FROM DA BRICKS

The kiddy rap phenomenon of the early ’90s produced a surprising amount of quality acts given its gimmicky nature. Illegal, Chi-Ali and Shyheim all released solid LPs during this period in the genre’s history, but no act managed the consistent quality that Da Youngsta’s achieved. Four albums over a period of just three years also makes them one of the most prolific of all hip hop acts, kiddy or otherwise, and the fact that they were able to maintain a high standard over all four releases is relatively astonishing. After ‘I’ll Make U Famous’, their last album, they fell off the hip hop radar and this is a great shame as I consider them to be a seriously slept on group who deserved significantly more props than they got.

‘No Mercy’ was their third studio album and is arguably their best. The group’s debut ‘Something For Da Youngstas’ suffered from being perhaps a little too soft, and their sophomore release ‘The Aftermath’ is excellent in places but lacks coherence over the whole album due to a wide range of production credits (although the pedigree of beatmaker on this album is significant). Produced largely by Marley Marl and K-Def, ‘No Mercy’ features bangin’ beats that combine elements of jazz with hard, gritty drums that complement the MCs consolidated senses of style. Funnily enough, ‘Hip Hop Ride’ was the track that made the most impact commercially although it is not representative of the sound of the remainder of the album where street narratives and bragging verses prevail.

Just flicking through the tracks on ‘No Mercy’ again highlights the point to me that there really isn’t a dud track on here and there are plenty of bangers to boot. ‘Mad Props’ is an upbeat party anthem with a warm and bouncy feel (check the video below); ‘Put Me On’ sees the group delve into a ghetto romance backed by an atmospheric and head noddy beat; ‘Illy Filly Funk’ features some sweeping strings and a subtle horn loop (this nearly made the cut for the strings mix) and ‘In The City’ has a similar ‘cityscape at sunset’ vibe about it. Tajj, Tarik and Qu’ran also do the beats justice, with relaxed and accomplished flows delivered with post-pubescent voices that match the edgier content of the rhymes found on both ‘The Aftermath’ and this release.

Whether this is totally new to you or if you just haven’t got a hold of it for some reason then this comes highly recommended at From Da Bricks. The consistently high standard of the production plus the maturity of the MCs make this an excellent album that you should not fail to add to your collection. Kiddies they may have been, but there is nothing gimmicky or adolescent about ‘No Mercy’: this is quality hip hop from front to back.

I have no idea how Yall So Stupid didn’t make more impact in ’92 than they actually did. I slept on this for a long time and was really happy to cop it a year or two back with the feeling that I had unearthed a little known gem. ‘Van Full Of Pakistans’ is fun, upbeat and light-hearted hip hop that is reminscent of early Pharcyde and similar artists of the era. I would also draw an analogy with the Native Tongues collective in that the album features intelligent lyricism and funky production to boot: a comparison that should demonstrate the high quality of this release to anyone who considers themselves to be a fan of real hip hop.

I actually know very little about the group as information on the internet is somewhat limited. Interestingly, the crew are from Atlanta: not exactly the most high profile city in the universe of hip hop (cue multiple comments to the contrary…) but the sound is east coast, early mid-school through and through. The beats are upbeat and funky, with crispy snares and jazzy loops, and the majority are produced by Spearhead X with Da King & I also making a couple of contributions. I’ve fallen into the pattern recently of picking out and commenting upon individual tunes but I’m going to resist the temptation to do so here as this really is an album best enjoyed in its entirety. The majority of the tracks are upbeat party tunes, but there are also a couple of slower cuts that feature more reflective and thoughtful lyricism (see ‘Family Tree’). In general the rapping is also excellent, with all four MCs possessing nice flows with original spins on the ‘boast and brag’ content that was dominant in the early ’90s.

I’m not sure how many of these cuts made it as 12”s, but Discogs seems to suggest that single releases from this album were limited. The only video available on YouTube is of the song that shares its name with the album itself, and it gives a feel for the crew that should leave you wanting more.

I believe that Yall So Stupid eventually mutated into Mass Influence (check the archives) but beyond that, I really don’t have a lot more knowledge of what became of the crew’s various members. As I said before, the fact that this is not more widely known is slightly bewildering, as it is highly entertaining and accessible for serious heads and more casual listeners alike. Still, as with so many albums found online in the blogging community, this has essentially been forgotten and is no longer in print. Do yourself a favour and cop it.

Original Flavor were one of those crews that proved to be less than the sum of their parts. Despite the presence of Ski on the boards and competent mic skills all round, there still remains something slightly lacklustre about the group’s sophomore release ‘Beyond Flavor’. As with all albums of this ilk, it has its moments, but the overall feeling I am left with is one of vague disappointment. Coppin’ this off the back of the crew’s classic ‘Can I Get Open’, I was hoping for more of the same high grade mid-school, but it seems that they could not maintain this sort of quality over the length of an LP in its entirety.

‘Can I Get Open’ is of course excellent, with a phat beat and the verse that catapulted Jay Z into a career that has seen him become one of the figureheads of modern hip hop. Whether this is a good thing or not remains debatable, but his appearance on this track is sensational, clearly overshadowing the other MCs’ contributions. Although none of the other tracks live up to the album’s opener and group’s trademark cut, there are other good tracks on this album. ‘Beyond Flavor’ rolls along nicely with a piano loop and tight drums and ‘Blowin’ Up Da Spot’ features some early ’90s style sleighbells that swing from left to right in your headphones. ‘Hit’ is also good, although I’ve spoiled it for myself somewhat because I used to play it at about +6% on my turntables so it now sounds a little slow, and I also dig ‘All That’ despite its incredibly cheesy chorus hook and bridge vocals.

It isn’t that the other songs here are necessarily bad, but they certainly lack something, particularly in contrast to the stronger cuts on the album. The verses are perfectly well delivered and the content is as you would expect for the era, but as with the beats, nothing really stands out and demands your attention like quality hip hop should do. I can understand why the reception towards this album wasn’t great at the time, particularly with the plethora of truly great releases that dropped in ’93/’94, pushing this into the shadows. Still, it is worth a listen, and if you are a fan of Ski’s later production work then it is interesting to hear where he honed his skills back in the day.

Building on the groundwork laid down by Das EFX in the early ’90s, the Fu-Schnickens had a unique and distinctive style that seems to divide a hip hop audience: you either love it or hate it. With tons of pop culture references, verses built around onomatopeia and perhaps some of the fastest delivery ever recorded, the group certainly possessed flow but lacked thought-provoking content. Although the gimmicky nature of their style can grow tiresome over the course of an album, they should not be viewed as simply a novelty rap act, and there are cuts on their sophomore release that see them demonstrate their impressive mic skills over some dope beats with real flava.

K-Cut of Main Source fame and Diamond D both contribute to production on this album which, although uneven, does have some slammin’ tracks. ‘Sum Dum Monkey’ is little more than bassline, drums and horn loop at the chorus, but it has a real sense of energy and works well with the Fu-Schinickens rapid fire delivery. ‘Watch Ya Back Door’ is similarly stripped down and effective for the same reason, and the two Diamond D productions are both good, if not examples of his finest work. I also like ‘Who Stole The Pebbles’ which samples a bouncy little piano loop and heavy snare hit. ‘Nervous Breakdown’ is also the home of the group’s crossover hit ‘What’s Up Doc?’ which is a guilty pleasure for me; it’s pretty corny, but I still can’t help but nod my head to it.

Chip-Fu is without a doubt the most charismatic of the crew, taking the group’s unique style of delivery to its extreme. I remember playing this to a friend recently and she refused to believe that his verse was even physically possible, claiming that there must have been editing work done to piece the rhymes together. At times it does feel like this with Chip-Fu laughing, snorting, impersonating Bugs Bunny and chanting the Batman theme tune all within the space of a bar or two, and although it does feel a little repetitive for a whole album, you have got to admire his original and highly accomplished flow. The other two MCs also hold their own, but are ultimately overshadowed by Chip-Fu’s dexterity and ingenuity.

This is by no means a great album, but it is entertaining and enjoyable if you dip in and out of it occasionally. Given their upbeat and head-noddy vibe, these are the sort of songs that work well in a club environment and have an infectious quality that means you won’t be able to help your head boppin’ along to the beat. The Fu-Schnickens vague silliness is what should be enjoyed about them: they are an antidote to serious, hardcore hip hop that was dominant within the genre around ’94. Once you’ve heard Chip-Fu rip through 32 bars, make sure that you pick your jaw up from the floor and enjoy indulging yourself in some fun and original hip hop that has now been essentially forgotten.

My introduction to Nine came whilst doing a brief stint of voluntary work in a local charity shop in an effort to break the habit of perpetual sitting on my arse whilst at university. This isn’t quite as altruistic as it sounds, as this particular branch of Oxfam did have a relatively large store of vinyl which admittedly contributed to my decision to volunteer in this particular shop (no such thing as a selfless act). Granted, the majority of it was absolutely awful, but one afternoon I stumbled across a 12” that caught my interest. A man with twists in his ‘fro, baggy slacks and timberlands was bustin’ a hip hop stance which instantly drew me to the record, and given that it featured a Portishead remix, it seemed like 99p well spent. I wasn’t wrong.

‘Whutcha Want?’ is a classic underground gem with soaring strings and the bass hook off ‘Sittin’ On The Dock Of The Bay’. I couldn’t believe that I’d never heard of this guy before and hankered after more.

Unfortunately, both of Nine’s releases are notoriously hard to come by, reaching silly money secondhand on the internet having never been granted the reissue treatment. ‘Nine Livez’ still eludes me (the album that ‘Whutcha Want?’ appears on), but I was lucky enough to find his sophomore release for a paltry fiver at a local record shop and it is bangin’ from front to back.

Nine’s delivery is one of the most distinctive in this era of rap music. His gravelly rumble of a voice is incredibly forceful, but this effect is achieved without shouting or straining. In fact, his delivery feels relaxed and effortless, only adding to the rawness of his vocals which rarely grate in the way that some of the genre’s more gritty vocal performances can do. The content is relatively predictable, but Nine carries it with ease, weaving clever street narratives and boasting about his impressive displays of lyrical prowess.

The production side of things doesn’t disappoint either, the lyrical rawness matched by stripped down, no frills drums and loops. The beats here are absolutely bangin’ and demonstrate the simplicity with which quality hip hop can be successfully executed. Interestingly, the majority of board duties are handled by Rob Lewis, an unlikely looking caucasian whose only other major production credits are on DJ Chuck Chillout & Kool Chip’s ‘Masters Of The Rhythm’ LP and as guitarist on PRT’s ‘The New World Order’ album. It looks like he may be one of those strange anomalies that stepped into the realms of hip hop production, put together some quality beats and then moved onto other things. This is a shame, because the man demonstrates a serious talent for the genre that could have been more heavily exploited. In all probability, I suspect that he is now working in the industry as a studio engineer or multi-faceted producer, makin’ waves behind the scenes. Whatever the case, props are most definitely in order.

If this is something that you have struggled to get a hold of or have simply slept on, you are in for a real treat. This is dark, gritty NYC hip hop with an original edge that will have your head nodding for years to come. Peep it.