So… yesterday was an eventful day for a lotta hip-hop aficionados such as myself at the Merriweather Post Pavillion in DC. I’d never been to a Rock The Bells Festival, but I made it a point to make it there this year, callin’ around since way back in May to see who was ready to roll. We made it there, and it was well worth the admission. I didn’t catch much on the second stage, mostly because the main stage was MAJOR this year- with Snoop, Wu-Tang, A Tribe Called Quest, Lauryn Hill, Rakim, KRS-One, and Slick Rick all touchin’ the stage. I was amped when I woke up, amped when we got there, and still amped when we left. In between all that, here’s the shit that stood out- for better or worse. Here we go…
During my peak years as a Wu-Tang superfan (which incidentally stretches the exact length of my time in high school), I’d have to say 1995 was the year it was solidified. For me, that Wu logo was like the quality stamp for anything it was on. I ran Method Man‘s Tical album (in parts) through the early months, tripped off Ol’ Dirty‘s Return to the 36 Chambers during the spring, and closed the year out with GZA‘s Liquid Swords. With respect to those, the real Wu-jewel of ’95 was the one that dropped on August 1st, known as Only Built 4 Cuban Linx…
Dating back as far as “The Message”, there’s a long list of classic hip-hop songs that the artists were initially resistant to doing. In some cases, the most recognizable singles of those artists’ careers were joints they weren’t all that crazy about. The list is impressive: “Walk This Way”, “Juicy”, “Ruff Ryders Anthem”… and the collaboration of Method Man & Mary J. Blige on “You’re All I Need To Get By”.
I hope y’all enjoyed Wu-Week. There’s some stuff I didn’t cover, such as a full-on appreciation of Only Built 4 Cuban Linx, RZA as a producer, or the magical staying power of Ghostface, but I’ll talk about those things at one time or another in the future. As y’all have probably noticed, Wu was definitely one of those crews that I stayed listening to. As I said on Wednesday, at one point in time, anything with the Wu symbol on it was at least worth a listen.
HOWEVER… because I did spend a number of years listening to anything Wu-related, it’s hard not to mention that every listen wasn’t a good one. Even in their prime years, the Clan has also provided some “WTF?” moments in stereo. You may not agree with all of these, or maybe you will, but here’s five not-so-great things that came from the chambers:
Method Man “The Riddler” (1995): I understand it was for the Batman Forever soundtrack. I understand that Mr. Meth prob’ly got a nice check and didn’t give a damn. But that doesn’t stop it from being one of the most half-assed songs from what at the time was my favorite crew in hip-hop. Thankfully, they were still putting out consistent bangers to compensate for this mumbo-jumbo.
RZA feat. Method Man & Cappadonna “Wu-Wear” (1996): Another soundtrack joint, this time from High School High, and another phone-it-in moment for the Wu. This one is practically an commercial for their clothing line (of which I definitely purchased a shirt or two), and the most memorable thing about it is how brutally MTV cut the video up, due to all the name-dropping and flagrant logo violation. Mighta worked better as a radio ad.
Masta Killa. No, not a particular song or album. Just Masta Killa as a member of the group. He started off killin’ shit on “Da Mystery Of Chessboxin’” and some of his other appearances weren’t bad either. Then, somewhere around “Triumph”, he forgot how to rap and just started talking reeeaaal sloooow with a monotone voice. I thought U-God was pretty expendable too, but I’d watch this video with the sound off before I rock with a Masta Killa album.
Method Man, Tical 2000: Judgment Day (1998): If it appears that I have somethin’ against Method Man like I’m Joe Budden or somebody, nothing could be further from the truth. At one point, he was the one whose solo shit I anticipated the most, and he’s arguably been the most successful of the Wu members. Clearly, he musta done something right… but not this shit here. Coupled with RZA‘s Bobby Digital, Meth’s sleep-inducing second album helped make late-’98 a bad look for the WTC. Smells like fish.
Raekwon, Immobilarity (1999): In 2000, one of the things that made Ghostface’s Supreme Clientele a big deal was that it proved Wu-Tang could still make something great. Of course, that had to be proven because they’d been droppin’ mediocre shit through ’98 and ’99. One of the biggest disappointments was Raekwon’s second solo joint, Immobilarity. Maybe it caught extra flack because it wasn’t the OB4CL sequel that everyone expected (and wouldn’t get until this year), but even without comparisons, it was pretty got-damn weak.
Again, thanks for reading all of these Wu entries, and I’ll be back thru on Tuesday with some more random ’90s fukkery. ‘Til then, remember that it’s a secret. Never teach the Wu-Tang.
Five years ago today, two days before his 36th birthday, Ol’ Dirty Bastard died. For whatever reason, it wasn’t as big a shock to me as some of the other deaths were. It didn’t get anywhere near the coverage that most of the others got, and it just seemed to come and go. Although it wasn’t treated or viewed as a big loss, I feel like hip-hop has become a LOT less unpredictable without him around.
I’ve talked about how influential Wu-Tang was during the week, and how much inspiration that other artists drew from them. But I can’t say the same about Dirty, because nobody ever successfully copied anything of his. He’s one of the few artists that reached a particular level of popularity, and yet, no one even TRIED to duplicate his shit. One reason for that, in my opinion, is because the nigro was legitimately nutso. I don’t know if another artist could’ve possibly pretended to be as off-the-wall as he was without it coming off phony.
ODB’s music was crazy by crazy standards. He started off normal enough on “Protect Ya Neck”, but once the album came out, he was known as “the crazy one” of the Clan. He was the extreme contrast to the more lyrically intricate members like The GZA or Inspectah Deck. He had all kinds of simple-yet-comical quotables like “do you wanna get ya teeth knocked the FUCK out?!”, “got burned once but that was only gonorrhea” and my favorite- “gotta get up and beeeeee somebodaaaay!” Even with just a few verses on the album, he stood out as one to look forward to.
BUT… true to how unpredictable he really was, his solo album Return to the 36 Chambers: The Dirty Version wasn’t anything like anyone expected. Even if you knew going in that it was gonna be a lil’ “different” (and how couldn’t it be with a food stamp card on the cover), you couldn’t have known it was gonna be that wild. It sounds like what happens when someone says “fuck it” and throws every crazy idea they have up against the wall… and all of ‘em stick. It’s definitely not for everybody, and it’s one of those things you have to listen to in full because most of it makes no sense otherwise.
The shit was insane. He barely had one song that was in the normal song structure. He opened the damn album singing “the first time ever you sucked my dick… I felt the Earth tremble under my baaaallllllssss”. He went on to do one verse twice on the same track, recite a pseudo-poem about oral sex, break into a “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” rendition outta nowhere, make random noises in between tracks, sing an entire song while paying tribute to his favorite soul singers, and all kinds of other madness. Even the “regular” songs on there were just lessstrange than the others.
And still… as much as he bugged out in stereo… then, there’s his actions outside of the studio. If you wanted to see a great interview or hear some shit you just didn’t hear everyday, Ol’ Dirty was the one to count on. He never failed, whether it was riding a limo to cash a welfare check on MTV, or singing “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown” on The Box. There’s even a few that I’ve found on Youtube like this one, when John Norris asks him if he remembers Drew Barrymore from E.T., and he responds: “I remember the nigga that was ridin’ the bike in the sky”.
My all-time favorite, though, is one day when he was on TRL. He was there with Pras and Mya to perform “Ghetto Supastar”, and they had fans calling in and asking questions. One fan asked Dirty what he was planning to do to give back to his community. This muh’fukka put his hand on his chest, made a “who, me?” type face, shook his head and said… “Nothin’.” I can’t find it on the net to save my life, but if I ever do, I will watch that shit on a continuous loop all day.
ODB’s most high-profile wild-out moment was the one that has now carried over into the soul of Kanye- the Grammy appearance. Before “I’ma let you finish…” became the catchphrase of 2009, Dirty shut it down in ’98 with “Puffy is good, but Wu-Tang is for the children.” There’s also some other lesser-known moments that have been noted- he’s had altercations with The Roots, Doug E. Fresh, and Akinyele due to his refusal to leave the stage until he was ready to. But the best story yet is one that recently surfaced, of the time he took LL Cool J‘s platinum plaque off the wall and pissed on it. Woooow.
To be clear, there was definitely tragedy in all of it. He was clearly mentally unstable, an alcoholic, and addicted to drugs. In fact, his drug use eventually led to his death in ’04. If there could possibly be a bright side to that, Ol’ Dirty Bastard was able to turn things that most people are embarrassed by into the talent that made him the memorable personality he was.
The saga continues… Wu-Week… Wu-Week. Building off of what I said the other day, I can count on one hand how many artists/groups/crews/labels had a run like the Clan did in the ’90s. Even without selling the most records or doing most of what’s required of an artist to have today, they had a stronghold on hip-hop.
However… I feel like sometimes, their impact on the game has been somewhat underrated. Sure, they get all the praise and accolade in the world by their mega-devoted diehard fans. But Wu-Tang stans ain’t nuthin’ ta fuck wit’, and some of those dudes can even convince themselves to listen to Masta Killa for an hour straight, so that doesn’t count. By people outside of that contingent, it’s been swept under the rug just how many things Wu brought to the table during their peak. I don’t know if muh’fukkas conveniently forgot or have neglected to recognize it, but let’s talk about it…
Granted, Wu’s impact was more on the East Coast than anywhere else, but it was every bit as strong as Death Row‘s was on the West around the same time. In fact, they were one of the first NY groups of that time period to hit nationwide as the East Coast was going through a brief lapse in popularity. One thing that stood out about them is that they were bigger than just a great group- they were a group comprised of members that stood on their own and dropped their own solo projects. In addition to attacking with 36 Chambers, the solo albums that followed were all must-haves. From Method Man to Ol’ Dirty Bastard to Raekwon to GZA to Ghostface, anyone who was a fan of Wu-Tang made it a point to catch all of those albums when they dropped. Shit was like collecting action figures.
At their peak, Wu-Tang established a level of brand loyalty with their fans that not many groups had before them. Even a group like Public Enemy at their height couldn’t get people to cop Terminator X or Sister Souljah‘s shit. But the Clan was giving instant credibility to anything that came out with that “W” bird symbol attached to it. On top of the group and the individual projects, they even had a “B-team” that were able to gain their own listeners strictly by affiliation. Wu fans would at least give artists like Sunz of Man, Shyheim, and Killarmy a listen on the strength of being Wu.
Influence-wise, there’s a lot of artists who might not admit it today, but Wu had (in RZA‘s words) “everybody changin’ their muh’fukkin’ name”. When Raekwon’s Cuban Linx dropped, and every member busted out with the “a.k.a.” shit, I can’t count how many people followed up for the next two years or so with some kinda alias. Nas was “Escobar”, 2Pac was “Makaveli”, Biggie was pushin’ the “Frank White” shit hard, AZ became “Sosa”, Fat Joe was “Don Cartagena”… it was a trend that everybody hopped on. Anytime an album features a skit that told rappers to stop bitin’ their shit, and rappers continued to bite their shit, that speaks for itself.
And it wasn’t just the artists in the biz. There were just as many aspiring artists who were damn near practicing copyright infringement. I know from my own encounters, B-More had more than a fair share of groups with 7-10 members that all had aliases. They’d always have these obviously Wu-inspired names like the “Disciple Assassins” or some shit, and hook-less songs with titles like “Left Ventricle” and whatnot. If it was like that here, I can only imagine how it must have been in New York and the surrounding areas. Just like all the other greats had their share of descendants, Wu-Tang definitely had theirs.
If it seems like I’m almost ready to credit these niggas with starting civilization, I ain’t goin’ that far. I just acknowledge that there’s a lot of things that weren’t goin’ on before Wu-Tang did it. RZA‘s production at times stretched the guidelines of what could be sampled, while everyone else was either sticking to jazz or funk records. Then there’s the terms like “cream”, which may have been an everyday word around their way, but became an everyday word in hip-hop after “C.R.E.A.M.” dropped. All that “doin’ deals with Dominicans/eatin’ pasta with the Sicilians/coke connects in Bolivia” shit niggas were rappin’ about? Yeah, them. I could even talk about how Meth had dudes wearing gold fangs and wristbands and motorcycle gloves and shit, but y’all get the point.
With Wu-Tang, it was mostly all about the music. But inside of that music, and all the things that came with it, the whole game got affected in one way or another. There’s a lot of crews to this day who talk about having a “movement”, but theirs was shown and proven without the propaganda and slogans. That “Wu-Tang Killa Bees, we on a swarm” shit wasn’t just a slick-sounding catchphrase, it actually went down like that.
As promised… this is Wu-Week, as I will be covering some of the things that made the Wu-Tang Clan important not only to me as a listener, but to hip-hop as a whole. Clearly, I gotta start where their story begins. Nah, not the “Come Do Me” or “We Love You Rakeem” videos… the debut album, Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers), which hit the stores 16 years ago today.
Around mid-’93, the buzz started on the Clan, off the strength of their “Protect Ya Neck” single. Then came “Method Man”- a joint that I recall hearing on the radio a few times one weekend, and by the following week, every other dude at my school was repeating that “M-E-T-H-O-D… Man!” hook. There was a lot of new music about to drop then, so my ears were all over the place at that point. I was mostly looking forward to albums by Snoop Dogg, Black Moon, KRS-One, A Tribe Called Quest, and even Erick Sermon‘s first solo joint. I liked the Wu’s singles, but I wasn’t actually dying to hear the album, and I didn’t even know what day it was coming out.
But that November, about a week or two after it dropped, that’s when the shit kicked off for me. I went into a record store, intending to cop Das EFX‘s second album, Straight Up Sewaside… but they were playing 36 Chambers in the store. It was at the end of “Wu-Tang Clan Ain’t Nuthin’ To Fuck Wit” and about to head into “C.R.E.A.M.” By the time “C.R.E.A.M.” ended and Meth was threatening to tie Raekwon to a bedpost with his asscheeks spread out ‘n’ shit [STOP], I was sold.
I might’ve listened to that Das album about five or six times total, but I played 36 Chambers to death all the way into the spring of ’94. The Wu’s rise in the game came almost strictly off of street buzz and word-of-mouth, and I can understand why. If everybody else reacted the same way about the album that I did, then one person told five people, who told 10 people and so forth. I can’t count how many heads I put on to it, and I definitely ended up dubbing it for a number of muh’fukkas.
As I said earlier, there was other good stuff out there, but Wu was in a whole ‘nother zone. Sound-quality wise, the shit sounded like they recorded it on a blank tape and turned it in. Yet, at the same time, it was perfect. I can’t even picture hearing it any other way today. Whether intentional or not, it sounds exactly like the “Protect Ya Neck” video looked. The same way that video was EXTRA low-budget (even by ’93 standards), and still drove their movement ahead… 36 Chambers sounded like a rough demo, but blew everybody else’s shit away.
I, and everyone I knew, literally listened to that tape until we knew every word of it. From the 12 actual songs (or 11, depending on how you count the two versions of “7th Chamber”) to the skits (“Is he, is he, is he dead?”) to that long-ass interview in the middle. The Karate flick samples, RZA‘s beats, and of course the lyrics made it (and the Clan itself) a hands-down favorite for me. They even ended up going platinum, which I’m not even sure they expected, but officially established them as one of the top groups in the game.
With little to no advance hype or huge radio record, Wu-Tang blew the fukk up with an album that was too great to be ignored once the public caught wind of it. It was the beginning of a hellafied run for the Wu, which I’ll get into further with my next entry. 36 Chambers is the most perfect imperfect album I’ve ever heard, and I doubt I’ll hear another like it. Nobody does it like this anymore… not even them.
Unfortunately, I’m not sure I can say the same about the NYC hip-hop scene. Of course, there’s a few artists still carrying the torch, including that dude who’s about to have the 11th #1 album of his career. But 2009 is in sharp contrast to the days when the Empire State was THE place to be. Whereas now, many NY artists make creative stretches to appeal to the rest of the United States, there was a time when the rest of the U.S. was aiming to do what THEY were doing.
But that started changing in the early-’90s. With more and more artists coming out of Cali and other areas, NY wasn’t the only show in town anymore. The success of N.W.A. led to more and more West Coast acts being signed, and they were coming out with heavier topics than most East Coast artists were covering. That’s not to say New York wasn’t still coming out with good music, but Cali’s music was gaining on them in terms of popularity. Then, in ’92, Dr. Dre‘s The Chronic album came out and officially swung the momentum to the left.
By late-’93, it was obvious that the West Coast was in the forefront of the rap game. To many East Coast heads, it wasn’t so much that the New York scene was non-existent or anything, but it appeared to be in need of a new movement. Even though there were still some notable records coming out of there, it was clear that Onyx and Das EFX (or the bunch of groups that sounded like them) weren’t exactly gonna lead the league. NYC needed new blood that could create enough energy to have a strong presence that would match what Dre, Snoop, Ice Cube, ‘Pac, etc. were doing.
Much like how NY’s felt over the last five years or so, there was an urgency to get back in the game. “G-Funk” was making impact all over while the East Coast sound was only hitting it big on the East Coast. Not to mention, the South was on the rise. The difference between then and now, however, is that the up-and-coming artists from New York got focused. They didn’t try to sound like they were from Cali, they didn’t spend more time complaining than recording, and they didn’t make mediocre records while claiming to “bring New York back”. They put their hoodies and Tims on, and stomped onto the scene with quality music.
A lot of them still weren’t necessarily doing Doggystyle numbers or getting heavy MTV airplay, but their presence wasn’t going unnoticed. There was the Wu-Tang Clan, who brought in new images, new slang, and new sounds. There was Nas, who played a big part in bringing lyricism back into a world of tiggedy-tiggedy-tongue-twistin’ shit. There was the Boot Camp Click, who may not have become superstars, but still had a heavy movement on the underground/street level. And then, there was Bad Boy Records, which brought forth a mainstream-viable but street-credible sound comparable to what Death Row was doing out West.
There was a new look for a city that had been in a holding pattern through the previous couple years. Producers like DJ Premier and The RZA were providing the beats that helped push things forward. The subject matter was deeper, the concepts got more creative, the lyrics got better. Eventually, it did start translating to major mainstream success, and by ’96, New York City was back on top of the game. Of course, that success also came with conflict and even some internal turmoil, but the power was back on in the city.
As someone who liked all of the different styles from different areas, I gotta admit that I was rooting for the East Coast to get back on top. I felt like they were putting out the better material but being overlooked at one point. It was a classic time because it seemed like friendly (or maybe-not-friendly) competition had these niggas makin’ some excellent shit one after another. Some of the artists themselves have since noted that they were all vying to be the shit back then, which of course resulted in some great albums and singles.
Today, the industry is totally different, and I doubt the few signed artists from NY have the creative space to do what those dudes did. But if there is still any intention to “bring it back”, a lot can be learned from the creative spirit that fueled the ’93-’95 era.
So… on June 10, 1997, I graduated completed high school and went the hell home, glad to be up outta there. My senior year was on some straight bullshit, and I was definitely given a hard way to go through that whole ride. Finally, I was out, with not a clue as to what my next move was. Meanwhile, I figured I might as well enjoy the summer… why not?
During this time, I started DJing at parties with a dude from my old neighborhood named Troy Rock, who I always used to bug when I was younger. He was the DJ around there, and I was just a lil’ kid asking him to make tapes for me and shit like that. By ’97, I was good enough to play at parties, so I took advantage of the opportunity. I didn’t get paid much, but I was more pumped off having the chance to play in front of people and use the Technics 1200s.
But my main focus was still rappin’, and I was really ready to put a lot of time into that. I knew a couple of producers around this time, so I was trying to work with them and get things off the ground. My Plan A and Plan B at that time were both in music. I was gonna work on my own music, and get money by DJing- anything else wasn’t of my concern. I even remember a meeting at school shortly before I graduated completed, at which I told the administrators that THOSE were my plans. “Well don’t you think you should get work or go to school?” Nope, I was gonna rap and spin. Ohhh, the naivete.
In the midst of all that, I was up to my same madness. I was halfway dealin’ with a girl named Tasha (in the grad pic) by this point, but mainly on the field. I wasn’t partial to drinking yet, but I stayed smokin’ with my brother and his cast of characters. I actually liked listening to the radio, and of course I was still watching videos. I wanted to start goin’ to the 17+ clubs around this time, but I never actually went. I wasn’t much into dancing, and I didn’t fukk with Baltimore Club music too hard… so I wasn’t gonna go there and hold up the wall. Just wasn’t my thing.
I really had no idea what I was gonna do except buy more notebooks and more records. My life plan was hare-brained at best, but hell if I didn’t decide to go with it. I don’t really regret it, but I probably woulda done it differently in retrospect. At the time, I was just in my own zone- drinkin’ Surge, smokin’ weed, writin’ lyrics, and askin’ questions later.
The Danj! Summer Seven of 1997 (NOTE:Life After Death is exempt from this list- I ran that WHOLE thing just as much as I did these seven.):
Busta Rhymes “Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Can See”: Honestly, I thought this shit was wack the first time I heard it. The second, third, fourth…? You couldn’t tell me it wasn’t the shit. What the dealy, yo?
Wu-Tang Clan “Triumph”: That Wu-Tang Forever joint was a lil’ hit-and-miss for me, but they came out swingin’ with the lead single. Also, the video had me on some “wow” shit for a minute there.
Lauryn Hill “The Sweetest Thing”: …and nah, wasn’t him in this one either. But “Ms. Hill” continued building on her stardom with this one, a year before she would REALLY shut it down with the Miseducation.
IN CASE YOU MISSED ‘EM: Check out the other Summer Sevens HERE.
So yeah… ’95 was a great year. YOU see the picture.
That was my old girl Aisha, a situation that ended up jumping off-and-on for the next three years. It was one of those relationships where the counterparts stay at each other’s throats, but always manage to end up cool again. We met at school in ’93, when I was a freshman who was crazy into her, and she was a junior who couldn’t be less interested. After about a year-plus of like and dislike, we finally ended up together in late-’94. By summer ’95, we were way into each other and GTD-ing on the regular (whenever we weren’t arguing over THEE dumbest shit).
In other news, I was 15 and flexin’ nuts. I was at the rec for the summer again, and spending blowing my money more responsibly. I had also begun DJing by this time, although I def. wasn’t ready for prime-time yet. But in the process of stepping my game up, I made a connection with DJ Base, who at the time was on WEAA‘s Strictly Hip-Hop show. I used to listen to that shit faithfully, hoping one day I could parlay this connection into possibly getting a spot on the show. I stayed on my lil’ starter kit every day, fukkin’ up needles and bein’ the best Kid Capri I could try to be.
In addition to that, I was starting to venture out with my rap aspirations too. That summer, I performed on stage for the first time at a showcase held at Monique‘s Comedy Club. I also made an appearance on 92Q‘s “Battle of the Baltimore MCs” segment, which at the time was my first time rhyming on the radio (but not my last… wait for ’98). Whenever I wasn’t making (turrible) mixtapes, I was making tapes of my “songs” over my favorite instrumentals. I didn’t really have my mind on “gettin’ on” at the time; I was all about findin’ an avenue to be heard first and foremost, one way or the other.
One pattern in all of these years (that even I’ve noticed while typing these entries) is that a LOT of shit I did revolved around music. I tried to get into sports and other shit, but it was never my thing. I found more enjoyment in taping videos or buying records than I did in developing my athletic skills (or lack thereof). I wasn’t gonna make it into the 3-on-3 basketball tournament or any of that… but I sure the fukk knew what day Cuban Linx was comin’ out.
Luniz “I Got 5 On It”: Messin’ with that indo weed, the Luniz fukked around and made a classic for all those who engage in the herbal practice.
Grand Puba “I Like It”: Puba continues his solo run, and the DeBarge family continues to cash them checks. The term “stinkbox” is still a lil’ disturbing, but that’s neither here nor there.
Raekwon feat. Ghostface Killah “Criminology”: Rae’s Only Built 4 Cuban Linx KILT every other album that dropped around that time (with Mobb Deep’s Infamous being a possible exception)… this being one reason why.
Posted by Danj! 
