Labels: Daddy Tank Records
Review by: Captain Fidanza
I used to like hippity hoppity. I used to know all about Herc and Bam and Jazzy Jay and where it all began and the South Bronx and how Run DMC took it to the next level before Public Enemy made it political and NWA took it back to the streets two and half thousand miles away. I used to like Mobb Deep and Gangstarr and EPMD and De La and then in 1993 it all coalesced in those 36 Chambers before everything became about gold and guns and grown men pretending to be gangsters. That’s when I stopped listening, when cunts like Sean Coombs made it all about getting into the top ten by mumbling nonsense over Sting records.
What made it especially frustrating was the way in which insufferable twats like Kanye West started thinking that the reason people were buying his records was in anyway related to his involvement. Well listen up you stupid motherfucker, I could get to the number one spot on the Twix Network Chart Show by releasing a record in which I repeated the half time scores from the Senegalese 3rd division over and over again if I had the money to license Curtis Mayfield’s back catalogue. Understand? Twat.
Social Studies sound like people who know all about where hip hop began, what it was once able to do and perhaps, in the right hands, what it might be able to do again. They clearly understand all about samples and how a well-placed, well-chosen five seconds from a physical education album recorded in the 1960s is worth five times anything that fucking Sting can offer you.
In short, this is easily as good as anything that Quannum produced in the late nineties and if you know what’s what, then you’ll know this is something special.