets up the next song and it’s also the first time Kris Kross refers to themselves as “C-Connection,” which wouldn’t have been a bad group name to change to if they kept making music as they got older.

Tonite’s Tha Night – This was the lead single from YR&D. As mentioned during the previous skit, Mac Daddy’s mom is out of town and he’s got the house to himself (a house he probably paid for), making for the perfect opportunity for he, Daddy Mac, excuse me, Kris Terry, and the homies to throw a party and take part in all types of drunkenness and debauchery. JD borrows from Faze-O’s “Riding High” to back KK’s turn-up rhymes, carrying over the party vibes from the opening track. It’s a fluffy record that you can easily vibe to, but Trey Lorenz singing on the hook and adlibs is so awful the vibe almost flatlines.

Interview – This skit finds Kris Kross speaking with a journalist and explaining the meaning and reason for the album title, which bleeds into the next song.

Young, Rich And Dangerous – JD puts together a slick groove with a serious feel for the title track, as KK take turns testifying how their success in music allowed them to live a more comfortable and lavished lifestyle (a pet peeve of mine: when people (*cough* Mac Daddy) say things like “my life did a three-sixty,” when they really mean “one-eighty,” because a three-sixty would put you right back where you started). Da Brat co-signs for her new money teenage compadres on the hook and the hip-hop poet laureate from the Dungeon Family, Big Rube, closes the song with one of his signature insightful spoken word poems. I enjoyed this one.

Live And Die For Hip-Hop – Kris Kross hosts this So-So Def cipher session, as Da Brat, JD, and newcomer, Mr. Black, take turns talkin’ shit and Aaliyah (rip) stops by to sprinkle the record with adlibs and sing a ten-second bridge, sounding nothing like I remember her sounding on her own joints, which is not a complaint. All parties involved put their best foot forward with Da Brat easily shining the brightest, but its JD’s simple but marvelously hypnotic flip of Regina Belle’s “Baby Come To Me” that makes this record irresistible and a great choice for the album’s second single.

Money, Power And Fame (Three Thangs Thats Necessities) – This is one of two songs on YR&D that JD loosened the reins and let the duo write their own rhymes. KK gives us more Snoop Dogg-lite, which makes Kris Terry’s accusation that “niggas be tryna steal my style like it was a recipe” laughable. But even more laughable was Mr. Dupri’s reimagining of the instrumental for LL’s “I Need Love.”

It’s A Group Thang – A quick skit that sets up the next song. Is that Kandi Burruss from Xscape playing the role of Kris Kross’ super submissive cut-up?

Mackin’ Ain’t Easy – Mr. Black makes his second appearance of the evening, joining the Macs as they take part in some good old fashion pimpin’ and mackin’. You’ll quickly forget all the generic misogyny spewed in this song, but JD’s mellow melodic soul soothing backdrop will keep you coming back for more.

Da Streets Ain’t Right – This is easily the most gangsta record in Kris Kross’ catalog, yet not gangsta at all. Both Krises share stories about being outside, very high profile and falling victim to robbery by street wolves. I’m sure both stories are fictional, but I still found it amusing that while they claim to “stay strapped” on the hook, both parties were heatless when the wolves came to get ‘em. JD builds the backdrop around a loop of Biggie’s “Warning” (he also includes a clever soundbite from the same record), turning it into a pleasant banger that I thoroughly enjoyed.

Hey Sexy – Can I please get a bottle of water to wash down this corn?

Tonite’s Tha Night (Remix) – I definitely prefer the “Riding High” backed instrumental to the drab and empty feel of this remix. The Dr. Dre vocal snippet on the hook was a nice added touch, though. This song is followed by a quick snippet of the title track to end the album.

The musical maturation of Kris Kross from Totally Krossed Out to Young, Rich & Dangerous is pretty interesting. In just a matter of four years, the duo would go from pipsqueak-voiced teens wearing their jerseys and jeans backward, rapping about jumping and missing school buses to young men with post-puberty vocal tones carrying guns, driving fancy cars, getting drunk, chasing women, all while wearing their clothing the way the designer intended. It’s also a bit of an enigma (shoutout to Keith Murray) how Kris Kross went from setting trends on their first album to heavily following them on YR&D, yet the music on the latter has aged better and is much more enjoyable than the former.

At twelve tracks (two of the tracks being interludes and then a remix tacked on at the end) and a thirty-six-minute runtime, YR&D feels more like an EP than a full-length album, which I have no problem with (The older I get the more I subscribe to the theory that less is more, or at least less is easier to tolerate). On YR&D The Krises’ rhymes are drenched in materialism and misogyny with most of it sounding unbelievably and inauthentic. Nevertheless, most of JD’s production sounds great, making Kris Kross’ cap-filled content easier to digest.

On the title track, Chris Terry raps “You can’t predict the future without mentioning me.” Unfortunately, there would be no future for Kris Kross, as YR&D would mark the end of the duo’s brief run, but at least they saved their best for last. And one can’t help but wonder if being young and rich contributed to the dangers that would lead to Mac Daddy’s tragic end.

-Deedub

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I’ve been covering a whole lot of Christian rap this past month that I’m sure most of you could care less about. Thanks for sticking with me through it regardless, and rest assured that more secular reviews are right around the corner…you little heathens.

The Dynamic Twins were a Christian rap duo comprised of the Bronx-born, California transplant identical twin brothers, Noel and Robbie Arthurton. The last and first time we checked in with them was on their 1991 debut album, Word 2 The Wize, which was a train wreck, despite Sup The Chemist doing everything in his production power to make it work. As I mentioned in my W2TW review, Sup’s involvement with the project was the main reason I bought the album. The fledgling Urban Christian music label, Brainstorm (once the label home to other Christian rap groups like SFC and Freedom Of Soul) on which W2TW was released, must have really believed in the Dynamic Twins, as they would release two more albums on the imprint, No Room 2 Breathe in 1993, and 40 Days In The Wilderness (which I think I owned on cassette back in the early 2000s) in ‘95. Brothers Arthurton would part ways with Brainstorm after 40 Days, beginning the next chapter of their career with Metro One (the same label that T-Bone would release his first three albums on), releasing their fourth album, Above The Ground, sometime in 1996.

Sup The Chemist would have absolutely nothing to do with sculpting the sound of Above The Ground, as Noel and Robbie would handle the production for most of the album. Above The Ground would be the only album the Dynamic Twins would release on Metro One. Years later they would release music on their own label, ironically named, Above The Ground.

With Sup’s production absent from the album and me not being a fan of Dynamic Twins’ raps on their debut album, you might wonder why I even bought Above The Ground. I promise I’m not a glutton for punishment, but I am curious to hear if they improved since their debut. But the generic album cover artwork has me nervous about that.

Intro – The album begins with the most cliché regally triumphant sounding music that a Casio keyboard could conger up, followed by a single strike of thunder. This all sets the tone and mood for God the Father (not to be confused with the Godfather) to share a few words about blessings and curses, life and death, accepting his son, Jesus, as your personal Lord and Savior and if you reject him, prepare yourself to eternally swim in a lake of fire. The Father ends his short soliloquy by randomly shouting out two of his selected servants, yes, you guessed it, the Dynamic Twins, followed by the barest and most basic drumbeat ever created to close out this asinine intro that doesn’t even exist according to the liner notes and the tracklist on the CD jewel case back panel.

H.G. Funk – The first song of the evening finds our hosts bringing the funk, fueled by the Holy Ghost. The duo takes turns rapping about the goodness of Jesus and the Holy Spirit over the competent G-Funk groove, while a Roger Troutman-inspired voice repeatedly tells us what he and DT want on the refrain. Noel and Robbie both sound like they’ve improved lyrically since W2TW, but the music overpowers the vocals, making it nearly impossible to understand all of their rhymes.

Ways Of Cain – The Brothers Arthurton build this song’s concept around the story of another brother duo, Cain and Abel. The twins use the story outlined in Genesis Chapter 4 to address the modern-day dilemma of jealousy and envy, two attributes that lead to brothers killing brothers, and not just brothers in the biological sense. Like the previous track, this one also suffers from poor mixing of the music with the vocals. But the menacing backdrop goes kind of hard.

Laughter & Tears – Noel and Robbie swap cautionary tales about a computer-savvy young man who chooses a life of crime over education and hard work (wait…was “computer-savvy” even a thing in ‘96?) and a straight-A female student whose one night of mischievousness turns into a teen pregnancy by a young man who gets the hell out of Dodge before the baby is even born. I like DT’s moral message, but the backing instrumental was boring as hell. No pun intended.

Ready Or Not – The Dynamic Twins profess their readiness to stand for Christ while patiently awaiting his return because if you stay ready, you don’t have to get ready. DT borrows a line from Funkadelic’s “One Nation Under A Groove” for the hook and the instrumental sounds like it was produced by Tinkerbell. Dead ass. It even samples the same chime that the Ring camera uses when it sends you a phone notification.

Relaxin’ – The Dynamic Twins use this one to stress (no pun intended) the importance of getting rest and spending leisure time with family and friends. When Brothers Arthurton aren’t on the road rappin’ for Jesus and trying to save souls, they don’t waste their downtime on broads, blunts, and brew like a lot of their secular contemporaries. Instead, you can catch them spending time with their wives, eating barbecue, sippin’ Arny Palmers, playing basketball, chillin’ at the beach, watching sunsets, and capping the day off by watching their man, Rocket Ismail (who still played for the Raiders at the time) play on Monday Night Football (the Dynamic Twins actually made an album with Rocket that I found a few months back while rummaging through the used CD bins at one of my spots). The chill summertime-ready vibes in the instrumental, along with the soothing vocals of Melissa Untalon on the hook will definitely put you in a mood to unwind and enjoy life.

The Blood Cries – DT uses this one to address the issues of violence and race relations in America, hoping for the day that we can all come together and live as God’s children in peace and unity (twenty-seven years later and we’re still waiting). The lyrics for this song are the lone song lyrics written in the album liner notes, which made me wonder why they didn’t put the title track lyrics in the liner notes, but whatever. I wasn’t crazy about this one, but it’s not a terrible record, either.

Little Robert Anthem – Our hosts step aside to let Little Robert get off a quick verse dedicated to the non-believers, where the self-proclaimed “Christian criminal” is “eatin’ demons up just like mojos” and tying up the devil like laces. Undersized Bob’s performance is amateurish at best and the sleepy drums and drowsy guitar licks that back him don’t help matters.

Above The Ground – The title track finds our hosts sharing an inspirational message of being able to rise above and overcome anything life throws their way, through Christ Jesus, while Melissa Untalon returns to sing the hook. It’s a mid record with good messaging.

Dying To Live – This one begins with one of the twins gettin’ off a poem that sounds like something Oswald Bates from In Living Color wrote, while the other brother clears his throat and burps, rudely interrupting his twin’s random rambling (once the song begins, we find out that the seemingly random rambling is part of first brother’s verse). Then a pensive backdrop carried by ruggedly beautiful guitar licks is brought in, as Brothers Arthurton profess their willingness to live and die by the word of God aka the Bible, which also means dying to some of their fleshly urges. Again, the mixing makes it hard to follow their rhymes, but I did enjoy this instrumental.

I’ll Be There – The hook on this one reminds me of and makes me want to sing the refrain from Tony! Toni! Tone!’s “Whatever You Want,” which I’m sure DT’s hook was inspired by. But everything else about this record was extra uninteresting.

Critical Styles – The Dynamic Twins close out Above The Ground by inviting Soul Food Live to jump on a track that they’re also credited with producing. The raps are forgettable, but the sexy xylophone loops used in the instrumental are guaranteed to make you want to Samba, Cha Cha, Tango, Rumba, Bachata, or any other dance form that requires sultry hip movement.

As I briefly touched on during my write-up of LPG’s The Earth Worm, when it comes to Christian hip-hop, there are two types of rappers: Christian rappers and rappers who happen to be Christian. The rapper who happens to be Christian is the emcee who was writing rhymes and possibly making music, fully enthralled in the culture, long before he decided to walk with Jesus. The Christian rapper is the guy/gal who may have been a casual fan of the genre, but never seriously considered rapping until they came into the faith and saw it as a cool tool to witness and win souls for the kingdom. Generally, there’s a huge gap in the rhyme quality between a Christian rapper and a rapper who happens to be Christian, with the advantage heavily favoring the latter. The Dynamic Twins definitely favor the former.

The production on the Dynamic Twins’ debut album, W2TW, was decent, but it was the twins’ rhymes and mouthfuls of marbles that heavily hindered the project. On Above The Ground, the rhymes sound a little sharper and the marble count has decreased, but the mixing is a huge issue. For a large portion of the album the music floods out the Dynamic Twins marble-lite monotone voices like God did the earth in the days of Noah. If you strain your ears, twist your head just right, and resist the urge to blink, you can understand about half of DT’s rhymes. I used that technique a lot while listening to this album throughout the past few weeks, but if you have to listen to music like that, are you really enjoying it?

Even if the Dynamic Twins were blessed enough to have the incomparable ear and hand of Dr. Dre mix and master Above The Ground, it still wouldn’t be a great album. There are a handful of solid instrumentals and some good messaging, but much of the music and the twins’ rhymes just aren’t…dynamic enough to hold the listener’s attention.

-Deedub

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