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"

Pailhead - Trait (CD, 1988)

Wow, here's one I haven't listened to in years.

When you're in high school and some punk kid you're sort of friends with asks you if you've ever heard Pailhead - you know, that group with Ian MacKaye singing with Ministry - your first instinct is to think he's lying. Or he's confused. Or he's fucking with you. Ian MacKaye and Ministry? You know both of these artists, and the idea of the two of them teaming up on a musical project seems far-fetched at best. In fact, you have a hard time thinking of two artists who are further apart from each other in both musical styles and general philosophies. Seriously, is this kid fucking with you?

You hear about it from some other people, and you start to think it might be real. You eventually track down the CD, proving once and for all that this thing actually happened, and this recording actually exists. You still don't really believe it for some reason, but when you listen to the CD, it's all there. Industrial guitar rock and Ian screaming over the top of it. You don't really like it that much, but you're so infatuated with the fact that it's real that you hold onto the CD for the rest of your life, never really listening to it, just always knowing it's there, on your shelf, being one of the strangest things you could ever imagine.

"Man Should Surrender"

Stallion Alert at the Movies: Deep Crates (2004)

Here's the problem with doing a low-budget music documentary: You can't afford to get clearance to use any of the music that people are talking about in the film. As a viewer, this makes the film an exercise in either having to imagine the songs you know playing behind the person who's talking, or being frustrated because you have no idea what song they're talking about.

This is a really low-budget doc about crate-digging, and while the interviews look like shit (we're talking home video footage here), they do manage to be quite interesting. But when someone starts talking about how a certain sample was incorporated into a specific beat, you instinctively expect the song to start playing in the background. It doesn't, and it really makes the whole thing frustrating. They instead opt to use (at certain points) really non-descript beats that were provided by some random DJ, but even that is only every-so-often, so it's jarring when it kicks in.

The interviews with Lord Finesse and Diamond D are interesting if you have some point of reference for what they're talking about, but without any music (or any visual aids, I might add), this whole thing comes off as a hastily-made student film. That's not to say it's worthless. If you're a hip hop purist and you're interested in knowing about the roots of crate digging, you'll get some interesting info out of this. If you're a novice and just want to see a cool music documentary, this ain't the one for you.

There's a Part II that has Marley Marl in it and looks a bit sharper, so I'll probably check that out.

Watch a bit of Deep Crates here.

Outkast - Idlewild (2xLP, 2006)

I can't believe it's been four years since the last Outkast album. Not really the soundtrack to the film of the same name as much as it's an accompanying album, this record was initially challenging for me to get my head around. I've since come to appreciate it for what it is, and now I legitimately enjoy the shit out of it.

While the two members of the group clearly were still working separately on the songs for this disc, they made the wise move of grouping all their individual tracks into one album, and it makes for a pretty sweet mix of music. (And if you don't like it like that, divide the tracks up in iTunes. Since the album is almost 80 minutes long, you can make two nice little mini-albums out of it.) As usual, some of André's cuts can get a little sprawling, but in the whole scheme of what they were trying to pull off here, I think they all work. The notable exception might be the warbly weirdness of "A Bad Note," but they wisely put that one at the end.

While I normally have beef with the sequencing on Outkast records, they really nail it on this one. "Mighty 'O'" is the perfect lead-off track (after the too-long intro), featuring both dudes dropping some solid verses over a click-clacky track that totally works. "Peaches" is sparse with the backing track, but Big Boi fills it out with some uncharacteristically subdued verses. It's an odd cut, but it's grown on me. André's "Idlewild Blue (Don'tchu Worry 'Bout Me)" is one of the handful of singles from this album (along with "Mighty 'O'" and "Morris Brown") that should have been a way bigger hit than it was. He finally found the perfect vehicle for his singing voice, and it's a great song.

The album starts off single-heavy, but the songs that follow and the ones that are interspersed early on are some damn fine 'Kast deep cuts. "The Train" is dope smoothness, "Buggface" is a solid quick one, and all of André's cuts are more Prince-y than ever, which is fine by me. You could argue that things start to lag somewhere in the middle (I could really do without the Lil Wayne and Snoop Dogg guest spots), but once you get into the groove of the thing, it moves nicely.

I can still listen to this one because I never burned myself out on it. Revisiting it this week has been nice. Still, I'm ready for some new shit.

"Idlewild Blue (Don'tchu Worry 'Bout Me)"

Outkast - Speakerboxxx/The Love Below (4xLP, 2003)

When I heard that Big Boi and André were going to release solo albums under the Outkast name and package it as one double album, I didn't really believe it would happen. The idea seemed crazily ambitious, and there was just too much that could go haywire. Of course, they proved me wrong, and the album went on to be certifiably mammoth.

"Hey Ya" became the song you loved and then the song you never wanted to hear again for the rest of your life (don't hear it much these days, do you?), but when it was good, it was great. Outkast played SNL right before the record came out, and when André busted that shit out while wearing this crazy green shredded bodysuit thing, I knew the song was going to be inescapable for the rest of the year. I had taped the episode, and I watched that performance over and over. I couldn't get enough of it. The song that Big Boi performed that night ("The Way You Move") was good too, but I always thought it was way too hook-heavy. In fact, I'd argue that it's one of the weaker tracks on Speakerboxxx.

And there's not many. The cut with Ludacris on it ("Tomb of the Boom") is ruined only by the fact that Ludacris is on it, and the track with Lil' Jon ("Last Call") is all kinds of stupid, but it's the last song, so whatever.

Otherwise, Big Boi's half is nothing short of incredible. "The Rooster" and "Knowing" are two of my favorite Outkast cuts of the last 10 years, and should be held up as an example of hip hop done right. If somebody makes a list of the top ten best living rappers and Big Boi's not on it, that list is worthless. Dude should be on there for this album alone. His rap on "Ghetto Musick" is untouchable.

I guess you probably either love or hate The Love Below. Me? I'm in the love camp. I was listening to it earlier today and remembered everything that I love about it: It's meticulously crafted but sounds loose, the lyrics are bizarrely brilliant, and the musicianship is, while not always spot-on, a blast to listen to. I'm just impressed that this thing exists. There had to have been people telling André that it was career suicide to release an album that is long as shit, features him mostly trying to sound like Prince, and has very little rapping on it.

But, the dude pulled it off. The Love Below isn't an album that you're going to have in your car stereo for weeks at a time, but man - when the time is right, it's a great record to listen to. There's just so much to it, and André's singing voice is so untrained and unpredictable that it lends itself to a certain charm. I could see how that - along with the long running time and general weirdness of the whole project - could turn some people off to this thing, but I've always really enjoyed it. I'm also a huge André fanboy, so that doesn't hurt. But I really think it's a smart record. And the hip hop world could use more of those.

This thing's a beast, and it's usually best tackled one album at a time. But if you haven't listened to it in a while, it might be time to check it out again. It's as good as you remember it. It's somehow better than I remember it.

"Roses"

Outkast - Big Boi & Dre Present... Outkast (CD, 2001)

Outkast blew the heck up after Stankonia dropped, so in a rare move in the hip hop world, they dropped a Christmastime greatest hits comp in hopes to capitalize on some of that success. Of course, they put a small handful of new tracks on it too, so the hardcore fans had a reason to pick it up. The whole thing reeked of cash-grab to me, and I don't think I even bought this until a few years ago, when I found it used at a very discount price.

Still, the non-album tracks (there are four, counting the intro) are good cuts, and they're worth owning. "Funkin' Around" sounds very of-the-time, with Dre copping a fake British accent and then busting in with some forceful rhymes. Big Boi, of course, slays shit on his verse. "The Whole World" was a modest hit for them around this time, and it should have been bigger. It's got a huge hook, and the raps on it are dope. "Movin' Cool" isn't big on raps, but it makes a nice outro to this collection. Sort of a soul-funk type thing, with Big Boi dropping some knowledge towards the end.

This collection also features lyrics for all the tracks in the liner notes, and that's pretty cool. There's also a decent recap of their four studio albums.

Uncool:

The ads for the short-lived Outkast clothing line.

The ads for André's artwork, which has "SAMPLE" stamped all over the one-inch-square photos. Yeah, you don't want anyone scanning that and putting it in their wallet.

The especially hacky-looking ad for Big Boi's pit bull kennel business. His own name is misspelled in it.

"Outkast comics coming soon!!!" No they weren't.

They should have included the weird-as-shit "Land of a Million Drums" on it, but instead it went straight to the Scooby-Doo soundtrack a year later.

The tracks aren't in chronological order, and there's only two songs from ATLiens.

I can always find stuff to whine about.

"The Whole World"