Albums worth a shelf #4
While it may have been It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back which broke Public Enemy firmly into the consensus of late-80s hip hop, they're at their most political, scariest, grooviest and all-around best in Fear of a Black Planet, a record which, although pressed 20 years ago to (almost) the day, still sounds miles ahead of anything in sight.
Using beats heavy enough and horn-section samples blazingly funky enough, to melt entire neighborhoods from the second you press (or click) play, Public Enemy has a message and it isn't hiding it, but instead launching it via your local system like an angry cruise missile through the jack hammer flow of one rap's most charismatic, angriest and most talented poet/MC's.
Public Enemy are going to tell you all about it. About a racist media and entertainment industry, in songs like "Burn Hollywood Burn," and Terminator X's instrumental "Leave this off Your Fuckin' Charts"; about racist police in the Flavor Flav classic "911 is a joke"; about the everyday confusion and insanity of black life in "Pollywanacraka," and the semi-hilarious Flavor Flav-driven "Can't Do Nuttin' For Ya Man"; or just pure frustration as in "Power to the People" as well as in the group's most well-known track – "Fight the Power."
However, as masterful as those songs are, Public Enemy is here at its best when its musical message is as clear as its politics. Songs like "Welcome to the Terrordome," "B Side Wins Again," "Brothers Gonna Work it Out" have such a kinetic force to them, with the Bomb Squad's Phil Spector-like wall of samples, melting music and message into what sometimes feels like solid-matter resistence.
The insanity that is the Bomb Squad's production, however, doesn't only, as with everything Public Enemy, to sound good, or make you move. It makes you think. While jamming to this, you get the distinct feeling that any artist sampled by PE is proud to be included in the mix.
While it may have been It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back which broke Public Enemy firmly into the consensus of late-80s hip hop, they're at their most political, scariest, grooviest and all-around best in Fear of a Black Planet, a record which, although pressed 20 years ago to (almost) the day, still sounds miles ahead of anything in sight.
Using beats heavy enough and horn-section samples blazingly funky enough, to melt entire neighborhoods from the second you press (or click) play, Public Enemy has a message and it isn't hiding it, but instead launching it via your local system like an angry cruise missile through the jack hammer flow of one rap's most charismatic, angriest and most talented poet/MC's.
Public Enemy are going to tell you all about it. About a racist media and entertainment industry, in songs like "Burn Hollywood Burn," and Terminator X's instrumental "Leave this off Your Fuckin' Charts"; about racist police in the Flavor Flav classic "911 is a joke"; about the everyday confusion and insanity of black life in "Pollywanacraka," and the semi-hilarious Flavor Flav-driven "Can't Do Nuttin' For Ya Man"; or just pure frustration as in "Power to the People" as well as in the group's most well-known track – "Fight the Power."
However, as masterful as those songs are, Public Enemy is here at its best when its musical message is as clear as its politics. Songs like "Welcome to the Terrordome," "B Side Wins Again," "Brothers Gonna Work it Out" have such a kinetic force to them, with the Bomb Squad's Phil Spector-like wall of samples, melting music and message into what sometimes feels like solid-matter resistence.
The insanity that is the Bomb Squad's production, however, doesn't only, as with everything Public Enemy, to sound good, or make you move. It makes you think. While jamming to this, you get the distinct feeling that any artist sampled by PE is proud to be included in the mix.
Pharoahe Monch's updated cover for the 2000s:
Not only using the music to patch together a track to accompany Chuck D's fire, it feels as though the Bomb Squad are able to make James Brown, Isaac Hays, Sly and the Family Stone, and Parliament, all making music seemingly un-political and groovy, into a political, groove-heavy and frustrated mob.
It's almost as if all those artists knew they would some day end on this record, and that, in some strange way, Chuck D fighting the fight with them, as opposed to just using their music to enhance his words. It's all part of one steamroller headed to change anything you think you know either about music or the world you live in. Astounding.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment