The D.O.C. - No One Can Do It Better (CD, 1989)

The D.O.C. has always been considered a founding member of NWA, but he only appeared on one song from Straight Outta Compton, (though he is on the cover) and by the time their second record rolled around, he had been rendered virtually voiceless by a car accident (but I think that's him on "Don't Drink That Wine"). So while he may "officially" have been a member of NWA, he's usually considered by fans to be a member of the NWA posse.

This record dropped after Straight Outta Compton and before any other NWA records had been released. It's also notable for having the last song (I think) to feature Ice Cube when he was still a member of the group. Dre does the beats, Yella does the cuts, and The D.O.C. does a great job of both repping NWA and positioning himself a little to the side of their hardcore image.

While The D.O.C. could get a little foul-mouthed here and there, this record isn't big on the profanity. Which is fine, but when I was a 13 year old kid buying this cassette, I was hoping for some street talk. You don't get that, but you do get a young dude dropping some great lyrics over some early and equally great Dr. Dre beats. While the NWA guys were decent lyricists, that usually took a back seat to the shock value. D.O.C.'s out to prove he can get by without that noise - and he can.

Tracks like "Whirlwind Pyramid" and "Portrait of a Masterpiece" are my favorite kind of hip hop: fast and witty, with sparse music during the verses that breaks loose in the chorus. Late 80's hard-driving shit you can barely keep up with. I love it.

It wraps up with one of my favorite rap songs ever, the indelible "The Grand Finale," a song that, as I mentioned, features Cube-era NWA at their absolute peak of performance, over a beat that is incredible. It also features the classic Eazy-E line (no doubt written by Ice Cube): "Fuck a car, I'll do a motherfuckin' walk-by." Undeniable.

This is an oft-forgotten classic from the golden era of rap and the true beginnings of real gangsta rap.

"The D.O.C. and the Doctor"

D-Nice - To Tha Rescue (CD, 1991)

Look out, D-Nice has got a fresh new look. What a difference a year makes.

In 1991, NWA released Efil4zaggin, and it debuted at #1 on the pop charts. So, that should give an idea as to where hip hop was at at the time. Hence D's hoodie and lyrics in the first track about smoking some pot and washing it down with a brew. It's not a complete 180, though. "Rhymin' Skills" sounds like it could have been from his first record, and once you get past KRS-One's annoying raga yelling, it's a pretty good song.

"Time to Flow" features Naughty By Nature, and when Treach trades verses with D, he makes him look like a rookie. The beat is pure piano-laced Naughty, and it's possibly the best song on the record. In a bizarre move, "Time to Flow" shows up again six tracks later, as a remix (barely, and it's not listed as such) with Treach's verses omitted. Maybe D knew that he was getting shown up. Still, weird. (Especially considering there are still two songs after it.)

"Check Yourself" is a duet with Too $hort, and it's really not good. "Fuck a bitch and that's the goddamned truth"? Brilliant, Short Dog. The beat's not great either, and that's a problem with a few of the tracks on this one. In his attempt to be "harder," a lot of the more melodic loops have been replaced with heavy drums and static bass, and his voice just isn't enough to make up for it. But, that's only on a few cuts, and most of this album is good enough. It's just odd to hear this guy all of a sudden tossing the eff word around and coppin' some 'tude.

It must not have worked, as this was D-Nice's last solo record. I know he had a falling out with BDP, maybe that queered the deal. Who knows. Shit, dude's not even 40 yet. I'll hold out for a comeback.

"25 Ta Life"

D-Nice - Call Me D-Nice (CD, 1990)

Hey, we made it to the D's.

In 1989, I picked up a cassette single for a Boogie Down Productions song called "You Must Learn." I realized quickly that I didn't really like KRS-One's preachy bullshit, but I did like the last track on the single, a tacked-on preview of the upcoming D-Nice LP, a song called "And You Don't Stop." I ended up fast-forwarding the tape to that song more than listening to the BDP tracks.

I don't remember exactly when I picked up this CD, but it wasn't until years later. D-Nice's sound is very 1990 hip hop, which is a good thing, but it tends to sound more dated than a lot of other rap from the era. Though he never obsessed about being on the positive tip, his raps do sound a little soft. For me, the subject matter's not a problem. But, his rap style leans towards being a little simple sometimes, and kicking rhymes about rocking the party wasn't exactly the hottest angle in 1990. But, he did have some success with this one. (Being uber-hyped by KRS-One probably didn't hurt.)

It's also worth mentioning that he was barely 20 when this was released, he produced the entire record by himself, and the beats are, while not super complex, really catchy and make good use of the huge samples they use.

D-Nice refers to himself as the TR-808 (the name of the drum machine he programmed his beats with), and that moniker gets a little old after a while, and songs like "Pimp of the Year" just don't match up with that senior portrait-looking nice guy on the cover. So, he's still finding his footing. I was excited to see that "And You Don't Stop" makes an appearance on this record, rounding it all out. He just changed the "Fresh for '89" line in the beginning to "Fresh for '90," and he was good to go.

I really need to get this on vinyl. Add it to the list.

"Call Me D-Nice"

Cut Chemist - The Audience's Listening (CD, 2006)

I'm not a huge fan of "turntablism," (though that's probably not technically what this is) but I read some good things about this record, and when I found it misplaced on the three dollar shelf at Ranch Records last year, I figured I'd give it a shot.

I've only listened to it a few times, because I apparently have a hard time getting into this sort of hip hop instrumental stuff, even though there are some lyrics on this one. Musically, it's pretty impressive, and I know that I need to give it more time to grow on me. It's jagged, and I think the intention is to be a bit challenging to the listener. Fine by me, except when I feel like bumping something that holds a sequence for more than 15 seconds.

But that's me, I'm finicky and intentionally hard to please. But as I sit here listening to this, I realize I don't dislike it all. I just really haven't given it all (and there is a lot) a chance to properly sink in.

"Spat"

David Crosby - If I Could Only Remember My Name (LP, 1970)

I was watching VH1 Classic last year, and for some reason I was sitting through a vintage acoustic performance by David Crosby and Graham Nash. Not typically my favorite kind of music, but if it's live (and old), I don't mind it. Plus, I read David Crosby's autobiography some years back, found it quite interesting, and hoped to at some point gain an interest in his music.

It wasn't really working for me, but when it came time to wrap up the performance, Nash coyly asked Crosby if he would perform a new song he'd been working on. Crosby seemed sheepish (I guess that's what you call making a series of alien noises), though I'm sure this was all planned, and he agreed to do it. It was called "Traction in the Rain," and about 30 seconds into it, I realized I loved it. It's a mostly empty number, just some vacant chords and a stirring melody. The lyrics are strange but make perfect sense in the context of the structure, and Crosby's voice is eerie, flighty, but dead on. Impressive, especially considering he seems stoically zooted during the performance.

I rewound it a few times, found it on YouTube after that, and developed a little thing for it. I put it on my always-crowded mental list of records to look for when I'm out shopping, and of course, had a hard time finding it. I figured it'd be cinch. I didn't try hard (didn't want to resort to eBay for this one), but a few months went by and I had yet to see it. I eventually found it at Everyday Music in Bellingham, Washington, when I was up there for a visit. Since then, I've seen it at least five times since, selling for less than I paid for it, and missing the tear mine bears in the top left corner. This is the way it works.

Calling this a "solo" record is completely inaccurate. There's about twenty guest people on it: members of the Grateful Dead (ick), Joni Mitchell, Nash, Neil Young, and a bunch of others. So, it unsurprisingly delves deep into some drug-induced hippie bullshit that I just can't get behind. But, there's a few good numbers other than "Traction."

If I was cripplingly stoned in 1970, this would surely be my soundtrack when I wanted to "mellow out."

"Traction in the Rain"

Creedence Clearwater Revival - Green River (LP, 1969)

This is another one of those Hong Kong LPs I mentioned in one of my earlier posts about Johnny Cash. I really don't know why I've held onto this record. I never listen to it. But here's the thing: I think I secretly like CCR. I mean, I couldn't get deep into it, because Fogerty's voice has got to induce involuntary hair-pulling at some point, but I really think they're a pretty badass band.

Still, I don't know why I have this album, and only this album. It does have "Lodi" on it, which is a sweet song. But, it has "Bad Moon Rising," which I could go without hearing for the rest of my life, and be fine with. And really, my favorite song of theirs is "Fortunate Son," and it's not on here. I should probably get the one with that song on it (Willy and the Poor Boys). We'll see if that happens.

As it stands, this is my only "Creedence" album, and I'll have to live with that. It's one of three they put out in 1969. Not bad. I guess it helps when they're all 30 minutes long, but what the hey.

Let's get twangy.

"Green River"

Crackerbash - Crackerbash (LP, 1992)

Crackerbash were one of those NW bands in the early 90's that was as good as a lot of the groups that got major label deals, but for whatever reason, they remained on the fringe. Maybe they wanted to. It wouldn't surprise me.

I may have seen them more than once during those magical 90's (oh, how I've romanticized the era), but I only clearly remember seeing them once. I drove down to Corvallis with my girlfriend (this must have been in '92), where we located a ramshackle warehouse type operation that was hosting a rock show. It was the Supersuckers (that's why we were there), Drive Like Jehu, and Crackerbash.

The ceilings were low, and Crackerbash's lead singer Sean Croghan was spazzing out, leaping all over the place, stomping back down, screaming in the general direction of the mic and sometimes hitting the mark. It was impressive. I remember they had a big fat drummer, a guy who sweated his ass off, looking like Tad and really beating the shit out of the drums.

I bought this on CD shortly after, enjoyed it, eventually gave it to my brother, and ended up regretting it. I found the LP at Ranch Records in Salem last year, and I'm happy to have it back on my shelf. These songs probably aren't for everybody, but if you can get into Croghan's vocal delivery (you can't understand a word he's saying), this is some hot shit. "Human Alarm Clock" and "Jasper" are the initial standouts, songs that could make it onto any legitimate best-of-the-NW-90's comp. But some of the deeper tracks are just as good, taking some weird chances and always paying off.

Some great yelping, too.

"Orion" (This isn't from this record, but it's the same era, and the only thing I could find.)