8Ball & MJG – Comin’ Out Hard (August 17, 1993)

Since the mid-nineties, I’ve known about 8Ball & MJG, but I never dug into the Memphis duo’s catalog. In my defense, a ton of great hip-hop albums were released almost weekly during that era. This was years before you had access to every album at your fingertips via your smartphone, and the only way to access the music was to purchase physical copies (i.e., CD, cassette, and vinyl) or rip or burn a copy from a friend who already purchased a copy of the album. Whatever the reason, I missed the entire 8Ball & MJG run from ‘93 until 2010. But there is no time like the present.

I may have breezed through a couple of 8Ball & MJG records on the radio or seen one or two of their videos back in the day, but I never really paid attention to them. In the back of my mind, 8Ball & MJG seemed to be run-of-the-mill rappers spewing the same redundant pimp shit that a thousand other southern rappers were. Then I reviewed the America Is Dying Slowly compilation album for the blog and heard “Listen To Me Now,” and my opinion started to change. Over a slick and funky bass guitar riff, 8Ball & MJG brilliantly issued a PSA on AIDS, rapping from the perspective of HIV for the first half of the record. The shit was fire. I later discovered cameos from the duo on The Almighty RSO’s Doomsday album and Mase’s debut project, Harlem World. They weren’t as creative or as conscious as their performance on “Listen To Me Now,” but they were impressive enough to get me to track down physical copies of their catalog, starting with their debut album, Comin’ Out Hard.

Comin’ Out Hard was the first album released on Suave House Records, founded by Tony Draper. Draper is also credited with producing all nine tracks on the album. COH never received an official RIAA certification, but according to Suave House and the streets, it sold over 500,000 units, building a solid foundation for the label.

I usually don’t pay more than ten bucks for a used CD. But the collector in me and my intrigue with 8Ball & MJG’s music made me pay much more than ten bones for my copy. This review marks my first time listening to Comin’ Out Hard. Hopefully, it’s worth the investment.

Intro – Over eerie, slo-mo, lean-influenced chords and drums, Satan himself (played by MJG) stops by to welcome the listener to Memphis and the album, and he introduces the players for the evening. What the hell (no pun) is up with that hideous laugh at the end of his monologue? It sounds like Alvin Seville is getting an exorcism.

9 Little Millimeta Boys – After several listens to this record, I believe that “9 little millimeta boys” has a dual meaning. It’s Memphis slang for a sucka or a chump, but it also describes a killer, which is the persona 8Ball & MJG adopt throughout this song. The Memphis duo threatens to kill every “9 little millimeta boy” in sight, and according to 8Ball, women can get a taste of the heat as well (would that make their female victims 9 little millimeta girls?). The “thick as Heinz” bass line, combined with exhilarating HBCU marching band-like horns, is the audio double Dutch ropes 8Ball & MJG jump in between, quickly finding their rhythm, and completely smoke this shit. Both figuratively and literally.

The First Episode – Tony Draper whips up a production that’s as spooky as it is funky, as 8 and M give the listener a glimpse into the underworld of pimpin’ and drug dealing. As usual, 8Ball delivers solid bars, but MJG shines the brightest on this track, providing intricate detail about the key players in his drug ring and his prominent prostitution clientele. He even lists his prostitutes’ price menu (I don’t solicit hookers, but $200 for her to jack you off sounds extremely overpriced, even by 2026 standards).

Armed Robbery – Draper’s instrumental was clearly inspired by the Mission: Impossible theme song, making for the perfect cinematic soundtrack to back 8Ball & MJG’s thrilling bank-robbery script. There are a few holes in their storyline, but overall, I was entertained.

Pimps – TD chops up Womack & Womack’s reworking of Teddy Pendergrass’ “Love T.K.O.” and turns it into a beautifully soothing musical canvas (I love the soulful Cecil Womack vocal looped up for the hook). Our hosts paint it with high levels of pimpology and misogyny, and some of the content was uncomfortable to listen to (mainly 8Ball’s persistent mention of beating women). I hope the domestic violence portion was just a bit and not their truth; and if it was their truth, I hope they’ve put that dark side of their lives behind them.

Comin’ Out Hard – For the title track, our hosts give us more of what we’ve heard from them on the previous four tracks. Mr. Draper mashes up Simply Red with Rufus, creating a soulful groove for 8Ball & MJG’s gangsta/pimp propaganda to breathe on.

Mr. Big – 8Ball gets the first solo joint of the evening, jumping back into storytelling mode as he details his rise from lowly Mickey D’s worker to drug kingpin. The bars are engaging, and Draper scores the affair with Casio keyboard-esque chords, spiced up by a monster bassline and sleek 808 drums. This was fire.

Nigga’s Like Us – The beat and rhymes on this one sound like they were recorded a few years before the rest of the album. This is easily the weakest track on the project. And by the way, blowing up nigga’s cars for calling you fat is crazy, 8Ball.

Pimps In The House – Comin’ Out Hard ends with an MJG solo joint. The title might lead you to believe this is more of the same pimp promo we’ve gotten on the rest of the album. It is partially, but MJG also examines how the concept of pimps and hoes reaches beyond the streets into politics, government, and the world. The bass line sounds like a muscle-bound dude’s getting ready to kick your ass, accompanied by slithering 808s and discrete wah-wahs. It doesn’t stand up to 8Ball’s solo record, but it’s still decent.

If you read this blog regularly, you know Illmatic is my favorite hip-hop album of all time (and if you’re new to the blog or didn’t know, the blog name is an obvious breadcrumb). Illmatic is full of stellar production and masterful hood poetry from a youthful and hungry Nasir Jones. The combination was magical, but just as important as the music and bars on Illmatic was its conciseness. At nine tracks, Illmatic left no room for fluff, and each track was packed with appetizing, well-conceived content. Like Illmatic, Comin’ Out Hard was truncated to nine tracks. But that might be the only thing the two albums have in common.

On their debut album, 8Ball & MJG spend the entire forty-two-minute runtime slangin’, killin’, and getting high. None of it is original, even by 1993 standards, and it gets redundant (and at times cringeworthy, specifically when 8Ball gets into his domestic violence bag on “Pimps” and “Niggas Like Us”). Yet for most of COH, the duo makes the regurgitated subject matter their own, dressing it up with their unique Memphis diction, slang, and southernly soulful cadences that keep you engaged.

While 8Ball & MJG hold court with their performance on COH, I was even more impressed by the Tony Draper-led production. TD maestro’s the affair, blending sleek 808 drums, tough bass lines, funky synth sounds, and a few soul samples (see “Pimps” and the title track). A couple of his instrumentals fall short, but overall, Draper’s southern-fried production sounds great underneath 8 and G’s Memphis-influenced street soliloquies.

On second thought, there are a couple more things Illmatic and Comin’ Out Hard have in common. On “Mr. Big,” 8Ball raps about grabbin’ his “TEC from the dresser.” On Illmatic’s “Represent,” Nas raps about “Pulling his TEC out the dresser.” Illmatic lived up to its title. Comin’ Out Hard does likewise.

-Deedub
Follow me on Instagram @damontimeisillmatic

Best & Worst Of 1997

Long time no see, but I’m finally back! Before we delve into 1998, I’ll be doing a little housekeeping, starting with a lot of 8Ball & MJG. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the Best & Worst of 1997.

Worst Moniker: Kukoo Da Baga Bonez (The X-Ecutioners – X-Pressions): It just sounds dumber than the other nominees. Honorable Mentions: True Da Grynch Evil (Frankie Cutlass – Politics & Bullshit), Barney Rubble (Laylaw – The Lawhouse Experience, Volume 1), Godfather PT III (DJ Muggs – Soul Assassins), Mr. Sexxx (Lost Boyz – Love, Peace & Nappiness), Horny Man (The Beatnuts – Stone Crazy).

Worst Posse Record: “Painz & Stife” (Diamond D – Hatred, Passions And Infidelity): Diamond D serves up arguably the driest beat in his catalog for himself, Pete Rock, and (God bless the dead) Phife to rap over. Diamond’s verse is passable, but the beat, Pete, and Phife sound godawful. Honorable Mentions: “Iraq” (Capone-N-Noreaga – War Report): Nore and his amateur band of cronies almost lulled me to sleep with their mundane street stanzas; and the whiny violin-led backdrop was annoying as shit. “Tore Down” (Tha Alkaholiks – Likwidation): Tha Liks keep up their album tradition of making horrible posse records with The Lootpack, despite J-Ro doing all he can to break the pattern. “The Body Rock” (Busta Rhymes – When Disaster Strikes): This uninspired Flipmode (Busta and Rampage)/Bad Boy (Puff and Mase) collab was memorable only for its mediocrity.

Worst Album Title: The Album (The Firm): The most generic, placeholder album title ever. Honorable Mentions: Dominology and The World Of Dominology (both by Domino).

Worst Album Artwork: Cross Bearing (Lil’ Raskull): No Limit Records was known for its cheesy, low-quality album cover artwork. Grapetree Records was a Southern-based Christian hip-hop label that copied NLR’s album-cover style, leaving Cross Bearing a victim of the cheese. Honorable Mentions: Heaven’s Mentality (Cross Movement): The members’ four floating heads inside a transparent God head floating through the clouds looks mad corny, and I find it hard to believe that God has a receding hairline. Phenomenon (LL Cool J): The grainy artwork is bad, but it becomes embarrassingly bad considering it was released on Def Jam during the label’s glory days. And what the hell is the picture of anyway? Dominology and The World of Dominology (Domino): Virtually the same album gets two different but equally horrible album covers.

Worst Album: In Tha Beginning…There Was Rap (Various Artists): Some of hip-hop’s biggest names of the era perform underwhelming karaoke. Honorable Mentions: Overcast! (Atmosphere): If vanilla was an album. F’Real (Murs): Easily the worst mixed album of the year. The World Of Dominology (Domino): Dominology was already mediocre, but Domino doubled down and released pretty much the same album with a slightly different title. A complete waste of wax, time, and energy.

Best Moniker: Hot Nickels (Method Man on Wu-Tang Forever): It’s only right that the king of aliases delivers the dopest alias of 1997. Honorable Mentions: Jungle Brown (Camp Lo – Uptown Saturday Nights), Blaq Gold (Lil’ Raskull – Cross Bearing), Gab Gotcha (The Beatnuts – Stone Crazy).

Best Posse Record: “Beasts From The East” – Love, Peace & Nappiness (Lost Boyz): One word: Canibus. Honorable Mentions: “You & You & You” – Politics & Bullshit (Frankie Cutlass): This gets a mention for Redman’s magnificent verse alone. “L.A. L.A.” – War Report (Capone-N-Noreaga): A spirited response to Tha Dogg Pound’s “New York, New York.” Bluntz & Bakakeemis” – Da Dirty 30 (CRU): When verbal vitality carries the beat.

Best Album Title: Life After Death (The Notorious B.I.G.): The title was intended to be a play on the title of his debut, Ready to Die, but his untimely demise gave it new meaning. Honorable Mentions: One Day It’ll All Make Sense (Common), Likwidation (Tha Alkaholiks), X-pressions (The X-Ecutioners), Back In Business (EPMD), Silent Weapons For Quiet Wars (Killarmy).

Best Album Artwork: Uptown Saturday Night (Camp Lo): The homage to Ernie Barnes’ iconic Sugar Shack painting (made famous for its use on Marvin Gaye’s I Want You album cover and the ending credits for Good Times) is dope, clever, and fitting for all the seventies nostalgia that Camp Lo conjures up on the album. Honorable Mentions: The Album (The Firm): I love the tribute to Casino, one of the greatest Mafia movies ever. Scout’s Honor…By Way Of Blood (Rampage): Silly, but cleverly unique. One Day It’ll All Make Sense (Common), Life After Death (The Notorious B.I.G.).

Sleeper Album: Accept Your Own & Be Yourself (The Black Album) (No I.D.): This award could have gone to any of the candidates (see the Honorable Mentions below), but Accept Your Own is a dope album that most of you didn’t even know existed. If the other candidates are sleepers, Accept Your Own is comatose. Honorable Mentions: The Mind, Da Dirty 30, War Report, Unnecessary Roughness, Hatred, Passions And Infidelity, Back In Business.

Best Album: Uptown Saturday Night (Camp Lo): Camp Lo’s luxuriously abstract flows over Ski’s scrumptiously soulful production result in an unheralded classic. Honorable Mentions: Wu-Tang Forever (Wu-Tang Clan): Pound for pound, this may be the best hip-hop double album, ever. Yeah, I said it! Life After Death (Notorious B.I.G.) – Speaking of pounds…the carrier of a .44 Magnum in size 54 drawers boldly and brashly flaunts his polished flow and chiseled wordsmanship over great beats, which unfortunately became his swan song. The Carnival (Wyclef): A masterful musical adventure orchestrated by the genius Haitian ringmaster.

Cameo Whore: Busta Rhymes (10 cameos) – If you’ve listened to hip-hop any time in the past four decades, this should come as no surprise. I’m willing to bet his name will be called for this award again in the near future. Honorable Mentions: Puffy Daddy (8). Redman (7).

-Deedub

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Various Artists – Soundbombing (October 14, 1997)

Finally, we’ve made it through 1997! This is my final ’97 album review, but I plan on posting the best and worst of the year in the next few weeks. I hope you enjoy the read, and thanks for time traveling with me.

By 1997, Puff Daddy and his Bad Boy Empire had begun to infiltrate hip-hop with an overabundance of bling talk and material gluttony. Often dubbed the Shiny Suit era, this new feel of hip-hop was commercially successful, which would make all other record labels and rappers begin to follow suit, aka copycats. But there will always be a few who choose to go against the status quo.

Rawkus Records was founded by two Brown University students (Brian Brater and Jarret Meyer) in 1995. Recognized by its black razor logo, it has been heralded by some as the last great hip-hop label for upholding the music’s organic integrity and helping spark the careers of legends like Black Star, Pharoahe Monch (post-Organized Konfusion), and Eminem. Rawkus laid its foundation in ’97, releasing the label’s inaugural album, Company Flow’s Funcrusher Plus, in July, and the subject of today’s post, Soundbombing, in November.

Soundbombing is a compilation album hosted by DJ Evil Dee of Da Beatminerz, featuring a bunch of up-and-coming New York-based emcees and one wily veteran who has reinvented himself a thousand times throughout his lengthy career (more on that later). As expected, the album wasn’t a commercial success, but it was a critical darling, receiving mostly positive reviews.

I bought a used CD copy of Soundbombing over a decade ago, and I may have listened to it once all the way through, which isn’t enough to form a solid opinion. It almost slipped through the cracks of my not-so-foolproof blog spreadsheet until one of my faithful readers (what up, Tony?!) asked me if I owned it. I remembered I did, and here we are today.

Intro – Our host for the evening (DJ Evil Dee) welcomes us all to the album and hits us with his signature tagline. This is followed by rugged drums, an ill jazz piano loop, and a short refrain from a group called Brick City Kids.

Flipside – R.A. the Rugged Man is one of those rappers I don’t know much about, but every time I hear him rap, I’m thoroughly entertained. He continues to entertain on this one-verse wonder, expressing his disappointment with the music industry and pretty much everybody on planet Earth. He’s backed by a muddy musical bed that suits his gutter delivery and flow well. I’m not sure who produced the track, as the liner notes hi-lariously state, “All information concerning R.A. is currently unknown.”

Fire In Which You Burn – Indelible MCs was a short-lived supergroup consisting of Company Flow (El-P, Big Juss, and Mr. Len), J-Treds, and Juggaknots (Breezly Brewin, Queen Herawin, and Buddy Slim), and I use the term “super” loosely. Only Breezly Brewin, J-Treds, Big Juss, and El-P rap on this track, and they all make passable performances, but their undynamic vocal tones get lost in El-P’s ear-straining, stale instrumental.

Lune TNS – This one is credited to Company Flow, but it’s really a Big Juss solo joint. His instrumental sounds like the soundtrack for a white-coated mad scientist in his lab mixing formulas in beakers. Juss uses the misty backdrop to list a bunch of New York City taggers’ aliases and gives the listeners who don’t get it a big middle finger. I thought it was cool.

Nightwork – I was introduced to Sir Menelik via Dr. Octagonecologyst, as he played Keith’s off-the-wall sidekick, Chewbacca Uncircumcised. He makes his first appearance of the evening as Cyclops 4000, spraying El-P’s bouncy boom-bap with a clip full of abstractions. I can’t follow half of what Menelik is saying on this track, but his verbal word salad over El-P’s gritty production was intriguing.

Arabian Nights – In the mid-nineties, Nick Wiz was quietly putting together an impressive production resume (with production credits for Miilkbone, Mad Skillz, Rakim, Cella Dwellas, and Chubb Rock records), and this is a nice addition to his discography. He crafts a sleek banger for Shabaam Shadeeq (who sounds heavily influenced by Nas) to paint with slick urban slang. This was fire.

Fortified Live – Speaking of fire, Talib Kweli, Mos Def, and Mr. Man from Bush Babees keep the blaze going on this intellectual cipher session. Everyone knows Talib and Mos (who in 1997 were revving up to release their debut Black Star album the following year) are elite-level emcees, but Mr. Man never got the proper chance to shine in his rap career. He takes full advantage of this opportunity, out-rapping his contemporaries (who sound great in their own right) and Hi-Tek’s ill-ass beat. His “I’ll cut your ass in half and leave you with a semicolon” bar was ridiculously witty.

Show Me Your Gratitude – I’ve never heard of L-Fudge before this record, and this was a horrible introduction. I hate his choppy flow, and the whistling beat (credited to a Rich Boogie) was as annoying as listening to Loren LoRosa stumble through a segment of The Latest on The Breakfast Club.

Till My Heart Stops – Side One of Soundbombing ends with an R.A. the Rugged Man/8-Off duet. I first became familiar with 8-Off (aka Agallah) as a producer, producing tracks for the likes of Onyx, PMD, and EPMD. He licks his rapping chops on this record, and his raspy voice, paired with R.A.’s humorous, semi-psychotic gruffness, makes for an entertaining listen over the darkly emotional instrumental.

Freestyle – After Evil Dee welcomes us back for side two of Soundbombing, Talib Kweli does a little riffing over some cool jazzy chords. That quickly comes to an end when Shawn J. Period’s triumphant loop drops and Talib and Mos hot potato the mic with off-the-top freestyle rhymes. The bars are pretty solid, and we find out that Talib once went by the alias of Genesis. I’m glad he chose to go with his government.

So Intelligent – The Dr. Octagonecologyst duo (Kool Keith, the wily vet I mentioned in the opening, and Sir Menelik) reunites on this record, and if “Nightwork” was a word salad, this shit is a vernacular full-course meal. I couldn’t decipher much of the oddball emcee’s nerdy composition, but I still enjoyed listening to their heavily coded abstractions and the ironically simple hook. I didn’t care for the boring backdrop, but there is a remix of this record with a much livelier and harder instrumental.

Empire Staters – The rapper on this track, B-One (not to be confused with KRS-One), shares his perspective on life from a NYC hustler’s point of view. He sounds like he may have fallen from the Mobb Deep tree and rolled down a few hills away from it, and I say that in the most complimentary way possible. The gully drums and unnerving chords (credited to Chuckie Madness) paint the nighttime New York City streets as unsafe, while also igniting my anxiety in the most entertaining way possible.

If You Can Huh… – Shawn J. Period throws Mos Def some ole beautiful shit to drop jewels over, and he doesn’t disappoint. By the way, I love the song title and hook; I have to start using that line on my kids when they “Huh?” at me.

Universal Magnetic – Mos starts this off by kicking a mediocre alphabet rhyme over a basic drumbeat, and oddly skips over J and ends at P. Things get better from there, as The Mighty Mos takes off the introspective conscious cap he wore on the previous track to get into some light-hearted emceeing (I love the Eddie Murphy Delirious and Raw references). Shawn J backs Black Dante’s bars with warm vibrations and a cloudy melody that I thoroughly enjoyed. This concludes an impressive two-piece Mos Def/Shawn J Period suite.

What If? – L-Fudge gets another shot, but this time he brings in plenty of help. He’s joined by Mike Zoot, Talib Kweli, Shabaam Shadeeq, and Skam, and the five of them have plenty of questions to ask over DJ Spinna’s anxious instrumental. This was decent, but it’s got nothing on “The Questions” (Mos Def and Common), “21 Questions” (50 Cent), or Jadakiss’ “Why” (coincidentally, Jada also made a song called “What If,” which was an obvious attempt to recapture the success of “Why;” it didn’t, but that track was also stronger than this record).

My Crown – I found a 12” vinyl copy of this record a few years ago. I knew nothing about the record or Black Attack, but bought it for a few bucks on the strength of the Rawkus Records logo printed on the label. It turned out to be an inexpensive gamble that paid off. Black Attack presents as a competent emcee with smooth verbals, and the Ghetto Professionals’ tough backdrop makes his bars sound even sharper (those big vibrant horns sound absolutely amazing). Side note: the B-side on the 12” is a record called “Correct Technique” featuring Problemz. It’s a dope joint that uses the same instrumental that Talib and Mos rapped over on their freestyle that kicks off side two of the album.

2000 Seasons – The last track of the evening goes to Reflection Eternal (which consisted of Talib Kweli on the mic and DJ Hi-Tek on the beats). Talib spews plenty of food for thought over the course of two verses, and Hi-Tek’s elegant jazz break paired with strong drums makes TK’s brainy nutrients easier to digest. This delicious closing track ends with Evil Dee doing a little promo for Rawkus and himself.

In the book of Mathew, Jesus shares a parable about the wise builder who built his house on solid rock: “Though the rain comes in torrents and the floodwaters rise and the winds beat against that house, it won’t collapse because it is built on bedrock” (Matt 7:25). Compared to the foolish person who built their house on sand, and “When the rain and floods come and the winds beat against that house, it will collapse with a mighty crash” (Matt 7:27). Somehow, Rawkus knew that “seventy-four minutes of dung flavored Now & Later and ass crack Oreos” would make a great substitution for bedrock.

Soundbombing is a well-orchestrated mixtape that avoids the glam, glitz, and all the other flashy bullshit so prevalent in mainstream hip-hop at the time. It’s seventeen tracks of hungry, relatively unknown (minus Kool Keith) emcees showcasing their talent over raw boom-bap beats, all woven together by the charismatic DJ Evil Dee’s silly commentary and infectious tagline (“Evil Dee is on the mix, come on kick it!”).

Like most compilation projects, Soundbombing has a few lackluster moments. But as a whole, it’s an entertaining backpacker’s delight that has aged well.

-Deedub
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Twista – Adrenaline Rush (June 24, 1997)

The first time I heard Twista rhyme was back in the early nineties when he was going by the alias of Tung Twista. Back then, there was a bunch of hoopla around him getting into the Guinness Book of World Records as the world’s fastest rapper for pronouncing 598 syllables in sixty seconds. He signed a deal with Loud Records (becoming the first rapper signed to the soon-to-be legendary hip-hop label) and released his debut album Runnin’ Off At Da Mouth in 1992. I’ve never listened to the album, but the lead single (“Mista Tung Twista”) was proof that speed doesn’t necessarily equate to skill. He sounded like a less seasoned and less talented version of Wise Intelligent (shoutout to Poor Righteous Teachers), and the song was trash (random reminiscing moment: I remember when Treach accused Twista of biting his style and told him to “Tongue twist your ass back to Chicago” on “Sleepin’ On Jersey;” that line still cracks me up…but back to the review). Tung Twista’s gimmicky and semi-animated persona failed, leading Loud to part ways with the Chicagoan rapper. Twista would disappear from the hip-hop scene for a few years, but he would soon reinvent himself.

In ‘94, Twista released his sophomore effort Resurrection. Well, kind of. From what I could gather on the World Wide Web, Resurrection was released locally in Chicago, but since Common (another Chicago rapper) released an album the same year with the same title, Twista’s label was hesitant to release it nationally, so it came and went with very little attention or promotion. In ‘96, Twista would truly resurrect his career with his classic cameo appearance on Do Or Die’s hit single “Po Pimp,” sounding like a completely different rapper than the one we heard on “Mista Tung Twista.” He still used a swift flow, but his once overly anxious speed raps were crafted into a controlled double-time pace with a smooth delivery and slick cadence. The single went gold, and Twista would take full advantage of his resurgence, releasing his first album on Atlantic, titled Adrenaline Rush.

Produced entirely by The Legendary Traxster (the man also behind the boards for “Po Pimp”), Adrenaline Rush would become Twista’s breakout album. Even though it took two years to reach gold status (and another twenty years for it to become platinum).

I’m a casual Twista fan, and not too familiar with his catalog. But after hearing his amazing verse on “Is This The End?” (No Way Out), and a friend, whose opinion I (sometimes) trust, speaking so highly of AR, I tracked down a copy, and here we are today.

Let’s get to it.

Intro – The album begins with a brother giving Webster’s Dictionary’s definition of “adrenaline rush,” which quickly merges into Urban Dictionary’s definition of the term, followed by a skit. Twista finds out his cousin has been murdered, and he and his crew retaliate. It’s definitely an attention-grabbing opening scene.

Adrenaline Rush – The Legendary Traxster’s first instrumental of the evening is a turtle-paced, dark, and grimy audio canvas with splashes of evil, high-pitched synth sounds. Speaking of a turtle’s pace, Twista’s guest, Yung Buk (not to be confused with the Young Buck formerly of G-Unit, though I did confuse his voice for GLC, another Chicagoan rapper), sounds like a verbal tortoise compared to his host’s hare-like tempo. Their contrasting styles work together pretty well over the grimy backdrop.

Death Before Dishonor – Sticking with the theme from the violent intro, Twista’s in gangsta mode and firing shots at his adversaries with his AK-47 rapid-fire flow, and he sounds Ginsu sharp at times: “Better be/ ‘cause I readily/hit him with styles and gats that’s heavily/ armed, dangerous, and deadly/ them ahead of me/receive two holes like a letter B.” Reading those rhymes doesn’t sound nearly as impressive as it does hearing Twista spit them in double time. Traxster’s accompanying G-Funkish instrumentation is also tough, making for a banger of a record. The track ends with Twista’s homeboy leaving him a voicemail, whispering like a runaway slave that the cops are looking for him. I guess it ties in with the album’s running theme.

It Feels So Good – The softly spoken poem by a female voice, along with sleigh bells at the beginning of this record, felt heavily influenced by OutKast’s “Player’s Ball” and put me in a Christmas mood. The mood quickly shifts when Traxster’s somberly shiny and relaxed backdrop intrudes and Twista gives the listener a glimpse into a day in the life of having nothing to do but hang with his crew, get high, and bang hoes (the imagery of “one of them got chocolate big thighs, and the other was a redbone” does something to my spirit, or at least my manly imagination). Victoria Johnson adds a sultry sung hook, making the already slick record sound more enticing. The track’s followed by a news report about the murder of Jimmy Pilgrim and the hunt for two male suspects. We also get some ghetto interviews from a few eyewitnesses to the crime.

Overdose – Twista’s rhymes jump all over the place on this one, and the hook is complete ass (“I done put the fuel on it, take a pull on it, me overdosin’ on weed and sendin’ all y’all off into a thing”). I can hear where his vocals were punched in, but some of the speedy cadences he hits on this track are still mesmerizing. It did leave me curious about how Twista’s breath control is at a live show, though. Twista’s homeboy cuts him off before he finishes his verse so they can get into the next song.

Mobster’s Anthem – Twista invites the Speedknot Mobstaz (Mayze and Malif) to join him on this track as they collectively share their vision to fulfill their “Westside (Chicago) odyssey mobster prophecy.” Or in layman’s terms: become rich from hustlin’. I mentioned in my previous post that there are certain samples used in hip-hop songs that are so iconic they should never be sampled again. Traxster repurposes the Leon Haywood record that Dr. Dre used for the backbone of “Nuthin’ But A ‘G’ Thang.” It’s a blasphemous recycling, but at least Twista and crew acknowledge and pay homage to what The Good Doctor and The Dogg did on their classic record by resurrecting the legendary opening countdown. Traxster also adds another element from the same sample source, giving this record a slightly different feel than Dre’s. This one ends with another skit: A man gets interrogated by the police for a murder. It’s not clear, but I’m left to assume they’re grilling him for the body Twista and his crew caught.

Get Her In Tha Mood – A skit followed by another skit. Some young tender is in the studio being coached through a verbal porn session, and when she runs out of fresh freaky ideas, her coach (who, ironically, is a man) brings in Twista to help. I thought she was doing a fine job all by herself.

Emotions – Let’s address the elephant in the room. This record (which was also AR’s lead single) was clearly a calculated move to recapture the magic that was “Po’ Pimp.” Traxster’s instrumental is the twin brother to the backdrop he created for “Po Pimp.” Johnny P, who sang the hook on “Po’ Pimp,” returns to sing a similar refrain, and Twista rehashes the same rapid-paced player rhetoric. The only thing missing is Do Or Die. If I’d never heard “Po Pimp,” this might have been decent, but since I am familiar with the record, this shit is contrived corniness.

Unsolved Mystery – The man interrogated during the skit at the end of “Mobster’s Anthem” chops it up with his guy about the experience. Then Traxster brings in a haunted piano riff, along with tentative drum claps, eerie strings, and ghostly synth screeches as Twista raps about witnessing unsolved murders as casually as discussing sports. The hook has strong Bone-Thug vibes that sound a little copycat. Fittingly, this one ends with a skit of another brother getting shot.

Korrupt World – Traxster unleashes dirge-like organs, a sorrowful piano riff, and a mournful guitar motif for Twista and Psyde to address the gun violence so prevalent on the Chicago streets and the inner cities across the country. AR is filled with gangsta bravado, but this is the lone record on the album that humanizes the perpetrator, the victim, and the people that love both of them. This solid piece of musical social commentary is almost derailed by an asinine “Smokin’” jingle that follows.

Get It Wet – Twista and Ms. Kane take part in a little verbal foreplay as they take turns talking dirty to one another. I didn’t care much for this track, but I felt like Nasty Nelson from Boomerang listening to Ms. Kane rap explicits like “Instead all that talkin’, let your tongue do the walkin’ on down this clitoris” and “Come and take a little glimpse of these sweet hips, when that ass in the air cause a eclipse.” Maaarvelous!

No Remorse – Traxster brews up a demented synthesized masterpiece for Twista and his extended crew (Mayze, Malif, Turtle, and Link) to catch a few more bodies over. This was fire, and would have been a great way to end the album, but instead…

Emotions (Remix) – Twista brings back the lead single with a different beat, slightly adjusted rhymes, a new hook, and a new singer of the hook (Vince Walker replaces Johnny P). All things are new, but I disliked the remix more than the original.

I mentioned during the opening of this post that it was Twista’s verse as Puffy’s ghetto guardian angel on “Is This The End?” from No Way Out that intrigued me to dig into his catalog. I dug what he did on “Po Pimp,” and years later on “Slow Jamz” and “Overnight Celebrity,” but the polished double-time flow, combined with the lyrical dexterity he displayed on his No Way Out verse, sounded absolutely amazing. I was hoping to hear more of that side of Twista on Adrenaline Rush, but that version of him rarely shows up.

Twista spends most of AR spewing gangsta raps, thug posturing, partying, and chasing ass. Stylistically, he sounds good over The Legendary Traxster’s dark production scheme that blends G-funk-esque bangers with instrumentals built around thick basslines that stretch out and max (similar to “Po Pimp”). But his content is unoriginal and uncreative, and, aside from “Korrupt World,” Twista’s raps sound shallow and soulless.

The liner notes for AR are filled with four pages of data about gun violence and prison sentencing in the Black community, as well as social commentary from Wendy Day, hip-hop consultant and founder of the Rap Coalition. While the stats are sobering, most of the skits throughout the album approach the subject with a comedic tone, and when combined with Twista & Crew’s cavalier mobster energy, it almost contradicts the insert’s conscious message. From a storyline perspective, the skits miss the mark, including random moments that have nothing to do with the topic (like “Get Her In Tha Mood” and the “Smokin” jingle) and ultimately, abandon the murder soap opera it leads with without any real closure.

Horribly executed skits and mixed gun-violence messaging aside, Adrenaline Rush is a solid album. The production is dope, and Twista entertains for the most part. I was just hoping his bars would do more than make my adrenaline rush.

-Deedub
Follow me on Instagram @damontimeisillmatic

Leschea – Rhythm & Beats (June 17, 1997)

If you’re new to TimeIsIllmatic, I’m Deedub, a self-proclaimed hip-hop junkie who loves collecting CDs and vinyl. I collect other genres of music as well (i.e., R&B, seventies soul, pop, a bit of rock, and jazz), but a large chunk of my collection is hip-hop based. I’ve never listened to a lot of it, which is the main reason I started this blog (as an organized way to work my way through it). Hip-hop albums will continue to be the focus of this blog, with an occasional exception. Like the subject of this post, but it’s still hip-hop-adjacent.

Leschea, whose name you may remember as part of Masta Ace’s short-lived crew I.N.C. (or Masta Ace Incorporated), was the crew’s seldom-used vocalist. The first time I heard her sing was on the SlaughtaHouse album, where she was threatening to smoke wack niggas on “Don’t Fuck Around.” She would make a few more appearances on their second album, Sittin’ On Chrome, and after two underappreciated projects, Masta Ace Incorporated would go out of business. The I.N.C. may have been going out of business, but Ace and Leschea were about to make things super personal as they began dating, and in 2001 they made it official with marriage. But before the marriage, Leschea’s contributions to the Masta Ace Incorporated albums helped her parlay a deal with Warner Bros., and in ‘97 she’d release her debut solo album, Rhythm & Beats.

Masta Ace served as one of the executive producers for Rhythm & Beats and produced half the album. Lord Finesse and The King of Chill are among the other names with producer credits on the album. R&B produced a couple of singles that made very little noise, and the album came and went with very little fanfare.

R&B is another album that I didn’t know existed until about 8 months ago when I came across a used CD copy at one of my favorite record stores (shoutout to Cheapos!). Leschea’s name was familiar; I.N.C. is a brand that I trust, and her husband is an underrated legend. Hopefully, Leschea can live up to her affiliations on her debut.

My Flow Intro – The first five times this came on in the car, I thought my door was ajar due to the dinging noise the song begins with. Megahertz (which is an ill ass alias for a producer) quickly turns the ding into a dope instrumental built around a hypnotically ominous bass guitar loop. The first voice you hear is Leschea’s homegirl (Nikki?), and she introduces the listener to the album, shares words of confirmation to her friend, and shits on “easy pickin’ bitches livin’ in a Versace world.” Then Leschea’s fellow I.N.C alum, Paula Perry, gets off a solid verse before Leschea does a little riffing and borrows the melody from Luther Vandross’ classic “Never Too Much.” Leschea stays in pocket for most of her bit. She gets a little carried away towards the end but reels herself back in before things get out of control.

U Know The Place – Leschea’s joined by her future hubby on this one. Masta Ace gets off two verses listing some of the attributes that define his home borough of Brooklyn. Schea immediately forgets the theme of the record, so instead of crooning about BK, she sings about hanging with her crew. I like the electro-funk feel in Ace’s instrumental, and he sounds dope rapping over it. I know it’s Leschea’s album, but she should have let Ace write a focused hook for her to sing and play the background, while he shines with the bars.

Gimmie Bass – Someone going by the alias of Dirtman is credited for the melodic, warm, and bassy backdrop (the loop, or at least the melody in the loop, sounds a lot like the O.C. Smith piano loop used for Channel Live’s “Sex For The Sport”). Our hostess uses it to boast of her skills, shit on other female R&B singers, and lets us know how much she loves bass (not to be confused with the fish or crack). The lyrics were cheesy, and again, her voice gets a little shaky at certain points. But regardless of Leschea’s performance, I absolutely love the infectious instrumental.

How We Stay – This was one of the singles released from R&B. Ace recycles the James Brown loop used for Biggie’s “Just Playing (Dreams)” for Leschea to sing over. She doesn’t really have anything worthwhile to say, but at least she doesn’t try anything vocally risky.

Let Me Sing It 2 U – Ace flips Isaac Hayes’ “Look Of Love,” the same loop Irv Gotti (RIP) used for Reasonable Doubt’s “Can I Live,” and years later, would shamelessly use again for Ashanti’s hit single, “Rain On Me.” Leschea takes a crack at the sure-shot soul sample and fails miserably. She continues to struggle vocally, and her random lyrics sound like a spontaneous spoken-word poem. This one ends with a skit of Leschea getting a phone call from her girl who caps about some drama she witnessed at the mall. The skit’s not even remotely funny.

Fulton St. – This was R&B’s other single. Our hostess shares a tale about stalking, I mean, meeting her dream man on this busy Brooklyn street. The lyrics are repetitive and corny, but I dug the jazzy, bass-heavy backdrop. This ends with Leschea doing a full-blown Fila ad as she lists all the Fila apparel and accessories she owns, over a simple drum beat and a Roxanne Shante vocal loop that supports her love for the brand. I didn’t know Fila was still a thing in ‘97 (or maybe I just forgot), but I damn sure hope they paid her for this full-throated endorsement.

Let Me Know – There are samples so perfectly flipped and paired with the perfect rhyme that they should never be allowed to be used again. For example: The Patrice Rushen loop that Q-Tip (Tribe Degrees of Separation) used for Mobb Deep’s “Temperature’s Rising.” Fabian Hamilton repurposes the loop on this track as Leschea contemplates whether or not she should leave her street pharmacist boyfriend, played by Ike Dirty, who spits a verse trying to convince her to be his ride or die. Conceptually, the song wasn’t bad, but Leschea and the female vocalist who joins her during the hook (and wisely stays anonymous in the album credits) sound horrendous and completely desecrate the sacred ground that is Ms. Rushen’s “Where There Is Love.” Give it a listen, and I’m sure you’ll agree that I’m not exaggerating.

3 To 5 – Leschea sings about waiting for her incarcerated lover over a dark Sly Johnson loop (with production credits going to Masta Ace and Mister Cee (RIP)) that will forever be remembered in the annals of hip-hop as the foundation for Raekwon’s “Heaven & Hell” off his classic solo debut, OBFCL. Her storyline’s actually decent, but similar to the previous track, this loop belongs to RZA, Raekwon, Ghostface, and Blue Raspberry. Period.

All On You – Leschea doesn’t cover any new territory with this one. She caught her man cheating, moves on from him, and the best way to get over your ex is to get under the next, which is what she does on this track. This song is probably the best that Leschea has sounded vocally on the album. The concept’s not original, but it works, thanks largely to the Megahertz/G.M. produced instrumental, built around a dope Jones Girls loop (their name surfaces again…I’ve really gotta dig into their catalog).

All This Love – I don’t know if Leschea meant them to be, but this track and the previous four tracks tie together in a nice little story line: She falls for a street hustler on “Fulton St.” (he’s gotta be a hustler if he’s constantly crusin’ up and down the same street in his jeep everyday) and struggles with his lifestyle and occupation on “Let Me Know.” He gets caught and locked up on “3 To 5,” and when he finally gets out, he cheats on her, she leaves him, and finds a new man on “All On You.” And finally, she dedicates this hip-hop ballad to her newfound love, whom she eagerly awaits to blow her back out. Ace (the producer of this track and the album’s EP) is a master (no pun) of conceptual albums, so maybe this five-song string was an orchestrated suite and not happenstance. The track is followed by another skit that fails to bring any comic relief.

High Velocity – Earlier in this review, I said some loops aren’t meant to be recycled. But there are some dope ones that I don’t mind hearing used again. Like the Busy Bee “Chief Rocker” loop that Ace reuses for this track. Leschea’s lyrics were forgettable, but the catchy hook and dope beat make this record entertaining.

Hip Hop – Lord Finesse gets his sole production credit of the night, and it’s a thing of beauty. He slides Leschea a smooth melodic groove that she uses to harmonize about not only loving hip-hop, but also living this subculture. Some of the lyrics get weird, but Finesse’s instrumental is so soothingly amazing, it blots out all her minor lyrical transgressions.

Schea’s World – Schea closes R&B by singing about her wish to teleport to a fictional world where there is no crime, race doesn’t exist, jealousy is not allowed, it’s an ill yet serene atmosphere, and…little kids can trade in candy for loaded nines? Her words, not mine. Oh. And according to the hook, she wants to exist in this dream world by herself, which, if she did, would take care of the crime, racism, jealousy, and kids trading in a bag of Skittles for loaded nines (I sure hope that candy/gun line was a mistake). The King of Chill uses the same Heath Brothers sample that Q-Tip used for Nas’ stellar single, “One Love.” The loop has been used a few times since “One Love” (see Redman’s “Soopaman Luva 3,” and the Bud’da-produced track, “Do 4 Love” from Dr. Dre’s Aftermath compilation project), but like Patrice Rushen’s “There Is Love,” it should have been hung in the hip-hop sample rafters after its original usage.

On “Give Me Bass,” Leschea sings, “You can have the best vocals around, but it don’t mean a thing if your beats are wack.” Well, that theory also works vice versa.

Leschea only made a few appearances on Masta Ace Incorporated’s two group projects, with her main contributions coming on Slaughtahouse’s “Don’t Fuck Around” and “Turn It Up” from Sittin’ On Chrome. Other than the end of the latter record when she attempts to hit a big note before reeling it back in when her voice begins to get shaky, she always played it safe, staying in a limited vocal lane. On Rhythm & Beats, Leschea takes center stage, and all her vocal flaws get exposed.

Leschea doesn’t have a big voice or a wide vocal range, which becomes blatantly obvious early on Rhythm. A few times on the album, she ventures outside of her safe space, and to describe those moments as cringeworthy would be an understatement (prime example: “Let Me Know”). Even when she stays in her vocal safe zone, the lyrics sound corny, half-baked, or like she’s coming off the top of the dome. Her feeble songwriting paired with her lack of charm left me yearning to hear Ace, Paula Perry, and Lord Digga provide her with more moral support.

There is flagrant recycling of several already proven winning samples on R&B, which detracts from the album’s musical integrity, even if still sonically sound. The formulaic beats are mixed in amongst some original bangers, making for a solid production bed overall. So at least the music will entertain when Leschea fails to.

I remember the first time I heard Mary J Blige’s voice soulfully belting the hook on Father M.C.’s “I’ll Do 4 U.” It wasn’t the strongest vocal I’d ever heard, but it was heartfelt and had a rough, warm quality that captivated. So much so, in time, she’d be crowned the Queen of Hip-Hop Soul. I blame MJB for making it look so easy to sing with swag over hip-hop beats. Leschea’s performance on R&B is proof that it’s not.

-Deedub
Follow me on Instagram @damontimeisillmatic