Clan In Da Front

The saga continues… Wu-Week… Wu-Week. Building off of what I said the other day, I can count on one hand how many artists/groups/crews/labels had a run like the Clan did between ‘93 and ‘97. Even without selling the most records or doing most of what’s required of an artist to have today, they had a stronghold on hip-hop.

However… I feel like sometimes, their impact on the game has been somewhat underrated. Sure, they get all the praise and accolade in the world by their mega-devoted diehard fans. But Wu-Tang stans ain’t nuthin’ ta fuck wit’, and some of those dudes can even convince themselves to listen to Masta Killa for an hour straight, so that doesn’t count. By people outside of that contingent, it’s been swept under the rug just how many things Wu brought to the table during their peak. I don’t know if muh’fukkas conveniently forgot or have neglected to recognize it, but let’s talk about it…

Granted, Wu’s impact was more on the East Coast than anywhere else, but it was every bit as strong as Death Row’s was on the West around the same time. One thing that stood out about them is that they were bigger than just a great group- they were a group comprised of members that stood on their own and dropped their own solo projects. In addition to attacking with 36 Chambers, the solo albums that followed were all must-haves. From Method Man to Ol’ Dirty Bastard to Raekwon to GZA to Ghostface, anyone who was a fan of Wu-Tang made it a point to catch all of those albums when they dropped. Shit was like collecting action figures.

Wu-Tang established a level of brand loyalty with their fans that not many groups had before them. Even a group like Public Enemy at their height couldn’t get people to cop Terminator X or Sister Souljah’s shit. But the Clan was giving instant credibility to anything that came out with that “W” bird symbol attached to it. On top of the group and the individual projects, they even had a “B-team” that were able to gain their own listeners strictly by affiliation. Wu fans would at least give artists like Sunz of Man, Shyheim, and Killarmy a listen on the strength of being Wu.

Influence-wise, there’s a lot of artists who might not admit it today, but Wu had (in RZA’s words) “everybody changin’ their muh’fukkin’ name”. When Raekwon’s Cuban Linx dropped, and every member busted out with the “a.k.a.” shit, I can’t count how many people followed up for the next two years or so with some kinda alias. Nas was “Escobar”, 2Pac was “Makaveli”, Biggie was pushin’ the “Frank White” shit hard, AZ became “Sosa”, Fat Joe was “Don Cartagena”… it was a trend that everybody hopped on. Anytime an album features a skit that told rappers to stop bitin’ their shit, and rappers continued to bite their shit, that speaks for itself.

And it wasn’t just the artists in the biz. There were just as many aspiring artists who were damn near practicing copyright infringement. I know from my own encounters, B-More had more than a fair share of groups with 7-10 members that all had aliases. They’d always have these obviously Wu-inspired names like the “Disciple Assassins” or some shit, and hook-less songs with titles like “Left Ventricle” and whatnot. If it was like that here, I can only imagine how it must have been in New York and the surrounding areas. Just like all the other greats had their share of descendants, Wu-Tang definitely had theirs.

If it seems like I’m almost ready to credit these niggas with starting civilization, I ain’t goin’ that far. I just acknowledge that there’s a lot of things that weren’t goin’ on before Wu-Tang did it. RZA’s production at times stretched the guidelines of what could be sampled, while everyone else was either sticking to jazz or funk records. Then there’s the terms like “cream”, which may have been an everyday word around their way, but became an everyday word in hip-hop after “C.R.E.A.M.” dropped. All that “doin’ deals with Dominicans/eatin’ pasta with the Sicilians/coke connects in Bolivia” shit niggas were rappin’ about? Yeah, them. I could even talk about how Meth had dudes wearing gold fangs and wristbands and motorcycle gloves and shit, but y’all get the point.

With Wu-Tang, it was mostly all about the music. But inside of that music, and all the things that came with it, the whole game got affected in one way or another. There’s a lot of crews to this day who talk about having a “movement”, but theirs was shown and proven without the propaganda and slogans. That “Wu-Tang Killa Bees, we on a swarm” shit wasn’t just a slick-sounding catchphrase, it actually went down like that.

Method Man “Method Man (Remix)” (1993)

Ol’ Dirty Bastard feat. Method Man & Raekwon “Raw Hide” (1995)

GZA feat. D’Angelo & Inspectah Deck “Cold World (Remix)” (1995)

Raekwon feat. Ghostface Killah “Rainy Dayz (Remix)” (1996)

Ghostface Killah feat. Raekwon, U-God, Masta Killa, & Cappadonna “Winter Warz” (1996)

Cappadonna “‘97 Mentality” (1997)

The RZA “Tragedy” (1997)

Wu-Tang Clan “Triumph” (1997)

-D!

“I’ll Let You Try My Wu-Tang Style…”

As promised… this is Wu-Week, as I will be covering some of the things that made the Wu-Tang Clan important not only to me as a listener, but to hip-hop as a whole. Clearly, I gotta start where their story begins. Nah, not the “Come Do Me” or “We Love You Rakeem” videos… the debut album, Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers), which hit the stores 16 years ago today.

Around mid-’93, the buzz started on the Clan, off the strength of their “Protect Ya Neck” single. Then came “Method Man”- a joint that I recall hearing on the radio a few times one weekend, and by the following week, every other dude at my school was repeating that “M-E-T-H-O-D… Man!” hook. There was a lot of new music about to drop then, so my ears were all over the place at that point. I was mostly looking forward to albums by Snoop Dogg, Black Moon, KRS-One, A Tribe Called Quest, and even Erick Sermon’s first solo joint. I liked the Wu’s singles, but I wasn’t actually dying to hear the album, and I didn’t even know what day it was coming out.

But that November, about a week or two after it dropped, that’s when the shit kicked off for me. I went into a record store, intending to cop Das EFX’s second album, Straight Up Sewaside… but they were playing 36 Chambers in the store. It was at the end of “Wu-Tang Clan Ain’t Nuthin’ To Fuck Wit” and about to head into “C.R.E.A.M.” By the time “C.R.E.A.M.” ended and Meth was threatening to tie Raekwon to a bedpost with his asscheeks spread out ‘n’ shit [STOP], I was sold.

I might’ve listened to that Das album about five or six times total, but I played 36 Chambers to death all the way into the spring of ‘94. The Wu’s rise in the game came almost strictly off of street buzz and word-of-mouth, and I can understand why. If everybody else reacted the same way about the album that I did, then one person told five people, who told 10 people and so forth. I can’t count how many heads I put on to it, and I definitely ended up dubbing it for a number of muh’fukkas.

As I said earlier, there was other good stuff out there, but Wu was in a whole ‘nother zone. Sound-quality wise, the shit sounded like they recorded it on a blank tape and turned it in. Yet, at the same time, it was perfect. I can’t even picture hearing it any other way today. Whether intentional or not, it sounds exactly like the “Protect Ya Neck” video looked. The same way that video was EXTRA low-budget (even by ‘93 standards), and still drove their movement ahead… 36 Chambers sounded like a rough demo, but blew everybody else’s shit away.

I, and everyone I knew, literally listened to that tape until we knew every word of it. From the 12 actual songs (or 11, depending on how you count the two versions of “7th Chamber”) to the skits (“Is he, is he, is he dead?”) to that long-ass interview in the middle. The Karate flick samples, RZA’s beats, and of course the lyrics made it (and the Clan itself) a hands-down favorite for me. They even ended up going platinum, which I’m not even sure they expected, but officially established them as one of the top groups in the game.

With little to no advance hype or huge radio record, Wu-Tang blew the fukk up with an album that was too great to be ignored once the public caught wind of it. It was the beginning of a hellafied run for the Wu, which I’ll get into further with my next entry. 36 Chambers is the most perfect imperfect album I’ve ever heard, and I doubt I’ll hear another like it. Nobody does it like this anymore… not even them.

“Bring Da Ruckus”

“Shame On A Nigga”

“Da Mystery Of Chessboxin’”

“Wu-Tang Clan Ain’t Nothin’ Ta Fuck Wit”

“C.R.E.A.M.”

“Method Man”

-D!

This Is The New Stuff!

A cassette of Jock Jams, Vol. 2 and a King Just t-shirt goes to the lucky soul that can correctly identify where I got the title of this entry from. Don’t let the fringe benefits pass you by.

In between listening to lots and lots of old shit, I sometimes decide to live dangerously and check out some new shit too. Every now and then, I come across a song that forces me to repeatedly listen to it- and by choice, not by default like how the radio does. Over the last week or so, these five have found space in my iPod, somewhere between my L.A. & Babyface playlist and more K-Solo songs than I should prob’ly have. Check ‘em out:

Alicia Keys “Try Sleeping With A Broken Heart”: My favorite home-wrecker and yours is about to drop her fourth album, The Element of Freedom, next month. Her lead single “Doesn’t Mean Anything” was aight, but I liked it better when it was called “If I Ain’t Got You”. Her new one “Try Sleeping With A Broken Heart”, however, is more like it. If this song doesn’t become a huge damn deal, there is a problem with society at large.

Clipse feat. Cam’ron “Popular Demand (Popeye’s)”: I’ve been a fan of Clipse since “Grindin’” smashed the streets about eight years back (wow). I’ve also been a supporter of Cam’s retardedly wacky wordplay for a good 12 years. And then there’s The Neptunes, who I spent a good four years stanning earlier in this decade. All of these components together, and it’s a no-brainer that I’m rockin’ with this shit here. Daaaaaaaamn.

Amerie feat. Trey Songz “Pretty Brown”: Maybe it’s the Mint Condition sample, maybe it’s not- but I’m fukkin’ with this all day. Along with Trey Songz (who took time off from inventing sex and whatnot), Amerie drops one of those occasional magic songs she’s been capable of every once in a blue. Def Jam better get on their job.

50 Cent feat. Eminem “Psycho”: Much like the homie DMX, Fiddy’s music pretty much covered all the ground it’ll ever cover yeeeaaaarrrs ago. BUT I do still enjoy his interviews, and he still slides thru with some good shit from time to time. This new joint from Before I Self Destruct features Eminem, and they both go somethin’ kinda hard (as they’ve been known to do when they collab).

Ryan Leslie “Zodiac”: Shoutout to Dart Adams for puttin’ me up on this one via his site, Poisonous Paragraphs. R. Les’ new album Transition ain’t half damn bad, and “Zodiac” is the one I’ve been stuck on since I’ve downloaded heard it. Dumb lyrics aside, I can’t help but clap and hit a lil’ semi-step to this shit, and that’s really good enough for me. Shoutout to the Aries and Leo ladies… we’re compatible, babeh.

Next week is Wu-Week. It ain’t what you want babeh, it’s what you need babeh. Until then, y’all have a good weekend… and yeah, “F” love.

-D!

“Put Me On A Planet, Dammit, Where All The Sistas Look Like Janet…”

Welcome to November on DanjLovesThe90s, where you’ll be able to check out Wu-Week, find out why the Isley Brothers’ “Between The Sheets” has done so much for so many, and get to celebrate the big 3-0 with the fukkin’ man himself. But first things first, I wanna talk about this great woman right here. You can call her Penny, you can call her Damita Jo, you can call her Ms. Jackson if you’re nasty… but her first name ain’t “Baby”… it’s Janet.

I was about six years old when I really caught wind of who Janet Jackson was. Prior to that, I hadn’t ever watched Fame, and her years on Good Times and Diff’rent Strokes were a lil’ before my time. Naturally, my first introduction to her came when I started watching and taping videos. During ‘86 and ‘87, Janet’s six videos from her Control album (especially “Pleasure Principle”) got a lot of burn in the VCR at my house, just as the album got a lot of play on the stereo.

With the help of Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis (who I spoke of last month), Control was the album that saved her singing career, which at that point was on its last leg. Of course, they continued making hits together for all the albums that followed. It was hard to be a music fan in the ’80s and ’90s without hearing Janet. Even though I wasn’t necessarily buying her albums, I always knew when there was a new one out or when she had a new video, because she was all over the TV and radio. From stepping like the S1W’s on that Rhythm Nation shit to the sexual content on her later albums, Janet stayed on my radar for the most part through the ’90s.

To this day, Janet remains the only Jackson that  without really being in the shadow of Michael, which speaks for itself. Of course she was Michael’s sister, but after a certain point, she wasn’t “Michael’s sister” more so than she was Janet Jackson. Even when Mike was killin’ it with Thriller, it wasn’t doing much to boost Janet’s career by association. She could’ve easily been in the same boat as Rebbie or Latoya, but she got over on her own talent and music. That being said, she was also Mike’s biggest supporter when he went through all the crazy shit. She was right there with him in the “Scream” video, smashing TV’s and flippin’ the bird as MJ shocked the world with “stop FUCKIN’ with me!”

But I’d be remiss to just talk about the music without also mentioning how much of a BANGER Janet was. From the time I was six, staying up late to catch Friday Night Videos to the time I was 24 watching her titty pop out at the Super Bowl, there wasn’t much bad that I could say about JJ. I don’t know where to start with how big a deal she was. Do I talk about the smile? The body? The moves she did on stage when she got all freaked out? And then there’s some of those things she says on those songs… good got-damn. I may never wanna see her try to be a girl from the hood again, and I wasn’t crazy about that time she had those braids lookin’ like branches, but I could stand to watch Janet do almost whatever she wants.

Later this month, Janet’s about to drop a “Number Ones” album, consisting of songs that went to #1 whether in the U.S. or overseas. There are 33 songs on this album, just as a reminder to anyone who might not notice or acknowledge how major of a run she’s had. She’s also gotten back up with Jam & Lewis and is working on her 11th album, set to come out next year.

It’s been a minute since Janet’s dropped a great record (especially with that lil’ cockroach Jermaine Dupri trying to turn her into some kinda hip-hop MILF a couple years back), but I wouldn’t count out the chances of a comeback just yet. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s defied odds.

“Alright (Remix feat. Heavy D)” (1990)

“That’s The Way Love Goes” (1993)

“If” (1993)

“Any Time, Any Place (R. Kelly Remix)” (1994)

“And On And On” (1994)

“Velvet Rope” (1997)

“I Get Lonely” (1997)

“Got ‘Til It’s Gone (feat. Q-Tip & Joni Mitchell)” (1997)

-D!

This Year, Halloween Falls On A Weekend…

…I wonder if the Geto Boys are trick-or-treatin’.

It went down like this: It was September of 1991, and I was in 7th grade. I’m in the process of making my umpteenth tape of shit off the radio, when this newness enters my world. I’d been mildly familiar with the Geto Boys, because my brother had one of their albums, and I liked their “Do It Like A G.O.” video from the year before. But they really showed up on my radar with “Mind Playing Tricks On Me”, which I must’ve played about 10 times on the way to school the next morning.

As one of the only hardcore groups from the South at the time, Scarface, Bushwick Bill, and Willie D picked a winner with that one. In ‘91, “gangsta rap” wasn’t getting much mainstream love at all- not even groups like N.W.A., who were selling records out the ass anyway. As a matter a fact, it was also when “gangsta rap” artists weren’t aiming for that acceptance either. There were no “obligated singles” on the albums, all stickin’ out like a sore thumb and begging for attention. With groups like the Geto Boys, it was 100% street shit, take it or leave it.

Here it was, flat on the table: three different people dealing with paranoia due to the lives they lived. Scarface’s character can’t even close his eyes without thinking somebody’s out to get him, and he’s even driven his girl away because he didn’t trust her. Willie D thinks he’s being followed everywhere he goes, knowing it could be someone out for revenge. Lastly, Bushwick is really fucked up in the head, because he snaps and starts beatin’ the shit outta someone who isn’t even there. The paranoia theme has been covered a number of times since ‘91 (from Cypress Hill to Master P to Beanie Sigel), but only a few have driven it home like the GBs did.

“Mind Playing Tricks…” is one of those instances where a song simply strikes a chord with the people. It doesn’t come with a bunch of fanfare or a brand-name producer’s name stuck to it. It doesn’t get play because of who the artist is (especially since the GBs had no commercial savvy whatsoever at that time). It wasn’t what was commonly known as a “hit”, with a catchy chorus or an MTV-friendly video. The quality and content of the record was just so strong that it stood on its own and is acknowledged as a classic today. They don’t make ‘em like this anymore. God damn, homie.

Geto Boys “Mind Playing Tricks On Me” (1991)

-D!

DANJ! Presents: One Hitta Quittas, Vol. 1

I don’t know what to tell y’all. That Young Menace shit really made my got-damn week. In keeping with the “Whatever Happened To…” theme, I’d like to dedicate today’s entry to four artists who have provided my iPod with a good damn 16 minutes’ worth of music. Of course, I’ve proven that I can do entries about those artists who really did their thing in the ’90s, but why not take time out for the nigga who made “Return Of The Mack”? Today, I give you… One Hitta Quittas, Vol. 1. POW, punk ass!

MC Brains “Oochie Coochie” (1991): Remember back when Michael Bivins put out Another Bad Creation, then Boyz II Men, then he ended up with like 73 artists signed to his Biv 10 label? One of those was the pride of Cleveland, Ohio… MC Brains. This lil’ catchy number dropped in late-’91 and had the middle school dances jumpin’ around my way. My favorite lyric was always “Lisa, Kim, Angela, Monique/ Them are some freaks with some big physiques”. The “big physiques” part still cracks me up- it sounds like he’s talkin’ about female wrestlers or some shit. Anyway, he followed up this hit with a single called “Everybody’s Talkin’ About MC Brains”… and then, well… go ‘head and finish that however you want.

DRS “Gangsta Lean (This Is For My Homies)” (1993): Ah yeah. ‘93 was mo’ gangsta than a muh’fukka. From The Chronic to Menace II Society to Tupac shootin’ cops and rapin’ girls in the ass, Cali was killin’! Naturally, the suits at Capitol Records figured, “hey, it’s workin’ for the rappers- why not an R&B group?” Enter DRS, a.k.a. Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, and one of the best/worst songs of the year. Tell me you don’t wanna sing along and laugh at the same time when the one nigga says “tell him put down those dice for a second, Lord… listen to his HOMIEEE!” It wasn’t necessarily an awful song- but how much longevity could a group dressed as gangbangers (pause) actually have? Seriously, what was their next song gonna be about? Jackin’ niggas and doin’ drive-bys? I guess the public felt the same way, because “Gangsta Lean” was the beginning and end of DRS.

Skee-Lo “I Wish” (1995): I don’t know if an artist has ever made a hit song about physical limitations and gone on to further success. The only exception might be this shit right here, but he was already deep in his career. Skee-Lo, on the other hand, came out the gate wishing for more height. He also wished to be a baller with a good-lookin’ girl, a rabbit in a hat with a bat (?), and a ‘64 Impala. The summer of ‘95 was good to him, as this song landed him all over radio and MTV. Then, September arrived, and Skee was wishing to score another hit. Instead, he got a spot on the Money Train soundtrack. Fair enough.

Mark Morrison “Return Of The Mack” (1997): As possibly the only nigro in the late-’90s still rockin’ a Gumby fade, Mark Morrison took his hit from Germany and brought it over here a year later. With a catchy-ass hook and a voice that gave hope to Akon, Mizark got it poppin’ in the spring of ‘97 with “Return Of The Mack”.  After this one came and went, the mack returned to Germany and can now be seen opening for David Hasselhoff. That could be a joke, but maybe it’s not. While I’m on the subject, this is another one of those songs that I coulda confessed to liking. I denied it for a good while, especially when it was out… but I do. But I do, do, do.

As y’all well know, it doesn’t stop there- the list, much like the beat, goes on. I’ll be covering more of these in future entries, as there are a lot to choose from. In some ways, one hit wonders are special. Sure, they work at GameStop today, and they probably get their “one lil’ hit” thrown in their faces every time they get into an argument with their significant others. But for three to four months of someone’s life, they were the shit, and no bitch-ass manager or girlfriend can take that away from them.

-D!

(so… who are some your favorite One Hitta Quittas?)

“I Grow Up To Be A Streiht Up Menace, G’yeah…”

I know exactly what you’re thinkin’ right now.

“Who’s this, Drake’s little brother? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of whoever this is.”

Oh… you’ve heard of him. Don’t think so?

How ’bout now?

That’s right, good people: if you’ve ever wondered what the lil’ kid who played as Anthony in Menace II Society is up to these days, here you have it. His name was Julian Roy Doster, but now, his name is Menace (clever, eh?) and guess what… he’s an aspiring rapper. Sigh.

Unfortunately, he only has one song on his MySpace page. On top of that, it sounds like a mix of J-Kwon’s “Tipsy” and the Ying Yang Twins‘ “Whisper Song” (but that’s to be expected- they were movin’ to Atlanta, right?). I think what the young Menace needs is a lil’ artistic direction. He’s halfway there with the name, so he might as well go all the way in and take on the entire character. Excuse me as I do a lil’ armchair A&R for this kid’s album- a concept album, if you will…

“Guess Who’s Back?”: The re-introduction to lil’ Anthony, now 22 years old and takin’ the harsh realities from the street to the studio, with his aggressive content.

“Big Wheels”: It’s been a long time since his brand-new Big Wheel got shot the fukk up right along with Caine and Sharif. Nowadays, Young Menace is pushin’ some serious whippage… why not make a track about it?

“I’ll Whoop Your Ass!”: He ain’t a kid anymore, so he can say it all he wants now.

“Mama”: The tear-jerker of the album, dedicated to Ronnie’s fine ass. Anthony shows love to the woman who read books to him, threatened to break his tail if she ever caught him with a gun, and gave him juice instead of beer when he was thirsty. Speaking of which…

“I’m Thirsty, Can I Have Some Beer?”: The ULTIMATE bottle-poppin’ anthem for 2010. Everybody’s talkin’ about how they got the Patron and the Jose and all that bullshit… but Anthony can change the game all over again by bringing back the 40 oz.

“Pow, Punk Ass!” (feat. MC Eiht): Here, Anthony could brag about the time Caine showed him how to shoot when he was 5. Now all grown up, he’s in these streets big wheelin’ and cap-peelin’. Eiht (a.k.a. A-Wax) intros the track with the eternally classic ad-lib, “wake yo’ punk ass up!”

“Fatherless Child”: Tear-jerker #2, as Anthony reminisces on growing up without someone to show him the way. First, Pernell got life, then Caine got death. Could be the “Papa Was A Rollin’ Stone” for the new generation.

“Ileana’s Cousin”: The album comes to a climactic end, as Menace exacts revenge on the man who killed his father figure. What’s up now, pot’na?!

BOOM. Add in a couple filler songs, use one of those pictures from the movie as the album cover on some Illmatic-type shit, and there it is. Now I’m off to find Ross Bagley a.k.a. Little Nicky from The Fresh Prince Of Bel-Air. Have I got an idea for him: a Will Smith dis track called “I HATE YOU WILL!”.

-D! (shoutout to the homiechick Jia)

Man Behind The Music: Teddy Riley

Here on DanjLovesThe90s, it’s not always about rappers and singers (though it is most of the time)… it’s also about the beats. Besides, without the music, everything would be a cappella. Boyz II Men woulda been a barbershop quartet, and all of DMX’s songs woulda sounded like the “Prayer” interludes from his albums. *shudder*

So with that, today’s entry is about legendary producer, Teddy Riley.

Teddy changed the sound of a whole genre before he was old enough to buy a got… damn… drink. In 1988, R&B got introduced to the New Jack Swing sound, and he was the king of that whole thing. Before that, there were a few instances where R&B acts mixed their music with a hip-hop feel, but people weren’t all the way ready for it yet. Most of the music was still maintaining its distance from rap, and vice versa. That was still a time when you could cut on the radio and hear the DJ’s almost bragging about not playing rap, and also hear rappers dissing singers in their rhymes.

For the most part, Teddy’s music still had an R&B identity. Even the ones he did for rappers had a more polished sound to them. But his production stood out, because it was just enough of both sounds to appeal to both crowds (although not everyone was totally crazy about it). It was completely new, to the point where some stuff that came out just a year prior seemed old as shit by comparison. Respect to the others who did their thing as well, but the late-’80s/early-’90s were TR’s time.

I was only 8 years old when his music started hitting. Up to that point, I knew nothing about who was behind all the music, I just knew who the artists were. TR was the first person that I recognized as the one who made the beats for these people. He was a member of Guy, who were putting out some of my favorite songs at the time, but it didn’t stop there. It was also “My Prerogative”, “It Takes Two”, “Just Got Paid”, “Wild Wild West”, et cetera, et cetera. As a matter of fact, he said it best himself on Wreckx-N-Effect’s “New Jack Swing” (sing along if you know it):

“I got Keith Sweat, Heavy D, Today, Moe Dee, B. Sure, and my man Bobby Brown… I got Zan the Man, Redhead, Boy George, James Ing, Deja, and my homeboys Guy…”

In addition to that very abridged list, he went on to work with Michael Jackson, Janet Jackson, The Jacksons, Big Daddy Kane, LL Cool J, Hi-Five, SWV, Hammer, The Winans, Tony! Toni! Tone!, Soul II Soul, and a gang more. In some cases, he was like hired help for artists who couldn’t make hits anymore. In other cases, he was the one to call when new artists needed to score one.

Years before Puffy would be the producer/personality known for making his presence on other artists’ songs, Teddy was kind of the prototype of that. He wasn’t much of a rapper, but he still rapped on certain songs. He wasn’t the best singer out there, but he sang anyway. You could always know a song was produced by him because he’d be on it saying shit like “yep-yep” (the equivalent of “that’s right”). Last but not least, he was allll in the videos… allll on the records… dancin’.

Going back to what I said earlier, TR’s biggest accomplishment was that by the early-’90s, almost every bit of uptempo R&B music on the radio sounded like his shit. Even producers who were on top before he came along (Jam & Lewis, L.A. Reid & Babyface) were making some of their songs in a New Jack Swing style. If I could compare NJS to something, I’d say it’s the same way Alternative Rock came along and dominated rock music until it wasn’t the “alternative” anymore.

Eventually, NJS started moving on out as the second half of 1992 rolled in. Just like other producers had done with him, he ended up having to absorb himself into the Hip-Hop Soul sound, which he didn’t do too poorly. He kept it going as a member of BlackStreet, and still pumped out hits, although his workload definitely got lighter.

It’s been a hot minute since his last big record, but the ones on his resume are kinda like a big deal. Even this decade owes a lot to his legacy, because he was an early mentor to The Neptunes, who practically ran the whole first half of the 2000’s. I try not to make these entries long as shit, but I def. had to acknowledge Teddy Riley’s contributions, as should anyone who recognizes. Salute!

Guy “Teddy’s Jam 2″ (1990)

The Winans feat. Teddy Riley “It’s Time” (1990)

Michael Jackson “In The Closet” (1991)

Heavy D & The Boyz “Is It Good To You” (1991)

Hi-Five “I Like The Way (The Kissing Game)” (1991)

Wreckx N Effect “Rump Shaker (Remix)” (1992)

Bobby Brown “Get Away” (1993)

SWV “I’m So Into You (Remix)” (1993)

BlackStreet “Don’t Leave Me” (1996)

Queen Pen feat. Teddy Riley “Man Behind The Music” (1997)

-D!

He Was Murder, P. Diddy Made Him Pretty…

Everything was all good just a week 12 years ago.

So… I’m here on a Sunday night, ready to call it an evening, right? Then, I come across a video of epic proportions. During an interview with Diddy and the Dirty Money girls on Atlanta’s V103, the one and only Mase pops up and hits Sean with some papers to sign. After the papers are signed, Pastor Mason rejoices that he has finally been released from his Bad Boy Records contract.

Now let’s be clear here: I don’t think Puff did that out of no “goodness of his heart” shit. That paper got signed because Mase had a live mic and Puff wasn’t tryna get put on blast while on the air. After all, he’s already been caught out there on some bullshit once this month. This was probably the culmination of Mase making repeated phone calls, having meetings, walking up to Puff at parties and being told “my office hours… are from 9… to 5″ and all types of shit. Finally, he had to go and put homie on the spot. Now that’s what the fukk I call a Proactive Solution.

See, as much as I respect Poppa Diddy Pop and all that the Bad Boy brand was, I wouldn’t doubt that he’s blackballed or contractually handcuffed a few niggas in his lifetime. Being “LOCKED IN!” is all well and good when you’re just followin’ him on Twitter, but when it comes to your livelihood, it might be a different story. Ah well, both parties’ll be OK after this. Puff’ll continue doing whatever he’s doing, and Mase will continue to make records no one cares about, no harm done. But since we’re on the subject… let’s go back.

Once upon a time, there was a rapper named Mase Murder who rolled with Big L and Children of the Corn (which also consisted of Cam’ron Killa Cam and Cam’s cousin Bloodshed). After realizing that yelling on the mic only works when your voice doesn’t sound like Benjamin Buford Bubba Blue, Mase decides to calm his shit down. After making this creative decision, he finds himself signed to Bad Boy in early-’96. I might be in the minority, or maybe I’m not… but I actually liked him a lot more in his prime Bad Boy years. Some people are much better at the street shit than the “commercial” side, but it goes the other way too, and M-A-dollar sign-E is one of those cases.

So as the story goes, Mase pops up on 112’s remix for “Only You” and takes off from there. While Jadakiss is busy crying about having to write Puff’s lyrics, Mase gladly does so, and is rewarded as a result. Before you know it, he’s not only on remixes left and right, but also on huge hits like Puff’s “Can’t Nobody Hold Me Down” and Biggie’s “Mo Money, Mo Problems”. Then comes his own album, Harlem World, which goes on to sell units out the ass. Then… no sooner does he assemble a group named Harlem World (uhhh, Baby Stase!) and start work on his second album Double Up, Mase decides to “retire” and find God in ‘99.

Not for nothin’, Betha had a good damn run for those two years or so. I know the backpack niggas wanted to break his jaw, but he was doin’ his thing. He had the radio shit down pat, he had the star quality, and he still found time to drop some hot verses in the middle of that. I might even go as far as to say that he’s somewhat underrated, due to the perception that he was just some goofy-doofy nigga in a shiny suit. I mean, sure he was- but in that package, he still had some memorable lines. Even on the most candy-ass songs (except for that awful Rugrats shit), there was a chance that some of his slickest shit slipped by those too busy bein’ mad to notice.

All the fuckery that followed his exodus is a story all its own. From calling hip-hop “the devil”, to the weakest comeback album ever in ‘04, to the strange G-Unit affiliation in ‘05, to being caught out there with the tranny… all a bunch of madness. And now, after leaving the game again back in ‘06, he’s decided to come back again for ‘09. Only this time, he’ll be doing it without Diddy or Fiddy. I’m sure the world anticipates his project as much as they do the Dirty Money album.

In the meantime, I’ll just remember the old days, cause that’s just what I do. *waves wrist in the sky with no Rolie*

112 feat. Notorious B.I.G. & Ma$e “Only You (Remix)” (1996)

Puff Daddy & Ma$e “Can’t Nobody Hold Me Down” (1997)

Funkmaster Flex Freestyle feat. Ma$e & Puff Daddy (1997)

Ma$e “Feel So Good” (1997)

Ma$e “Lookin’ At Me” (1997)

The Lox feat. Ma$e & Puff Daddy “If U Want It” (1997)

Puff Daddy feat. Ma$e & Carl Thomas “Been Around The World (Remix)” (1998)

Ma$e feat. Puff Daddy “I’m No Killa” (1998)

Harlem World feat. Ma$e “I Really Like It” (1999)

-D!

EDIT (10/21): Because I’m not big on gossip-mongering, new info states that it wasn’t exactly what it was made out to be. It turns out that Puff actually signed a form that enables Mase to appear on other peoples’ records, but he remains a Bad Boy artist. That is the extent of the “freedom papers”, as they were called by Mason. Eh.

The Neo-N*gga Of The Nineties

The first time I heard D’Angelo was during my spring break in ‘95. I was half-watching a video show on BET called In Your Ear, when the video for “Brown Sugar” came on. On my first listen, I didn’t even know he was talkin’ about weed, but I liked that song. The following weekend, I called my favorite record store asking if they had it, and they didn’t even know what I was referring to. By the weekend after that, not only did they know exactly what I was asking about, but it was already sold out.

D’Angelo was a unique artist when he came out with “Brown Sugar” and the album of the same name. His sound wasn’t really like the “traditional” R&B, but it also didn’t sound like the Hip-Hop-inspired R&B that was all over the place by then. Around ‘95, there weren’t many people making 100% organic music and still appealing to the people my age. As much of an enthusiast as I am about the decade, the ’90s weren’t exactly the time for instrumentation in comparison to previous decades. That was more of a “mature” sound if anything, and it was almost considered to be like jazz. Minus a couple of exceptions, most of that kinda stuff wasn’t flyin’ with the youngins unless it had a remix.

But with D’Angelo’s music, it had a more current style that wasn’t so far out of the box that it got overlooked. I even knew people who didn’t like much R&B, but did like Brown Sugar. It was a new thing that was later called Neo-Soul, but at the moment was just good music in its own space. Artists like Maxwell and Erykah Badu followed, and while they did it on their merit, I can say that the success of D’Angelo likely opened that lane for them to get the airplay and exposure that they got. Had he flopped, their spots could’ve easily gone to whomever was doing their best R. Kelly impression at the time.

By journalists, D’Angelo was seen as a combination of other great artists before him, and even as a successor to Prince. Not sure if that was a lot of pressure for him (although it probably was), but he ended up becoming more and more scarce as the ’90s continued on. With the talents he had, he was also more intense when it came to his music being on-point. While others with about half the talent were out there on a regular basis, D’Angelo took all the time he needed and wanted. When he finally did follow up with Voodoo, it was an album that kinda went two ways- some loved it, some hated it. It ended up getting consumed by two things: the fact that it wasn’t as accessible as Brown Sugar and a video that overshadowed his musical intentions.

It’s been almost 10 years since D’Angelo’s last complete piece of work, and R&B is even further from its core than he thought it was back then. To a degree, I wouldn’t even say he’s made for this era. He was an artist who studied all the greats and incorporated their influence into his music, whereas most of the interest as of late has been in making a hot record for this month. Of course, he’s also been sidetracked by “other” stuff, which makes the chances of another album even more unlikely. There’s been one promised for years, but I’m not sure I’d bet money on it coming out.

Much like Lauryn Hill, I think it’s safe to say D’Angelo’s absence has been brought on by both his own personal issues and music industry issues. Sucks too, because those first couple years seemed like the beginning of some epic shit.

“Brown Sugar” (1995)

“Cruisin’” (1995)

“She’s Always In My Hair” (1997)

“Devil’s Pie” (1998)

“Untitled (How Does It Feel)” (1999)

-D!