He is a charter member of the Wu-Tang Clan. He is the creator of The Purple Tape and its stellar sequel. His flow is filthy and his wordplay is wicked. He invents slang and dictates fashion trends. He is a New York rap legend with a long history of competition and collaboration with many of the other greats.
But Raekwon’s most underrated aspect is his ability to craft a hook.
My baby turns four years-old today. No, not my daughter, though she does turn 4 next month. Today, we celebrate my other, first baby.
It seems that Nas has had some sort of history with seemingly everyone in the world of hip-hop.
Welcome back to the latest – and final – edition of Flashback Friday Flop, a weekly feature in which I examine a hip-hop album from years ago that was considered a flop, either critically or commercially or both, when it was released and see if it has gotten better – or worse – over time.
This is the 25th entry of this series and while that is an arbitrary number, it’s a nice one with which to end. In fact, the truth is that I’ve explored most of the albums that I’ve wanted to within this space. To continue going forward every week would lead to me doing it out of a sense of obligation rather than interest. When that happens, the writing suffers.
This month will mark the sixth anniversary of the death of Keith Elam, better known as Guru, one-half of the legendary group Gang Starr. Unfortunately, Guru, who was already one of the most underrated emcees in hip-hop history, has had his memory and legacy besmirched and exploited in recent years by his last musical associate, Solar, a man that controlled much of his life, both professionally and personally. Rumors about the relationship between the two are rampant, to the point that the drama and speculation in Guru’s final days have threatened to overshadow his impact on – and contributions to – the hip-hop culture.
Welcome back to the latest edition of Flashback Friday Flop, a weekly feature in which I examine a hip-hop album from years ago that was considered a flop, either critically or commercially or both, when it was released and see if it has gotten better – or worse – over time.
It is difficult to overstate the importance of Public Enemy. The architects of four powerful, groundbreaking albums from 1987 to 1991, including what many (myself included) believe is the greatest hip-hop album of all time, Chuck D, Flavor Flav, and company created politically-charged, aggressive, sonically-stunning, suped-up hip-hop music that spoke truth to power and shined a light on the plights of the black community. Chuck D, along with Rakim, KRS-One, and the other greats of the late 1980s, was instrumental in rap rhymes becoming more nuanced and complex.
“A lawyer with his briefcase can steal more than a hundred men with guns.“
– Mario Puzo, The Godfather
Society demands that we be easily categorized. We are defined not only by our race, gender, geographical location, and political leanings, but also by the things we buy, wear, and drive, and how we choose to spend our days and nights.
Welcome back to the latest edition of Flashback Friday Flop, a weekly feature in which I examine a hip-hop album from years ago that was considered a flop, either critically or commercially or both, when it was released and see if it has gotten better – or worse – over time.
Asher Roth was supposed to be next.
Welcome back to the latest edition of Flashback Friday Flop, a weekly feature in which I examine a hip-hop album from years ago that was considered a flop, either critically or commercially or both, when it was released and see if it has gotten better – or worse – over time.
Puff Daddy and Bad Boy dominated the music industry in 1997, releasing three albums that year – The Notorious B.I.G.’s Life After Death, Puffy’s own No Way Out, and Mase’s Harlem World – that combined to sell twenty-one million copies and gave birth to the Shiny Suit Era.
Welcome back to the latest edition of Flashback Friday Flop, a weekly feature in which I examine a hip-hop album from years ago that was considered a flop, either critically or commercially or both, when it was released and see if it has gotten better – or worse – over time.
One of the biggest albums of 1996 was The Score, the sophomore album from a New Jersey group by the name of Fugees. While they seemed to come out of nowhere, the trio of Wyclef Jean, Lauryn Hill, and Pras had actually been around for several years and had already released a major label album to their name.
The Passion of Christopher Pierznik 