Don’t Front, The ‘90s Got You Open:

AKA Hip Hop Will Always Be All That

and Then Some

Janelle Poe

As far as the not-so-united-states-of-America is concerned, the ‘90s might be a decade marked by Bill Clinton, terrorism and war in the Middle East; spectacles like the OJ Simpson or Menendez Brothers’ trials, media sensations like Clueless or Seinfeld, or perhaps the dawn of the internet.^[1] Maybe it was the height of the crack-cocaine or AIDS epidemic, anti-Black violence and the Rodney King beating, Amadou Diallo murder, or the Central Park 5 trial and false conviction. But if the analysis doesn’t mention Hip Hop then you should know something grand is amiss. As Dres said while playfully dissin’ ladies in the club who don’t look so cute when the party’s over and the lights come on in their 1991 classic, “Something ain’t right… it’s the obelite.”^[2] The phrase, delivery, and imagery still apply to the American mythos and beguiling illuminations that dare to minimize such an enormous cultural, political and economic movement as Hip Hop, especially in its heyday of the 1990s. Or as Public Enemy said in a loosely related precursor track, “She Watch Channel Zero?!” released on It Takes A Nation of Millions To Hold Us Back in 1988, “You blind baby, blind from the facts.”^[3] Hip hop heads know, before we thought of reaching for a meme or an app, there’s lyrics and a track for that.

Public Enemy is one of the most poignant, political and influential of Hip Hop’s creators, and this song is a prime example of the music’s power, complexity, and multiplicity. This includes the genre’s pervasive and often toxic masculinity as it drops jewels at the expense of a stereotypical, gold diggin’, hoodrat single mother from an unspecified but recognizable low-income neighborhood -- one who wastes her time watching TV and chasing capitalist fantasies. A hard core rap song that features their group’s signature upbeat blend of heavy metal guitar riffs, funky drum beats, layered multimedia samples, street sounds, and DJ scratches on vinyl, this was a side B (Side Black) album track never released as a single but definitely heard as part of their most critically acclaimed album. It was a record intended to propel their political messages even further than their first project, according to their official biographer Russell Myrie: “With their second album, PE consistently achieved the perfection they’d been striving for since the release of Yo! Bum Rush the Show[,]” and “Nation of Millions changed hip-hop forever. It made hip hop synonymous with black consciousness and forced the culture to grow up… The crew very specifically set out to make a hip-hop version of Marvin Gaye’s seminal What’s Goin’ On [1971].”^[4] Despite Chuck D’s initial hesitancy to pursue rapping as a career and several members of the collective’s goal to have syndicated radio broadcasts, the success of their first album and overseas tours, combined with the creative freedom on their productions and label that enabled PE to foreground their Black Power politics and collectivity placed the group at the vanguard of Hip Hop’s new age and direction heading into the last decade of the twentieth-century.^[5]

Beyond concept and content, this album was also groundbreaking in its recording style and use of interludes to maintain flow. Chuck D, the group’s lead MC said, “‘We made [Nation of Millions] like it was just for cassettes… We wanted to have an album that was equal on the first and second side… There would be no dead time. We worked really hard to equal those sides, through the interludes and also the timing of different songs. Because of the interludes the album was also the first rap record that didn’t go cut to cut -- it had stuff in between to make it all stick together like glue.’”^[6] This aural depth and continuity was a result of the diverse musical inputs and experience from their crew, particularly the DJs. As Myrie notes, “This was something that Keith Shocklee had been doing for years on his mixtapes. ‘It was something that we always did,’ [Shocklee] says, ‘We just got to do it on a record… When I used to DJ I was playing little short snatches of records and before anyone knew what it was it was off, and I was off to the next.’”^[7] The album’s visionary approach had a massive influence on ‘90s hip hop production and lyricism, amplifying the crew’s multifaceted talents and awesomely disruptive stage presence developed during early tours with Def Jam artists LL Cool J, Eric B. & Rakim and the Beastie Boys.^[8] Myrie highlights the sonic inheritance and shaping through Hip Hop’s burgeoning:

Just as hip-hop production developed more rapidly during the mid eighties, so did the vocal styles. At the close of the decade Ice Cube would comment to Chuck on how he was influenced by Chuck when it came to that particular cadence and flow. Chuck responded by saying he got it from Schoolly D and Mr. Magic. When it was brought to Schoolly D’s attention he admitted he was influenced by Melle Mel.^[9]

PE took their collective and individual roles seriously, using Hip Hop as their weapon of choice to wake-up Black, white, and all audiences to a new level of social and political consciousness.

Widely recognized as exceptional and revolutionary at the time of release, Nation of Millions remains one of the most celebrated and influential Hip Hop albums of all time by major media outlets, awarding institutions and hip hop heads alike. Rock & Roll Hall of Fame inductees in 2013^[10], Alan Light declares:

[Nation of Millions] is, quite simply, the finest hip-hop album ever made. Flavor’s solo spot “Cold-Lampin’ with Flavor,” is a hilariously surrealist throwdown, and the jailbreak fantasy, “Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos” offers some of the strongest writing to be found in all of pop music; the Village Voice’s Greg Tate called Chuck “as formidable a poetic mind as African American literary tradition has ever produced.” Around the time of the album’s release, Chuck made the oft-quoted statement that rap had become the “CNN of Black America.”^[11]

Light praises PE highly but also discusses their dramas. Ongoing clashes with the media only worsened after Professor Griff, the group’s Minister of Information, reportedly made an anti-Semitic comment while discussing Palestinian occupation in 1989, leading to major attacks on PE, tension within the group and at their label, Griff’s departure, and potentially, PE’s decline.^[12] Still, Light ensures the group’s impact is contextualized and recognized, concluding:

Chuck D once claimed that his goal for Public Enemy was to create five thousand new leaders for the [B]lack community… And if, inevitably, the limitless promise of Public Enemy wasn’t totally fulfilled, that’s partially our fault as well. “Rap is an introduction,” Chuck said way back in 1991. “If people really want to learn something, they got to pick up some books. People might look at me because I’m giving them a first dose, but I’m not a doctor. I’m just a TV station.”^[13]

Without understanding the group’s origins, community roles and weight, it’s easy to get caught up in the controversy and not in how unique and essential PE was and will always be to Hip Hop, American and world music.

PE’s initial goals were to build a strong and positive squad of hip hop artists who could rep “Strong Island” properly, provide platforms for the region’s talent to shine, and shift the narratives on Black lives and possibilities.^[14] PE emerged from Long Island, born through the Shocklee brothers’ (Hank and Keith) and Griffin’s successful Spectrum City mobile DJ crew, radio shows on Adelphi University’s WBAU radio station, long-standing friendships, and even rediscovered blood family ties through a grandmother recognizing their Afro-Caribbean, diasporic roots.^[15]

Chuck joined the [DJ] crew in 1979 after enrolling in Garden City’s Adelphi University (he studied graphic design, graduating in 1984). “I rapped back in 1978 and ‘79, and I was vicious,” Chuck brags. “I had a Satchel Paige story by the time I got to records… the strongest voice of anybody around me and that was key, because most sound systems were cheap. You had to cut across a cheap system. Guys like DJ Hollywood and Melle Mel had no problem with something like that.”^[16]

During the earliest PE days, they held auditions for several potential groups they envisioned, including one named “Leaders of The New School” which helped unite budding dancer emcees Trevor Smith (Busta Rhymes) and Charlie Brown.^[17]

An expansive collective that included the S1Ws, formerly the fifty member Unity Force policing neighborhoods and the police under Professor Griffin, and The 98 Posse as security^[18]; Brother Drew, who “evolved from an S1W into PE’s soundman”^[19]; Harry Allen, “a journalist, photographer and broadcaster[,]” as well as “Hip Hop Activist and Media Assassin”^[20]; and Bill Stephney, host of the Mr Bill Show and “programme director” at WBAU where “‘we were playing rap literally before anyone was playing rap’” who quickly “graduated from working in promotions to become vice-president at Def Jam” where he helped sign Chuck and PE, who also had SOUL Records with Hank Shocklee.^[21] Plus there’s DJ Mellow D aka Terminator X (Norman Rogers) and DJ Johnnie Juice, the dominant scratchers; and Eric Sadler, a musician and member of the Bomb Squad production team behind PE’s sound.^[22] PE also contracted over the years so early former members like Juice most likely contributed far more than appears.

Writing credits on “Channel Zero” include Chuck D (Carlton Douglas Ridenhour), Eric “Vietnam” Sadler, Hank Shocklee, Richard “Professor Griff” Griffin, and the unmistakable voice of Flavor Flav (William Drayton), while executive production credits Rick Rubin. Rubin, the renowned producer and co-founder of Def Jam records with Russell Simmons, was working with the rock group Slayer and gave PE one of their tracks, which became the beat for “She Watch Channel Zero.”^[23] A complementary vocalist balancing the “bass” and “treble” in each other’s voices, Flavor Flav also represents the average, round-the-way consensus and trickster archetype as a counterpoint to Chuck’s serious and piercing lyrical agenda.^[24] As Chuck D describes, “‘Flav was greatest of all time on the air… The Uncle Floyd of hip-hop radio! Flav’s early ad-libs would come from him mimicking this guy who lived around his way named Youngster or something like that. It was a weird thing, but I think the better he mimicked that guy, the more he found an identity for himself.”^[25] While Flav was boisterous, viewed by many outsiders (and insiders) as an unnecessary distraction and liability, their pairing was intentional and the two had powerful chemistry developed over the years at WBAU where Flav’s show opened for Spectrum City’s weekly show, in the studio, on tour, and even as co-workers in Chuck’s father’s furniture-moving business.^[26] A mostly self-taught multi-instrumentalist, keeping Flav in the group was one of their best moves. “Flav himself never suffered from these misgivings and was rightly confident from the jump. ‘They were getting ready to make a big mistake,’ [Flav] states on the subject. ‘But I did end up getting signed, and I became one of their biggest voices, their biggest entities. I became their most sampled voice.’”^[27] An equal and distinct griot, Flav was right and “She Watch Channel Zero?!” is living proof.^[28]

Chuck D raps, “Her brains retrained by a 24 inch remote / Revolution a solution for all of our children / But her children don’t mean as much as the show, I mean / Watch her worship the screen and fiend / For a TV ad / and it just makes me mad.” Unable to realize the dehumanizing, distracting illusion, she disregards duties to herself, family and community. Flavor Flav says, “Back up from the TV / Read a book about something[,]” and demands her deference because, “Yo, I got the Tyson fight on now, you know what I’m sayin? / Yo, so you can’t be comin’ in here stag[a]nating like that, you know what I’m sayin’?” He even implicates the larger Black [read male] community adding, “Yo, we gettin’ ready to watch the Super Bowl / We got a black quarterback so step back.” Watching sports is quite alright, positioned as intellectual fuel and culturally essential to Black folks according to the lyrical analogies. Problematic and questionable to say the least. Chuck acknowledges:

“People said that it was an anti-female song, but my answer to that is that you’re not looking at the self-criticism in other songs on the album. We attacked everything. I didn’t think it was misogynist. I said, ‘Hey, f[***] those soap operas.’ And I say it to this day. Jerry Springer and all of that. I’d say the same to a guy if he’s just sittin’ in front of the football game with a beer, talkin’ sh[*]t. I mean you couldn’t say ‘He/She Watch Channel Zero.’ You make a song and you make a statement.”^[29]

But couldn’t you, Chuck, Flav et. al? Flav’s “man” is literally watchin’ football and he’s probably drinking something alcoholic. As Hip Hop rebels, why not break all the rules? Separate verses could easily have been added to focus on men; the pronoun “they” could have been used or no pronouns at all in the hook or title. (You blind baby, blind from the facts!)^[30] However, these few words also showcase some of Hip Hop’s greatest gifts in the lyrical dexterity and persistence of memory which demonstrate the veracity and relevancy, echoing and reverberating between the creator(s) and hearer(s), years on down the line.

While the phrase has been clipped, the song’s intro and repeated closing hook repeat, “You’re blind baby / Blind from the facts of who you are / Cuz you’re watchin’ that garbage.”^[31] The most crucial soundbytes are not the song’s chorus and hook, which repeat “She watch” ad nauseum but instead, “You blind baby, blind from the facts.” That old school adage can and does apply across gender and all types of identity, especially now in a hyper-digital environment where the masses are directly linked to screens and their own personally curated, albeit algorithmically-assisted and commercially-driven, version of soaps and content that allows them to scope, display and envision themselves as the stars of, or at least active participants in, any number of shows and stories.

Now, thirty years later, we can use the song to have a conversation about how many Black men have been bamboozled by the NFL’s glitz and glam as fans and athletes; the latter who have it much worse than any daytime soap opera star given the brief length of their careers and health outcomes that include debilitating, permanent injuries that can lead to addiction and fatalities as in the case of chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE).^[32] Or we use the song to think about how college athletes aspiring to get drafted are often caught in their own industrial complex where they receive scholarships to attend school, but little time to study and even fewer chances of a professional career in their sport. Or we can use it to consider how, thirty years later, there’s still hardly any Black head coaches, quarterbacks or team owners in the NFL. Or how the stadium construction, zoning, and contracting processes are the expertly strategized and executed touchdown plays for #teamgentrification that inevitably wreaks further economic and environmental havoc on historically neglected and impoverished urban communities while promising thousands of jobs and millions of dollars worth of opportunities.

Now, we can discuss how tired and unfair the class and gender violence directed towards Black women like the ones in that song are forms of intra and intercultural warfare, as well as misogynoir that destroy and capitalize upon a false and hyperbolic trope, instead of empower and encourage Black women and men to heal by and while seeing themselves in each other’s eyes, rather than in and through a screen as pixelated, digitally manufactured reflections.^[33] We can also talk about how the phrase disrupts limited notions of vision impairment and disability as far beyond the physical. And we can discuss how easily the phrase can and should be used with such widespread disregard for data, historical realities, and willful ignorance in what has openly been called a “post-truth society” after the Trump presidency.^[34] For the record, neither the Trump or Nixon presidency were the A.D. or C.E. of governmental truth-telling and transparency for many Black and historically oppressed folx. I digress, but I’m just sayin…

So, the phrase is connected to a specific time, place, people, sound and style, but to so much and many more. Hip Hop heads will immediately recognize it and know the bass with which it should be rendered, the proper enunciation emphasis for the context in which it is employed and recalled. We might hear the original song, and/or envision the video in our heads if there was one, or remember a particular moment when we experienced the song in our space-time(s). Maybe we hear the voices of other people, perhaps a friend or family member who couldn’t stop using the phrase as a diss/punchline back in the day, or still does. Perhaps another artist or song that used the lyrics as a sample?

It took me a minute to remember that Heavy D flipped the phrase as the echoed punchline for the hook on “You Can’t See What I Can See” with Flavor Flav and an early Sean “Puff Daddy/PDiddy/LOVE” Combs as producer into a track with the classic boom bap rap sound that gives props to himself as “the big belly man,” the first notoriously “overweight lover” emcee as Heavy D (Dwight Arrington Myers) so affectionately and proudly referred to himself.^[35] In fact, this later recording was my first and primary encounter with the phrase, since I was living abroad when Nation of Millions dropped and the track wasn’t commercially released as a single. The newer song maintains the signifyin’ ethos inherently embedded in the art of emceeing, hyping up Heav’s powers of attraction, dominance in and out of the bedroom and on the mic, clapping back against the negativity associated with his size and looks. Heavy D was a towering light-skinned giant with corrective prescription glasses back in the days of the usually bald and often not-as-tall-as-they-look-on screen, but definitely dark and handsome Black male athlete aesthetic exhibited by the likes of Michael Jordan, Shaquille O’Neal, Tupac Shakur, Omar Epps, Wesley Snipes, Morris Chestnut, Taye Diggs, Djimon Honsou, Tyson Beckford, and Tyrese Gibson.

Decades ago, Heav embraced body positivity and in this case, the phrase is used to bolster his identity, self-perception and intellect across genders, rather than berate and directly address a specific ‘type’ of woman. Still, equally apropos of the time as the dancehall tinged horns ringing throughout the track and high energy tempo, he critiques female sexual promiscuity by calling out “a stunt on the couch with a blunt in her mouth” even while he makes several innuendos about his own aggressive sexual behavior and warns, “Hun had fun, she was done reading Moby Dick / Me and my crew played a game called Flipper / When we come around / You better tighten up your zipper / I’ll rip shreds in bed, Jack the Ripper.”^[36] Providing larger societal critique, though he confirms his addiction to sugary sweetness in a variety of forms, Heav disavows hard drugs saying, “Yes, I drink Coke but I’m not a coke sniffer” and “I’m really sick and tired of the isms skizzims” dividing people, destroying communities and Black-on-Black violence since ultimately, “I’m not pressed, I’m on a Peaceful Journey.”^[37]

Again, the song is complicated in its range of ideas and imagery, especially as it arguably objectifies and disrespects certain women (therefore all). Yet the song ends with uplifting aims and acknowledgement of the “Nubian sisters who be in / Twists and turns and Uptown doobiens” while also shouting out Rakim, another legendary MC through the phrase, “Follow the leader.”^[38] The track’s overarching theme is one of self-love and respect that empowers people to recognize and appreciate their own abilities to view and interpret the world, living their unique expression and being brave enough to continue to do so while overstanding that others might disagree or try to diminish them. Flavor Flav revisits the unmistakable original vocal sample and is featured prominently throughout the music video in a presumably uptown train yard where Heavy D and the Boyz shine a light on themselves and the mostly female dancers breaking it down in the grim darkness of a city nightscape, a visual metaphor for mental confusion and lack of clarity about the truth of one’s own being and light, or knowledge and power, in the contemporary urban North American environment.^[39]

Perhaps more recently, the phrase might be heard coming from a politician, newscaster or media personality who loves to drop Hip Hop lyrics in their rhetoric. Or in a commercial, since ‘90s Hip Hop is resurgent as major manufacturers rebrand their products with the lyrics (and vice versa), tapping into the nostalgia for the fun and fancy-free days of other ‘90s classics like DJ Jazzy Jeff and The Fresh Prince’s “Summertime”^[40] (1991), a long time industry favorite; Sir Mix-A-Lot’s “Baby Got Back” (1992) ^[41]; or Young MC’s “Busta Move” (1989),^[42] among many, many others. Lately, eBay Motors used Underground Kingz (UGK) featuring Outkast’s classic “Int'l Players Anthem (I Choose You)”^[43] (2007) and Amazon’s “Rufus Rips” Christmas advertisement starring a snowboarding canine used “Saturday (Oooh! Oooh!)” (2001) by Ludacris featuring Sleepy Brown. ^[44] A prime example of Hip Hop sampling itself, in another ad targeting male grooming, “[t]he song featured in the new Amazon ‘polar plunge’ commercial released October, 2023 is O[o]h LA LA by Run The Jewels.”^[45] I instantly recognized the Greg Nice vocals off of one of my all time favorite tracks “DWYCK,” a 1994 DJ Premier produced banger for Gang Starr with GURU (Rest in Peace) featuring Nice and Smooth.^[46] Little did I know this sampled verse came from a new song, released in 2020 by the group composed of well-known rappers El-P and Killer Mike.

Hip Hop keeps you diggin’, the kind of close listening, deep integration and researching that Todd Craig centers in his monograph on Hip Hop DJs as scholars and new media writers:

I realized then that part of being successful with DJing is studying music: analyzing different sounds and parts of records, songs, and albums -- and the art of creating new music within the parameters of the songs you’ve been given. This had been the work of Hip Hop DJs and producers, the essence and root of the “makin’ something outta nuffin” philosophy. And at one point, this was also a core debate of the culture: were producers “loopin” or (re)creating, merely sampling toward what academics would call “collage” or “pastiche”(Miller; Rice, “The 1963 Hip-Hop Machine”) or were they configuring toward new sonic landscapes that required the supreme science of destroying and deconstructing to build in infinite synced (re)configurations?^[47]

Producers, DJs, listeners and dancers alike are always being challenged by their knowledge of and love for the genre. It’s a nostalgia that refuses to remain static, even as we hold plenty of space in our heads, hearts, souls and soles for the jams and lyrics we love.

Hip Hop has high social currency having remained a dominant and extremely profitable musical genre since the ‘90s and initial release of these songs, despite numerous attempts to censor and suppress the genre. Specific artists like Luke “Uncle Luke” Campbell, NWA, Tupac “2Pac” Shakur, Snoop Dogg, and many others were legally targeted for profanity, explicit sexual and violent content. And don’t get it twisted. Complaints crossed racial and gender lines as many prominent Black leaders and politicians also spoke out against the genre, a trend that continues today with the controversy over drill music’s influence on youth.^[48] So it’s ironic to see the usage and partnerships continue to increase, since so many brands rejected Hip Hop back in the day and never considered rap mainstream or attractive enough for their ‘target’ markets.

However, in the same way that fashion works and generational power shifts in and across industries, the kids who grew up on ‘90s music are now in their 30s, 40s, and 50s, in position to make many of those final big decisions about advertising spokespeople, soundtracks and jingles. How can you blame them? Hip Hop’s lyrical structure, telos, and energy is a natural and perfect match for marketing aims -- look at me, listen up, spread the word! Anyone remember the McDonald’s rap? Many Generation X and Y folx certainly do. And even though Hip Hop might have seemed underground or not their number one music choice, the culture’s impact was global, undeniable, and at this point, is an irresistible trove. For those who love(d) the music, it’s been instrumental in shaping our lives and we look for ways to amplify and celebrate Hip Hop, wherever we are. Cue the nostalgia that serves to carry culture on.

Some folx may have never heard the original Public Enemy song, Heavy D version, or others that sample the track, but have heard, “You blind baby. Blind to the facts.”^[49] If not, once heard, understood and never forgotten. The phrase’s options and portability abound. And when one considers the transitional importance of these lyrics and tracks that predate an even more memorable and far more legendary PE song, “Fight The Power,” used in Spike Lee’s award-winning, iconic film Do The Right Thing (1989) and on their own breathtaking, ground-shaking masterpiece Fear of A Black Planet (1990), the contours, confines, and connections of Hip Hop become even more clear.^[50] And this is just one song, and one group.

Poetically, with griotic and bardic roots, Hip Hop is about playing with language and emotions while telling a or one’s story, re/defining and describing terms, shining light on one’s self, community, new and/or old ideas, and solving problems. There’s intellect, bravado/a, pathos that can be rendered with plenty of humor, sass, sorrow, or wisdom channeled through the uniqueness of individual delivery also shaped by love, intention, regional affiliations, stylistic leanings, and the potent, kinetic energy born of this craft of writing to, with, and riding on a beat. Hip Hop is the art of innovative persuasion–rhetoric at its finest because it shifts with and shifts the conditions, and makes your body move, too. The head nod is because the bars are hard as the beats. One has to work avidly, read and listen closely to keep up with the content, structure, wordplay, tone, tempo, dialects, slang, and oh so many citations. This also applies to the art of sampling which plays a key role in the revisionary process of Hip Hop musicianship.

A remix of nostalgia itself, producers and DJs are cratediggers, pulling across genres from previously recorded music, inserting bits and pieces (often from the most unexpected places) and reworking them into entirely new tracks where the samples are unrecognizable, or sometimes intentionally used to pay tribute to and update an old familiar. A form of time travel, dimensional and sensorial gaps shrink as new relationships with memory and space are created. Hip hop is always fresh with the lyrics, energy and fly ways that language, music, movement and fashion can be flipped, clipped, looped and expanded upon. In other words, “There’s just one thing I wanna say… What Goes Around Comes Back Around Again,” as Grand Puba (Maxwell Dixon of Brand Nubian and Masters of Ceremony) so perfectly remixed the female lead vocal samples from Otis Redding and Carla Thomas’ “Tramp” (1967) and Gladys Knight’s “Don’t Burn Down the Bridge” (1974) in his 1992 jam “360° (What Goes Around).”^[51]

Born in the early ‘70s, Hip Hop’s official emergence dates back to August 11, 1973 and the infamous Back to School Jam Kool Herc and his sister, Cindy Campbell, held for her birthday at 1520 Sedgwick Avenue in the Bronx. Marked as the first official instantiation of a DJ using two turntables and a mixer to switch between, loop and scratch records at a party, the foundations of Hip Hop are communal and joyous, innovative and enterprising -- music, movement, mastery and memory.^[52] However, Hip Hop was simultaneously emerging in myriad spaces throughout the city, including other key elements of the genre such as breakdancing, fashion, graffiti and visual arts. As O.G. “Hip Hop Pioneer” and visual artist Fab 5 Freddy notes, “the mobile DJ scene” and disco DJs playing outside in the parks had a major influence on the cultural origins of Hip Hop parties, dancing, records, and MCs.^[53] Without the Caribbean influence of the sound system and diasporic D.I.Y. audio engineering, the technological and sonic possibilities might have remained stifled. The lyrical roots stretch much further back through the toasting of dancehall and reggae; the ad-libs and improvisation of funk, soul, jazz and the blues; the call-and-response patterns, coded language and liberational poetics of spoken word, negro spirituals and ring shouts; West African linguistics and tonalities. The beats and samples incorporate heavy Afro-Caribbean drum patterns and vocalization, with beatboxing (humans intonating drum patterns) becoming a significant element of Hip Hop and amplifying, if not totally replacing in some instances, one of the foundational sacred indigenous instruments.

Hip Hop emerged in a context of deep resistance and inventiveness to urban oppression and neglect. After decades of redlining and underfunded schools, centuries of racial violence, exploitation, and ongoing exclusion from economic opportunity and mobility. Sampling records and beatboxing mitigated the lack of music programs in public schools, access to instruments, production and recording equipment, or studio space. Breakdancing developed similarly in the parks and outside of traditional dance studios and classes. Rich Nice, a multi-instrumentalist, Hip Hop educator, A&R legend, and the first emcee signed to Motown Records, reminds us Hip Hop was rebellious and self-empowering, happening outside of the clubs where many uptown and outer-borough folks couldn’t afford to attend or worse, weren’t welcome.^[54] Hip Hop is a movement that inherently resists limitations and can’t simply be framed in deficiency. In his seminal text on sampling Joe Schloss contends, “I argue that sampling, rather than being the result of musical deprivation, is an aesthetic choice consistent with the history and values of the hip-hop community” and “[i]n addition to providing useful musical material, the practice also functions as a way of manifesting ties to hip-hop deejaying traditions, ‘paying dues,’ and educating producers about various forms of music, as a well as a form of socialization between producers.”^[55] Progeny of the Middle Passage, Great Migration and Circum-Caribbean.^[56] pathways, these Black and Brown artists, including dancers, graffiti makers, fashion designers and stylists, remixed and re-visioned the sights and sounds around them to carry on ancient traditions and rhythms in new, transformative ways that emerged from a sense of pride, self and communal love, indomitable spirits and truly creative, funky souls.

Born a half decade behind and the eldest of two, Hip Hop was the older brother I always wanted. H.E. schooled and looked out for me without a doubt, but not at first.^[57] Without older cousins or aunties and uncles close enough in age to put my younger brother and I on, we missed out on a lot of the early days of rap in the ‘70s and early ‘80s. Though my parents are both from the city (NYC), and they definitely grooved to funk, disco, Motown, R&B, and loved to dance, only my father was into Hip Hop. He loved Run-DMC, Kool Moe Dee, and of course the Sugarhill Gang, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Melle Mel and the Force MDs, Whodini and Stetsasonic. We moved to California in the early ‘80s and he used to take us on long Saturday drives to give our mom a break, blasting Hip Hop louder than we ever imagined the speakers could blow in his fancy new sports car, just a few years out the hood. We loved Run-DMC, especially “It’s Like That” and their third album Raising Hell (1986).^[58] “Peter Piper” was an immediate favorite as a kid, hearing how they flipped fables and nursery rhymes.^[59]

We watched Soul Train together, loving all the moves and energy.^[60] Breakin’ was part of the mix and even though some of the show’s dancers were experts and pioneers, most of the innovation happened outside of the television studio, far from where we lived. Soul Train was part of the way I learned to move in concert with family and friends, frequently dancing together at intergenerational house parties, but not what I was learning during those few years of ballet, tap, and jazz dance classes. Plus the Jacksons -- Michael and Janet -- were dominating MTV and they weren’t exactly or exclusively doing back spins or poppin’ and lockin’, but their own thing. Like all of our Black family friends, we wanted to moonwalk and imitated Michael, not knowing just how closely moonwalking was linked with breakdancing, tap, or jazz. Cable television and channels like MTV were basically brand new and BET wasn’t on our cable network. Living in suburban Southern California, we were also missing the block parties and inner city streets where cars and pedestrians blasted this music and folx would be gettin’ down.

My dad had a decent sized record collection that we weren’t allowed to touch.^[61] Music was almost always playing in our house or in the car, and we loved it! Unless we were watching TV or movies, but even then, this was an era when music and the moving image were highly intertwined. The early to mid ‘80s were perfect for kids who love cartoons, sitcoms focused on young people and their families, and movies about space and mystical adventures. Our generation was blessed to inherit many of the beatniks and hippies of the ‘50s and ‘60s as creatives who injected plenty of flower-power unity, celebrations of uniqueness and heroism into our media programming. With the iconic success of Michael Jackson’s Thriller music video (dir. John Landis) in 1983, a mini-horror film with a 14-minute runtime and $500,000 budget unheard of for the time, the entanglement between the mediums of recorded music, film narrative, moving image, dance performance, fashion and visual arts would become paramount for artists and their labels.^[62]

Just after Los Angeles hosted the Olympics, we moved overseas and didn’t return till late ‘89. Back in the northeast, but still an hour outside of the city, we lived in a predominantly white area that was obsessed with hair rock and metal bands like Guns N’ Roses, Def Leppard, and White Lion. BET wasn’t offered on our cable network there either, or during the next six years we lived in Jersey. While the station was available in more urban environments with higher Black populations, it was a subtle form of refusal, far less concerned with offending us than preventing white teenagers and kids from exposure to such Blackness. We didn’t get the channel where you could call in and request videos either. We could only watch that when we went to the city to see our grandparents. Back then, Hot 97, 97.1 on the FM dial and the now infamous “Home of Hip Hop and R&B,” was a rock and pop station that also played freestyle music, but no Hip Hop. Still, having just returned from a foreign country with only four national television stations and no cable, we were thrilled to have real TV again.^[63]

My brother and I spent a lot of time watching and listening, trying to catch up on all that we had missed, especially music and TV. Sixth and fourth graders with British accents who’d worn uniforms for almost three years, we’d been listening to our parents’ US exports like Motown, Force MDs, Anita Baker and Luther Vandross, along with major crossovers like Michael, Madonna, Whitney, Janet, and Sade. British acts like 5 Star, Bros, and Rick Astley were high on my personal list of discoveries, and the whole family had gotten into Terrence Trent D’Arby and Tracy Chapman across the pond. Readjusting to life in America, KRS and Positive Force’s “Self-Destruction” was one of our family’s favorite tracks to hear and videos to watch together because the community love and message was abundantly clear.^[64] Approaching the height of the crack and A.I.D.S. epidemics with crime, gun violence, Black death and incarceration rates rising horrifically, the country looked and felt very different. Secluded in the Jersey suburbs, H.E. showed us what life in the cities and across America was like, and what Black folx had to say about it. H.E. was the older half brother that went to stay with his other biological parent’s family while we were gone, but when we returned, he moved back in and made sure that we knew just how big and bad he had gotten, exactly what and whose time it was. For the record, H.E. was hype and had developed mad skills!^[65]

We had missed out on a great deal of Hip Hop’s rise, particularly West Coast rappers like NWA, Ice-T and E-40. We also missed what happened on the East Coast with the Roxanne Wars, early Boogie Down Productions, LL Cool J, Doug E. Fresh, Slick Rick, Juice Crew, Public Enemy and De La Soul. ^[66] But, thankfully, Hip Hop archives itself and if a track or artist is classic, undeniably good and/or a major hit, you will hear it again and again. Those artists were and are played on the radio, TV, and at parties, continuously discussed and cited widely as part of the canon. So while we missed the experience of buying and hearing the track or album for the first time as it was released or seeing and hearing folx reaction in the streets, moving back to New Jersey when and where we did, H.E. allowed us to be just in time to experience Hip Hop’s astronomical breadth. Or, as Keith Murray so brilliantly described the exquisite awesomeness of Hip Hop a few years later in ‘94, “The Most Beautifullest Thing In The World.”^[67]

While the song boasts about his own skills on cosmic levels, Murray’s doing language with such flair and care that this is a perfect example of Hip Hop’s innovation and boundary-pushing potentials in terms of style and poetics, the flow that he’s on. At the mid to high end of the emerging standard tempo range of 90s Hip Hop from 85-95 BPM(+/-5), Murray takes signifying and conversational style rapping to an entirely new level that clearly demonstrates the genre’s varied interests and sources, as well as power to coin and shift language with bars like, “Y’all mythological ni[**]as is comical / The astronomical is coming thru like the flu bombing you / And embalming your crew too / With the musical mystical magical, you know how I do / With word attack skills and vocabulary too (uh) / Come to hit you with this Edition, it’s all brand New (yeah) / You’re through, I’m interplanetarian like Doctor Who (uh, who? who?)”^[68] It is most beautifullest and on another level, he’s actually describing the genre and what was happening to him, using Hip Hop to explore, find, and define himself. And for those blessed enough to tap in, it was also happening to, with, and for us.

That year saw a breadth of important album releases from artists all over the country including: Frankie Cutlass, 5ive-O, DJ Krush, The U.M.C.’s, The Fugees, Nefertiti, MC Hammer, Gang Starr, Insane Clown Posse, Vanilla Ice, Main Source, The Roots, MOP, Mad Flava, DJ Kool, Nas, Shyheim, Outkast, Mad Lion, 8Ball & MJG, Ahmad, Heavy D & The Boyz, Jeru The Damaja, Master P, 69 Boyz, Warren G, Arrested Development, The Beatnuts, Bone-Thugs-n-Harmony, Terminator X, Nice & Smooth, Da Brat, House of Pain, Luke, Coolio, MC Eiht, Sir Mix-A-Lot, Ill Al Skratch, Gravediggaz, Boogiemonsters, Organized Confusion, UGK, The Notorious B.I.G., Craig Mack, Common Sense, Digable Planets, O.C., The Coup, Scarface, Artifacts, Fu-Schnikens, Brand Nubian, Da Lench Mob, Lords of The Underground, Dr. Dre & Ed Lover, Pete Rock & CL Smooth, Method Man, Ice Cube, Redman, Three 6 Mafia, Black Sheep and Blackalicious. Plus artists like Kool G Rap, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Biz Markie, Public Enemy, Kool Mo Dee, Slick Rick, Schoolly D, and The Beastie Boys also contributed as new O.G. (original gangsta/er or god) rappers alongside the next generation. Together, we entered a new dimension and witnessed not just stars, but galaxies being born.

The ‘90s was a game changer for this country, and Hip Hop helped cement the United States as a global leader on another level. While Hollywood films and sports like baseball and basketball (or Motown and Michael Jackson?) can arguably be read as having the greatest combined national and international cultural influence, it’s Hip Hop that truly changed the game and reached the farthest corners of the world. Across the globe, it has activated intergenerational artistic and political communities, youth especially, providing vital opportunities for connection, education, enterprise, expression, performance, making a living as an artist, travel to nearby and far out locations, and civic engagement. For marginalized peoples in segregated, oppressive and unsafe societies, Hip Hop has been a life changer that refutes supposed disposability, ensures being seen and heard, deep connections and networks, and economic viability.

A phenomenon that by no means is over, Hip Hop, as I contend, had its greatest energetics (input and output) during the ‘90s when the art form and culture was in its early to mid-twenties, as the nation headed toward the end of the century and was at the height of its own cultural production and media capabilities. Just before the full emergence of the internet, when most people still had landlines, call-waiting was a technological marvel, and cell phones were big, bulky devices making their way from the military and medical professions to elite movers and shakers. Folx had pagers, if that, and the now defunct pay phones were everywhere. People still listened to tapes and then CDs, while audiophiles and DJs were the few buying records, keeping vinyl alive as the technology changed.

One of the most prolific periods of production and expansion, the ‘90s saw the rise of some of the genre's biggest artists whose imprints on the culture (and commerce) will never be forgotten, permanently shaping the field. Known as the golden era,^[69] this special period was full and diverse, featuring major contributions from the East and West coasts, as well as the Dirty South, with old and new school artists recording, releasing videos and rocking stages at the same time. An explosive era of creativity, groups like De La Soul, A Tribe Called Quest, Leaders of the New School, NWA, Pharcyde, Wu-Tang Clan, Brand Nubian, The Roots, The Fugees, Digable Planets, Outkast, Goodie Mob and so many others released multiple albums. Many also saw the departure of key players who launched phenomenal solo careers such as Q-Tip/Kamaal The Abstract, Busta Rhymes, Dr. Dre and Ice Cube, Method Man, Ghostface, Raekwon, RZA, ODB, Lauryn Hill, Wyclef Jean, Andre 3000 and Big Boi, Cee-Lo, artists whose records still bang as they continue to expand their artistry. At the same time, heavy hitters like LL. Cool J, Nas, Snoop Dogg, Tupac/2Pac Shakur, The Notorious B.I.G. and Jay-Z, dominated the decade with their chart-topping singles and legendary albums. Big names from the mid-late ‘80s like KRS-One, Slick Rick, Rakim, Doug E. Fresh, EPMD, Biz Markie, Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince continued making hits and remained relevant despite the heavy competition and proliferation of younger artists. Producers like Dr. Dre, Puffy/P.Diddy, Timbaland, J. Dilla, Marley Marl, Pete Rock, Premier, Prince Paul, Swiss Beatz, Mannie Fresh and The Neptunes also rose to fame,^[70] becoming prominent artists themselves and replacing the DJ as a focal point, paralleling the way emcees replaced the DJ in 1979.^[71]

Released in November, 1989, Queen Latifah’s All Hail The Queen contained the monumental single “Ladies First” featuring Monie Love, a British sister emcee, and shocked the world with her Black feminist, Pan-African Hip Hop stance. The single and video were extremely popular at the turn of the decade, forecasting the phenomenal role females would hold in Hip Hop, despite the ways they had been hugely overshadowed by male dominance in life and the industry. One of the 25 selections preserved by the National Recording Registry of the Library of Congress in 2023, the album is retrospectively praised for, “announcing that rap could be female, Afrocentric, and incorporate a fusion of musical genres… includ[ing] reggae, as well as Hip Hop, house and jazz” since “Queen Latifah sang as well as rapped” and “addressed race, gender, political, and social issues that were contemporary, yet remain universal.” Additionally they note that the “19 year old” from Jersey “was not the first female rapper, but her work with other female rappers . . . opened a new door for discussion about gender in rap.” ^[72] Just a year prior, MC Lyte’s Lyte As A Rock (1988)^[73] was the first full-length album released by and the “beginning of the solo female MC [who] broke barriers in the music industry not only for being the first solo female MC to sell millions of singles and albums but also for her songs that helped transition hip-hop from the feel good party vibe of the late 1970s into a socially conscious form of expression.”^[74] Songs like Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five’s “The Message” (1982), Grandmaster Melle Mel’s “White Lines (Don’t Do It)” (1983), and Brother D with Collective Effort’s “How We Gonna Make the Black Nation Rise?” (1980) which predates both popular classics, clearly demonstrate Hip Hop’s early sociopolitical consciousness.^[75] But artists like Tanya “Sweet Tee” Winley, whose 1980 track “‘Vicious Rap’ was one of the first notable examples of rap getting political… decrying high taxes and police repression[,]” and Roxanne Shanté, MC Lyte and Queen Latifah were critical in establishing a Hip Hop feminist perspective in the ‘80s.^[76]

None of this would be possible without the presence and innovations of the first of the firsts, Sharon “Sha-Rock” Green, a Bronx native. Sha-Rock, one of the Funky 4 + 1, “was quite literally the first female rapper recorded on vinyl” and “member of the first hip-hop crew to appear on television.”^[77] Originally a “B-girl” (break dancer), she was dubbed the “‘First Lady of Hip Hop’ [and] was known for her ability to rhyme and her technological innovation with the use of an echo chamber which became common.”^[78] In an extensive NPR interview, Sha-Rock recalls her struggles as a teenage female Hip Hop artist during the genre’s earliest days, a place from which her memory and contribution has been obscured. Sha-Rock clarifies her role and crew’s significance, “I was always a secret weapon. In order to compete with my group, a lot of other groups were scrambling to find female MCs that can be able to deal with Sha-Rock[,]” and “we created the first rap battles in the history of hip-hop culture. That means groups going against each other. I was the first and the only female MC to ever battle anybody.”^[79] She and her group the Funky 4 + 1 shattered several glass ceilings, especially during Hip Hop’s televised inauguration with her “groundbreaking (pregnant!) performance on Saturday Night Live[SNL]” in 1981.^[80] Neo-soul singer Angie Stone’s group The Sequence, Roxanne Shanté, and JJ Fad were some of the earliest female Hip Hop artists to get major shine, though many others performed live and recorded songs without contracts or wider distribution.

The market, reflecting society at large, was male dominated, even though artists and record label owners like Sylvia Robinson, who discovered and signed the Sugarhill Gang to her label Sugar Hill Records, proved women were more than capable of finding and developing talent, writing bars as well as deals. Robinson organized one of the largest and most successful early Hip Hop tours as Sha-Rock recounts:

What Sylvia Robinson did with this first Sugar Hill tour is she wanted everybody that was under her label at the the time -- Grandmaster Flash and Furious Five, The Sugarhill Gang, the Funky 4 + 1, and The Sequence -- she wanted to take us on like this major tour around the world to be able to let people see what Sugar Hill Records was doing. I mean, we hit every major city that you could imagine. Every arena, every place that we played at was sold out. People of all ages were coming because you’re talking about 1981, where rap music is hitting. She took this R & B group Sky[y] that was out there with us, and she took Charlie Wilson and the Gap band with us, and the Rapping Dummy was out there with us as well. And so it was the best thing ever: the first documented hip-hop tour. It was on a different level. The Sequence and I were the only females out on the major tours in the beginning of hip-hop culture outside of New York City or the surrounding areas.^[81]

And yet, even with the tour and televised performance, Sha-Rock was unable to convert this success into a major career, largely because of the shady exploitation she experienced as a young Black emcee and one of the only women. Her group and other label mates suffered tremendously, receiving little to no compensation, despite promises from Robinson to pay them each “$500 a show” while on tour, which never occurred.^[82] Worse, after Debbie Harry (Blondie), who had requested the group perform with her on SNL offered to ensure better protection and freedom with new contracts on her label, many of the members stuck with Sugar Hill.

According to Sha-Rock, “[We] re-signed thinking that Sylvia Robinson was gonna do the right thing by us again, because this is what she promised us. She promised us that she was gonna pay us[,]… allow us to record as many songs as we want, and she was gonna ensure that all our fruits of labor would come to fruition -- where we would be able to monetize off of the culture that we created. And she promised us that, but it didn’t happen.”^[83] This continued for years and resulted in the group’s dissolution, as well as Sha-Rock’s personal retreat from the scene to maintain her love for herself and the culture, which has also impacted the way she’s been viewed in Hip Hop’s origin stories. As Sidney Madden states, “Black musicians have been getting robbed by the record industry since the beginning of time. But it hits different when the label owner stealing your money is family.”^[84]

Sha-Rock continued blazing paths as she helped coordinate a multi-party lawsuit against Sugar Hill Records in the nineties, reuniting several label mates to demand and receive their just due.^[85] Settled in their favor and ultimately victorious in reclaiming her place, at a Bronx Music Heritage Center event Sha-Rock emphasizes:

But I just want to say before I get started on Sha-Rock -- I just want to say y’all, we are the Bronx. We created a multi-billion dollar business back in the 1970s. You know what I’m sayin’? A multi-billion dollar business. Even though I have never received or recouped [all] the money. As well as Grandmaster Caz, and Melle Mel and Grandwizard Theodore. We are still proud to have created this billion dollar business. Because you know what? When it’s all said and done, it was never about the money for us. It was about the heart and soul of the culture: the B-girl, the B-boy, the MC, the Graffiti Artist, the DJ. Right here, in the Bronx. So let’s give a round of applause for the Bronx, and everybody that represents hip hop culture to the fullest.^[86]

MC Sha-Rock’s experience is notable and she must be celebrated as the cutting-edge female emcee, who set the artistic bar high for female Hip Hop artists, commanded respect by men and women alike (on and off the stage), knew her value and refused to be an industry puppet, perpetually used, or forgotten. While many artists may not know of her, she created the earliest archetype of the female emcee as one equal (if not better) than the men, with serious writing skills and flow, power, beauty and brains to boot. The labor and artistry of Sha-Rock and the early female rappers made it possible for the various dynamic women of Hip Hop in the ‘90s to grab the mic, enter and center themselves on and beyond the stage, and their power inspired her to do the same. This further demonstrates the impressive potency of ‘90s Hip Hop and reflexive influence on prior generations, paving the way for their return and expanding legacies.

The ‘90s were an incredible and incredibly challenging time for females in the game. The skills and success of the aforementioned artists, along with Salt N’ Pepa, paved the way for groups like TLC and solo artists like Yo-Yo, L’il Kim, Foxxy Brown, and Missy “Misdemeanor” Elliott who exploded onto the scene.

The most versatile emcee and strongest lyricist in the Fugees, Lauryn Hill created a solo project, The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, that undeniably shifted the hyper-masculine market, which had persisted in spite of the vast number of women-identified Hip Hop heads in front of cameras, behind the scenes, and in the audiences.^[87] Hill’s magnum opus demonstrated that women could rock the mic, top charts and sell out stadiums on their own terms, which included her lyrical content, musical style and aesthetics. A decade after MC Lyte’s herstoric success, Lauryn Hill elevated the artform and reception to new heights. Also from Jersey, Latifah’s Hip Hop feminism, multifaceted artistry and empowerment directly influenced Lauryn. An interdisciplinary Hip Hop studies text dedicated and responding to the phenomenal artist and The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill notes, “The album sold over 420,000 copies the first week, over 10 million the following year, and received 10 Grammy nominations, winning five, including ‘Best New Artist,’ and ‘Album of the Year’[,]” which made it “the first Hip Hop album to win a Grammy for ‘Album of the Year’ [and] Lauryn… the first woman to receive such a high number of nominations in one year.”^[88] Further contextualizing, editor M. Billye Sankofa Waters writes, “Beyond the album’s commercial success, Hill’s radical self-consciousness and exuberance for life lead us through her Blackgirl journey of love, motherhood, admonition, redemption, spirituality, sexuality, politics, and nostalgia.”^[89] In an era where women were repeatedly marked as social and sexual capital in rhymes and music videos, Hill provided a significant counterpoint and irrefutable demand for more respect and spaces for women creatives than just as sexualized counterparts to more popular male artists, or eye and lap candy for their productions and widespread consumption.

In the recently released Ladies First: A Story of Women in Hip Hop Netflix series (2023), much attention is given to the notion of “first ladies'” and the highly competitive and patriarchal nature of the game that only allowed for one female emcee per male crew and very few slots for solo artists, a persistent trend for decades.^[90] There was Ms. Melodie (BDP), Yo-Yo (Ice Cube/Da Lench Mob), Ladybug (Digable Planets), Mia X (Master P/No Limit), Trina (Trick Daddy), and Eve (Ruff Ryders). And even if they weren’t officially attached to a male crew, many of us were first introduced to female artists as a guest appearance, by way of affiliation, such as Sista Souljah with Public Enemy, Bahamadia with The Roots, DaBrat with Kriss Kross and Jermaine Dupri. Lauryn (Fugees), L’il Kim (Junior Mafia), Foxxy Brown (Jay-Z and later The Firm), Rah Digga (Flipmode Squad and Busta Rhymes), Queen Pen (The Lost Boyz) -- some of the biggest names rose to fame off this game. However, as scholar Cheryl L. Keyes details in her research on the four general categories female emcees appeared to be tagged in and dance between as Hip Hop performers -- “Queen Mother, Fly Girl, Sista with Attitude and Lesbian” -- the power and gender dynamics do not discount their gravity or value:

More importantly, female rappers, most of whom are Black, convey their views on a variety of issues concerning identity, sociohistory, and esoteric beliefs shared by young African American women. Female rappers have attained a sense of distinction through revising and reclaiming Black women’s history and perceived destiny. They use their performances as platforms to refute, deconstruct, and reconstruct alternative visions of their identity. With this platform rap music becomes a vehicle by which Black female rappers seek empowerment, make choices, and create spaces for themselves and other sistas.^[91]

Today’s proliferation of solo women-identified rappers is due to the decimation of glass ceilings and shackles of their predecessors, particularly in the ‘90s with the widespread success of female emcees and the women supporting them behind the scenes, including their fans.

And while female emcees were the ones getting the most attention, DJ Jazzy Joyce was one of the first to take the decks.^[92] “DJs Spinderella, Pam The Funkstress, and Kuttin Kandi” were also critical way-makers for the next generations of selectas and turntablists including DJ Beverly Bond, DJ Misbehavior, “Reborn and Natasha Diggs,” as well as Miss H.E.R. and DJ Perly.^[93] DJ Perly was the first woman to win the U.S. title in the internationally recognized DJ competition the D.M.C. World Championships in 2017, and the first to do it again in 2022. Behind the cameras, fashionistas like June Ambrose and April Walker had a tremendous impact on the styles and careers of major stars and fashion houses, as did male counterparts like Dapper Dan and Daymond John of FUBU. This is to say nothing of the women working in record labels and production studios, like Drew Dixon, who often championed overlooked and under promoted artists while confronting sexism and sexual violence.^[94] Or journalists like Elena Romero, or Sheena Lester, who was responsible for the assembly of close to 200 Hip Hop artists and cultural workers in the panoramic time capsule of A Great Day in Hip Hop (1998), photographed by the legendary Gordon Parks.^[95] And we certainly need to uplift the mothers, wives, girlfriends, children’s mothers, sisters and daughters of these artists who provided the enduring, invaluable energetic fuel of love, inspiration, comfort, space, and often financial support critical to help make rap dreams a reality, as well as preserve their legacy after the too often, too early and tragic transitions of Black male Hip Hop musicians from this earthly plane.^[96]

The beauty of this period is the emergence and flourishing of so many different artists and styles, repping their selves, hoods, and regions, listening closely and responding to each other through the media including radio, television, film, and journalism. Print magazines boomed, including Hip Hop Connection, Rap Masters, The Source, Right On!, Word Up!, Vibe, XXL, and Urb, and local offerings, like Bomb from the Bay Area. Despite the initial reluctance from major radio and television stations (including MTV), to play and cover Hip Hop, Hot97 and BET made it because they did what others would not. MTV finally changed their tune in 1988 with YoMTV Raps! featuring Fab 5 Freddy and later on Ed Lover and Dr. Dre (the other one), lasting until 1995. Ralph McDaniels’ Video Music Box emerged as one of the truest Hip Hop journalism sources and remains the fullest archive of music videos, live performances, interviews and “shout-outs” by artists and fans alike that exists; a weekly show since 1983 that includes vintage rap videos and footage.^[97] The Stretch & Bobbito Show out of Columbia University’s radio station is another broadcast folx across the nation lived for that indelibly shaped ‘90s Hip Hop.^[98] And of course, there are the curations of big name mixtape DJs like Kool DJ Red Alert, Funkmaster Flex, DJ Clue, Tony Touch, Green Lantern, and Doo Wop, produced and sold on the streets and in record stores, as well as those created, traded in schools and on the block from innumerable local DJs and amateurs who did it at home for the love. Some have gone on to have illustrious careers and major musical impact as DJs, music producers, educators and record label owners, like J-Rawls, Evil Dee, DJ Spinna, Rich Medina, Dj Applejac, Bruce “RecordBreakin’” Campbell and so many who invested in and helped created Hip Hop culture and community.

Thirty years later, while some folx might consider the ‘90’s as old school, played out and irrelevant, but it’s still these songs that get the party started and the most overall play on dance floors. Old “skool” purists who were teenagers in the ‘70s and ‘80s, as old or older than Hip Hop itself, might see the explosive decade as one of full capitalist exploitation that marked and resulted in Hip Hop’s downfall, but the joy I and so many of my generation experienced growing up with Hip Hop in the ‘90s is because of the rapid evolutionary expansion into so many styles, geographies and arenas. And not just albums and tracks that were thrown together, but masterpieces with complete narratives across the project and within each song -- interludes included -- dropping bars on bars on bars, evolving all the while. Yes, we had super commercial artists flossin’ and glossin’, but that wasn’t everybody’s style and even some of the biggest commercial names, like Biggie and JAY-Z ,were some of the greatest emcees with serious, unique unmatched skills and content. It was also because of the continuous progression throughout the decade. We started with MC Hammer and ended with Mos Def. This was only possible because these folx grew up listening to the artists that paved the way for them and birthed the entire culture. Emcees, deejays, producers, hip hop musicians and crowds of the ‘90s were well versed and studied, but still hungry to prove themselves against each other, everyone who had come before, but most of all, themselves.

There are literally way too many artists and tracks to name, but I would be remiss to not remind you of the depth of talent aside from those already mentioned: DMX, Eminem, Fat Joe, Pig Pun. The Jungle Brothers, Pete Rock & CL Smooth, Poor Righteous Teachers, Black Moon, Mobb Deep, Black Star, Dead Prez, CNN (Capone N’ Noreaga); crews like Naughty by Nature, Boot Camp Clik (Heltah Skeltah and Smif n’ Wesson, Organized Konfusion with Pharoahe Monche), Onyx , 3rd Bass and House of Pain; southern stars Masta P & No Limit, Little Brother, and DJ Screw; west siders DJ Quik, Digital Underground, Too Short, Mellow Man Ace, Mc Ren, The D.O.C., Cypress Hill, Xhibit, Rass Kass; midwesterners Slum Village, Frank n’ Dank, The St. Lunatics, a young Kanye West. And two words capitalized: MF DOOM. Plus, plenty of underground artists without commercial radio play here but incredible international support, like the Arsonists and Immortal Technique.

Thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of locally-based artists and groups emerged, enlivening their communities and performance scene contributing to the larger Hip Hop landscape and industry. Spaces like the Nuyorican Poets Cafe and Brooklyn Moon became institutions and training grounds for some of the most renowned artists, as did Lyricist Lounge and Def Poetry Jam. Big shout-outs to Tyfu, Kev, Nico and Hip Hop Nation, and Meli (North Carolina), Project Lumens (Atlanta/NYC); Faro Z, Jamed, Urban Lyricists, Entrfied, Steve Wallace, Frank & Tony (NYC), Hip Hop artists who I had the pleasure of knowing, watching, and collaborating with over the years as we cypha’d, sharing ideas and rhymes, beats and life and a deep love for this music and culture that truly informed and inspired us to get up, free, and fly.

In the ‘90s, people lined up outside of record stores, waiting for hours till an album dropped at midnight and then streamed in the doors. There was nothing like the first time you got home, cracked the plastic and played the whole thing in/on your cassette, CD, or record player. Or better yet, in the car or crib with friends, riding around, chilling out and listening hard together! As Hip Hop DJ scholar Todd Craig recalls:

I learned a lot about the subtleties of Hip Hop sonics by constantly listening to albums, beats, and breaks; listening to other DJs scratch on albums, beats and breaks; scratching records; making double cassette mixtapes and pause-button beat tapes. I began to see the prominent Hip Hop artists of my day (who ironically came from QB) telling tremendous stories in the span of four minutes or less. While most rappers may not have been “formally” trained, they had picked up on the aspects and elements of creative writing, poetry, and poetics (Bradley). And I always made the argument that the best poets of my youth were rappers, simple and plain; as emcees they used all the literary techniques of storytelling, cadence, alliteration, rhyme schemes, and various others, in myriad of overt and subliminal tactics to get their point(s) across in rhyme (Jocson; Low).^[99]

We listened so closely. To every word, storyline, ad lib, intro, outro, and interlude. To the lyrics, the beats, the instruments, the samples, all of it. Again and again. We memorized those verses and rapped along to our hearts’ content. While our high school wasn’t integrated or cool enough to have rap battles during lunch like so many of the environments where the dopest emcees emerged from, even my best school friend at the time, a white Jersey girl who’d also lived in Europe, would rap along with me as we recited LL Cool J lyrics acapella in science class. We all memorized certain songs and albums and thirty years later, if you put those tracks on, we can still spit 90-100% of the lyrics.

We are living archives of some of the most prolific and poignant Black writers to have walked the planet Earth. While some students might have memorized Cicero, Shakespeare, or Frost, it was Nas, JAY-Z, Biggie, L’il Kim and Foxxy, LL, Slick Rick, Nice & Smooth, Pharycyde, ATCQ, De La, Wu-Tang, Lauryn, Outkast, The Roots, Common and Black Star for me. They gave me a range of identities and ideologies to engage and expand from. They showed me Black was beautiful, boundless, always shifting and elevating like jazz, funk, blues and gospel. They showed me the hood was something to be proud of and respect, just like coming from the South, Africa, and the Caribbean. They schooled me on Black leaders and history I should know, especially since it wasn’t being taught in segregated public schools or celebrated enough beyond home and church. The publishing industry notoriously believed Black folx couldn’t write and wouldn’t read. Film and television producers and executives were also still overwhelmingly white males who marginalized and exploited Black viewers with limited options and air time. This shifted throughout the decade with the irrepressible success of films like Do The Right Thing, Juice, New Jack City, Boyz In The Hood, Friday and shows like the Fresh Prince of BelAir, New York Undercover, In Living Color, Martin and Living Single, but Hip Hop made all that possible.^[100]

High, not low key, Hip Hop allowed all of us to “Get Involved”^[101] and speak our truths. From the upbeat hits, “Poison,”^[102] “MotownPhilly,”^[103] “Feels Good,”^[104] “This is How We Do It,”^[105] to the more laid back “U Remind Me,”^[106] “Right Here,”^[107] and “Hey Mr. DJ.”^[108] To the croonin’ of Jodeci, sublime sounds of Meshell Ndegeocello and neo-soul of D’Angelo, Erykah Badu, and Jill Scott. Aaliyah, Xscape, Total, Faith, Brandy, Beyonce. Groove Theory. Hip Hop transformed R&B’s possibilities. Hip Hop allowed us to imagine ourselves into spaces where we weren’t welcome or fathomed (“Eric B. Is President”^[109] & “If I Were President”^[110]); to reinvent literature and folk tales (“Children’s Story”^[111] & “Christmas in Hollis”^[112]); to create alternative personas and alter egos (“The Humpty Dance,”^[113] “Doomsday,”^[114] “The Real Slim Shady,”^[115] “Roman’s Revenge.”^[116]) To tell exquisite tales about our lives (“Juicy”^[117] & “Respiration”^[118]); to create new ones (“If I Ruled The World (Imagine That)”^[119] & “Zion”^[120]), to revisit history (“A Song For Assata”^[121] & “I Can”^[122]), and to rethink our place in the world (“Everyday People,”^[123] “Where I’m From”^[124] & “ATLiens”^[125].). To stretch out into new ones (“The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly)”^[126] & “Triumph”^[127]). To time travel from “93 till infinity.”^[128] To clapback at those closest to us who weren’t treating us right (“U.N.I.T.Y.”^[129] & "Sound of da Police”^[130]). To celebrate Black Love (“Around The Way Girl,”^[131] “Find A Way,”^[132] & “Mind Sex”^[133].) To count our losses (“Renee”^[134] & “They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y.))”^[135]. And to have a great time regardless (“Not Tonight (Ladies Night Remix),”^[136] “Luchini AKA This Is It”^[137] & “Scenario”^[138]).

Hip Hop saves lives, way more than it is purported to take through gun violence or drug abuse. It has shown so many folx who they are, what and where they come from and for, to be proud of themselves and their heritage, their natural and applied beauty, intelligence, skills, talents, abilities and limitless potential. And above all, that we are not alone. In an anti-Black, overly-policed, sexist, secularized, capitalist, gendered, homophobic and ableist world, Hip Hop has provided emotional, intellectual, and spiritual support to so many who have been exploited and silenced. It has taught us to see ourselves as pure poets and writers, as creators, debaters, researchers and innovators, as leaders and community members capable of changing the world and creating our own standards of excellence, capable of sustaining ourselves, our relationships and each other. As Craig reveals, “I’m really not sure how else to say this other than by spitting out the statement that Hip Hop saved me. It was the music and the culture that have always brought me through the toughest moments and the darkest days.”^[139] Outkast and The Dungeon Family opening Aquemini (1998) with “Hold On, Be Strong,” speaks to us spiritually across timelines and dimensions.^[140] Same as Kendrick Lamar’s “Alright.”^[141] There is love, healing, upliftment and validation in these beats and breaks; revolutionary potential in the sheer energetics that arise from a cypha/er, whether that be lyric, dance, music or visually based -- Hip Hop tends to combine all the above with fluid elevation. And everybody feels it.

‘90s Hip Hop helped to integrate the world, transposing and mobilizing Black thought and creativity to spaces where Black people may never have been allowed, seen or heard. This is because Hip Hop is magnetic, commands and demands respect, even from racists who see Black folx through a dehumanized and deficient lens. Have you ever tried to write a rhyme about some experience or thing of importance -- something real -- or to someone important? At least 16 bars long and one that doesn’t sound corny or wack? Lyrics that have a flow, can go with a beat, and not just end rhymes? One that you could stand and deliver in a crowded room, or on stage in front of hundreds, thousands, or hundreds of thousands of people? Repeat over and over, year after year in different hoods and nations and it would still sound fresh?

Now, could you pen several of these and memorize them, along with the lyrics of your greatest peers and predecessors (along with the remixes) and be ready to recite them at any time, on top of any beat where they fit? Do you have the stamina and breath control to keep it poppin’ and the crowd rockin’? Or can you freestyle a rhyme about a topic off the top of your dome? Look around you right now and find three things of interest, plus examine your context, emotional state, what’s happening in the world and what matters, now go… And keep it going… Not so easy. It can’t be cheesy and you can’t stop. And you have to be able to do all this in front of at least a roomful of Hip Hop heads, which in this country, is still inherently Black and Brown people, looking dead at you with their eyes as the mirror to your soul, reflecting how real you are and how much you believe in your skills and “Wat Cha Sayin.’”^[142] Too much?

Well, how about some head spins or windmills? The crab and scribble scratch, or dropping needles on wax? Or how about creating a name, original but with a recognizable style and tagging it somewhere where it matters? Or producing a dope beat with proper levels, interesting layers and changes, in the vein of, but different from, anything we’ve already heard, one that other emcees and musicians will want to get on top of and folx can move to? This is not a game, but it’s fun. Masters make it look easy because they have and continue to perfect their craft, putting in the 10,000+ hours, whether they’re famous stars or not. Because it’s for the love and it truly gets them high. Hip Hop is serious skills, original, avant-garde and accessible creative arts from people who were enslaved, abused, tortured, separated from families and motherlands, withheld from literacy, learning, and practicing their native cultures for centuries. It’s not just hooligans and ho’s, criminals and crimes against language, blunts and bottles in the booths. It’s research, experimentation, analysis, and high level spiritual work. More than any generation, ‘90s Hip Hop artists clarified this for the world.

For those who agree that ‘90s music deserves a bigger role in the definition of a decade, but think that other forms like alternative rock and electronic music were more impactful, I’d simply ask you to take a closer look at the world around you today, the whole world, and see where and how these other sounds show up in and on charts, blocks, culture and politics. Sure we still love our “Teen Spirit” and Nirvana,^[143] and there’s an Alannis Morrissette musical, but did you see Hamilton?^[144] I didn’t, but Hip Hop and the ‘90s made that happen. No doubt. Black Lives Matter? That’s Hip Hop politics picking up where the Stop The Violence Movement, Black Panthers, Young Lords, Young Socialists, SNCC, Urban League and NAACP left off, and were silenced. Groups like Nirvana popularized alternative, grunge rock and styles that surely remain relevant, as does the explosion of electronic music also happening in warehouses and the industrial wastelands of the rapidly imploding and decaying cities left behind during the wave of offshoring pulling millions of American jobs and livelihoods overseas, never to return. However, Hip Hop was the biggest cultural creation the ‘90s birthed and impacted more lives and bank accounts than anything or anybody else. And yes, the internet was in its burgeoning stages in the ‘90s, but hardly anyone was using it. Meanwhile, Hip Hop was the internet before the internet. Cyphas, recording, stage and street battles, branding, mixtapes, radio shows, dial-up video channels. And the ‘90s was the most expansive, prolific and memorable era in the cultural movement’s history.

For many people, especially those who lived through it like me, the 1990s will always be the decade of Hip Hop at its finest. As the genre celebrates its 50th anniversary in 2023, Hip Hop is still not getting the props and attention it deserves. Despite having been one of the most influential cultural and economic forces the United States has ever created and the world has ever seen. Despite Hip Hop’s ubiquitous presence across the globe, from language, to fashion, music, visual and moving arts, architecture and politics. Beyond the few brands and institutions honoring this major occasion with events, exhibits and commercials, there’s a notable lack of focus on Hip Hop’s creators, legends, lyrics, educators and fans. Sustained and major attention to scholarship, preservation, and reclamation of this time and the artists who contributed to its phenomenal success is needed, beyond a “Reasonable Doubt.”^[145]

Why isn’t Hip Hop more recognized and included in the K-12 educational system and pedagogy? Why aren’t there more Hip Hop studies centers, departments, majors and minors on college and university campuses? Why are Nas, Steve Stoute, Ben and Felicia Horowitz, Fab 5 Freddy and QD3 responsible for fundraising and providing grants to ensure Hip Hop artists have health care and can afford the services they need, when they were exploited by an industry and economy that benefitted exponentially from their original ideas and hard labor? Stoute state: “We are honoring those who have led the culture but have not received the financial rewards that’s on par with their cultural contribution. And we’re giving significant money, a half a million dollars, and health care, to these people who we believe were contributors who didn’t get what they deserved”^[146] The first two artists to be recognized were Rakim and Scarface. Absolutely beautiful, but just the edge of the grand cavern when there’s so many folx from the ‘70s who deserve this honor. Why are the same few rappers and producers mentioned over and over, without acknowledging the names of other artists who might not have had a chart-topping single but undoubtedly influenced the culture, or surviving members of groups who still deserve recognition and celebration? How many more Hip Hop heavy hitters will be lost because they weren’t taken care of or meant to survive this country? How is this culture being recorded and remembered? What will the archives tell us about these people, this country, this business, this sound, these communities and geographies? Who will save and protect them? Who will read and analyze and value the lives and lyrics of these artists, if Hip Hop is consistently diminished, de-intellectualized and commercialized? What does that say about Black lives and thought?

When we’re looking back on Hip Hop and the ‘90s, it's not just the music that we miss. It’s the energy, the possibilities, the community. The colors and the freedom, the dances and the videos. It was about expression and finding your authentic style and voice to speak your truth (not just for a billion likes and endorsement deals); and the “you” and “our” were equally potent. Thirty years after the Black Power and Black Arts movement, much of ‘90s Hip Hop’s driving force reflects this existential need to speak and be heard, to do so courageously, creatively, and continuously. Hip Hop has always had some of the most profound emotional and intellectual answers to the most provocative and painful questions, and ‘90s Hip Hop is one of the greatest living libraries of culture created. Improvisation, cyphas, uplifting Black lives and joy can heal the world. Listen, “The Choice Is Yours”^[147] but “Don’t Front, You Know I Got Cha Opin.”^[148]

Bibliography

1. Affatigato, Carlo. “The Song in the 2023 Amazon ‘Polar Plunge’ Commercial.” Auralcrave.October 21, 2023. https://auralcrave.com/en/2023/10/21/the-song-in-the-2023-amazon-polar-plunge-commercial/
2. “‘All Hail The Queen.’ (album). Queen Latifah. (1989).” Library of Congress. Recording Registry. April 12, 2023. https://www.loc.gov/programs/national-recording-preservation-board/recording-registry/registry-by-induction-years/2023/
3. A Tribe Called Quest. The Love Movement. Zomba Recording, 1998.
4. A Tribe Called Quest. The Low End Theory. Zomba Recording, 1991.
6. Bailey, Moya. “Misogynoir Transformed: Black Women’s Digital Resistance.” Brown University, Youtube video, July 7, 2021. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7EwUz0Ij0gE.
8. Bell Biv DeVoe. Poison. Geffen Records, 1990.
10. Black Moon, Smif-N-Wessun. Diggin’ In Dah Vaults. Nervous, 1995.
12. Black Sheep. A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing. The Island Def Jam Music Group, 1991.
14. Black Star and Common. Mos Def & Talib Kweli Are Black Star. Rawkus Entertainment, 1998.
16. Boyz II Men. Cooleyhighharmony. Motown Records, 1991.
17. Boyz n the Hood. Directed by John Singleton (Columbia Pictures, 1991).
18. Bradley, Adam and Andrew DuBois. The Anthology of Rap. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2010. ProQuest Ebook Central, https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/cunygc/detail.action?docID=3420967
19. Brother D with Collective Effort, “Dib-Be-Dib-Be-Dize / How We Gonna Make The Black Nation Rise?” Clappers Records, 1980.
20. Brown Sugar – Music From the Motion Picture. (Various Artists). Geffen, 2002.
21. Camp Lo. Uptown Saturday Night. Arista Records, 1997.
23. Campbell, Joseph. “The 1990s.” Lectures in History. CSPAN. April 27, 2023. https://www.c- span.org/video/?527702-1/1990s
25. Common. Like Water for Chocolate. Geffen Records, 2000.
26. Common. Resurrection. Relativity Records, 1995.
28. Craig, Todd. “K for the Way”: DJ Rhetoric and Literacy for 21st Century Writing Studies. Denver, Colorado: Utah State University Press, 2023.
29. Digable Planets. Reachin’ (A New Refutation Of Time And Space). Capitol Records, 1993.
30. Digital Underground. Sex Packets. Tommy Boy Music, 1990.
31. DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince. Homebase. Zomba Recording, 1991.
33. “DJ Jazzy Joyce. DJ Jazzy Joyce Full Interview.” Video, 20:54. NAMM Oral History Program. National Association of Music Merchants. November 12, 2012https://www.namm.org/video/orh/dj-jazzy-joyce-full-interview
35. Do the Right Thing. Directed by Spike Lee (40 Acres and a Mule Filmworks / Universal Pictures, 1989).
36. eBay Motors. “Keep Your Ride-Or-Die Alive,” Youtube video 1:00. September 12, 2023. https://youtu.be/mtbMFnJoMLs?si=tEKzHTAtF2vD78E6.
38. Eminem. The Marshall Mathers LP. Aftermath Entertainment/Interscope Records, 2000.
39. EPMD. Unfinished Business. Priority Records, 1989.
40. Eric B. & Rakim. Paid in Full. The Island Def Jam Music Group, 1987.
41. Erykah Badu. Worldwide Underground. Motown Records, 2003.
42. “Fab 5 Freddy, Interview by Joy Reid.” Internet archive video 1:00. The ReidOut, MSNBC. June 30, 2023. https://archive.org/details/MSNBCW_20230630_230000_The_ReidOut/start/3120/end/3180
43. The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. TV series. Six Seasons, NBC, 1990-1996.
45. Friday. Directed by F. Gary Gray (New Line Productions / Cube Vision, 1995).
46. Gang Starr. Hard To Earn. Virgin Records, 1994.
48. Gee, Andre. “The Problem With NYC Mayor Eric Adams’ War on Drill Rap.” Complex. February 14, 2022. https://www.complex.com/music/a/andre-gee/problem-with-nyc-mayor-eric-adams-war-on-drill-rap?utm_source=dynamic&utm_campaign=social_widget_share.
50. Gladys Knight & The Pips. I Feel A Song (Expanded Edition). Sony Music Entertainment, 2014. [original release 1974]
51. Gleiberman, Owen. “On The Record Film Review.” Variety, January 25, 2020. https://variety.com/2020/film/reviews/on-the-record-review-russell-simmons-drew-dixon-1203476329/.
52. Grandmaster Flash & the Furious Five. The Message. Sugar Hill Records, 1982.
54. Grein, Paul. “Mothers of 2Pac and Biggie Embrace at the 1999 VMAs: Producers Recall the Moment.” Billboard. April 9, 2019. https://www.billboard.com/music/awards/2pac-notorious-big-mothers-1999-video-music-awards-8506068/
56. Heavy D & The Boyz. Don’t Curse/You Can’t See What I Can See. Uptown Records, 1992.
58. Host, Vivian. “Freestyle: And Oral History.” Red Bull Music Academy. September 21, 2015. https://web.archive.org/web/20180503181415/http://daily.redbullmusicacademy.com/specials/freestyle-oral-history
59. In Living Color. TV series. Five Seasons, Fox, 1990-1994.
60. Jay-Z. Reasonable Doubt. Carter Enterprises, 1996.
61. Jones, Okla. “Inside The Block Party Where Hip-Hop Was Born.” Essence. February 21, 2023.
62. https://www.essence.com/entertainment/the-block-party-where-hip-hop-was-born-1973/
63. Juice. Directed by Ernest R. Dickerson (Island World / Paramount Pictures, 1992).
64. Keyes, Cheryl. “Empowering Self, Making Choices, Creating Spaces: Black Female Identity via Rap Music Performance.” That’s The Joint!: The Hip-Hop Studies Reader. Edited by Murray Forman and Mark Anthony Neal. New York: Routledge, 2004.
66. KRS-One. Return of the Boom Bap. Zomba Recording, 1993.
68. Ladies First: A Story of Women In Hip-Hop, TV Series, One Season, Netflix / Culture House Productions, directed by Hannah Beachler, dream hampton, Raeshem Nijohn, Giselle Bailey, Carri Twigg. August 9, 2023). https://www.netflix.com/title/80997174?source=35
70. Lamar, Kendrick. To Pimp a Butterfly. Aftermath/Interscope (Top Dawg Entertainment), 2015.
72. Lester, Sheena and Jonathan Rheingold. “Respect. The Greatest Day in Harlem 20th Anniversary Tribute, September 29^th, 1998.” The Game Changer LLC. Accessed September 27, 2024. https://cover.respect-mag.com/game-changer/
73. “Let’s Talk About The Female Rappers Who Shaped Hip-Hop.” uDiscovermusic. June 25, 2023. https://www.udiscovermusic.com/stories/the-female-rappers-who-shaped-hip-hop/
74. Light, Alan. “Hall of Fame Essay: Public Enemy.” Rock Hall, Rock And Roll Hall of Fame. Accessed September 20, 2024. https://www.rockhall.com/inductees/public-enemy
76. Lil’ Kim. Hard Core. Atlantic Recording Group, 1996.
78. LL COOL J. Mama Said Knock You Out. Def Jam Recordings, 1990.
80. Lost Boyz. Legal Drug Money. Universal Records, 1996.
81. Ludacris. Word Of Mouf. Island Def Jam Music Group, 2001.
83. Mad Skillz. Hip Hop Confessions. Podcast. Accessed September 27, 2024. https://soundcloud.com/hiphopconfessions.
85. Sidney Madden, Rodney Carmichael and Mano Sundaresan. “Baby Girl, You’re Only Funky as Your Last Cut: MC Sha-Rock.” Podcast. Louder Than A Riot. NPR Season 2, Episode 2, 20:22. March 23, 2023. https://www.npr.org/2023/03/21/1164986756/baby-girl-youre-only-funky-as-your-last-cut-mc-sha-rock
86. Madden, Sidney, Rodney Carmichael and Mano Sundaresan. “‘You Gotta Fight and Fight and Fight for Your Legacy’: Sha-Rock Claims Her Place as the First Female MC in Hip-Hop history.” Podcast. Louder Than A Riot. NPR. Season 2, Episode 2. March 23, 2023, https://www.npr.org/2023/03/23/1165321324/louder-than-a-riot-mc-sha-rock
87. Martin. TV series. Five Seasons, Fox, 1992-1997.
88. Mary J. Blige. What’s the 411?. UMG Recordings, Inc, 1992.
89. Marvin Gaye. What’s Going on?. Tamla / Motown Records, 1971.
90. McIntyre, Lee and Christopher Beem. “Part IV: Are We Living In A Post-Truth World?” By Hilary McQuilken and Meghna Chakrabarti.” In Search Of Truth, WBUR. February 27, 2020. https://www.wbur.org/onpoint/2020/02/27/part-iv-post-truth
91. “MC Sha Rock: Hip Hop Pioneer.” Women & The American Story. New York Historical Society. Accessed January 16, 2024. https://wams.nyhistory.org/end-of-the-twentieth-century/a-conservative-turn/mc-sha-rock-hip-hop-pioneer/
92. “Meet The Pioneering Queens of Hip-Hop.” The Birmingham Times. November 27, 2019. Accessed July 14,. 2023. https://www.birminghamtimes.com/2019/11/meet-the-pioneering-queens-of-hip-hop/
93. MF DOOM. Operation: Doomsday (Complete). Metalface Records, 1999.
95. Lin-Manuel Miranda. Hamilton. Based on Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow. In production 2015-present.
96. “Michael Jackson – Thriller (Official 4k Video).” YouTube video, 13:41. October 3, 2009.
98. Missy Elliott. Supa Dupa Fly. Elektra Entertainment Group, 1997.
100. Montell Jordan and Wino. This is How We Do It. The Island Def Jam Music Group, 1995.
102. Ms. Lauryn Hill. The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill. Ruffhouse Records, 1998.
104. Murray, Keith. The Most Beautifullest Thing in the World. Zomba Recording, 1994.
105. Myrie, Russell. Don’t Rhyme For the Sake of Riddlin’. Edinburgh: Canongate Books, 2009.
107. Nas. It Was Written. Columbia Records, 1996.
108. Nas. God’s Son. Sony Music Entertainment, 2002.
110. National Recording Registry Inducts Music from Madonna, Mariah Carey, Queen Latifah, Daddy Yankee.” Library of Congress. April 12, 2023.
111. https://newsroom.loc.gov/news/national-recording-registry-inducts-music-from-madonna--mariah-carey--queen-latifah--daddy-yankee/s/5a91b115-3825-4a5f-a702-35940b4de958
113. New Jack City. Directed by Mario Van Peebles (Warner Bros, 1991).
114. New York Undercover. TV series. Four Seasons, Fox, 1994-1999.
115. Nice, Rich. Telephone interview by the author. October 2023.
116. Nirvana, Nevermind. DGC, 1991.
117. Nicki Minaj. Pink Friday. Cash Money Records, 2010.
119. NYU High School Bioethics Project, Head To Head: The National Football League & Brain Injuries. NYU Langone Health. Accessed July 14, 2023. https://med.nyu.edu/departments-institutes/population-health/divisions-sections-centers/medical-ethics/education/high-school-bioethics-project/learning-scenarios/the-nfl-brain-injury.
121. Otis Redding and Carla Thomas. King & Queen. Atlantic Records, 1967.
122. Outkast. Aquemini. Arista Records, 1998.
123. Outkast. ATliens. Arista Records, 1996.
124. Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. Mecca and the Soul Brother. Elektra Entertainment, 1992.
126. The PJs: Music from and Inspired by the Hit Television Series. (Various Artists). All Love, 1999.
127. Public Enemy. Fear of A Black Planet. Def Jam Recordings, 1990.
129. Public Enemy. It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back. Def Jam Recordings, 1988.
130. Public Enemy. Yo! Bum Rush the Show. Def Jam Recordings, 1987.
131. Queen Latifah. Black Reign. Motown Record Company, 1993.
133. Ralph McDonald’s Video Music Box Collection. Accessed September 27, 2024. https://www.videomusicboxcollection.org/
134. Retro Clip. The Roxanne Wars. Youtube video, 10:06. April 3, 2018. https://youtu.be/qAtQi2dMti8?si=eAcR0mWXTPnlEeGp.
135. Rouse, Irving. “The Circum-Caribbean Theory, an Archeological Test.” American Anthropologist 55, no. 2 (1953): 188–200, http://www.jstor.org/stable/664586.
136. Roxanne Shanté. The Ol’ Skool Flava of Nia. TufAmerica, 2008. [originally released in 1984]
138. “The Roxanne Wars.” Strictly Business, May 9, 2011. http://strictlybusinesshiphop.blogspot.com/2011/05/.
139. Run DMC. Run-DMC. Arista Records, 1984.
141. Run-D.M.C. Raising Hell. Arista Records, 1986.
143. Run-D.M.C. Tougher Than Leather (Expanded Edition). Arista Records, 1988.
145. Safire. Don’t Break My Heart. Cutting Records, 1986.
147. Sankofa Waters, M. Billye. “Liner Notes: Introducing a 20-Year Reflection.” In Celebrating Twenty Years of Black Girlhood: The Lauryn Hill Reader. Edited by M. Billye Sankofa Waters, Venus Evans-Winters, and Bettina L. Love, ix-x. New York: Peter Lang, 2019.
149. Sanz, Ileana. “Early Groundings for a Circum-Caribbean Integrationist Thought.” Caribbean Quarterly 55, no. 1 (2009): 1–14. http://www.jstor.org/stable/40655240
151. Savant, Veracity. “Nas Launches ‘Paid In Full’ Foundation to Offer Financial Support & Healthcare To Hip Hop Pioneers.” Because of Them We Can, November 3, 2023. https://www.becauseofthemwecan.com/blogs/culture/nas-launches-paid-in-full-foundation-to-offer-financial-support-healthcare-to-hip-hop-pioneers
153. Schloss, Joe. Making Beats: The Art of Sample-Based Hip-Hop. Connecticut: Wesleyan University Press, 2004.
155. Scott, Dana. “Duck Down Records Founders Buckshot & Dru Ha Reflect on Enta Da Stage 25Years Later.” HipHopDX. October 19, 2018. https://hiphopdx.com/interviews/id.3160/title.duck-down-records-founders-buckshot-dru-ha-reflect-on-enta-da-stage-25-years-later
156. Setaro, Shawn, lucaswisental, Kiana Fitzgerald, Russ Bengtson, Ben Westhoff,  Anslem Rocque,  Khal,  Brendan Dunne,  edwinortiz, Austin Williams, Macklin Stern,  Graham Corrigan,  Frazier Tharpe,  Damien Scott,  Angel Diaz, Andre Gee, Dart Adams, Bonsu Thompson, Oliver Wang,  Jessica Mckinney. “The Best Hip-Hop Producer Alive, Every Year Since 1979.” Complex, January 30, 2024. https://www.complex.com/music/a/shawn-setaro/best-hip-hop-producers
157. Shannon. Let the Music Play. Undisc Music, 2006.
159. Shpigel, Ben. “What to Know About CTE in Football.” New York Times, July 5, 2022. https://www.nytimes.com/article/cte-definition-nfl.html
161. Slick Rick. The Great Adventures of Slick Rick. Def Jam Recordings, 1988.
163. Souls of Mischief. 93 Til Infinity. Zomba Recording, 1993.
164. Soul Train, TV series. 35 Seasons, Syndicated, 1971-2006.
165. Stretch & Bobbito: Radio That Changed Lives. Directed by Bobbito Garcia (Saboteur Media, 2015). https://stretchandbobbito.com/film.
166. The Sugar Hill Gang’ Rapper’s Delight. (Various Artists) Warner Music Group, 2018. [originally released in 1984]
167. The Cover Girls. Show Me. Fever Records, 1987.
169. The Notorious B.I.G. Ready to Die. Bad Boy Records, 1994.
170. The Pharcyde. Bizarre Ride II The Pharcyde. The Bicycle Music Company, 1992.
172. Thriller. Music Video. Directed by John Landis, performed by Michael Jackson (Epic, 1982).
173. Tommy Boy. “Grand Puba - 360 (What Goes Around) [Official Music Video].” YouTube video, 3:58. March 31, 2018. https://youtu.be/cl2DFBlBmGM?si=xvKTE60RB8zpy3pW
175. Tony! Toni! Tone! The Revival. Motown Record Company and UMG Recordings, 1990.
177. UGK and Outkast. UGK (Underground Kingz). Zomba Recording, 2007.
178. U.T.F.O. Hits. Select Reocds, 1996 [originally released in 1984].
179. Valadez, Anthony. Crate Diggers. TV series. Three Seasons, FUSE, 2012-2015. https://www.fuse.tv/shows/crate-diggers/yw86RxvVpiLy
181. Video Music Box. TV Series. WNYC, 1983-1996, WNYE, 1996-Present.
182. Watson, Elijah C. “Ma Dukes Is Determined To Keep J Dilla’s Legacy Alive.” Okayplayer, February 4, 2022. https://www.okayplayer.com/originals/j-dilla-ma-dukes-interview.html#
184. Wilder, Ben. “Amazon Rufus Rips TV Commercial,” YouTube video, 0:14. November 2, 2023. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8y07pL2qqPw
186. Wu-Tang Clan. Wu-Tang Forever. RCA Records, 1997.
187. You’re Watching Video Music Box. Directed by Nas (Showtime, December 3, 2021). https://www.paramountplus.com/movies/video/KlbUHIBbuH3VkVietDU1aCY8QXS3iJUc/.
188. Zhane. Pronounced Jah-Nay. Motown Records, 1994.

Notes

1. See American University professor Joseph Campbell’s “The 1990s.” Lectures in History, CSPAN, April 27, 2023, https://www.c-span.org/video/?527702-1/1990s.

   ↑

2. Black Sheep, “Strobelite Honey,” Track 5 on A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing, The Island Def Jam Music Group, 1991.

   ↑

3. Public Enemy, “She Watch Channel Zero?!,” Track 10 on It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back, Def Jam Recordings, 1988.

   ↑

4. Russell Myrie, Don’t Rhyme For the Sake of Riddlin’ (Edinburgh: Canongate Books, 2009), 102.

   ↑

5. Myries, 37,44, 51, 75-81,91-100.

   ↑

6. Brian Coleman, Check the Technique: Liner Notes for Hip-hop Junkies (New York: Villard, 2007), 493.

   ↑

7. Myrie, 103.

   ↑

8. Myrie, 75-81, 91-100.

   ↑

9. Myrie, 44.

   ↑

10. PE was the 4th Hip Hop group to be inducted in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame since annual ceremonies began in 1986: Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five (2007); Run-DMC (2009); Beastie Boys (2012).

    ↑

11. Alan Light, “Hall of Fame Essay: Public Enemy.” Rock Hall, Rock And Roll Hall of Fame. Accessed September 20, 2024. https://www.rockhall.com/inductees/public-enemy.

    ↑

12. See Light, “Public Enemy” and Myrie, Don’t Rhyme For the Sake of Riddling’,” 127-50, for more details and perspectives about the allegations, which include misquoting.

    ↑

13. Light.

    ↑

14. Myrie, 23,31,42, 53, 54.

    ↑

15. Myrie, 11-41; Brian Coleman, Check The Technique: Liner Notes For Hip-Hop Junkies (New York: Villard, 2007), 487-88.

    ↑

16. Coleman, 487.

    ↑

17. Myrie, 45-46.

    ↑

18. Myrie, 23-26.

    ↑

19. Myrie,81.

    ↑

20. Myrie, 8, 21.

    ↑

21. Myrie, 50, 31, 135-42.

    ↑

22. Myrie, 37.

    ↑

23. Myrie, 107.

    ↑

24. Coleman, 488.

    ↑

25. Coleman, 350.

    ↑

26. Myrie, 34, 42.

    ↑

27. Myrie, 34, 56.

    ↑

28. Public Enemy, “She Watch Channel Zero?!,” Track 10 on It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back, Def Jam Recordings, 1988.

    ↑

29. Coleman, 499.

    ↑

30. Heavy D & The Boyz, “You Can’t See What I Can See,” Track 2 on Don’t Curse/You Can’t See What I Can See, Uptown Records, 1992.

    ↑

31. Public Enemy, “She Watch Channel Zero?!,” Track 10 on It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back, Def Jam Recordings, 1988.

    ↑

32. Ben Shpigel, “What to Know About CTE in Football,” New York Times, July 5, 2022. https://www.nytimes.com/article/cte-definition-nfl.html; NYU High School Bioethics Project, Head To Head: The National Football League & Brain Injuries. NYU Langone Health. Accessed July 14, 2023 https://med.nyu.edu/departments-institutes/population-health/divisions-sections-centers/medical-ethics/education/high-school-bioethics-project/learning-scenarios/the-nfl-brain-injury.

    ↑

33. Misogynoir is a term created by Dr. Moya Bailey to address the specific violence and hatred of women who are Black, discussed further in this talk by the term’s creator. “Moya Bailey: Misogynoir Transformed: Black Women’s Digital Resistance,” Brown University. Youtube Video, 56:33. July 7, 2021. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7EwUz0Ij0gE.

    ↑

34. Lee McIntyre and Christopher Beem, “Part IV: Are We Living In A Post-Truth World? Interview by Hilary McQuilken and Meghna Chakrabarti.” In Search Of Truth, WBUR, February 27, 2020, https://www.wbur.org/onpoint/2020/02/27/part-iv-post-truth.

    ↑

35. Heavy D & The Boyz, “You Can’t See What I Can See,” Track 2 on Don’t Curse/You Can’t See What I Can See, Uptown Records, 1992.

    ↑

36. Heavy D & The Boyz, “You Can’t See What I Can See,” Track 2 on Don’t Curse/You Can’t See What I Can See, Uptown Records, 1992.

    ↑

37. Heavy D & The Boyz, “You Can’t See What I Can See,” Track 2 on Don’t Curse/You Can’t See What I Can See, Uptown Records, 1992.

    ↑

38. Heavy D & The Boyz, “You Can’t See What I Can See,” Track 2 on Don’t Curse/You Can’t See What I Can See, Uptown Records, 1992.

    ↑

39. Heavy D & the Boyz, “Heavy D & the Boyz-- You Can‘t See What I Can See.” Youtube video, 3:55. October 6, 2009, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J5uqPUZxZHg

    ↑

40. DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince, “Summertime,” Track 2 on Homebase. Zomba Recording, 1991.

    ↑

41. Sir Mix A Lot, “Baby’s Got Back,” Track 3 on Mack Daddy, American Recordings, 1992.

    ↑

42. Young MC, “Bust A Move,” Track 3 on Stone Cold Rhymin’, The Bicycle Music Company, 1989.

    ↑

43. eBay Motors, “Keep Your Ride-Or-Die Alive.” Youtube video, 1:00. September 12, 2023. https://youtu.be/mtbMFnJoMLs?si=tEKzHTAtF2vD78E6; UGK and Outkast, “Int’l Players Anthem (I Choose You),” Track 2 on UGK (Underground Kingz), Zomba Recording, 2007.

    ↑

44. Ben Wilder, “Amazon Rufus Rips TV Commercial.” YouTube Video 0:14. November 2, 2023. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8y07pL2qqPw; Ludacris, “Saturday (Oooh! Ooooh!),” Track 12 on Word Of Mouf, Island Def Jam Music Group, 2001.

    ↑

45. Carlo Affatigato, “The Song in the 2023 Amazon ‘Polar Plunge’ Commercial,” Auralcrave, October 21, 2023. https://auralcrave.com/en/2023/10/21/the-song-in-the-2023-amazon-polar-plunge-commercial/

    ↑

46. Gang Starr, “DWYCK,” Track 9 on Hard To Earn, Virgin Records, 1994.

    ↑

47. Todd Craig, “K For The Way”: DJ Rhetoric and Literacy For 21st Century Writing Studies (Denver, Colorado: Utah State University Press, 2023), 43.

    ↑

48. Andre Gee, “The Problem With NYC Mayor Eric Adams’ War on Drill Rap.” Complex. February 14, 2022. https://www.complex.com/music/a/andre-gee/problem-with-nyc-mayor-eric-adams-war-on-drill-rap?utm_source=dynamic&utm_campaign=social_widget_share

    ↑

49. Public Enemy, “She Watch Channel Zero?!,” Track 10 on It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back, Def Jam Recordings, 1988.

    ↑

50. Public Enemy, “Fight The Power,” Track 20 on Fear of A Black Planet. Def Jam Recordings, 1990; Do the Right Thing, directed by Spike Lee (40 Acres and a Mule Filmworks / Universal Pictures, 1989).

    ↑

51. Tommy Boy, “Grand Puba - 360 (What Goes Around) [Official Music Video],” YouTube video 3:58, March 31, 2018. https://youtu.be/cl2DFBlBmGM?si=xvKTE60RB8zpy3pW; Otis Redding and Carla Thomas, “Tramp,” Track 3 on King & Queen, Atlantic Records, 1967; Gladys Knight & The Pips,“Don’t Burn Down the Bridge,” Track 7 on I Feel A Song (Expanded Edition), Sony Music Entertainment, 2014 [original release 1974].

    ↑

52. Okla Jones, “Inside The Block Party Where Hip-Hop Was Born,” Essence. February 21, 2023.

    https://www.essence.com/entertainment/the-block-party-where-hip-hop-was-born-1973/

    ↑

53. “Fab 5 Freddy, Interview by Joy Reid.” Internet archive video 1:00. The ReidOut, MSNBC. June 30, 2023. https://archive.org/details/MSNBCW_20230630_230000_The_ReidOut/start/3120/end/3180

    ↑

54. Rich Nice, interviewed by the author, October 2023.

    ↑

55. Joe Schloss, Making Beats: The Art of Sample-Based Hip-Hop (Connecticut: Wesleyan University Press, 2004), 21-22.

    ↑

56. This is a term and theory coined by Julian Steward in the Handbook of South American Indians (1946) to refer to one of the primary groups of indigenous South Americans -- Marginal Tribes, Andean Civilizations, Tropical Forest Tribes and Circum-Caribbean Tribes during the northward spread of “formative culture” into the Caribbean and “southward into the Guianas and Amazonia'” erroneously based on “ethnological rather than archaeological data. However, “subsequent data'' questions the directional spread as well as disappearance of and absorption of the Circum-Caribbean Tribes. Irving Rouse, “The Circum-Caribbean Theory, an Archeological Test.” American Anthropologist 55, no. 2 (1953): 188–200, http://www.jstor.org/stable/664586. Circum-Caribbean has since been updated as, “a space which includes the insular Caribbean, together with the northern coastal states of South America, Central America, and the Caribbean coast of Mexico.” Ileana Sanz, “Early Groundings for a Circum-Caribbean Integrationist Thought.” Caribbean Quarterly 55, no. 1 (2009): 1–14. http://www.jstor.org/stable/40655240. It’s essential to highlight and include the Circum-Caribbean in Hip Hop as many of the pioneers and largest contributors are of Caribbean descent. Thanks to Hip Hop scholar Lisa Betty for putting me on to this term and Sanz’ usage.

    ↑

57. Hip Hop is usually personified as a woman by male artists as in Common’s “I Used To Love H.E.R.” (1994) which stands for “Hip Hop at its Essence is Real,” but has also been flipped and masculinized by women like Erykah Badu in her re-imaging featuring Common, “Love of My Life (An Ode To Hip Hop)” (2002). Common, “I Used to Love H.E.R.,” Track 2 on Resurrection, Relativity Records, 1995; Erykah Badu, “Love of My Life (An Ode To Hip Hop) featuring Common, Track 2 on Brown Sugar -- Music From the Motion Picture, Geffen, 2002.

    ↑

58. Run DMC, “It’s Like That,” Track 6 on Run-DMC, Arista Records, 1984; Run-D.M.C, Raising Hell, Arista Records, 1986.

    ↑

59. Run-D.M.C, “Peter Piper,” Track 1 on Raising Hell. Arista Records, 1986.

    ↑

60. Soul Train, TV Series, 35 Seasons, Syndicated, 1971-2006.

    ↑

61. “Decent sized” is extremely relative when describing record collections. Every DJ has a story about their collections, as well as their parents’ or primary influencer(s), and how that first relationship with music collection, playing, and archiving influenced their approach to and love for deejaying. For great interviews with DJs and their collections, see Anthony Valadez, Crate Diggers, TV series, TV series, Three Seasons, Fuse, 2012- 2015. https://www.fuse.tv/shows/crate-diggers/yw86RxvVpiLy

    ↑

62. Thriller, Music Video, directed by John Landis, performed by Michael Jackson (Epic, 1982); “Michael Jackson – Thriller (Official 4k Video),” YouTube video, 13:41. October 3, 2009. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sOnqjkJTMaA

    ↑

63. Freestyle music should not be confused with the art of freestyling and freestyle rap, where an emcee improvises over a beat in the current moment and technically should not include pre-written rhymes. Closely connected to Hip Hop because of instrumental and production styles influenced by Afrika Bambaattaa, Kraftwerk and Planet Patrol, freestyle music emerged in the ‘80s, a type of dance music dominated by Latine American artists in cities like NYC and Miami. Major hits include Shannon, “Let The Music Play” (1983); Cover Girls, “Show Me” (1986); Sa-Fire, “Don’t Break My Heart” (1987). See Vivian Host, “Freestyle: And Oral History.” Red Bull Music Academy, September 21, 2015 https://web.archive.org/web/20180503181415/http://daily.redbullmusicacademy.com/specials/freestyle-oral-history; Shannon, “Let the Music Play,” Track 1 on Let the Music Play, Undisc Music, 2006; The Cover Girls, “Show me.” Track 1 on Show Me, Fever Records, 1987.;Safire, “Don’t Break My Heart,” Track 2 on Don’t Break My Heart, Cutting Records, 1986.

    ↑

64. UPROXX, “BDP, Stetsasonic, Kool Moe Dee, MC Lyte, Doug Fresh, Just-Ice, Heavy D, Chuck D - Self Destruction,” Youtube video 6:01. November 27, 2011. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MmX5TgWsfEQ

    ↑

65. Not mad meaning mad, but mad meaning good (and plentiful). See DMV area artist and educator Mad Skillz, Hip Hop Confessions. Podcast. Accessed September 27, 2024. https://soundcloud.com/hiphopconfessions

    ↑

66. In 1984, U.T.F.O. released “Roxanne, Roxanne” about a fictional woman but industry drama led to the emergence of Roxanne Shanté (Lolita Shanté Gooden) a teenager working with Mr. Magic & Marley Marl to release “Roxanne’s Revenge” and battles over the real Roxanne, which included 25 recorded tracks and an estimated quadrupled more. Additional details about the legendary showdown and track lists included in Retro Clip, “The Roxanne Wars,” Youtube video, 10:06, April 3, 2018. https://youtu.be/qAtQi2dMti8?si=eAcR0mWXTPnlEeGp; U.T.F.O. “Roxanne, Roxanne,” Track 10 on Hits, Select Reocds, 1996 [originally released in 1984]; Roxanne Shanté, “Roxanne’s Revenge,” Track 1 on The Ol’ Skool Flava of Nia, TufAmerica, 2008 [originally released in 1984].

    ↑

67. Keith Murray, “The Most Beautifullest Thing in the World,” Track 4 on The Most Beautifullest Thing in the World. Zomba Recording, 1994.

    ↑

68. Keith Murray, “The Most Beautifullest Thing in the World,” Track 4 on The Most Beautifullest Thing in the World. Zomba Recording, 1994.

    ↑

69. Commonly used for this time period, there are mad debates over when the golden era began (‘80s or ‘90s), whether there were two (spanning mid-late ‘80s to early ‘90s and early-mid-‘90s to late-‘90s or early-2000s), and who has the right to proclaim such an era. There are councils and crews and critics, but no official, official date. See Adam Bradley and Andrew DuBois, The Anthology of Rap (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2010), Part II and III https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/cunygc/detail.action?docID=3420967

    ↑

70. This is a very short list of prominent producers and does not attempt to rank or include all contributors. For a more detailed and inclusive timeline see Shawn Setaro, et. al, “The Best Hip-Hop Producer Alive, Every Year Since 1979,” Complex, January 30, 2024, https://www.complex.com/music/a/shawn-setaro/best-hip-hop-producers

    ↑

71. The DJ was the central and foundational figure in early rap groups and crews like Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five or Afrika Bambaata and The Soul Sonic Force, but many argue this shifted with the release and immense success of Sugarhill Gang’s “Rapper’s Delight.” See Bradley and DuBois, 9-10. https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/cunygc/detail.action?docID=3420967; See also DJ Clark Kent qtd. in Craig, 25.

    ↑

72. “‘All Hail The Queen.’ (album). Queen Latifah. (1989).” Library of Congress. Recording Registry. April 12, 2023. https://www.loc.gov/programs/national-recording-preservation-board/recording-registry/registry-by-induction-years/2023/; “National Recording Registry Inducts Music from Madonna, Mariah Carey, Queen Latifah, Daddy Yankee.” Library of Congress. April 12, 2023.

    https://newsroom.loc.gov/news/national-recording-registry-inducts-music-from-madonna--mariah-carey--queen-latifah--daddy-yankee/s/5a91b115-3825-4a5f-a702-35940b4de958

    ↑

73. MC Lyte, Lyte as a Rock. Atlantic Recording Coporation, 1988.

    ↑

74. “Meet The Pioneering Queens of Hip-Hop,” The Birmingham Times. November 27, 2019. https://www.birminghamtimes.com/2019/11/meet-the-pioneering-queens-of-hip-hop/

    ↑

75. Grandmaster Flash & the Furious Five, “The Message,” Track 7 on The Message. Sugar Hill Records, 1982; Grandmaster and Melle Mel. “White Lines (Don’t Do It),” Track 9 on The Sugarhill Gang’ Rapper’s Delight, Warner Music Group, 2018 [originally released in 1984]; Brother D with Collective Effort, “Dib-Be-Dib-Be-Dize / How We Gonna Make The Black Nation Rise?,” Clappers Records, 1980.

    ↑

76. Setaro, et. al.

    ↑

77. “Let’s Talk About The Female Rappers Who Shaped Hip-Hop.” uDiscovermusic. June 25, 2023.  https://www.udiscovermusic.com/stories/the-female-rappers-who-shaped-hip-hop/

    ↑

78. “MC Sha Rock: Hip Hop Pioneer.” Women & The American Story. New York Historical Society. Accessed January 16, 2024. https://wams.nyhistory.org/end-of-the-twentieth-century/a-conservative-turn/mc-sha-rock-hip-hop-pioneer/

    ↑

79. Madden, Sidney, Rodney Carmichael and Mano Sundaresan, “‘You Gotta Fight and Fight and Fight for Your Legacy’: Sha-Rock Claims Her Place as the First Female MC in Hip-Hop history.” Podcast. Louder Than A Riot. NPR. Season 2, Episode 2. March 23, 2023, https://www.npr.org/2023/03/23/1165321324/louder-than-a-riot-mc-sha-rock

    ↑

80. Madden, Carmichael, Sundaresan, “‘You Gotta Fight.’”

    ↑

81. Madden, Carmichael, Sundaresan, “‘You Gotta Fight.’”

    ↑

82. Sidney Madden, Rodney Carmichael and Mano Sundaresan, “Baby Girl, You’re Only Funky as Your Last Cut: MC Sha-Rock.” Podcast. Louder Than A Riot. NPR Season 2, Episode 2, 20:22. March 23, 2023. https://www.npr.org/2023/03/21/1164986756/baby-girl-youre-only-funky-as-your-last-cut-mc-sha-rock

    ↑

83. Madden, Carmichael, Sundaresan, “Baby Girl.”

    ↑

84. Madden, Carmichael, Sundaresan, “Baby Girl.”, 34:38.

    ↑

85. Madden, Carmichael, Sundaresan, “Baby Girl,” 37:07.

    ↑

86. Madden, Carmichael, Sundaresan, “Baby Girl,” 40:53.

    ↑

87. Lauryn Hill, The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, Ruffhouse Records, 1998.

    ↑

88. M. Billye Sankofa Waters, “Liner Notes: Introducing a 20-Year Reflection,” in Celebrating Twenty Years of Black Girlhood: The Lauryn Hill Reader, ed. M. Billye Sankofa Waters, Venus Evans-Winters, and Bettina L. Love (New York: Peter Lang, 2019), ix-x.

    ↑

89. Waters, ix.

    ↑

90. Ladies First: A Story of Women In Hip-Hop, TV Series, One Season, Netflix / Culture House Productions, directed by Hannah Beachler, dream hampton, Raeshem Nijohn, Giselle Bailey, Carri Twigg. August 9, 2023). https://www.netflix.com/title/80997174?source=35

    ↑

91. Cheryl Keyes, “Empowering Self, Making Choices, Creating Spaces: Black Female Identity via Rap Music Performance,” in That’s The Joint!: The Hip-Hop Studies Reader, edited by Murray Forman and Mark Anthony Neal (New York: Routledge, 2004), 273-274. 

    ↑

92. “DJ Jazzy Joyce. DJ Jazzy Joyce Full Interview.” Video, 20:54. NAMM Oral History Program, National Association of Music Merchants, November 12, 2012, , https://www.namm.org/video/orh/dj-jazzy-joyce-full-interview

    ↑

93. Craig, 120-139.

    ↑

94. Owen Gleiberman, “On The Record Film Review,” Variety. January 25, 2020. https://variety.com/2020/film/reviews/on-the-record-review-russell-simmons-drew-dixon-1203476329/

    ↑

95. Sheena Lester, and Jonathan Rheingold. “Respect. The Greatest Day in Harlem 20th Anniversary Tribute, September 29th, 1998.” The Game Changer LLC. Accessed September 27, 2024. https://cover.respect-mag.com/game-changer/

    ↑

96. V. Wallace and A. Shakur were the first major moms for me but there are way too many, including C. Boyce Taylor. Much love to them all, especially Ma Dukes cuz Dilla is a Hip Hop decathlete. See Paul Grein, “Mothers of 2Pac and Biggie Embrace at the 1999 VMAs: Producers Recall the Moment.” Billboard, April 9, 2019. https://www.billboard.com/music/awards/2pac-notorious-big-mothers-1999-video-music-awards-8506068/ and Elijah C. Watson, “Ma Dukes Is Determined To Keep J Dilla’s Legacy Alive.” Okayplayer February 4, 2022, https://www.okayplayer.com/originals/j-dilla-ma-dukes-interview.html#

    ↑

97. Video Music Box, TV Series, WNYC, 1983-1996, WNYE, 1996-Present. See also Ralph McDonald’s Video Music Box Collection. Accessed September 27, 2024. https://www.videomusicboxcollection.org/ and You’re Watching Video Music Box, directed by Nas (Showtime, December 3, 2021). https://www.paramountplus.com/movies/video/KlbUHIBbuH3VkVietDU1aCY8QXS3iJUc/. 

    ↑

98. Check out the documentary on the impact and experience of the college students, friends and DJs Bobbito Garcia and Stretch Armstrong whose show was a major media force showcasing Hip Hop music and featuring live cyphas with some of the most important artists of the era. Stretch & Bobbito: Radio That Changed Lives, directed by Bobbito Garcia (Saboteur Media, 2015). https://stretchandbobbito.com/film

    ↑

99. Craig, 43.

    ↑

100. Do the Right Thing, directed by Spike Lee (40 Acres and a Mule Filmworks / Universal Pictures, 1989); Juice, directed by Ernest R. Dickerson (Island World / Paramount Pictures, 1992); New Jack City, directed by Mario Van Peebles (Warner Bros, 1991); Boyz n the Hood, directed by John Singleton (Columbia Pictures, 1991); Friday, directed by F. Gary Gray (New Line Productions / Cube Vision, 1995); The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, TV series, Six Seasons, NBC, 1990-1996; New York Undercover, TV series, Four Seasons, Fox, 1994-1999; In Living Color, TV series, Five Seasons, Fox, 1990-1994; Martin, TV series, Five Seasons, Fox, 1992-1997; In Living Color, TV series, Five Seasons, Fox, 1993-1998.

     ↑

101. Raphael Saadiq and Q-Tip, “Get Involved,” Track 10 on The PJs: Music from and Inspired by the Hit Television Series, All Love, 1999.

     ↑

102. Bell Biv DeVoe, “Poison,” Track 6 on Poison, Geffen Records, 1990.

     ↑

103. Boyz II Men, “Motownphilly,” Track 13 on Cooleyhighharmony, Motown Records, 1991.

     ↑

104. Tony! Toni! Tone!, “Feels Good,” Track 1 on The Revival, Motown Record Company and UMG Recordings, 1990.

     ↑

105. Montell Jordan and Wino, “This is How We Do It,” Track 1 on This is How We Do It.,The Island Def Jam Music Group, 1995.

     ↑

106. Mary J. Blige, “You Remind Me,” Track 4 on What’s the 411?, UMG Recordings, Inc., 1992.

     ↑

107. SVW, “Right Here,” Track 15 on It’s About Time, RCA Records, 1992.

     ↑

108. Zhane, “Hey Mr. D.J.,” Track 1 on Pronounced Jah-Nay, Motown Records, 1994.

     ↑

109. Eric B. & Rakim, “Eric B. Is President,” Track 9 on Paid in Full, The Island Def Jam Music Group, 1987.

     ↑

110. The Pharcyde, “If I Were President,” Track 6 on Bizarre Ride II The Pharcyde, The Bicycle Music Company, 1992.

     ↑

111. Slick Rick, “Children’s Story,” Track 3 on The Great Adventures of Slick Rick, Def Jam Recordings, 1988.

     ↑

112. Run-D.M.C, “Christmas in Hollis,” Track 15 on Tougher Than Leather (Expanded Edition), Arista Records, 1988.

     ↑

113. Digital Underground, “The Humpty Dance,” Track 1 on Sex Packets, Tommy Boy Music, 1990.

     ↑

114. MF DOOM, “Doomsday,” Track 2 on Operation: Doomsday (Complete), Metalface Records, 1999.

     ↑

115. Eminem, “The Real Slim Shady,” Track 8 on The Marshall Mathers LP, Aftermath Entertainment/Interscope Records, 2000.

     ↑

116. Nicki Minaj, “Roman’s Revenge,” Track 2 on Pink Friday, Cash Money Records, 2010.

     ↑

117. The Notorious B.I.G, “Juicy,” Track 10 on Ready to Die, Bad Boy Records, 1994.

     ↑

118. Black Star and Common, “Respiration,” Track 11 on Mos Def & Talib Kweli Are Black Star, Rawkus Entertainment, 1998.

     ↑

119. Nas, “If I Ruled the World (Imagine That),” Track 14 on It Was Written, Columbia Records, 1996.

     ↑

120. Ms. Lauryn Hill, “To Zion,” Track 4 on The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, Ruffhouse Records, 1998.

     ↑

121. Common, “A Song for Assata,” Track 15 on Like Water for Chocolate, Geffen Records, 2000.

     ↑

122. Nas, “I Can,” Track 7 on God’s Son, Sony Music Entertainment, 2002.

     ↑

123. Sly & The Family Stone, “Everyday People,” Track 6 on Stand, Sony Music Entertainment, 1969.

     ↑

124. Digable Planets, “Where I’m From,” Track 3 on Reachin’ (A New Refutation Of Time And Space), Capitol Records, 1993.

     ↑

125. Outkast, “ATlies,” Track 3 on Atliens, Arista Records, 1996.

     ↑

126. Missy Elliott, “The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly), Track 4 on Supa Dupa Fly, Elektra Entertainment Group, 1997.

     ↑

127. Wu-Tang Clan, “Triumph,” Track 2 on Wu-Tang Forever (Disc 2), RCA Records, 1997.

     ↑

128. Souls of Mischief, “93 Til Infinity,” Track 8 on 93 Til Infinity, Zomba Recording, 1993.

     ↑

129. Queen Latifah, “U.N.I.T.Y,” Track 12 on Black Reign, Motown Record Company, 1993.

     ↑

130. KRS-One, “Sound of da Police,” Track 7 on Return of the Boom Bap, Zomba Recording, 1993.

     ↑

131. LL COOL J, “Around the Way Girl,” Track 2 on Mama Said Knock You Out, Def Jam Recordings, 1990.

     ↑

132. A Tribe Called Quest, “Find a Way,” Track 2 on The Love Movement, Zomba Recording, 1998.

     ↑

133. Dead Prez, “Mind Sex,” Track 8 on Let’s Get Free, Loud Records, 2000.

     ↑

134. Lost Boyz, “Renee,” Track 6 on Legal Drug Money, Universal Records, 1996.

     ↑

135. Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, “The Reminisce Over You,” Track 10 on Mecca and the Soul Brother, Elektra Entertainment, 1992.

     ↑

136. Lil’ Kim, “Not Tonight,” Track 13 on Hard Core, Atlantic Recording Group, 1996.

     ↑

137. Camp Lo, “Luchini AKA This Is It,” Track 2 on Uptown Saturday Night, Arista Records, 1997.

     ↑

138. A Tribe Called Quest, “Scenario,” Track 14 on The Low End Theory, Zomba Recording, 1991.

     ↑

139. Craig, 164.

     ↑

140. Outkast, “Hold On, Be Strong,” Track 1 on Aquemini, Arista Records, 1998.

     ↑

141. Kendrick Lamar, “Alright,” Track 7 on To Pimp A Butterfly, Aftermath/Interscope (Top Dawg Entertainment), 2015.

     ↑

142. EPMD, “So Wat Cha Sayin’,” Track 1 on Unfinished Business, Priority Records, 1989.

     ↑

143. Nirvana, “Smell Like Teen Spirit,” Track 1 on Nevermind, DGC, 1991.

     ↑

144. Lin-Manuel Miranda. Hamilton. Based on Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow. In production 2015-present.

     ↑

145. Jay-Z, Reasonable Doubt, Carter Enterprises, 1996.

     ↑

146. From a Rap Radar podcast, qtd. at Veracity Savant, “Nas Launches ‘Paid In Full’ Foundation to Offer Financial Support & Healthcare To Hip Hop Pioneers.” Because of Them We Can. November 3, 2023.

     https://www.becauseofthemwecan.com/blogs/culture/nas-launches-paid-in-full-foundation-to-offer-financial-support-healthcare-to-hip-hop-pioneers

     ↑

147. Black Sheep, “The Choice Is Yours,” Track 7 on A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing, The Island Def Jam Music Group, 1991.

     ↑

148. Black Moon, Smif-N-Wessun, “I Got Cha Opin’,” Track 8 on Diggin’ In Dah Vaults, Nervous, 1995.

     ↑