“Sometimes I wish I could
Stop the world from spinning and step out of it…”
-Diaz Brothers feat. Matrix and A-Butta, “Keep Pourin”

I’d like to think I’m a special, unique snowflake, like my mom tells me…but I know I’m not. I’d bet a handful of you reading this had a similar development arc in your love for Hip-Hop. Mine went something like this:

…The “dumb deaf and blind interest in the pop rap fed to me by top 40 radio” phase
(He’s The DJ, I’m the Rapper; 2 Legit 2 Quit)

…The “who’s this guy with the cool voice on the Beastie Boys song” phase
(Midnight Marauders; Blowout Comb; Buhloone Mindstate)

…The “holy shit if Wu-Tang isn’t the best shit ever I don’t know what is” phase
(Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers); the entire first round of Wu solos; Forever)

And then it really got crazy. The whole initial independent/”underground as fuck” movement, centered around Rawkus Records was crazy. Progression, energy, meaning…if you wanted to hear everything you thought Bad Boy Records WASN’T…this world was yours.

A centerpiece of this era for many was the incredibly packaged double disc Lyricist Lounge Vol. One. Each and every track brings me back to a more innocent time, for me and for Hip-Hop.  Rappers didn’t have clothing lines, there were more fans than MCs, and I didn’t have credit card debt. Read the rest of this entry »

This definitely goes without saying but in terms of posse cuts:

1998>2008

You can front all you want but all these “hood anthems” we’re being bombarded with nowadays are straight up garbage, and forgettable. Does anyone remember Webbie was on the remix to “Speedin???” Who had your favorite verse on “Don’t Touch Me (Throw Da Water On ‘Em)???” And why is that we refer ever new Khaled collabo as “I’m So Hood Part ____???” The usual suspects of the era still managed to be everywhere there was a studio, but in terms of actually making an impact, the difference is vast. In this day and age, all these dudes are concerned with is cashing a check. And you can tell because that’s all their regurgitated rhymes entail.

While the days of MC’s battling on tracks for bragging rights may be an afterthought at the moment, the legacy is not. Backtrack for a few minutes with these collaborative efforts that’ll guarantee to cause chronic neck spasms when you relive them. Read the rest of this entry »

Gotty knew as well as I did…

Witchdoctor is the most forgotten member of the Dungeon Family. Which probably makes his debut disc A S.W.AT. Healin’ Ritual a physical piece of amnesia.

Call it bad timing. With DF brethren Outkast delivering an album that defied the laws of nature as well Goodie Mob handing out seconds of soulful foodfor thought, ATL had selected its all-star lineup to represent for ‘98. Read the rest of this entry »

Words By David D.

I still remember the commercial. LL Cool J. White Background. Mr. Todd spittin’ like it was ’88. The subject: FUBU.

FUBU came to the south at a pivotal time for me. It was 98′. I was twelve and about to partake in that very important Mother-Son discussion (second only to the Birds and the Bees) in which I meekly request to stop hittin’ up Wal-Mart to get fly for school.

Before FUBU came to us in the South, we could always tell a person from up North. They were the cats rockin Timbs and some sort of shirt with a name brand we’d never heard before and could barely sound out. FUBU was the precursor to the eventual LRG, Ecko. Enyce, etc. most of us have been wearing for years. It was the first urban designer brand that we really saw in southern department stores. Prior to the FUBU explosion, Starter jackets and sports jerseys were the barometers for flyness. The psychological effects of this change cannot be overstated. Instead of wearing reminders that the only way out was being skilled with a Basketball or Football- we began wearing symbols of Black entrepreneurship by wearing clothes developed and marketed by a group of hard working and young African American men. The acronym, For Us By Us, is a unifying and positive statement for youths to have on their chests. Read the rest of this entry »

Ask and ye shall receive.

This one is for Rome and Ghost, who made a completely valid point that dudes were nutty for wrasslin in ’98. Not so much the case for my lay-tees (see :40 for ten seconds of why… a wee bit questionable, fellas.) But I digress…

Enjoy.

Have you been keeping up this week?

’98 Shots

Rappin_4-Tay-Bigger_Than_The_Game-Retail-1998

RBX-The_RBX_Files-1998

Sleepys_Theme-The_Vinyl_Room-1998

Tanya_Stephens-Ruff_Rider-1998

The_Beatnuts-Remix_EP_The_SpoT-1998

The_Crips_Nationwide_Rip_Ridaz_2_Betrayed-1998

The_Roots-The_Legendary-EP-1998

Timbaland-Tims_Bio_Life_From_Da_Bassment-1998

Twista-Mobstability-1998

Tyrese-Tyrese-1998

U.G.K.-Ridin_Dirty

VA-Cutmaster_C-Last_Man_Standing-TAPE-1998

VA-DJ_Clue-Clue_4_President-1998

VA-DJ_Clue-Queens_Day_Pt._1-1998

VA-Survival_of_the_Illest_Live_From_125_NYC-VBR-1998

WC_The_Shadiest_One-1998

Whitney_Houston-My_Love_Is_Your_Love-1998

Witchdoctor-S.W.A.T._a_healin_ritual-1998

Yukmouth-Thugged_Out_Albulation-CD1-1998

Yukmouth-Thugged_Out_Albulation-CD2-1998

’98 Shots

Looking back on my pre-high-school excursion to my friends’ rural, middle-Michigan cottage, a weekend theme of “Ghetto Supastar” seems somewhat amiss. I mean we were 13-year-old suburbanites being chaperoned to a two-story cabin, for Pete’s sake. There was nothing ghetto about it.

But, music is music, no matter what the title suggests, and occasionally it can transcend into something much more than song.

With the fresh-out-the-cardboard sleeve CD single getting a summer’s worth of burn to, fro, and every second in between the four-hour treks, it’s no coincidence that Pras’ only US solo hit will forever go hand-in-hand with that momentous trip that united and ignited a few life-long friendships.

Upon the first strum of that Wyclef-assisted bass-line crescendo, I’m immediately brought back to missing teeth, marshmallow-infused sibling rivalries and my mans’ prized Tommy sandals floating off into a fresh-water oblivion. When I hear ODB wailing the echoes of the first refrain, I can remember John, who will be on his second tour of Iraq in September as an Airman, falling asleep on the car ride to the cabin, banging “Supastar” on repeat from his disc-man at max volume, then denying it when we called him out on it. When I hear Mýa hypothetically trying to reel me away from reality with her super-catchy hook, I’m reminded of my un-tit-touching mind frame falling in love with the newcomer’s innocent voice, as I optimistically hoped, “God, this chick is going to be huge.”

And, then she was. Essentially, because of this song. Read the rest of this entry »

Words By David D.

There used to be a time when reading comic books was seen as a hobby for overweight, socially inept hermits with a large porn collection to make up for lack of a girlfriend or interaction with the fairer sex.

Like ’98, that’s a thing of the past.

Now, comic books have hit the mainstream due to their blockbuster movie adaptations over the past few years. No doubt, we are in a Golden Age for Comic Book Movies…but things haven’t always been this way. Granted, we had some amazing Super-Hero movies back in the day with the Christopher Reeves Superman flicks and the first Batman movie helping bring comics out of the campy “Bam-Holy Corniness” funk of the 60′s.

After the second Batman movie (which wasn’t that great in its own right), things went terribly downhill in a horrible George Clooney-piloted blaze of burning Superpoop. We had the atrocious Punisher movie starring Dolph Lundgren of semi-Rocky fame, the low-budget Captain America debacle, and the Fantastic Four flick that never saw the light of day. Hell, Marvel Comics was even bankrupt for a minute.

But we have one man to thank for the resurgence of the Comic movie genre.

Wesley Snipes and a little project known as Blade. Read the rest of this entry »

Prior to Time Waits For No Man, Rasco was already buzzing on the strength of his now underground classic “Unassisted.” Babu had used the single as the jumpoff for the World Famous Beat Junkies Volume One mixtape, and for over a year, that’s all people had to go off.  When the album finally dropped in July of 1998, the anticipation turned to celebration as Rasco did exactly what “Unassisted” hinted he could do: make a banging Rap record with substance.

Aside from a couple break records, Time Waits For No Man was the first album released by Stones Throw, which in itself makes it one for the history books. With Peanut Butter Wolf’s overseeing (and production on four songs), Rasco enlisted a potent team of producers including Paul Nice, Evidence, Kut Masta Kurt, Fanatik, DJ Design and Joey Chavez. Sonically, the sample based album was a Hip-Hop heads dream; chock full of fresh chops and loops, crushing horn stabs, clean bass and even a couple of those Pete Rock-esque interludes. Not to take anything from Rasco, as he definitely did his damage, but the variety and quality of the production was impossible to ignore. Read the rest of this entry »

We need a September 29th, 1998.

It was the eve of what would become one of the greater days in Hip-Hop, and music history at large.

Five of the most impacting albums to ever be released that year dropped on the 29th: A Tribe Called Quest split ways on The Love Movement, as Brand Nubian reunited on Foundation, Jay-z got back on his grizzly with Hard Knock Life, while Mos Def and Kweli came together (none) for Blackstar. All the while Outkast prepared to change the world with Aquemini.

There was more than just new music being released, there was history being made by each one of these releases. Read the rest of this entry »

Delightful.

When you decide to remake one of the most influential rap songs of all time, you better do it right.

So like I told TC, Def Squad came correct with their remake in ’98.

When it came time for Reggie, Erick Sermon and the ‘baby of the bunch,’ Keith Murray, to record their version of Sugarhill Gang’s archetypal “Rapper’s Delight,” they didn’t do much more than tweak the original.

Aside from it becoming the trios only real hit, it was (and is) the only reason I can spit just about every single word to the almost 7-minute song when I hear it get play at clubs with taste.

Word to my youth.

Words By TC

Sinister.

True, Def Squad did successfully make a “true old school” gem sound relevant but Pun & Joe shaaat on the original Deep Cover like their was no original. And like Pat M. said, when it gets to that “Lil’ Italy, middleman rhyme,” END game. Even Snoop was in the video showing love. I gave you fair warning Beware, Deep Cover ’98 is killin’ anything “delightful.” Grit over gloss homie.

Def Squad – Def Squad Delite

VS.

Big Pun & Fat Joe – Deep Cover ’98

Words by David D.

Many labels/crews promise to release albums from all of their members only leaving us waiting for (or forgetting) an album from “Crewmember A” is supposed to come out. For better or worse, this didn’t happen with No Limit. 23 albums. The label dropped 23 albums (each equipped with it’s own phonetic spelling) in 1998. That’s almost two albums a month! These guys flooded the market in ways Lil’ Wayne could only dream of.

There were commercial successes with Master P’s MP Da Last Don, Silkk’s Charge It 2 Da Game, and Mystikal’s Ghetto Fabulous. These albums, powered by mega-singles such as “It Ain’t My Fault” and the rambunctious “That’s That Nigga.” The crew also put out some straight bangers with the underrated Fiend album There’s One in Every Family and Mia X’s Mama Drama. While Silkk, P, and Mystikal were making grand strides to the mainstream, Fiend and Mia X had the hood’s ear.

Look a little closer and you’ll see some hidden gems from artists whose careers ended too soon. Soulja Slim released a slept on Give It 2 ‘Em Raw while C-Murder was repping on the terribly prophetic Life Or Death.

If you want to actually go to the record store and cop these albums, there’s no need to try to look them up by title or artist. Just look for the portion of the store with the most light reflecting off, because 21 No Limit albums meant 21 faux-diamond encrusted lettering and shitty photoshopping. The albums are collectors items just for the sheer hood-campiness they provide.

From Master P all the way down to Skull Duggery, No Limit flooded the stores, guaranteeing that everyone out there had to be a fan of somebody on the label…right? Read the rest of this entry »

Words By Jada G.

Sometimes I’m goody goody…

The summer of ’98 belonged to MTV’s long-standing “Jam of the Week,” and its key ingredients for a warm weather classic: slick choreography, a budding super producer and a rising star. “Are You That Somebody” was a transitional moment for Aaliyah. The sweep over her eye began to lift, and her “street but sweet” style had all the girls sporting her baggy jeans and cropped tops. Her sexy cat and mouse choreography slyly complements one of Timbaland’s most recognizable beats. Even ten years later, most of us can remember when and where we heard it for the first time. All the girls knew the choreography and asked for the “Aaliyah” hairstyle at the salon. Complete with catchy baby coos à la Timbaland, it’s the song their parents couldn’t get out of their heads.

Everyone remembers the flamenco scene, where she exchanged her baggy sweats and midriff for a sleek black skirt and a sexy Latin dance. No one remembers the Dr. Doolittle scenes playing on screen projectors throughout the video.

The shine of an icon is timeless.

Aaliyah Feat. Timbaland – Are You That Somebody?

For all you next-gen gamers thinking you’re living it up with your Halo’s and Killzone’s, let me remind you where it really began at. Yeah, Doom may been the OG of first-person shooters to really gather a following, but Goldeneye 007 really took it there. Never was there just a single game that made an otherwise worthless gaming console worth purchasing (yeah I said it). Take yourself back to the rainy days of 1998 for a moment. Go to your homeboy’s living room. Undoubtedly there was a Playstation, as they were ubiquitous with every household at the time. But in that other corner, inside that pancaked piece of plastic, sat the silver cartidge bearing Pierce Bronson’s likeness while he posed with that PP7 with the silencer attached.

You had to have to it.

I was fortunate to be part of the perfect setup. My boy had the big screen, I had 4 controllers and we’d play the most murderous rap music we had to accent the occasion. Nore’s “Body In The Trunk” blasted from the Sony boombox while we endured Pistols in the Stack. It was lights out for all players if someone got a hold of that RCP-90 when it was Power Weapons in the Temple. Master P’s “Let My 9 Get Em” did the rest of the talking. And it was double the torture singing along with Pun, telling your opposistion “You Ain’t A Killa” while emptying your clip into their lifeless torso while the blood trickled down their portion of the screen. And we didn’t play that power meter shit. If you came to our neck our woods, prepare to submit your “License To Kill” because them one-hitter quitter shots were bout as real as it got. Read the rest of this entry »

When R. came out in 1998 it was winning as the complete panty-dropper on high school and college campuses all over the nation. Start the heavy petting with a little “Get Up On A Room,” allow the awkward dance to progress with Crucial Conflict on “Ghetto Queen,” and then settle into some 2 min. love making with “Half On A Baby.”

None of this, however, matters in retrospect on account of everything Mr. Kelly says yesterday, today and tomorrow has new, inextricable innuendo.

Half on a baby?? Gross.

Which half? The bottom half? Who’s the baby? How old is she?

Because no matter what you say, I will always always always believe Robert Kelly A) peed on a young girl and B) has a problem. R. will never again be in my CD player on the way to my boyfriend’s house as it was when I was a junior in high school. There is no way that joint could put me in the mood. Ever. Again.

TSS extended family Phonte wrote a blog after Robert Kelly was acquitted of the now infamous charges against him. He put the whole situation in perspective better than I could… so let me hand over the mic… Read the rest of this entry »