Gems II

In 1987, I was ten years old. This means, by simple addition, I was twenty in 1997. If there is a more influential age to grow up in....an era where hip-hop went from minor commercial attention to a mainstream juggernaut, with grandmothers comically rapping in advertisements, wedding ceremonies consisting of flashy, Sean "Puffy" Combs-produced club hits and the overuse of such words as "balla"....if there was a more influential era to submerse yourself into, I don't know what it is.
It was more important than punk and it had much more to say to it's listeners than any extreme music genre that exists. Rock may not have been dead, but it sure as fuck had no message or meaning behind it, no matter what way you try to validate concerts such as Live Aid, etc. Rock grew tired of itself. Extreme music had already started to gravitate towards it's current state, which involve an unspeakable elitism and jaded opinionism. Hip-hop was speaking TO it's listeners instead of thinking they had the right to speak FOR them. If they did choose to speak for the masses, it was done with a respect and frustration that was understandable. Plus, on top of all of that, even platinum hip-hop artists in that era were still pretty damn broke. Major labels swooped in at this time to take on certain artists. Most had no real manager behind them, just a friend down the street that seemed acceptable for the role. More often than not, I'm willing to bet almost every contract signed was almost 100% in favor of the label and most artists were just happy to escape their everyday struggles, but if just for a moment.

Then again....what the fuck do I know? I'm still who I was twenty four years ago when I was introduced to hip hop: just another white kid from the suburbs. Actually, not even the suburbs, but a town in one of the most bland and unimportant (but, beautiful) states in the country, New Hampshire. Though I lived only an hour and a half from Boston and only six hours from New York City, where this culture I had accepted as my own was thriving, I may as well have been on the moon.

I guess that's my point. Life-changing art forms, soul-speaking inspirations, thought provoking revelations.....you don't find them. They, in turn, find you. Without abusing the tired cliches, hip-hop is absolutely more than music. I don't believe that it's just a lifestyle. I believe, instead, that it is a medium-spanning culture and art form which gives it's listener, reader and receiver the gift of deciding how you want it to affect your life. Hip-hop can be either an escape, or the catalyst towards motivation that would have never been garnered through other grounds.

After hip-hop found and guided me, I took it in then as I do now. It's always with me, and there are moments, such as now, where I am reminded how much of my thoughts and daily life were influenced by it. I never felt the need to carry the official representative flag wherever I went, as when time went by I noticed others were compelled to do. It never became more prevalent as later in these years, once the west coast was being given alot of attention, specifically during the N.W.A. years, followed by Dr. Dre's "The Chronic" and the whole Death Row Records affiliated family, and finally the epic rise and death of Tupac Shakur. Somehow, it even infested the most unexplainable of places. Here I was, Ryan McKenney of small Dover, New Hampshire, a chubby kid with a ghostlike complexion that loved hip-hop, loved the beat, but couldn't quite grasp most of the west coast gangsta rap that was emerging. Why? Because I didn't live that life and no goddamn way was I going to even act like I did. Evidently, some peers of mine disagreed. They wanted their lives to imitate the art that they had now surfaced to embrace. Except, to them this meant moonlighting as the rappers that they listened to. All of a sudden (as ridiculous and laughable as this may sound) red or blue rags were hanging from back pockets of oversized, sagging jeans. Kids were forming what they referred to as "posses"....I'm not joking. I wish I could remember some of the names that were come up with for them. It was hilarious. Hats were being worn every way but to the front. Lanky white kids that had never left the state were dawning leather necklaces emblazoned with the outline of Africa. Fifteen year old kids were walking with a limp and trying to cut their stringy hair into a fade or attempting to have cornrows for no reason other than they saw it in a video......all of these young, naive idiots wishing that mean streets or culture-rich boroughs existed in little Dover, New Hampshire and never realizing how much better off they were that these mean streets weren't there (though, the culture-rich boroughs would have been nice...). In this place, the threat level was green.....and that's why all those kids get this:

Maybe it's judgemental of me. maybe I have no right to have had a problem with all of this, but the truth is I had no choice. After hip-hop found me, I felt as if I owed it something. I felt as if I shouldn't ever do anything to insult it, and watching bored, fortunate kids try to take these very realistic forms of expression and contort it into something of their own, something that they felt the need to imitate, much like the reason school shootings were blamed on Marilyn Manson and demented teenage murders are blamed on television programs like Dexter, watching these impostors (or perpetrators?) just pissed me off...made me disgusted with the identity theft occurring. I think the thing that pissed me off the most was that I knew it was only a matter of time before the culture was completely compromised, leaving us quiet die-hards nothing more than memories.

Gems III

It took a bit of effort to remember certain records in order to remember certain time frames of my life. I bought various books in the last few weeks to help kick start some thoughts. Considering how important the era was for the genre, it's amazing the lack of attention and focus it receives in many publications. Most of them highlight the genesis of hip-hop within the five boroughs of New York City, but stop the story around 1984-1985.....just when it was getting good. The story doesn't end there. The story has never ended. There is no finish line.
The difference here between, say, someone studying every wikipedia page to learn everything they can to be viewed as having a wide span of knowledge on the subject, and the way I've approached my last few weeks of searching....the difference between the two is that I've had all this in my head for decades. I remember all of these releases first hand. I remember the anticipation of every weekend, my version of new release day. The books I've looked at lately and the crawling around the Internet have just been there to help me....they have been there to help me reminisce.
......and YouTube. This may have been the first time in it's existence that I realized how much more than office freakouts and ticklish kittens it both offers and contains. I don't want to dive into it all right here. I'd rather give "YO! MTV Raps" it's just deserve and devote more than a few paragraphs.....much more than a few paragraphs. That show was the reason I'm happy to be antisocial and I'll explain why that is.

This is the first subject in a very long while that I'm truly excited to dedicate my time to. There are only so many pieces of fiction I can write, only so many mundane childhood thoughts from the white bread society that are worth the effort of a campfire tale. I'm not sure how many can or will relate. I'm not sure how many of my peers, my age group, will remember all of this the way I do, which is finding something larger than life, taking it in and then running for it.
I'm hoping there are quite a few of you. I'm hoping that I can speak about all of this in a way that brings it all back in your minds as well. I want everyone that was lucky (and old...) enough to remember that golden, golden era and relive some past inspirations.
I want you to remember the firsts: the first time you heard about Run DMC's Adidas sneakers with no laces, the first time Rob Base's lyrics on "It takes Two" were stuck in your head on repeat, the first time KRS-ONE gave you Edutainment, the first time you saw five mics in The Source, the first time you saw Nasir Jones' video for "Halftime" late on a Friday night on MTV courtesy of Dr. Dre and Ed Lover, the last five minutes of every episode of In Living Color, the first time you saw Juice and witnessed how multi-talented 2Pac was, the first time you entered the 36 Chambers, the first time you were forced to Jump Around, the first time listening to Blowout Comb, which in turn blew your mind, the first time you heard the purple tape.....the first time you realized your addiction to the voices and the words and the music and the films.
For everyone born between 1974 and 1979, we have the privilege of being birthed at the same time as hip-hop itself. We grew up together. We had our rough moments of confusion and feelings of being lost together. We've found ways to be on the right track together. We found happiness and belonging together. The only difference, thankfully, is that when us humans fade away and our hearts beat for the last time, we can be confident in knowing the beat is still infinitely flowing somewhere else.

Gems IV

While I may have heard a few songs before this, I'm pretty sure RUN-DMC's "It's Like That" was the first track that knocked me for a loop. I was somewhere around seven or eight years old when I heard it, which was late 1984/early 1985. It was just immediate, my reaction. This was before my family had cable, so I didn't see it on MTV. I think the clip was on some late night program, and I lucked out changing the channels just in time. It wasn't a music video. I can't exactly remember what it was, besides a few photos while the song played. RUN-DMC was like nothing I had ever heard before. An abrasive, thunderous beat intertwined with a creepy, high pitched synth wailing in the back. So new, so original, so perfect. My eyes were fixed on the screen for that five minutes.
The next day, a Saturday, I went with my mother to go grocery shopping. I ended up in the magazine section, looking at a Rolling Stone article on none other than the (now) Rev "Run", Darryl Mac, and Jam-Master Jay. Just the way they presented themselves was so cool to me. The track suits, the hats, the b-boy stance in the photos. They seemed larger than life.
After reading the article, I wanted to do nothing more than hear the record. The only problem was I had no stereo. I had no cassette deck, no walkman....nothing in my room where I could let the music flow and soak it in. There was a small cassette player and turntable in our living room, but the odds of making a purchase and having the freedom to press "play" in there was null.
So, I did what you do when you feel the obsession starting. I waited. I started paying attention to late night television and to music magazine articles. I knew that at some point, I'd have a way to listen to music on my own, and when that time came, I'd be ready. In the meantime, RUN-DMC kept reminding me of what I could look forward to. New singles kept popping up randomly on late night weekend television, "Rock Box" and "Sucker M.C.s" were heard on the local college radio station, followed the next year by "King of Rock" and "Rock the House".
The college radio station saved me late at night on those weekends. There was a pair of headphones in the living room, and nights where my parents went to bed first, I'd plug them in and listen to a hip-hop show that aired for an hour. I was introduced to Afrika Bambaataa, Kurtis Blow, Funky Four plus One, Fat Boys, Doug E. Fresh, and Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five (whose "The Message" became a song I crossed my fingers I'd get the opportunity to hear every week).
I'd take trips to the mall only for two things: to look for Star Wars figures and to go into music stores and look at the cassettes and records, taking note of the artists I'd heard. I wanted to start filing away in my brain the releases they had....I was taking inventory. When the time came to have a tape deck in my room, I'd be ready to spend allowance and birthday money on the right selections.
RUN-DMC gained more and more attention. 1986 was a huge year in hip-hop for me. Two words: Raising Hell. Where to start with the sound of this LP is beyond me. "It's Tricky" is, to me, one of the most incredible songs of all time. RUN-DMC blew up. Oddly enough, the song that catapulted them into mainstream success was my least favorite. "Walk This Way", a duet with Aerosmith was played everywhere (to this day, I can't stand Aerosmith. Steven Tyler's obnoxious screeching ruined the song for me....it was even worse when I saw the band in the video, looking like ridiculous rock stars). We had just gotten cable, so my music options and gateways had started to unlock and slowly open. The video for the single was constantly in rotation. At least three times a day you could flip the channel to MTV and see it. Once I had heard "It's Tricky", though, I was so hooked, there was no option. It was time. I needed a tape deck.
My birthday fell two months after the release of Raising Hell. I told my parents that all I really wanted was my own stereo. Nothing special, just something that would play tapes. September 26th, 1986 landed, and so did that stereo in my lap. It was no boom box....it was like the dwarf cousin of a ghettoblaster. A small, six inch by eleven inch tape player with one speaker. But, to me, it looked like the holy grail. I don't think I've ever been so thankful for a birthday gift. My parents could tell what was about to happen. With the stereo, they bought me two cassettes to start my collection. The Ghostbusters soundtrack and Micheal Jackson's Thriller.....both are still records I can listen to and appreciate.
About a month later, Raising Hell was mine.....all mine. I was in a department store with my mom, and while she was going through the aisles shopping, I slipped away, bought the tape and shoved it in my back pocket before she could see what I was doing (sorry, mom....you're probably reading this. I had no choice....I figured you'd feel the same about hip-hop as your parents felt about rock and roll...that it would corrupt the youth.). My elation over having a RUN-DMC record in my possession was through the roof. I couldn't wait until I was the only one home, able to press play and listen to Jam-Master Jay on the wheels of steel, while Run and Darryl Mac shouted crazy lines at me though that mono speaker.
The first listen was out of control. Here I was, listening to twelve consecutive RUN-DMC songs in a row. "Peter Piper"? "My Adidas"? Nine years old and my perception of music as a whole was drastically altered. Much later on, as I dove into the world of producers, you realize just how very essential Rick Rubin was to the beginning of the new school of hip-hop. The hybrid of rock and dense, heavy, minimal beats were groundbreaking. He was smart enough to manipulate the mainstream into taking notice of this rising art form.
There was a ton of press for the album. You saw these three guys' pictures everywhere, profiled in a hard stance, Adidas with no laces and the tongues sticking out. Between them and the Beastie Boys, hip-hop was starting to become recognized as a true art form. There are a lot of records that I consider much better, but this would be one of the top five I consider as most important.
I continued to follow them throughout their career. Tougher than Leather was next up for the trio, and like it's previous effort, was just as crucial. Most of the rock was gone. The heavy beats still remained, but was surrounded by a lot of samples. Both RUN and DMC were still shouting, though. And, in turn, were still making impressive, abrasive songs.
They fell off the map, for me at least, for a few years. Down With the King was the album and single that brought them back for me. A classic in my eyes. To be off the radar for a bit and then come back with one of the hardest songs they ever recorded was nothing less than praiseworthy. Pete Rock's production on this song was nothing short of a perfectly executed east coast beat, bass-heavy and driving. To top it all off, C.L. Smooth's verse in this song is, to this day, the epitome of a guest appearance. Short, confident and leaving you wanting more.....just an extra eight bars would have filled me up.
After this album, I lost touch. with them. I ended up seeing them once in 1997 on an "Old-School Reunion" tour, with Sugarhill Gang and a few others. I think Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five was there, though I can't be sure. I wish I could remember.
Between Run becoming Reverend Run and DMC losing his vocal cords to a point where rapping wasn't possible the way he used to, we were left with what history they had already made, knowing there would be nothing more that would be considered classic material. The murder of Jam-Master Jay sealed that with a defining key into the lock. You heard the click, and then watched it thrown into the ocean to never be touched again. Occasionally, there's a reunion of sorts, Simmons and McDaniels performing songs individually or together, backed by many of the artists they inspired.
Though they'll always be a cornerstone in my hip-hop memories, their time to truly shine was from 1984 up until 1993. That's the golden era of their own that they created. I still frequently revisit my Raising Hell and Tougher than Leather tapes, and every time I watch Die Hard I get to hear them do a holiday rap. Some day I'll be able to afford all the deluxe versions of these albums, re-released with a ridiculous amount of bonus tracks and material. Until then, I can be one-hundred percent satisfied with the original albums. Why? Because they are fucking awesome.

Gems V

Boogie Down Productions was next for me, specifically the voice and words of KRS-ONE. Criminal Minded came out in 1987 The cover art alone had sold me. Two guys deadpanning into the camera holding guns, seeming simultaneously both confident and angry.....they just looked...serious. KRS-ONE had a belt of shotgun shells draped over his shoulder. It looked as if the photo had been taken in the middle of a poker game in a sketchy alleyway, cards being tossed in the middle of the table as war tactics were heatedly discussed. It simply had a stark and menacing image, and the image did it's job, which was to capture my attention.
"South Bronx" had been played on the college radio station two weeks before. I had discovered the beauty of blank tapes and having a cassette deck that can record the radio. Once a week, when the radio show would come on, I'd have a blank tape ready. I never recorded the whole hour, instead listening to every song and when one sounded good, I'd press the red button as fast as possible. Comically, this means that for about two years, I'd have all these great singles collected on one blank tape, but every one would have the first five or ten seconds cut off as I would be debating whether or not to use the precious space I had left.
So, "South Bronx" was the track I fell hook, line and sinker for. Just as I had felt when I first heard RUN-DMC, BDP was about to make me fall in love all over again. On the power of that single, I bought the record. Every song on that record is awesome on it's own, but collected as a full body of work, it seems even more important. KRS-ONE was furious, seeming to never calm down as long as there was a microphone near him.
"The Bridge is Over" ended up being the stand-out song for me, a diss-track that pretty much put a nail in the coffin of MC Shan's career. The Bridge Wars was a battle I read about a year or two later, and then all of the tracks had even more light shed on the for me. As far as rap battles, this was still one of the best of all time, mainly because there was such a clear cut winner that literally wiped his opponent off the map....figuratively, not literally. A war battled with words, beginning with words and ending the same. When two artists battle and keep to these guidelines, the end result, no matter who arises victorious, sees both parties involved gaining a new respect for each other.
It's odd to me that my two favorite tracks from Criminal Minded are songs related to the Bridge Wars, but I think it had something to do with how important KRS considered those tracks to be. The lyrics were not there to entertain....they were there to confront, to elevate, and, eventually, to dominate the battle....which he unquestionably did.
There are a few bootlegs around that collect all the tracks back and forth between KRS-ONE and Shan. Listening to them from start to finish is as entertaining as a battle could be. Each artist held his own for a bit, until KRS-ONE did what he did best, which was to crush the competition.

To pick apart all of BDP's output would take forever. Each album had high points that further cemented the legacy. KRS-ONE was noticeably affected by the death of his partner in hip-hop crime, DJ Scott LaRock. Instead of finding another producer, he took on almost all the effort himself from that point on, producing almost every song himself and having almost no guest stars. Both characteristics are almost impossible to find in today's era of hip-hop. It was obviously out of respect for LaRock. BDP was basically those two individuals, and when one is gone, replacement is, ninety-nine times out of one hundred, not an option. KRS-ONE had become a solo artist but still lived in the era of BDP, with a ghost by his side.
By All Means Necessary is, to me, the essential BDP record. More controversial cover art, with KRS imitating the infamous photo of Malcolm X looking out a window with an M1 Carbine rifle. The BDP cover, though, replaced the rifle with an Uzi, updating the photo to modern times.
The record had so many amazing songs, it's impossible to address each and every one. KRS-ONE became "The Teacher", and the entire album had so much to say, it's impossible it fit within the confines of fifty minutes. Starting out with "My Philosophy", there was an immediate notice on my part as to how BDP had changed within one album. The song spoke volumes to me...it did as KRS wanted it to: it informed, it taught and it entertained, all over his booming, attention grasping voice. "Stop the Violence" was the track that stuck in my mind to this day. Such an amazing message done with an amazing approach. Shortly after, the "Self-Destruction" track, video and movement truly made the impact necessary. I remember watching the video and being blown away by the amount of artists involved. Public Enemy, Kool Moe Dee, BDP, Doug E Fresh and Heavy D all in the same place? Goddamn. There ended up being an over sized book that accompanied the movement, which I had bought. As with most treasures I had from this era, I have no idea what came of it, where it could be, and why I didn't keep a tighter grasp on it.
"I'm Still #1 and "Necessary" were the other tracks on the record that found heavy rotation for me. Around this time, I had save up enough money for a cheap walkman, so I had been able to take walks and listen to music on the go, which gave me a sense of freedom that was untouchable. I wore out my first copy of By All Means Necessary within a year, hearing the tape snap inside the walkman. It was a long and quiet twenty minute walk home from that point on.
The next few albums all had great moments, the Live Hardcore Worldwide record being one of the best live hip-hop albums I have ever heard, with KRS-ONE simply holding the crowd in the palm of his hand and commanding them.

KRS finally went "solo" in 1993. Point blank, Return of the Boom Bap was a fucking assault. It was so goddamn good, I couldn't believe it. It wasn't that I had written him off, I just didn't expect him to come with an album so brick hard. Crazy, overexposed cover art of him shouting into a microphone on a chair in the studio. Production by DJ Premier, Kid Capri and Showbiz put the record over the top. Every beat, every rhyme was just so.....hard.
"Outta Here" tossed you into the lion's den right away, followed by having your jaw drop after hearing the rhymes thrown out during "Black Cop". KRS-ONE was not holding back on his solo debut, and as a sixteen year old kid hearing this for the first time, it did nothing short of make me want to put on war paint. The defining point of album, the defining song, is one that is still referenced every day....within movies, songs by other artists, in everyday speak on most every street: "Sound of da Police". Holy shit, what a song! KRS coming in acapella with a "Woop! Woop!", and then a few lines later the beat drops. And then? It's all over.....bigger than "Fuck the Police"....bigger than "Pigs"....it was the biggest "Fuck You" to cops....ever. This song is perfect. For the first two weeks after I bought the tape, I didn't even get to the B-side. I just kept rewinding the A-side so that I could hear that "Woop! Woop!" again.
His next album, self titled, had a few weak parts, but the good songs made up for it. DJ Premier was still producing songs the way he always has and always will, which is head and shoulders above his peers. A little bit of keyboard, a little bit of bell ringing, and a hell of a lot of style. "MCs Act Like They Don't Know" was the first single, I think. I remember the video premier on YO!, and immediately wondered when the album would finally come out. Like I said, some of it was hit or miss, but Primo's songs, the track done by Showbiz (Represent the Real Hip-Hop with DAS EFX) and the tracks he produced himself were mostly really good. "Free Mumia" with Channel Live was so dark and intense. Now that I've mentioned Channel Live, I'm going to have to go break out "Station Identification" and go on a diatribe about that one later.
I still feel the need for some BDP once every couple weeks. Not only because the albums involved were so memorable, but it also triggers an age where everything was starting to be exposed for me. As funny as it may sound, I learned a lot of my life lessons from records called Criminal Minded, By All Means Necessary and Sex and Violence.

Gems VI

I'm going to lump the rest of the eighties into one (undeserved) post. Not because I want to, but more because I have to.....at least for the moment. If I continue to go on diatribes of each album on the years of 86-89, I'll never get past the decade, which is something I want to do.
In the year 1989, I turned twelve years old. Being the same age as hip-hop itself, we both had a pivotal year for many reasons. First, it was my last year as being considered a kid, the last year before turning into a teenager. I was starting to grow up and expand and experiment....just like hip-hop.
The eighties were feeling grounds, both hip-hop and I unsure of our futures, unsure of our surroundings or what we were capable of. The end of 1989 birthed a new decade. I went on to junior high school. Hip-hop went on to more major label attention. Both of us had our fuck ups and both of us found ways to search out and find purpose, focusing on positivity while still acknowledging the negative aspects.
When I became a teenager, so did hip-hop. This means I have to sum up our "youth" in brief snippets right now before returning later on, reflecting on exact instances I remember involving certain albums, reading certain magazines and watching certain films.

So, in fast forward, this is youth:

Around the time of RUN-DMC's rise, there were other names lumped in with them, with modern pop culture media attempting to acknowledge hip-hop. Magazines like Rolling Stone all of a sudden gave a shit about the genre as a whole and not just groups that do songs with shitheads like Aerosmith. On one hand, it was welcomed and those that appreciated the art form were happy to see it get some much needed and deserved love. The other hand caused frustration as the obviously uninformed tried their best to bullshit a way through an article they had absolutely no prior knowledge of.
That's besides the point.
Beastie Boys released "License to Ill". They blew up almost immediately. I tried to love them. The record has it's moments, and if the whole albums made me feel like "Rhymin and Stealin" did, I would have been another to worship at the altar of three white boys from Brooklyn. I will say, however, that I did think some of their albums were fantastic. Paul's Boutique was a mindfuck in the best of ways. Check Your Head will always be their classic, their premium album in, well, my head. Their follow-up to that LP, Ill Communication was right up there with it, before "Sureshot" got so overplayed in every circle of life it became unbearable to listen to for a while.
Eric B and Rakim's "Paid in Full" came out, "I Ain't No Joke" being the song that turned my head.
Public Enemy. Enough said. I can't even start about them right now or I'll need another ten pots of coffee and will call in sick to work for the next three days. They deserve much more description than I have time for right now.
NWA introduced the world to gangsta rap. "Straight Outta Compton" is in the top five hardest songs of all time. Period. These dudes were so pissed, they make every Discharge song sound like they were sung by schoolchildren. Blasphemy for a punk to say? Probably. But, truth? Definitely. Fab Five Freddy introducing them on YO! MTV Raps was such a memorable moment. Once Ice Cube, Eazy-E and Dr. Dre went and did solo albums, their legacy as a group became even more important. Shit, even MC Ren's "Kizz My Black Azz" EP was quality.
EPMD came out with "Strictly Business" and planted their feet into fresh cement. The following few years and releases for them are much like those footprints....they'll be noticed for a very long time, especially with Erick Sermon still making good music (most of Method Man and Redman's "Blackout" is still the best production he has done.).
Lighthearded MCs started to surface, with Biz Markie and DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince presenting a more lighthearted version of east coast hip-hop. Biz was incredible...an almost muppet-like character that is still today one of the most entertaining individuals to ever be involved the the creation of this music, with "Just a Friend" still sealing the deal as a classic. Same with Jazzy Jeff and Mr. Will Smith...."He's the DJ, I'm the Rapper" is still listenable, still bizarre and comical. I mean, there are songs about Freddy Krueger, stealing and crashing your parents' car, bodyguards, etc. Plus, it was when CDs were new and had less room on them, so those of us that lived in cassette world, we got an extra couple of minutes and tracks on this record. Last but not least, Kid 'N Play introduced themselves.....say what you want about the albums, but they were important, if only, because it gave them access to create personas that carried on into feature films that I consider hip-hop classics. More on that at some other point.
Females besides Roxanne Shante started getting respect, Queen Latifah, MC Lyte and Salt-N-Pepa being at the forefront, while others like Monie Love were still making good songs without as much attention.
On the other end of the spectrum was 2 Live Crew. It was never, and will never be, my thing. I can't relate to almost anything their entire lyric output entailed. I don't care about booty bass. I don't care about shock for the sake of shock, with no validity behind it, whether you take it to the United States Supreme Court or not. No matter what way it was "meant to be perceived", misogyny is not a part of my hip-hop. Strippers and prostitutes are not a part of my hip-hop. At almost thirty three years of age, I've still never even been to a strip club. Sad....pathetic? You decide. I'm okay with it, and I'll stick to songs like Pete Rock and C.L. Smooth's "Lots of Lovin" and be just fine. It's (my opinion..) not about being some PC hippie bullshitter....it's just about being a human.
Kool G Rap and DJ Polo's "Road to Riches", Big Daddy Kane's "Long Live the Kane" and "It's a Big Daddy Thing", LLCool J's slew of albums, as well as Ice-T's (including "6 in the Mornin', which was on ninety five percent of every mixtapes I ever made), The D.O.C.'s "No One Can Do it Better".....all of these came out in this time frame. Looking back, it's unbelievable....it's another reason it can all be described as golden.
MC Serch and Prime Minister Pete Nice fronted one of hip-hop's first interracial groups in #rd Bass. The Cactus Album is released, and almost every motherfucker on this planet felt "The Gas Face". Why? Because they had skills. Because they weren't a gimmick. Because their lifestyle wasn't created by a record executive looking to cash in. Because their records are still great, even by today's standards, and because they never turned on what they started. Serch brought Nas to greatness, put out an incredible solo album ("Return of the Product") and just a few years ago, worked with Ego Trip on VH1's The (White) Rapper Show. I've read they (Ego Trip) are doing a new book about white rappers....my bet is that Serch will be heavily, heavily involved, within not only the content, but the entire production. 3rd Bass made me feel like I didn't need to question my love for the culture, as if I was intruding on something I wasn't supposed to.

So, that's a brief and minimal rundown. Trying to open a ten ton can of worms within a few paragraphs is impossible. Like I said before, my main goal is to cover everything I can whenever time permits, and this was the best starting point I could come up with.
I'm also not going to sit here and act like I was waiting out front of the record store every Tuesday knowing release dates. Some of these records took me three, four, five years to discover. I am no aficionado. What I am, however, is an enthusiast, which I consider even more important. I don't remember every song title, all the lyrics to every LP, who produced every track, etc. But what I do recall is how these records as a whole, influenced me.....and that is what this is all about....not statistics, nor biographies of each artist.....it's about the affect these artists and albums had to my ears, my head and, ultimately, my life.