Prince Paul - A Prince Among Thieves (2xLP, 1999)

Prince Paul might be too sharp for his own good.

This album should have been a monumental moment for hip hop, but instead, it performed poorly on the charts and only got Paul critical respect - no chart love. But fuck it: ask anyone who knows anything about this record, and they'll tell you how not-of-this-earth it is. Prince Paul is really the only person that could have pulled a "rap opera" off and not had it suck, and he did it, thanks not only to his stellar beats, but also to his gaggle of famous friends.

But I get it: there's a lot of talking on this record, and it's an hour and fifteen minutes long. It's a bit of a commitment. Well, make yourself a version without the skits, and roll with it. You'll find that even if you ignore the story - and I wouldn't blame you if you did; it's not like you need to hear the skits over and over - this record is filled with dope-ass tracks. Big Daddy Kane's "Macula's Theory" and Kool Keith's "Weapon World" are worth the price of admission alone. And "The Men in Blue" features Everlast's best post-House of Pain performance.

I get why this album wasn't popular (in that selling-lots-of-records way), and even I'll admit that I have to be in the right mood to want to take in the constantly-shifting sounds that this thing pumps out. But when I'm ready for it, I still marvel that this album exists. It's just so damn ambitious.

And its "failure" is probably one of the reasons Prince Paul tends to get pissy about the music biz sometimes. His next record is a prime example.

"A Prince Among Thieves"

Prince Markie Dee - Love Daddy (LP, 1995)

I can't remember how I found out that Prince Markie Dee from the Fat Boys had a solo record (actually, I think he has two), and I still can't remember why I gave a shit. Because I hate the Fat Boys. I like the idea of the Fat Boys, and they're funny in that I-can't-believe-society-let-that-happen sort of way, but their music is flat-out awful.

But maybe that's why I was so curious about the prospect of Prince Markie Dee reinventing himself for the 90's. Dude was still in his mid-to-late twenties when this record dropped (my crack research has his first solo record coming out in '92, btw), so it wasn't like he was washed-up by definition, but things had certainly shifted in the hip hop world, even in the years between this record and his previous one. Sadly, Markie took the route that almost certainly cancels the career of any rapper that dares walk the path: an album filled to the brim with slow jams.

If the title didn't tip you off, dude was out to rebirth himself as an irresistible ladies man, and while better rappers have made the same ill-fated move (I'm looking at you, Big Daddy Kane,) few were brash enough to do nothing but that. This album is straight sex-up songs, front to back. And one is indiscernible from the next. Some are more gentlemanly than pornographic, but for the most part it's a mix of both. He's charming, debonaire, but also wants to rub things on you until they release fluid (Yikes).) He also seems to have an unhealthy obsession with biting. It's all very troubling.

Yet, somehow, I'm still curious to hear his first solo record. Even though I can't get through this one. Huh.

"Crunchtime"

Prime Minister Pete Nice & Daddy Rich - Dust to Dust (CD, 1993)

It's a damn shame that Pete Nice only put out one solo record, because this album is dope. Of course, when it comes to 3rd Bass, I was always more of a Nice man than a Serch man, so maybe I'm biased. But I've always loved listening to Pete's smooth flows on this record, and even though I'll admit things get a little cloudy in parts, I've just always been happy that this thing exists. It's not that Pete didn't get time to shine on the 3rd Bass stuff, because he did. I just always wanted to hear him let loose on the solo creep.

Clearly the 3rd Bass breakup was not a pleasant one, and there's some time spent during the course of these 16 songs picking apart Serch, sometimes blatantly, sometimes not. (Check the not-so-subtle beatdown at the beginning of the "Rat Bastard" video.) Pete was always better at being a smooth guy than a tough guy, but hearing him calmly flex nuts is still mighty amusing. His knack for choruses is questionable, but he makes up for it with verses that are worded carefully and executed well.

Pete prefers the lumbering, deliberate beats, and that can start to weigh pretty heavy towards the middle of this thing. The title track picks shit up at the end, but it should have come earlier in the proceedings. Eh. Still, Pete's got his own thing going on, and this record is more than worth the dollar you'll have to pay for it. It's much darker than Serch's solo record, and I think that's a good thing. I've always been glad both of the dudes broke loose on their own shit right after the group disbanded.

This album seems to have been long-forgotten, but I'd argue that it never got a fair shake. Maybe I'm just a Pete Nice fanboy. I'm OK with that.

"Kick the Bobo"

Positive K - Da Skills Dat Pay Da Bills (CD, 1992)

I bought this CD in a bargain bin like two years ago and have listened to it maybe once. Not sure why, because it's actually way better than I thought it would be. Solid early-90's beats, and dude can rap.

Of course, this album - and K himself - will always be remembered for the MTV hit "I Got a Man," but there's quite a bit more to him than that. "Carhoppers" is basically a recycled version of "I Got a Man," but tracks like "Pass the Mic" and "One 2 the Head" are straight dopeness, and with 16 tracks clocking in at over an hour, there's a solid amount of music here.

Next time I'm going through an early-90's rap phase (and I'm way overdue for one), I'll have to remember to bust this thing out. It's been gathering dust for far too long.

"Ain't No Crime"

Paris - Unleashed (CD, 1998)

Released four years after Guerrilla Funk, this release still remains shrouded in mystery.

This is the only album that's not mentioned on Paris' website, and the first one for which there was no video released. It's also the first album that Paris released after breaking ties with Priority Records, who I'm pretty sure was the umbrella for the Scarface Records label that Paris ran. This album was released on Unleashed Records, which appears to be a part of Whirling Records, which I can find no info about. It has the Guerrilla Funk logo on the back, but instead of saying "Guerrilla Funk Recordings," like his next albums would, it says, "Guerrilla Funk Music Publishing (ASCAP)." These are not the only signs that this was a transitional period for Paris.

Inside the CD jacket, there's an ad for Unleashed Records that announces, "Introducing Jet and Nuttso...The Next Generation Coming 1998..." Yup, Paris was trying his luck with some up-and-comers. A really weird move from a guy who rarely had guest spots on his albums. An even weirder move: giving these guys solo tracks on this LP, with beats that he didn't do. And they're not even tacked on at the end - they're just mixed in with the other songs on the CD. Jet gets two cuts ("Everyday Livin'" and "Same Ol' Same Ol'"), while Nuttso gets one ("Thug Livin'"). All three of the songs are weak, typical gangsta rap, with beats that can't hold a candle to the shit Paris puts together.

Sort of weird but not really: Spice 1 shows up on two tracks on this disc, which would be really odd if they weren't both from the Bay Area and this wasn't the most gangsta Paris album ever. Seriously. P-Dog came out of hiding for what would end up being his only album in an almost ten-year span, and he brings some of the hardest shit of his career. "Blast First," "Record Label Murder," and "Street Soldier" are all badass cuts, with Paris calling out "wannabe G's" with a fervor that he hadn't mustered since '92.

He still gets political on a few tracks ("Root of All Evil" and "Conversation"), and somehow makes a gangsta-type love song (!) work on "44 Wayz." Yeah, this really is the odd Paris album. But I forgot how good it is if you take off the tracks with his little homies. The beats are solid, he sounds as pissed as ever, and "Street Soldier" remains one of his strongest cuts.

A few other things of note:

The Jet and Nuttso albums did indeed see release.

Apparently Unleashed was only released for a short time and in small numbers, and has become a bit of a collector's item. Though Amazon prices can't always be trusted.

I just found out that there's an Italian import version of this CD that features a different tracklisting and six tracks that aren't included on the American version. Strangely, some of the songs on that one use the same verses from some of the guest dudes on the American version, just in different songs.

Weirdest Paris album ever.

"Street Soldier"

Paris - Guerrilla Funk (CD, 1994)

Up to this point, Paris always struck as me as the sort of guy who didn't give a fuck about trends. He was the hard-ass who just wanted to blister mics and kill the white devil. It was on Guerrilla Funk that I began to wise up to the fact that maybe, just maybe, Paris wasn't exactly who I thought he was. (I've since found out that he's not anything like I thought he was. Not that it matters - I still love the guy's music.)

I go back and forth with this record. For a while, I really didn't like it - it struck me as a blatant attempt to cash in on the g-funk shit that Dr. Dre had already lit up the West Coast with, and a late attempt at that. Paris even samples a few of the same songs that Dre used on Doggystyle. And while the Parliament sound may have been a cool move if used to mix it up on a few tracks, listening to it for an hour straight gets a little tedious. On top of that, Paris just doesn't sound as hard rapping over warbly synths and big-funk basslines. His voice almost cuts through it, but I find myself really missing the ruggedness of his beats.

In fairness, his first two records were fairly similar, so I do respect the fact that he mixes it up here. But then he does a track like "Back in the Day," which is just a weaker version of "The Days of Old" from Sleeping With the Enemy. And "Outta My Life" is possibly the worst Paris song ever. Corny beat, and even his lyrics seem like a half-assed stab at making his own version of "Dead Homiez." That's oversimplifying it, of course, but you get the idea.

Still, there are some bright spots on this record, and I don't want to make it seem like there aren't. "One Time Fo' Ya Mind" lays off the funk and sounds like vintage Paris, and "It's Real," aside from it's way-too-familiar sampling, is a solid opener. Still, this album can't help but sound severely dated now, and even though Paris drops some fine lyrics throughout, the whole thing is overshadowed by the weird P-Funk theme.

Paris must have agreed that it wasn't his finest work, because he disappeared for a while after this one.

"One Time Fo' Ya Mind"

Paris - Sleeping With the Enemy (CD, 1992)

When I was still in high school - this would have been around 1993 - I used to go down to Eugene and visit my off-and-on girlfriend who lived down there (long story). She lived in a house with a few girls, but there were always random people hanging around. I got to know a couple of guys who were always over there, through various Boone's-drinking, bong-hitting, and music-listening. One of the guys' names was Paul, but everybody called him P-Dog.

One night we were playing this idiotic game that P-Dog liked to play where you took a bong hit, held the smoke in, took a pull from a 40 of OE, ate a cookie, and then blew the smoke out. Seriously: I had to be seventeen to think this was as awesome as I did. Anyway. P-Dog and his friend had great taste in hip hop, and on this night, they were rocking something I'd never heard before. I was extremely out of it, but this music was blowing my mind. I asked them what it was, and they flipped me the CD. Paris. Sleeping With the Enemy. Just then, his voice rattled out of the shit speakers: "P-Dog the Bush killa." Ah.

We listened to the CD on and off whenever I was down there, but I would always forget to buy it. Which was weird, because I loved it. In fact, I don't think I picked it up until a few years later. I can't be sure of that. But I know I had it when I was 19, because I was fucking immersed in it by that point. (I put "Coffee, Donuts & Death" on a mixtape that year for my girlfriend, for chrissake. She hated it, and rightfully so.) Maybe I bought it the year before? It doesn't matter. I bought it, listened to it, and wondered why in the hell it took me so damn long to buy this album. Because it is amazing.

It's frustrating that Sleeping With the Enemy has become more well-known for its cover and content controversy (more about that here) than it has for its music. This is Paris' crowning achievement, an album that, while well-received at the time and still highly regarded in some circles, never got the universal props it deserved. The way this thing flows together as a collection of songs is seamless, and the beats that Paris put together manage to be more diverse, more powerful, and even more catchy than the ones he crafted for his debut.

"Make Way for a Panther," "Sleeping With the Enemy," and "House Niggas Bleed Too" are the first three proper tracks on the album, and they're all insane. Turns out they're just the prelude to the murder fantasy that everyone whined about, "Bush Killa." It's a great song, and that's all that matters. That's all that should have mattered. Anyway, the album starts out in mega-fierce mode (good move), but Paris mixes shit up as it goes along. "Assata's Song" and "The Days of Old" are both mellow and thoughtful tracks, and he pulls them off with ease.

Still, this album is at its best when he comes with the hard shit. "Guerrillas in the Mist" is actually part two of "Break the Grip of Shame" from The Devil Made Me Do It (it uses the same beat, even), and it sounds even grittier than it did the first time around. "Conspiracy of Silence" features Son Doobie from Funkdoobiest (listed in the liner notes as "Sun Dubious") and L.P. (?) and is one of the more bouncy tracks that Paris made up to this point. He also throws in some shorter, interlude-y cuts, as well as some slower knowledge-droppers. Great sequencing, great composition. Great one to listen to on headphones.

Oh, and a fun fact: A young DJ Shadow did some of his first recorded work on this record.

Many years ago, a friend of mine who worked at a record store unearthed an original, sealed copy of this CD, still in its longbox. Needless to say, it remains untouched and is on a shelf in my front room.

"The Days of Old"

Paris - The Devil Made Me Do It - The Deluxe Edition (2xLP, 1990/2003)

I had had my original CD version of The Devil Made Me Do It for a long-ass time, and I just recently found this Deluxe Edition in a store and decided to upgrade. It's odd in that it doesn't say specifically that it's been remastered, but that it's been "digitally enhanced and reworked, and has provided the artist the rare opportunity to improve on the the initial release by benefiting from advancements in technology previously unavailable." Pretty sure that means "remastered."

And that's what it sounds like. The original issue of The Devil Made Me Do It was, like a lot of other CDs released around the same time, really quiet compared to more recent discs, and the overall sound just wasn't great either. This edition sounds a little better, though it seems that the recording might have been a little budget to begin with. It doesn't matter. Paris is so angry, so pro-black, and so fed up with everything that a small nuisance like pristine sonic clarity isn't going to get in the way of him making his point. And, if you hadn't guessed it already, that point is, "fuck the white man." Fair enough.

And never have I so enjoyed listening to a man rail against my entire race. Paris is really the only rapper I've ever listened to who I genuinely think would be pissed if he knew I was buying his records. Sure, there's a lot of hip hop artists out there who talk the white man down, but come on. It's all part of the shtick. Paris not only lives it and raps about it, he backs up all his claims with historic precedents, to the point where I can't help but agree with him.

So why do I listen to the records of a guy who I know for a fact thinks of me as the enemy? Because the dude's an incredible rapper and producer, and if I'm going to listen to pissed-off rap, I want it to be focused in its anger and I want it to be smart. Paris is right up there with Ice Cube when it comes to pulling that off. And that's a huge compliment.

The Devil Made Me Do It is Paris' first LP, and though the beats sound fairly dated now, his voice sounds as clear and as relevant as ever. And don't get me wrong - the beats are dope as shit. I still love listening to the crazy-fast grooves of "Panther Power" and "Wretched." I still love listening to the rest of this record, too. Paris is political, Paris is outspoken, and Paris doesn't make songs about having fun. My wife hates this record. So yeah, there's a time and place for it. If you've never lifted weights while listening to Paris, I highly recommend it.

The original CD version of this album already contained two bonus remixes, and this one only adds one more. But if you only had the original vinyl version, you'd be looking at five bonus tracks, because it not only didn't include any remixes, it also omitted two tracks ("Brutal" and "On the Prowl") that would end up right in the middle of the CD version. Kind of a weird move.

Paris ain't for everybody. But if you're curious, start with this one or his next one. They're both fantastic.

"The Devil Made Me Do It"

Outkast - Aquemini (3xLP, 1998)

About a year ago, I made the bold statement that Ice Cube's Death Certificate is the best hip hop album ever. And while, if pressed, I would probably still stand by that claim, Aquemini is one of the only albums that really makes me think long and hard about it. In the end, it doesn't matter. They're both brilliant for completely different reasons, and though they're only seven years apart in release date, they're galaxies apart in both content and execution. So it's pointless to compare them. And I won't. But you get the idea: Aquemini is as close to flawless as you can get in the hip hop realm. And I have no problem standing by that claim.

This record came out in late September of 1998, right when I moved to Portland. One of my only friends up here - a real record freak - gave me this 3-LP album because it wasn't up to his standards. Not the music, mind you. The actual vinyl. He was, to put it nicely, very particular about his collection. If he sensed any flaw in the record or the cover, he didn't want it rubbing up against his other LPs. Needless to say, he was completely obsessive/compulsive, and it really was a troubling thing. However, as a fellow vinyl fanatic, he was a great guy to be friends with. I have an original copy of Radiohead's The Bends thanks to this guy. I think there might be some light fraying of the cardboard on one of the corners. Anyway.

The deal with this one was that during the intro ("Hold On, Be Strong"), the record emitted a slight pop in one spot during each revolution. Now, that track is about a minute long, has no lyrics, and while essential to the overall feel of the album, is really not one that you're going to miss if you skip by it. He couldn't deal. And, in his weird defense, the popping sound was quite audible. In fact, I taped this album and put it in my car (it's still in there, a decade and a different car later), and that's when I listened to it the most. "Hold On, Be Strong" now sounds weird to me when I hear it on CD because the pops are missing. Those damn pops.

So, yeah, this drove him batty and he wanted rid of it. I gladly took it off his hands because hey, free record that just came out. But also, I had heard Outkast here and there, and I liked what I heard. (It took this album for me to go back and get their first two.) I was ready to get in on the ground floor with this one. But man, I had no idea I was going to like it as much as I did. I immediately taped it, put it in my car (I already mentioned this), and unless I was terribly depressed and listening to Elliott Smith's XO, I was listening to this record. It blew my mind. It still does. Wu-Tang Clan changed the face of hip hop in '93. Outkast did it again in '98.

Once you get past the inexplicably incongruous "Return of the 'G,'" which is the only track on the album that even begins to falter (remember my theory about Outkast picking weird songs to lead off records?), the vocal loop from "Rosa Parks" fades in and things get completely nutso. Outkast needed a song like "Rosa Parks," and they needed a song like the one that follows it, the equally rambunctious "Skew it on the Bar-B." These were the types of beats that really allowed them to break out. These were the beats that sounded like Dré looked. And maybe Big Boi didn't realize it, but the dude must have quickly found out that he's the most bad-ass fast rapper on the planet. His verse on "Skew it on the Bar-B" will split your skull open. And he was just getting started.

Big Boi was always the more "traditional" rapper of the duo, and while his flexing continued to get stronger as Outkast progressed, it also got smarter and more focused. Happy to talk about pimpin' on the first record and working hard to find his own voice on the second (and basically getting there), he fully achieves it on the third. There's no one comparable to Big Boi, and there's no one comparable to Dré. And I don't mean that they're the best rappers in the world (though they're certainly up there), I mean that they just don't sound like anyone else. They became something new. And while Big Boi would go on to get more G'd out and André would go on to almost over-embrace the Prince/Hendrix thing, this was the album where they met the middle - where neither one of them had stretched things too far yet.

Tracks like "Slump," "Synthesizer," and "Chonkyfire" are all completely different in scope and subject, but they all make sense as a part of this record. So do both parts of "Da Art of Storytellin'." Somehow, so does the 8-minute "Liberation." (That's the track where Big Rube lets loose on this one.) In fact, almost all the songs on this thing are long as shit, and the fact that they don't feel like it just goes to show how little space is wasted on this record.

I'll admit that this record got to me at a time when I was really ready to ingest it, so maybe that has something to do with why I think it's so fantastic. But I can still listen to it, and I can still hear it. This record is straight-up unlike any other hip hop record. It's just...better. I mean, listen to "Da Art of Storytellin' (Part 2)" and tell me that's not a great, great song.

I was listening to this in my car last week. All the way through. And it still gets me.

"Rosa Parks"

Outkast - ATLiens (LP, 1996)

And here's where things start to get wonderfully weird.

It wouldn't be until their next record that Outkast would realize they needed to get almost completely unhinged for the public to take notice, but this was one more step in the right direction. Again, their penchant for slow grooves may have prevented them (initially) from grabbing the ears of the mass masses, but people who had already noticed them their first time out were ready for something more, and they got it. But it wasn't just more of the same. Though "Two Dope Boyz (In a Cadillac)" seemed determined to set the stage for Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik Part II, after that things shift gears quick. (Outkast have a knack for picking a lead-off track on their albums that has almost nothing to do with the rest of the songs. This would not be the last time.)

From Andre's verse on the title track, you can tell things aren't going to be business as usual. And if you saw the video, you knew they had either lost their minds (catacombs?) or were on some next-level shit that the rest of hip hop hadn't even begun to imagine yet. Thankfully, it was the latter. I could go on forever about how awesome it was that Dre shunned everything about traditional hip hop (especially in appearance), but I won't get off on that rant. You know what a gutsy move it was. And it would have backfired (within "popular" music, at least) if the music wouldn't have been so great that nobody could say a damn thing about it.

So, here, the rough template was set for the next phase of Outkast's career. Big Boi was the de facto hard-ass (ball cap), Andre was the still-searching philosopher (genie skully). You start the album with a one-minute ease-in - something that sounds like the beginning of a sci-fi flick. You juke 'em out with a first cut that sounds like it was left over from the last album, then you reel 'em in with an hour's worth of the dopest of the dope new shit. Somewhere near the end you let a slow, spacey groove ride for way too long and let Big Rube say a bunch of bizarre shit over the top of it.

And it all works.

"Jazzy Belle"

Outkast - Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik (CD, 1994)

This record was released when the dudes in Outkast were 19, so they probably recorded it when they were 18. Look at those young-ass dudes. Getting shit done.

And getting it done right. While this will probably always be remembered as "The Outkast album that was recorded before Dre started dressing like a weirdo," it shouldn't be written off as not worthy of their catalog. Yeah, it's probably my least favorite album of theirs, but that's mostly because their other ones are so damn incredible. The fact that it only took Outkast one album to get tired of talking about pimpin' and gangsta shit and move on to bigger and better things is a testament to how smart these guys are. Sure, some of that stuff would get play in their later albums, but it seemed like it was just there to maintain a little cred (or maybe to appease the always-harder Big Boi). Maybe that's just my interpretation.

Either way, this is definitely the most un-Outkast of all the Outkast albums, but it also plants the seeds for what's to come. The beats slump in parts, but they maintain a consistency throughout the album. That ends up being both a good and a bad thing. If you're in the mood for Southern smoothness that thumps, you'll be good to go. If you're looking for them to mix it up a little more, you may get lulled into submission by the similarity of some of the tracks. Initially, at least. Once you spend some serious time with this record, the songs start to spread themselves apart. I'll admit, it took me a while to really get down with this whole thing.

A lot of the tracks are over five minutes long, so you've got to be ready to hang with 'em. "Git Up, Git Out" is a sweet song (with a surprising message), but at over seven minutes, it gets long. The tendency to hammer the hooks home is there, and it can get to be a bit much. "Funky Ride" is downright taxing. But, the raps are so dope that it usually doesn't matter. "D.E.E.P.," one of the last cuts on the record, foreshadows what's to come on the next record, and features Dre getting all abstract. It's cool shit, and it's one of the first signs of the group getting inside their own heads and seeing what comes out. It would serve them well in the future. You know that.

"Player's Ball"

Ol' Dirty Bastard - Nigga Please (2xLP, 1999)

Wow. I want to find the dude who wrote the Wikipedia entry for this record and shake him. What a load. Nice try, ace.

So, here's the deal - and though I'm sure some folks will disagree with me, I'm just going to get right to it: this album really isn't very good. We want it to be good. Everyone wants to believe the myth of ODB (Big Baby Jesus, by this point), wants to believe that his genius remained intact until the day he died, but this record is full-on proof that the guy was a shell of his former self. If anyone deserves to be patted on the back for this one, it's the dude who spent months piecing together all of Dirty's nonsense and forming songs out of the random lines. Almost every single track here sounds like single lines cut-and-pasted together. Sometimes it kind of works; most of the time it doesn't.

This record actually starts out fairly strong. The first two tracks ("Recognize" and "I Can't Wait") are pretty good. From there, shit gets dicey. "Got Your Money" has one catchy-ass beat and chorus, but Dirty's rhymes are a mess. Tracks like "I Want Pussy" and "Dirt Dog" are borderline throwaways, and "Good Morning Heartache" is a complete throwaway.

The bright spots end up being the title track - on which RZA delivers a dope beat and Dirty sounds enthused - and "Gettin' High," mostly because Shorty Shit Stain (of "Protect Ya Neck II The Zoo" fame) is on it. But for the most part, I really think this album is overrated. And I hate The Neptunes. So that doesn't help. But tell me it doesn't sound like they propped Dirty up and just let him ramble until they had enough shit to cobble together and make songs out of.

Yes, there are some good songs on here. But it's not a great album. We would like it to be. But it's not. Especially coming after his debut.

"Got Your Money"

Ol' Dirty Bastard - Return to the 36 Chambers: The Dirty Version (2xLP, 1995)

This was only the third official Wu-Tang release (after Enter the Wu-Tang and Method Man's Tical), and it kept the momentum going, once again proving that the Clan was the strongest force in hip hop. This album was nominated for a Grammy, and while it didn't win, it should have. When people say that ODB was an original voice, or a misunderstood genius, or whatever, this is what they're talking about.

This is the Ol' Dirty Bastard LP. The one with RZA. The one with a bunch of the Clan dudes popping in and out. The one where he sounds relatively coherent and even articulate in spots. Trying to explain the approach of this record is impossible, because I've been listening to it for 15 years and I still don't really understand why it's as good as it is. I mean, I do - the beats are insane, Dirty is over-the-top entertaining, and there's not a bad song on the damn thing - but it just seems so nuts that Dirty actually pulled this off.

In the context of the Clan, he was a force. His verses on Enter the Wu-Tang are fucking fantastic, but when listening to that album, I couldn't picture him being more than a team player, a brilliant juxtaposition for the more dead-serious rhymers like Masta Killa and GZA. The thought of listening to him rap, sing, and single-handedly (mostly) carry a collection of songs for an hour straight didn't seem wise to me.

I was way off.

If you listen to the five-minute intro on this record and recognize - even though you might not be able to put your finger on why - that it's like nothing you've ever heard before, then you'll get it. And when "Shimmy Shimmy Ya" kicks in after that, there's not going back. "Brooklyn Zoo" will go down as one of the best Wu songs ever, and "Protect Ya Neck II The Zoo" remains one of the dopest posse cuts on record.

More than anything, I love the fact that Dirty made this record before he really lost it and things got too fucked up for him to be the nutball he wanted to be - the one who was crazy, sure, but the one that could also rap his ass off. And he does a lot of that here.

When I think of ODB, this is what I think of. Because this was when he was at his finest. I mean, come on - the cover is his food stamp card. That's fucking awesome. And 15 years later, this whole record remains fucking awesome.

"Brooklyn Zoo"

Naughty By Nature - Nineteen Naughty Nine: Nature's Fury (CD, 1999)

I can't act like I'm crazy-familiar with this album, because it's the one Naughty album that I've probably spent the least amount of time with. I haven't listened to it in a while, but going back and revisiting it now, it's coming on pretty strong. The group sounds a little bit harder on this one, and though the beats are very late-90's, they could be worse.

By this point the group was giving in to the demands of rap at the time: there's feature spots from Big Pun, Mystikal, Krayzie Bone, Silkk the Shocker, and Master P. I guess no one could have known how much that would instantly date this thing, but it certainly does. And the beats, while hard-hitting, also sound pretty dated.

But, Treach is firing back on this one, and he single-handedly takes some songs that aren't especially memorable music-wise and lyrically wrecks shit all over them. Maybe not the comeback that he was hoping for, but it's not far from it. And Vin Rock, as usual, sounds mad enthused.

The radio song on this one is "Jamboree," which is easily my least favorite radio jam of theirs. But it was still a hit, so they accomplished their mission. And they left out the shout-out song on this one, which is a plus. But they were getting guest-spot happy, and that's always dangerous ground to tread on. It would come to a head on their next release.

"Dirt All By My Lonely"

Naughty By Nature - Poverty's Paradise (CD, 1995)

Naughty might have gotten a little ahead of themselves with this one. There's too many skits (there's two intros, for cryin' out loud), beats that are frustratingly smoother than any of their stuff up to this point, and just a general feel that suggests they were stuck between radio friendliness and street credibility. It's really just one of those post-fame awkward albums.

That's not to say it's bad, because it's not. But I've just never been able to dive into it the way I've been able to with their first two albums. Treach sounds more deliberate (you can actually understand most of what he's saying...!) and, at the risk of tossing out a hip hop cliche, the group just doesn't sound as hungry. Tracks like "Holdin' Fort" and "Sunshine" sound a bit lazy, and though they work some decent grooves, I've always enjoyed Naughty By Nature more for their all-out freneticism than their mid-tempo soul-type jams.

Still, tracks like "Respect Due" and "Craziest" are pretty dope. But most of this thing is just so noticeably slowed down that I spend most of my time listening to it in a lull that I keep thinking the album's going to bust me out of, but it never really happens. "Feel Me Flow" is the radio single on this one, and they also include another seven-minute shout out at the end. Sadly, those are the only things that follow the Naughty formula on this one. Maybe they felt that they were growing up, or maybe they were trying to shift shit in a new direction. And I appreciate that. But there's just not enough of the old shit left over in this one for me.

"Clap Yo' Hands"

Naughty By Nature - 19 Naughty III (LP, 1993)

I cannot remember what possessed me to buy this cassette around the time it came out. I had not particularly been a fan of "O.P.P.," though I did like it - but I never bought the group's first record. I seriously think - and I have some weird memory of this - that I just thought the fact that Treach was holding a chainsaw on the cover of the album was so simultaneously badass/ridiculous/hilarious that I had to see what these dudes were up to. I've always been glad that I took the leap.

In 90's hip hop, there were some great songs that started off albums. You've got MC Ren's "11:55," House of Pain's "Salutations," Dr Dre's "The Chronic (Intro)," N.W.A's "Prelude"; I could go on. But I don't think any of them topped the title track from this LP.

And, of course, I can't find a full version of the song anywhere. That is fantastic. Anyway, trust me: it's awesome. And it's a tone-setter for what would easily be the group's best album. This time around, the radio single was "Hip Hop Hooray," and again, MTV played the shit out of it. And again, it's one of the weaker songs on the album. The other two spotty-ish tracks are "Written On Ya Kitten," Treach's pussy-wranglin' anthem, and the seven-minute shout-out number, "Sleepwalkin' II." Luckily, these are both at the end of the album, so they don't really get in the way. Other than those, this thing is a go-getter.

Tracks like "Daddy Was A Street Corner" and "Sleepin' On Jersey" are uptempo, frantic, and just incredibly awesome. The whole group apparently doubled their skills between their debut and this album, and it's clear they're not interested in dicking around. Kay Gee's beats are less repetitive, more complex, and are just generally more well-crafted. Vin Rock sounds fully comfortable on the mic, and his verses throughout (though I always wish there were more) are solid. But this is Treach's album. The guy is out of his head on this thing, and I'm not sure if he ever really got the recognition he deserved for his performance on this album. It's just nuts. "Ready for Dem," "Take It to Ya Face," "The Hood Comes First" - he slays 'em all. And when he teams up with Freddie Foxxx for "Hot Potato," it's fantastic.

So look past "Hip Hop Hooray" and see this thing for what it really is: one of the finest hip hop albums of the 90's. And the high point of the group.

"It's On"

Naughty By Nature - Naughty By Nature (LP, 1991)

"O.P.P." got played to death by MTV in the summer/fall of 1991, and with good reason: it was a great single. And as annoying as the omnipresence of the video was (especially the "Dave - drop a load on 'em" part), you had to admit: dude could rap. "Dude," we would later find out, was Treach, the cornrowed leader of this Illtown (East Orange in Jersey - act like you know) trio.

I go back and forth with what I think about Treach, but it never has much to do with his abilities as a rapper. The guy's good on the mic. And, though he didn't get a chance to show it on "O.P.P.," so is his partner, Vin Rock. They make for an interesting pairing, but work well playing off each other. Come to think of it, Naughty By Nature used the Soul Assassins formula, didn't they? Treach was the main rapper, Vin was the secondary rapper, and Kay Gee was the man behind the wheels of steel - and the beats.

Naughty By Nature also knew exactly what they were doing. Each of their albums, starting with this one, contains a radio-ready single that strives to be anthemic and is definitely softer than the rest of the record. The goal was big-time MTV play and lots of record sales, and it worked. It's a good move - ask Eminem.

So, other than the playa rhymes of "O.P.P.," the saptastic horn-jammery of "Ghetto Bastard," and the relatively smoothed-out flow of "Rhyme'll Shine On," this album is hard as steel. Tracks like "Yoke the Joker," "Guard Your Grill," and "Every Day All Day" flex hard, and they're dope. But shit really gets going on two of the best cuts on the record, and the ones where Treach really lets loose: "Let the Ho's Go" and "Pin the Tail on the Donkey." Both are upbeat, both are just a little bit gritty, and both feature Treach just wrecking shit. I like it.

I actually didn't buy this album until after I bought the one after this, so this has always sounded like their up-and-comer to me. The recording quality is a little dicey, and the beats are rough. But the raps more than make up for it. And this album will make you miss the days of the hip hop album with twelve five-minute songs. This this is bulky. And that's a great thing.

"Ghetto Bastard"

Nas - Illmatic (CD, 1994)

I missed the boat on this one the first time around, and really didn't even hear it until a few years ago. By that time, I had heard so much about it that I didn't even feel I could form a logical opinion about it. People have had their lips on the nuts of this album - really locked on there - for so long, that there is no perspective anymore.

"Classic."

That's all you get to say about it, or risk getting shouted down by the same people who argue about what the best Jay-Z album is. Those people are dime-a-dozen claptrap hounds who listen to Lil Wayne, and they are part of the problem. Don't be part of the problem.

Of course, that isn't to say that Nas is in the same league (as far as I'm concerned) as those go-to, knee-jerk artists who everybody defers to out of fear of reprisal. (I mean, seriously. Lil Wayne is the best rapper alive? Then we're in big fucking trouble, people.) Well, let me rephrase that. He is in that same league, because he will always get the finger pointed in his direction when the pointless "best lyricist" argument comes up. But, I'd argue - and this is where the "as far as I'm concerned" part comes in - that he's got a better head on his shoulders than most of the other rappers he gets lumped in with. I'm not a huge fan, but I dig some of his music. I think mostly I dig this album. I tried some of the other shit and it didn't sit as well with me.

Anyway. I thought Nas's verse on "Verbal Intercourse" on Raekwon's Only Built 4 Cuban Linx... was solid. So I thought I'd check this album out. And you know what? It's really good. And isn't that enough? One of the greatest hip hop albums of all time? Depends on how long your list is. The fact that this thing is consistently ranked in the top five in lists like that is a bit weird to me. And don't get me wrong: it is a fine album. Sure: a great album. It's also only got nine actual songs on it and is less than forty minutes long.

Maybe I just don't get it. Maybe I'll never get it. I dunno. But I'll hold onto this CD. Because I do like it. And because I feel like I should. That's a bad reason.

"The World Is Yours"

N.W.A - Efil4zaggin (LP, 1991)

MC Ren.

MC fucking Ren.

Never has a dude, faced with stepping up and carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, delivered with such bravado and ferocity. Well, perhaps that's exaggerating a little bit. But you get the idea: MC Ren is borderline untouchable on this LP. He was great before this and he'd be great afterward, but for this one release, he was flawless. Couple that with astounding production from Dr. Dre (I beg you to listen to this album on headphones) and well-placed use of Eazy-E, and you've got yourself one of the greatest gangsta rap albums ever. I have listened to this album at least a thousand times, and I still love it. Yeah, I take years off from it here and there, but I keep coming back to it. And almost twenty years after its release, it still hits.

And it hit initially when it came out, but it fell out of favor pretty quick. 1991 was a weird time. I know I didn't buy this right when it came out, and a year earlier I was shitting my pants at the sight of 100 Miles and Runnin'. Maybe the change in the musical landscape - sorry to use that term - had something to do with it. Maybe everybody really just wanted the exact same shit that they heard on Straight Outta Compton. Maybe some of us grew up a little bit, and all of a sudden listening to songs like "One Less Bitch" around your Tori-Amos-fan girlfriend didn't seem like such a keen idea. I know I didn't play this tape when chicks were around.

I remember someone telling me that it came out, and that it sucked. I remember one of my friends having the tape in his Walkman on a road trip to a baseball game that summer and him telling me I needed to hear some of it, and I didn't really give a shit. I mean, come on, I had heard that it sucked. Then he let me listen to it, and I realized that it did not suck. Then I found a used cassette copy shortly after that and I listened to it in my car when no one was with me. I still have that cassette, and I was listening to it today. It is completely unidentifiable, because all the writing on the tape wore off years ago.

You know what else I remember? Girls thinking that "Automobile" was hilarious. Ugh.

This album is not about "Automobile." This album is about Dr. Dre having something to prove, and him proving the shit out of it. This record is so detailed, so finely tuned, and so calculated that it almost runs the danger of going against the "fuck everything" attitude that N.W.A stood for. The way Dre put a beat together was only part of it. It was also the way he way he positioned rappers (including himself) on the track, playing to their strengths.

He knew when and where to use Eazy-E, and made him way more potent than he ever would have been otherwise. (You ever listened to an Eazy-E solo record that Dre didn't have anything to do with? They're brutal.) And this didn't just mean putting Eazy last. It meant putting him first on "Findum, Fuckum, and Flee." It meant giving him short verses here and there (but not too much) so that you know that he's there, but when he finally busts shit wide open on "Appetite for Destruction," you feel it. It meant not putting him on a bunch of tracks at all.

He also divided the album into two distinct sections. The first half ("Prelude" - "Real Niggaz") is filled with predominantly "gangsta rap"-type songs. The second half ("To Kill A Hooker" - "The Dayz of Wayback") is, aside from the last two cuts, "bitches-and-hos"-type tracks. I thought this sort of held the material back a bit the first few times I heard this record, but I quickly realized it was perfect. The sequencing could have gone a different way, but the album flows really well the way it is. Dre knows how to put together and intro ("Prelude" is great, as far as hip hop intros go), knows how to start strong ("Real Niggaz Don't Die" is huge), and he knows to save the slow, retrospective song till the end ("The Dayz of Wayback"). And he knows to tuck the one awkward track ("Approach to Danger") away towards the end, where it fills a nice transitional slot.

I could go on. This album remains underrated, though I guess that depends on who you talk to. It seems that people either think it's genius or a letdown. I'm in the genius camp.

"Alwayz Into Somethin"

Also: if you haven't watched the N.W.A on Arsenio clip on YouTube, I highly suggest you do so.

N.W.A - 100 Miles and Runnin' (CD, 1990)

I was with my dad on a motorcycle ride to who-knows-where in the summer of 1990, when I begged him to let me stop at a Tower Records that we passed by. As I've said before, we never knew when new records were going to come out, so all you could do was check the racks. I had a list of artists I always looked for when I made it out to record stores, and N.W.A was on it. That day, my usually fruitless checking paid off. New music from Dre, Yella, Ren, Eazy, and... where the fuck was Cube?

When I got home and listened to the tape, a few things were made clear to me: 1.) Cube was indeed gone, and they were now referring to him as "Benedict Arnold." 2.) The title track was one of the greatest songs I had ever heard in my life. 3.) Their love for pussy had graduated to pornographic levels. (Not sure I ever wanted to actually hear Eazy-E getting his dick sucked.) 4.) This was a tide-the-fans-over-till-the-album-drops release, and it absolutely worked to both satisfy my cravings for new music and get me salivating for the full-length.

Even in this short format, it became clear that N.W.A was not looking to crank out Straight Outta Compton Part II. The production was much more dense, the rhymes were much more developed, and the entire feel of the EP was just bigger. It took me a few listens to adjust, but once I did, I was completely on board. The title track was a surge, the perfect cut to declare their intentions to keep on going without Cube. MC Ren was clearly making it his mission to take over as lyrical leader of the group, and all his appearances on this EP made a solid case for that.

"Just Don't Bite It" took the bitches-and-hos approach to an uncomfortable level, again showing that the group was pushing things forward. Musically, it's a great song, but the title track and "Sa Prize, Pt. 2" (which is actually "Fuck tha Police, Pt. 2") both run circles around it. "Sa Prize" is everything that's great about N.W.A, and Ren's verse on the song is untouchable. "Real Niggaz," which is the only cut here that would end up on the next LP, is another great one, with all three vocalists dropping fast-as-fuck lyrics and trading verses smoothly.

"Kamurshol" is basically an announcement for their upcoming full-length, and when they announced the title, it just sounded like some backward-masked garbling. This would later make sense, but for the year between this and their next release, it annoyed the shit out of me.

I always thought that I dug this EP a little more than some folks I played it for. I think some people really didn't want anything more than a continuation of the group's previous effort. This was far from it, and it was brilliant. Still is.

"100 Miles and Runnin'"