Foxy & Lil Kim

Lately I’ve been on this late 90′s euphoric trip down memory lane.

I’m usually diverse with my musical selections, but recently, taking it back to a time where rappers were big enough to be stars without outlandish side ventures has been sort of a therapeutic experience for me. I’m talking Jigga circa ’97-’98, The War Report, Ghetto D, Wu-Tang Forever. Non-fiction like Share My World and Beanie Sigel’s The Truth? You know it. I even dug up that first And1 basketball mixtape. The days of Maurice Malone and Motorola pagers may be an afterthought, but the music serves as a scrapbook to all those memories of yesterday’s past.

Let me tell you where this is going.

This just isn’t some disgruntled “I-miss-the-old-days” bullshit post.

Like the most of ya’ll, I not only find it refreshing to go back in time…I find it necessary.

Here’s why: One of the critically acclaimed LP’s that found it’s way in my rotation was Soundbombing II. Like the majority of Rawkus releases, this compilation was ignored by mainstream media and didn’t garner glossy accolades or recognition. But in the days where rappers didn’t tout first week record sales like some sort of claim to credibility, none of that mattered.

Rawkus Records Razor Logo

Boasting undisputed Hip-Hop classics like “1-9-9-9″ and “B-Boy Document ’99,” the album saw MC’s like Common, Pharoahe Monch, Talib Kweli, and Mos Def deliver standout performances. With the exception of Common, the aforementioned all-stars had yet to drop a solo album, yet were able to command the listener’s attention through their audio recordings like seasoned veterans. As enjoyable as it was, it also reiterated a harsh reality for me:

There’s a serious absence of stars who MC.

We all know there’s a couple handfuls of rappers who stay true to their craft and consistent with their character. But one thing these artists are painstakingly overlooking is the art of songwriting. It’s one thing to be dropping dope lines on dope beats, but when you can take your music and attract mass appeal, that’s saying something for your ability to write. Lupe Fiasco’s “Superstar” was a triumph for the year. Not only it being testament that popular radio could still have variety on it, but it was refreshing to hear a song that could strive on Billboard and MTV/BET while maintaining lyrical credibility. Personality issues aside, Lupe may be the only newjack who has official mic skills while still having a commercial career. You don’t need to sell a gang of records to be considered a star, just look at Common.

See any future Hip-Hop stars on the horizon?

Until then, I’ll be time travelin’ occasionally like I own a ’81 Delorean.

Rawkus Records Presents Soundbombing II