Rapper Little Shawn has an incredible Hip-Hop story. A native of East Flatbush, Brooklyn, the veteran MC-turned-dietician sat with Drink Champs for more than three hours. Over the course of the discussion, the guest (who now goes by Shawn Pen) details the mutual respect he shares with JAY-Z. Shawn recalls his complicated relationship with Eric B., helping Busta Rhymes get a better solo deal when he left Leaders Of The New School, and playing a role in a chain of events that would land AZ on Nas’ Illmatic album. However, most people may know Shawn’s name from a connection to Tupac Shakur. On November 30, 1994, Pac entered Manhattan’s Quad Studios to record a session with Shawn, who he’d known for some years. Upon entering, Shakur was robbed and shot in the recording studio. Upstairs, Biggie Smalls, Diddy, Uptown Records head Andre Harrell and others were also working. While Shakur survived the five bullet wounds, the event would fracture his relationship with Biggie. It also played a pivotal role in the coastal beef of the mid-1990s. Tupac Hit Up Many More People Than Biggie In His Original Makaveli Liner Notes N.O.R.E., a friend of Shawn’s, brings up the incident multiple times throughout the lengthy conversation. At one point, the guest, who served a five-year prison sentence between 1998 and 2003, admits that he has fought people over making accusations in the past. “I came home on a Tuesday; I had a fight Saturday night. I fought to the door.” At 2:46:00, he adds, “That thing has followed me and it has plagued me forever—all day, forever.” In a rare video interview, Shawn is willing to share his take on what happened, and where things went wrong. At 14:00, Shawn Pen remembers being with Tupac Shakur during a day in 1993. He recalls riding from Shakur’s posh hotel room in Manhattan to Brooklyn in a BMW. With plans to party that night, Shawn says he did not like the vibe he witnessed between the Interscope Records rapper and the street figures in Brooklyn. Shawn, who opted to stay home, later reveals that it was that evening when Pac would be accused of rape. A year later, around the time of the shooting and robbery, Shakur was convicted of first-degree sexual abuse and sentenced to over a year in prison. Snoop Dogg Provides New Details About 1996 Meeting Between Tupac & Nas (Video) At 1:23:00, N.O.R.E. interrupts Shawn. “For the record, you definitely did not rob Tupac?” the Capone-N-Noreaga co-founder asks. “Of course not,” Shawn responds. “But I’ll give you a funny story,” he continues. N.O.R.E. interjects “But you know the ni**as that robbed Tupac?” “No, no,” Shawn replies. The guest proceeds to tell a story involving DJ Richie Rich of 3rd Bass. Later known as Daddy Rich, Shawn says that he attended the same high school as the man born Richard Lawson. According to Pen, they were loose associates. However, he proceeds to tell a story of an early 1990s night at a Downtown Manhattan club where Richie Rich had a brief misunderstanding with some very treacherous New York City street figures. All Eyez On The Score: A Breakdown Of The Beef Between Tupac & The Fugees (Video) “So we’re in this party, and I’m with the worst that Brooklyn has to offer, and I see Richie Rich and another guy that used to be with 3rd Bass. I like these guys, but I know ’em through Clark [Kent], because of this whole DJ thing. Clark is my guy. I’m always at his house, and I know everybody that’s around him. So I see this dude, and of course they’re already drunk, but I want to keep them away from these [Brooklyn street] guys. I see them, and I’m pouring champagne. They hit my arm, and [caused me to spill] champagne on my man Scooter. Bruh. I look at him, and he’s like, ‘Yo, who is these dudes?’ I look and I’m like, ‘I got it.'” Shawn says he pushed Richie Rich and the other 3rd Bass affiliate away. He says that in trying to isolate the two parties, Rich was being held back by the other man. “I don’t what happened. I go in my pocket, and I [pull] my scalpel out, and I start chasin’ ’em through the party, like, ‘Y’all frontin’ now. Stop.’ Right?” Shawn continues, “We leave the club. My car, I had a Lexus coupe…we get outside and we walk to the cars, and my sh*t is leanin’.” The rapper made a discovery, “My sh*t is riddled with bullets.” Recalling the pain, he continues, “I already know who did it…I catch him, and I put him in the hospital.” The incident added to some ongoing cases Shawn says he was dealing with in New York. The rapper’s mother said that police were looking for him. “This kid went in the house, got his mother, called the ambulance, went to the hospital, [and] she called the police. [He] picked me out of a lineup.” Shawn says he reached out to Clark Kent to mediate the matter. Clark initiates a three-way call with Shawn and Richie Rich. Shawn recalls reminding the DJ/producer that when his Lexus was shot up, he did not involve the authorities. “‘I’m turning myself in tomorrow with a lawyer; don’t go down there [to testify against me].’ The next day I go down there, turn myself in, [and] this mothaf*cka is behind [one-way glass] and picks me out.” Shawn was released that day. In a strange turn of events, Richie Rich was unlawfully carrying a gun. He’s caught, arrested, and locked up. “So now he has a case.” Shawn recalls using some industry figures to testify as eye-witnesses to the Lexus vandalism. Per the story, Rich was offered to drop his charges. The Outlawz Dispute Jimmy Iovine’s Claim That He Bailed Tupac Out Of Jail (Video) At this part of the story, Shawn admits to strong-arming the Brooklyn DJ who would later work with Kurious Jorge and appeared in Juice. “The night I caught him, I took everything from him, and I sold it to a guy that gave it to Tupac.” Shawn adds that the famous jewelry portrait of Pac includes a diamond-encrusted bone bracelet. The piece originally came from the 3rd Bass member and Def Jam Records artist. While speaking of this serious incident, Shawn Pen moves back to Quad Studios. “So as far as robbing anybody, that’s so far beneath me, as a person. See, if I’m gonna rob anybody, at that time, when I was in the trenches, it’s gonna be [face to face], and you’re gonna know who did it, and it’s not gonna be for jewelry.” Tupac was allegedly robbed by masked men. “It’s gonna be for something that’s [called] ‘a no-look back.’ See, if you grab a bag and you can’t live off this bag, don’t do it. Because it’s not enough for you to live comfortably. Don’t do it.” Treach Says Biggie Did Not Set Up Tupac & Explains Why (Video) N.O.R.E. brings up the All Eyez On Me film, which Shawn condemns throughout the interview. “I would never,” responds the guest at the implication that it was him. “See, when that happened, it became such a phenomenon, especially in Brooklyn. I had guys tell me, ‘You know I was there, and I did it.’ I’m like, ‘Really? You were there?’ Listen, I’m the only one that got questioned for the crime—in Andre Harrell’s office, with Andre there,” Shawn says of the Midtown loft. At 1:39:00, Little Shawn raises his voice at the line of questioning, asserting that he was there, and had to return on December 1 to get his car from a nearby parking lot. Asked where he was as Tupac entered, Shawn says, “I was upstairs already.” He describes being by the reception area with Puffy and Andre. “This is how the whole sh*t came about: Andre was doing New York Undercover; you know that was his television show with Malik Yoba…somebody had a bright idea and said, ‘Yo, look, we’re gonna get Pac to do a song with Shawn.’ I had just signed to Uptown [Records] at the time.” How Prison Transformed Tupac But Could Not Save Him From Death Row “When [Tupac] got there, and got off the elevator—even the account that he made, that’s not what happened. He said he got off the elevator and everybody ran from him and they wasn’t [engaging]. That’s not what happened. We ran towards him. We was trying to get him to sit down. He went to sit down, and he popped back up [because he was wounded in his groin area]. He said, ‘Call my mother.’ Detectives got there. The ambulance got there. They put him in the gurney, and they stood him up, and they brought him in the elevator to bring him down. So now everybody else that was still there, the police was like, ‘We know that there’s guns up here; we’re gonna search this floor.'” Shawn says he used that threat and helped a Tupac associate hide his firearm in the piano in a band recording room. Shawn says that months later, he and Biggie Smalls discussed the issue. “Me and Big—God bless the dead—are in Daddy’s House [Studios], and we’re talkin’ about this. Big is like, ‘Yo, I don’t know why he would think that I had anything to do with that. Tupac came to New York and I told him about hanging out with these guys.’ Tupac went and told these ni**as that Big said that sh*t! So now they [were upset] at Big. See, you don’t hear that sh*t!” N.O.R.E. says he is aware of that point, but feels it is under-publicized. Former Rap Exec Jimmy Henchman Sentenced To Life For Murder “So Big was mad that Pac put him on blast. He said, ‘I can’t believe that. I’m the one that went and got his gun for him, out the studio.’ I looked [at him] and said, ‘You got it out the piano?’ He said, ‘How’d you know?’ I said, ”Cause I put it there.’ All of that sh*t that happened afterwards was a ploy, and it was manufactured by Suge Knight.” “If you think about it back then: Tupac got convicted of the rape, he went to jail. That sucka-ni**a Kevin Powell did an interview for VIBE with Tupac, and Tupac said, ‘Thug Life is dead.’ He said, ‘I might be killed after this interview. But I want my truth to be known.’ He’s doing the interview. Suge Knight goes to get him out of jail. When Suge Knight got him out of jail, it’s the first time you heard, ‘Biggie and Puff did it.’ That whole East Coast [vs.] West Coast sh*t was manufactured by Suge. Suge did that [blaming of Puff Daddy and Biggie]. Tupac wasn’t saying that; Tupac was blaming street guys. After Suge came and got him out of jail [it changed].” N.O.R.E. points out that Shawn had ties to these street guys. Shawn responds, “Yeah, but I wasn’t a street guy. I was a rapper.” Noreaga responds, “I can’t really let you get away with that [answer].” Shawn doubles down. “But you have to. You know why? Because you wouldn’t know that, if you didn’t have a foot in the street. You don’t know a thing about me; what’d you know? It’s the truth!” 20 Years Later Here Are So Many Things About Biggie Smalls You Didn’t Know At 1:46:00, N.O.R.E. reminds Shawn of rumors that he is one of three people, including Spencer “Scooter” Bowens (who Shawn alluded to in the 3rd Bass story), who have been tied to the robbery without charges. “They say that y’all ni**as robbed Tupac,” the host points out. “Here’s the thing: it’s been 25 years. I was the only one questioned for the crime.” Shawn says the questioning was due to the fact that he was present at the studio and had an open case at the same precinct at that same time. He adds that in Andre Harrell’s presence, investigators told him that they had reason to believe he was jealous of Shakur. Shawn says he responded, “‘That’s your angle? Peace,’ and I walked out.” He looks at N.O.R.E. “Bruh, listen to me: if I take something from you, it’s gonna ruin your life. If I take your chain and your watch, that ain’t gonna ruin your life. So if I ever rob somebody, it won’t be that.” At 2:30:00, Little Shawn describes meeting Biggie early on. Based on a Brooklyn connection and respect, B.I.G. shouted him out on “Party & Bullsh*t” two years before the Quad incident. The pair also made 1995 video single “Dom Perignon.” At the close of the interview, he describes removing his likeness from 2009’s Notorious.
Source: AmbrosiaForHeads.com
Our love for The The Notorious B.I.G. will always be just that — big! Who would’ve thought that 25 years ago, a guy self-described as “Black and ugly as ever” would go on to become one of the most revered emcees to ever touch a mic by kicking off his career with a debut album we all know and love as Ready To Die. The LP was universally acclaimed from jump — we even had to bump it up from our original 4.5 rating in ’94 to a perfect Five Mics score back in ’02! — and the appreciation hasn’t faltered in the time since its release.
Now, Amazon Music is taking time to show Biggie’s arrival album its proper dues with a mini doc that you can watch right now.
The doc includes words and recollections from those who were there from the beginning, including Mister Cee who submitted BIG’s first mixtape to The Source‘s former “Unsigned Hype” editor Matty C. The rest is of course history, leading to a feature in our March 1992 publication (Issue #30) that would go on to officially put him on the rap map and, well, a legend was born!
The Birth of Biggie: 25 Years of Ready To Die is narrated in part by the slain rapper himself, and even comes with an extra Amazon Music component that you can activate by saying “Alexa, play ‘The Birth of Biggie.’” Technology, man!
Watch The Birth of Biggie: 25 Years of Ready To Die by Amazon Music above. R.I.P forever, B.I.G.!
Tupac Shakur and Madonna shared a lot in common on both a professional and personal level (see: “Madonna MC: 10 Times Madame X Flexed Her Hip-Hop Cred“), so much so that Pac was driven to write a letter to Madonna during his highly-publicized stint in prison back in 1995. Now, following the pop queen’s failed attempt to appeal the sale of it last month, that letter will now go to auction for a starting price set in the six figures.
Tupac wrote this “love letter” during January 1995, a month after he and Charles Fuller had been convicted on rape charges and incarcerated with a multimillion-dollar bail. The three-page note reads very apologetic, mainly because it’s pretty much a “can-we-just-be-friends”-style break-up letter. One of the most prominent points he makes about needing the break came down to race unsurprisingly enough. He writes, “…at the risk of sounding over dramatic, the effects of racism make it difficult for a young black man to properly show affection for an older white woman. Can U understand that?[sic]” He goes on to state that the idea of them basically being a ’90s power couple, him being a West Coast Rap King and her being the Queen of Pop, would’ve made her seem “open & exciting” while making him look as if he’s “letting down” the rap community that uplifted him to that status in the first place. The emotional note is clearly a stamp of decades-old music history, but whether or not it evades the privacy of two pop icons, or if its even worth the minimum of $100,000 USD overall, is still up for debate.
The auction for Tupac’s love note (i.e. “friendzone letter”) to Madonna will go live starting next Wednesday (July 17) over on GottaHaveRockAndRoll.com. Hear the duo’s unreleased remix of her ‘Bedtime Stories‘ album cut “I’d Rather Be Your Lover” below:
Following the release of theBeastie Boys Book in late 2018, Michael Diamond (aka Mike D) and Adam Horovitz (aka Ad-Rock) have been in the public eye. Since the book hit store shelves, the two MC/producers expounded on the Beasties’ bitter split with Def Jam, the group very nearly calling it quits in the late 1980s, and more. The two surviving members have deliberately included the legacy of Adam “MCA” Yauch, who died from cancer in 2012. His passion for music and life is a focal point of the book, and all the surrounding press. Most recently, Diamond and Horovitz attended Austin, Texas’ South By Southwest to host a keynote event for eager fans and industry heads yearning to hear Beastie Boy lore and deep cuts. Parts of that SxSW event saw Diamond and Horovitz speaking with Amazon Music’s Nathan Brackett to recognize a significant milestone that will land this Friday, May 31, 2019: the 25th-anniversary of their fourth studio album, Ill Communication. To commemorate the date, Amazon Music produced a documentary on the 1994 Capitol Records album. The Beastie Boys Book Is Nominated For AudioBook Of The Year The documentary begins by detailing the critically acclaimed but commercial failure that was Paul’s Boutique, following with the group’s move into playing their own instruments for their third studio album Check Your Head, before diving into Ill Communication and the infamous Spike Jonze-directed single that set-off the album’s inception, “Sabotage.” The documentary features Brackett, Diamond and Horovitz speaking on each album and their definitive aspects that add to Beastie Boys’ musical structure and artistic outlet as a group, as well as words from frequent-collaborator Mark “Money Mark” Nishita and producer Mario “C.” Caldato talking on the group’s progression as both artists and people during each album cycle. A notable piece within the doc mentions MCA’s lifestyle during the Ill Communication-era of The Beastie Boys, which Michael Diamond describes as “nomadic,” further explaining how the emcee embraced spiritualism and Eastern philosophies. Of course, the very feminist-forward set of bars MCA delivered on “Sure Shot” that was coolly unprecedented and humble were mentioned. The short, 9th verse rapped? “I want to say a little something that’s long overdue / The disrespect to women has got to be through / To all the mothers and the sisters and the wives and friends / I want to offer my love and respect to the end.” Those bars are mentioned extensively in the book, which many fans and peers took as an apology for lyrics in antics from the group in the mid-late 1980s. Ad-Rock Opens Up About The Beastie Boys’ Bitter Split From Def Jam The short documentary is also accompanied by a playlist titled Still Ill on Amazon Music, which is available to stream for Prime members. The playlist compiles the entirety of Ill Communication, remastered, with a track-by-track commentary provided by Diamond and Horovitz. The 1994 album featured collaborations with Q-Tip and Biz Markie, as well as the Beasties’ then DJ, Hurricane of The Afros.
April 5 is an interesting day in Hip-Hop music. Rarely is a rap record released on this day — we did the research, but feel free to prove us wrong! — but there was one influential LP that jumpstarted the careers of two Brownsville natives and competely shook the game up in 1994. Yes, we’re talking about the Mash Out Posse, who you may know better as M.O.P., and today we show them love as their debut album To The Death turns 25.
Select Street Records
Released on April 5, 1994, To The Death was yet another milestone in the domination that New York had on the rap game, with Lil’ Fame and Billy Danze both representing Brooklyn with the ruggedness and street appeal that shaped the attitude, look and overall sound of Hip-Hop at this time. The album itself was a precursor for rappers like Nas (Illmatic), Outkast (Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik), Da Brat (Funkdafied) and The Notorious B.I.G. (Ready to Die) amongst others that also debuted in 1994, with M.O.P. coming out swinging with three singles and a modest peak at #68 on the US Top R&B/Hip-Hop Albums chart.
The album was produced entirely by legendary East Coast rap producer and fellow Brownsville native DR Period, aside from the closing track “Guns N Roses” which was handled by Silver D and executive producer creds going to silent M.O.P. member Laze E Laze. The musical themes highlight the climate of life in hoods throughout America in the ’90s — gang violence, “fake ass gangstas,” staying fresh and just surviving the “rugged neva smoove” streets of New York City.
Of all the singles released off this shining debut, the highlight would of course be the anthem cut “How About Some Hardcore.” It was the most successful performance on the charts and amongst the hardest of Hip-Hop fans, peaking in the Top 40 on the US Hot Rap Songs chart at #36. For those that liked it raw, M.O.P. provided that effortlessly on this record with impressive lyricism, dope production and a tenacity to make it big that we’d see the duo accomplish even greater on the DJ Premier-produced follow up album and the 2001 smash hit “Ante Up (Remix).” And to think: all of this originated from a chance standout appearance on the soundtrack to House Party 3!
Happy 25th anniversary to M.O.P.’s debut album To The Death! Tell us your favorite tracks over on Facebook and Twitter after reading the original album review featured in The Source Magazine Issue No. 56 (May 1994) below:
Twenty-five years ago this month (March 8, 1994), Gang Starr released its fourth album, Hard To Earn. A rightful inclusion in one of the Rap genre’s most celebrated calendar years, the work displays some of the finest chemistry between Guru and DJ Premier, who had already galvanized a creative and personal bond worthy of its title. While the Chrysalis Records LP garnered some “Mass Appeal” in the subsequent quarter century, the two focused creators held tightly to their integrity on the album. This record satiated devoted fans, challenged peers, and punched critics right in the jaw.
During a crossroads for Rap music, an ever-evolving Gang Starr did not yield; they strutted through their pivot. This 25-year-old LP is molded with timeless wisdom, righteousness, and pride. Gang Starr knew the code of the streets, and warned all who didn’t take heed.
Hard To Earn has had a profound impact on the path of my life. A few years after release, its lyrics and music guided me through adolescence. It promoted style, swagger, courage, and authenticity in the face of posturing. Eventually, “The Planet” gave me the faith to uproot and chase a difficult dream under much bigger skylines. That path would lead me up the rickety elevator to D&D Studios nearly 17 years ago, to Gang Starr concerts, handfuls of conversations with Guru and DJ Premier, and ultimately, to writing this Ambrosia For Heads feature. This week, I spoke with Preemo about Hard To Earn, what was happening behind the scenes, and how these songs were reflections of an incredible time in Hip-Hop.
Ambrosia For Heads: “The Planet” is one of my favorite songs of all-time. On the vocal side, Guru tells the story of his journey and the sacrifice to make it happen in Hip-Hop. Musically, on that song, was that you telling the story of your journey?
DJ Premier: The subject matter is always first; I make the music match the subject. Guru always gives me the titles, and we’d type it out, stick it on the wall, and leave it there at the studio until we’d finish the album. We don’t go in any particular order, we just go. I always do the singles last. Whatever our first single’s gonna be…like for [Hard To Earn], he said “Mass Appeal” is gonna be it. And he puts little, short notes under the title. So it’ll say “Mass Appeal (our first single).” So I like to do that when the album’s pretty much done so [the single] sounds literally that new. And I’ve always followed that same map to this day. He’d even [note] our second single.
For “The Planet,” he [wrote] “My journey from Boston to New York, and makin’ it.” That’s what it said; I actually still have that paper. It’s really faded out, ’cause it’s printed out [from] the early copy machine. It reminded me of me leaving Texas and makin’ it. So he spoke for both of us.
AFH: I know it was “No More Mr. Nice Guy” from the very beginning, but from “Intro (The First Step)” to titling the album Hard To Earn, were you trying to send a statement of “don’t take our kindness for weakness”? That intro is a message that every artist trying to get on needs to hear…
DJ Premier: Oh, you’re talkin’ about the beginning of the album? We were both just goin’ through that. Like anywhere we’d go, people would always [push themselves]. At that time, we were living in Branford Marsalis’ brownstone; he’d moved to L.A. to be the music director for The Tonight Show With Jay Leno. So we were all living with him, his wife, and his son, temporarily until they moved. So all of us were in the house. Once [the neighborhood] found out that we lived there…this was right around the same time that we met Biggie. Because we’d always go down to the corner; we were all 40 [ounce beer] drinkers back then. We drank very heavily; we’d always see Biggie and all of his crew.
[We] shot the “Code Of The Streets” video on our stoop. Everybody was passin’ by. We shot it with Lionel Martin and Ralph McDaniels from Classic Concepts [and Video Music Box. So then] everybody knew that we lived there. And whenever we’d have a show, our whole crew pulls up. That is where [the concept to] “Soliloquy Of Chaos” came from because it was always the same routine, “Meet us at our house.” We’d get into the cars one by one by one, all with systems blasting, and we’d convoy to the gig.
With all of that, it just became so monotonous with people ringin’ our bell, unannounced, doin’, “Yo, my man raps, can you listen to him real quick?” It’s like, aight. It’d be horrible, then another guy would ring the bell. They’d want you to hear it right now. I mean, I still go through that to this day. Now, the only difference is, I’ll be in the barbershop in the hood and cats’ll take their phone and just put it right in my face, into my ear. I’m like, “Yo, I can’t listen to it like that. There ain’t gonna be no bass comin’ through.” They’ll be like, “Just listen to it a little bit.” It’s like, “No. You can send it to me.” I’ll give ’em the direct email to send the music and everything, but I’m not gonna listen to it on no phone. ‘Cause I don’t come from the phone era. I come from boom-boxes and driving cars—and I been driving cars since I was 11 years old. In Texas, we drive early.
But we were all tired of that sh*t. It comes with what we were doing. But when we’d see artists [in our early days], we’d just be like, “Yo man, love your sh*t”—wanted to say more, but I felt like I’d be sweatin’ ’em and d*ck-riding. So I’d always be like, “I’m comin’ out one day; you gonna see me.” I’d keep it that simple. Whether they believed me or not, that’s it. I didn’t want them to be like, “This guy’s annoying.”
AFH: I was 10 when the album dropped; I can’t front and say I bought Hard To Earn when it was brand new. It was a few years later. To me, “DWYCK” was always part of the album. You recently spoke to my man and former colleague Andreas Hale about how that song was intended to be added to Daily Operation. Twenty-five years later, how do you think “DWYCK” has become part of the fabric of Hard To Earn?
DJ Premier: It was gonna work no matter where we put that one. When it became such a huge hit for the summer of ’92, we got to witness it. At that time, we were still in the hood, in the projects and everything. We had our own crib, where Branford lived, obviously, but we’d still hang out in the projects with our friends that was still in the PJ’s. Drivin’ by, every car in the whole hood is blasting “DWYCK.” Like, majorly.
Again, the fact that it was supposed to be on Daily Operation and didn’t make it, I was like, “It’s gotta appear on some album.” It was an automatic [inclusion]. We got that many complaints from fans that would see us [and tell us they wanted it on CD]. Like, constantly. So we were like, “We gotta put it on Hard To Earn so on at least one of our Gang Starr albums, you can find it.”
AFH: You mentioned drinking a lot of 40 ounces. Was the way you were partying in the studio or elevating your minds any different on Hard To Earn than other albums?
DJ Premier: Nah, it was always like a frat house: girls, gettin’ high, gettin’ drunk, everybody passed out on the couch. I look at certain younger artists now [doing the same thing]. That’s just the scenario of a Rap singer. [Chuckles] But it was always [about] havin’ girls in there, ’cause you want to show off, “Yeah, yeah, we got a session today. You want to come? Oh yeah? Bring your girlfriends.” Even they’re excited, “Wow. Who knows who’s gonna be up in there?” Next thing you know you’ve three, four, five girls; five turns to 10. Next thing you know we’re partying there. Then it’s like, “Yo, let’s go to our house.” The party literally continues. We were 24 hours-Animal House, minus the destruction of tearing the place up. But a lot of things were broken: glass, bottles, all the time. And we’d do it again the next day after recovery from the hangover.
AFH: You mentioned the crew. The back cover of the album is great. It shows how Gang Starr looked and felt, like a gang of people. We think of Wu-Tang, Hammer’s entourage, Naughty By Nature. Obviously, you guys had always been like that. But at this point, Big Shug is on the album, Group Home, Jeru The Damaja—you’re touring with M.O.P. How did that entourage affect your confidence?
DJ Premier: Everybody was comin’ with their A-game. Group Home had “Supa Star.” It wasn’t a single [yet]; they weren’t signed yet to Payday [Records]. Jeru had “Come Clean” and [The Sun Rises In The East coming], so he was really making a lot noise in New York. Shug had just come out of prison. That’s why on “F.A.L.A.,” he says, “I did my time and now I’m free” you hear Guru [exclaim in the background]. We bought Shug a whole wardrobe of clothes; he’s just getting his feet back into the [Rap] game. He’s one of the founders of the group, so we were like, “We gotta work on demos until he gets tight.” When he spit that verse, it was, “Shug sounds dope!”
Guru did that [original beat]. I was like, “Give me the reel.” I just re-tweaked it to make it better sonically. Guru [had planned that] for either Ill Kid Records or Baldhead Slick. Guru always liked when I liked one of his tracks. He was like, “Yo, you like that?” I was like, “Yeah, we should put this on the album.” [He was really happy], because sometimes he’d think I’m not gonna like it ’cause he produced it. I’m like, “Dude…” Guru—all the time, my whole career, would wonder if I’d be against [something] ’cause it’s not produced by Premier. Nah, if it sounds good, I don’t front on anything. I don’t care if it’s somebody I don’t like. I don’t care if I don’t like you personally. The same thing with R. Kelly and [Michael Jackson]; I can’t abandon the music if the music’s good.
But [“F.A.L.A.”], I liked it off rip. I [just wanted to] mix it down and match the sonics of my tracks. Guru would usually produce one [song on every Gang Starr album], and it was usually a chick record. “She Knows What She Wantz,” he did that. On Group Home’s [Livin’ Proof], he did “Serious Rap Sh*t.” And Guru’s a good A&R; he has a good ear. He used to tell me what scratches to use.
AFH: Like two Hall Of Fame athletes on a championship team, the two were brothers and teammates, but I know that sometimes, in the moment creatively, you would have differences of opinion or tiffs or whatever. Did the times when you were frustrated with one another creatively make for better art?
DJ Premier: Um, I don’t think it really ever affected the music, because we would always get that in-sync with one another when we made joints. I even smoked crack and would do coke and everything else and it never changed me. We all did. We were all smokin’ woolas; we’re from the woola era. Like ’85-’86, not everybody but a lot of people in the industry were doing it. Even when I ask other artists, [they admit it]. I wasn’t a pipe smoker, I didn’t smoke the stem; we’d put it in a blunt. But it’s still crack. [Laughs] But it never affected my creativity either way. I’ve never been ashamed of anything I’ve ever done because it is what it is. You never saw me walkin’ around with my teeth missing, selling my equipment, or all skinny and falling apart. We looked normal, and we weren’t on it like that. It was more recreation—a new way of spiking your weed. I’m off of it, I been off it. You get to a point where you’re like, “This ride is over.” None of us had to worry about going to rehab or anything like that. It was never that serious. In the music business, drugs, sex, R0ck & Roll, it all goes with the same territory. Fighting [too]. We’d fight, punch each other, bloody lips. Even that stuff was normal, in my opinion, because I watched Sting talk about him and Stewart Copeland from The Police talk about getting off stage and throwing punches like, “F*ck you.” We’ve done the same thing. I never looked at like it was bad for us. Because every time another record had to get made there’s no way we could’ve made this group [last] seven albums [without tensions].
AFH: One of my favorite illustrations of your and Guru’s chemistry is “Brainstorm.” The way that he hits the rhythm of those drums–
DJ Premier: –I love that; that’s one of my favorites. I love that song so much! I wanted to show that I could use other sounds, besides Jazz, as samples, being that we were heavily on that for Daily Operation, and especially Step In The Arena. I would see so many [reviews] talking about how that’s all we do [and] make our beats from, I said, “Man, I’ma strip this album down and show I can use anything: alien sounds [and] weird space effects. That’s why with “Brainstorm,” you hear that weird effect. [Mimics the beat] It’s still effective. Even “Aight Chill” is just a drum beat and phone calls. I knew the Hip-Hop Heads would get it and the reviewers would not. They said the same thing on The Ownerz when Panchi from NYG’z did the “(Hiney)” skit. They said, “Premier must’ve ran out of ideas.” No, [they] didn’t get it ’cause you’re not a f*ckin’ true Head. [They were] one of those motherf*ckin’ fake wannabes, and I don’t acknowledge those people, man. I respect all, but they’re so in the way of understanding a culture.
We’re always creative, man. My creative juices have not faltered. I’ll be 53 next week, and my creative juices are still dynamically heavy. I’m always [thinking]. I’m still like that. Look man, my brain is…all the partying and sh*t—the drugs and drinkin’ I’ve done, I still function very, very normally. [Chuckles] And I give thanks everyday, man. As soon as I wake up, the first thing I said is, “thanks.” I’m glad to be alive and still be able to bang out this Rap sh*t. I love doing Hip-Hop joints, and I love still keeping it boom-bap style.
Twenty-five years ago this month (March 8, 1994), Gang Starr released its fourth album, Hard To Earn. A rightful inclusion in one of the Rap genre’s most celebrated calendar years, the work displays some of the finest chemistry between Guru and DJ Premier, who had already galvanized a creative and personal bond worthy of its title. While the Chrysalis Records LP garnered some “Mass Appeal” in the subsequent quarter century, the two focused creators held tightly to their integrity on the album. This record satiated devoted fans, challenged peers, and punched critics right in the jaw.
During a crossroads for Rap music, an ever-evolving Gang Starr did not yield; they strutted through their pivot. This 25-year-old LP is molded with timeless wisdom, righteousness, and pride. Gang Starr knew the code of the streets, and warned all who didn’t take heed.
Hard To Earn has had a profound impact on the path of my life. A few years after release, its lyrics and music guided me through adolescence. It promoted style, swagger, courage, and authenticity in the face of posturing. Eventually, “The Planet” gave me the faith to uproot and chase a difficult dream under much bigger skylines. That path would lead me up the rickety elevator to D&D Studios nearly 17 years ago, to Gang Starr concerts, handfuls of conversations with Guru and DJ Premier, and ultimately, to writing this Ambrosia For Heads feature. This week, I spoke with Preemo about Hard To Earn, what was happening behind the scenes, and how these songs were reflections of an incredible time in Hip-Hop.
Ambrosia For Heads: “The Planet” is one of my favorite songs of all-time. On the vocal side, Guru tells the story of his journey and the sacrifice to make it happen in Hip-Hop. Musically, on that song, was that you telling the story of your journey?
DJ Premier: The subject matter is always first; I make the music match the subject. Guru always gives me the titles, and we’d type it out, stick it on the wall, and leave it there at the studio until we’d finish the album. We don’t go in any particular order, we just go. I always do the singles last. Whatever our first single’s gonna be…like for [Hard To Earn], he said “Mass Appeal” is gonna be it. And he puts little, short notes under the title. So it’ll say “Mass Appeal (our first single).” So I like to do that when the album’s pretty much done so [the single] sounds literally that new. And I’ve always followed that same map to this day. He’d even [note] our second single.
For “The Planet,” he [wrote] “My journey from Boston to New York, and makin’ it.” That’s what it said; I actually still have that paper. It’s really faded out, ’cause it’s printed out [from] the early copy machine. It reminded me of me leaving Texas and makin’ it. So he spoke for both of us.
AFH: I know it was “No More Mr. Nice Guy” from the very beginning, but from “Intro (The First Step)” to titling the album Hard To Earn, were you trying to send a statement of “don’t take our kindness for weakness”? That intro is a message that every artist trying to get on needs to hear…
DJ Premier: Oh, you’re talkin’ about the beginning of the album? We were both just goin’ through that. Like anywhere we’d go, people would always [push themselves]. At that time, we were living in Branford Marsalis’ brownstone; he’d moved to L.A. to be the music director for The Tonight Show With Jay Leno. So we were all living with him, his wife, and his son, temporarily until they moved. So all of us were in the house. Once [the neighborhood] found out that we lived there…this was right around the same time that we met Biggie. Because we’d always go down to the corner; we were all 40 [ounce beer] drinkers back then. We drank very heavily; we’d always see Biggie and all of his crew.
[We] shot the “Code Of The Streets” video on our stoop. Everybody was passin’ by. We shot it with Lionel Martin and Ralph McDaniels from Classic Concepts [and Video Music Box. So then] everybody knew that we lived there. And whenever we’d have a show, our whole crew pulls up. That is where [the concept to] “Soliloquy Of Chaos” came from because it was always the same routine, “Meet us at our house.” We’d get into the cars one by one by one, all with systems blasting, and we’d convoy to the gig.
With all of that, it just became so monotonous with people ringin’ our bell, unannounced, doin’, “Yo, my man raps, can you listen to him real quick?” It’s like, aight. It’d be horrible, then another guy would ring the bell. They’d want you to hear it right now. I mean, I still go through that to this day. Now, the only difference is, I’ll be in the barbershop in the hood and cats’ll take their phone and just put it right in my face, into my ear. I’m like, “Yo, I can’t listen to it like that. There ain’t gonna be no bass comin’ through.” They’ll be like, “Just listen to it a little bit.” It’s like, “No. You can send it to me.” I’ll give ’em the direct email to send the music and everything, but I’m not gonna listen to it on no phone. ‘Cause I don’t come from the phone era. I come from boom-boxes and driving cars—and I been driving cars since I was 11 years old. In Texas, we drive early.
But we were all tired of that sh*t. It comes with what we were doing. But when we’d see artists [in our early days], we’d just be like, “Yo man, love your sh*t”—wanted to say more, but I felt like I’d be sweatin’ ’em and d*ck-riding. So I’d always be like, “I’m comin’ out one day; you gonna see me.” I’d keep it that simple. Whether they believed me or not, that’s it. I didn’t want them to be like, “This guy’s annoying.”
AFH: I was 10 when the album dropped; I can’t front and say I bought Hard To Earn when it was brand new. It was a few years later. To me, “DWYCK” was always part of the album. You recently spoke to my man and former colleague Andreas Hale about how that song was intended to be added to Daily Operation. Twenty-five years later, how do you think “DWYCK” has become part of the fabric of Hard To Earn?
DJ Premier: It was gonna work no matter where we put that one. When it became such a huge hit for the summer of ’92, we got to witness it. At that time, we were still in the hood, in the projects and everything. We had our own crib, where Branford lived, obviously, but we’d still hang out in the projects with our friends that was still in the PJ’s. Drivin’ by, every car in the whole hood is blasting “DWYCK.” Like, majorly.
Again, the fact that it was supposed to be on Daily Operation and didn’t make it, I was like, “It’s gotta appear on some album.” It was an automatic [inclusion]. We got that many complaints from fans that would see us [and tell us they wanted it on CD]. Like, constantly. So we were like, “We gotta put it on Hard To Earn so on at least one of our Gang Starr albums, you can find it.”
AFH: You mentioned drinking a lot of 40 ounces. Was the way you were partying in the studio or elevating your minds any different on Hard To Earn than other albums?
DJ Premier: Nah, it was always like a frat house: girls, gettin’ high, gettin’ drunk, everybody passed out on the couch. I look at certain younger artists now [doing the same thing]. That’s just the scenario of a Rap singer. [Chuckles] But it was always [about] havin’ girls in there, ’cause you want to show off, “Yeah, yeah, we got a session today. You want to come? Oh yeah? Bring your girlfriends.” Even they’re excited, “Wow. Who knows who’s gonna be up in there?” Next thing you know you’ve three, four, five girls; five turns to 10. Next thing you know we’re partying there. Then it’s like, “Yo, let’s go to our house.” The party literally continues. We were 24 hours-Animal House, minus the destruction of tearing the place up. But a lot of things were broken: glass, bottles, all the time. And we’d do it again the next day after recovery from the hangover.
AFH: You mentioned the crew. The back cover of the album is great. It shows how Gang Starr looked and felt, like a gang of people. We think of Wu-Tang, Hammer’s entourage, Naughty By Nature. Obviously, you guys had always been like that. But at this point, Big Shug is on the album, Group Home, Jeru The Damaja—you’re touring with M.O.P. How did that entourage affect your confidence?
DJ Premier: Everybody was comin’ with their A-game. Group Home had “Supa Star.” It wasn’t a single [yet]; they weren’t signed yet to Payday [Records]. Jeru had “Come Clean” and [The Sun Rises In The East coming], so he was really making a lot noise in New York. Shug had just come out of prison. That’s why on “F.A.L.A.,” he says, “I did my time and now I’m free” you hear Guru [exclaim in the background]. We bought Shug a whole wardrobe of clothes; he’s just getting his feet back into the [Rap] game. He’s one of the founders of the group, so we were like, “We gotta work on demos until he gets tight.” When he spit that verse, it was, “Shug sounds dope!”
Guru did that [original beat]. I was like, “Give me the reel.” I just re-tweaked it to make it better sonically. Guru [had planned that] for either Ill Kid Records or Baldhead Slick. Guru always liked when I liked one of his tracks. He was like, “Yo, you like that?” I was like, “Yeah, we should put this on the album.” [He was really happy], because sometimes he’d think I’m not gonna like it ’cause he produced it. I’m like, “Dude…” Guru—all the time, my whole career, would wonder if I’d be against [something] ’cause it’s not produced by Premier. Nah, if it sounds good, I don’t front on anything. I don’t care if it’s somebody I don’t like. I don’t care if I don’t like you personally. The same thing with R. Kelly and [Michael Jackson]; I can’t abandon the music if the music’s good.
But [“F.A.L.A.”], I liked it off rip. I [just wanted to] mix it down and match the sonics of my tracks. Guru would usually produce one [song on every Gang Starr album], and it was usually a chick record. “She Knows What She Wantz,” he did that. On Group Home’s [Livin’ Proof], he did “Serious Rap Sh*t.” And Guru’s a good A&R; he has a good ear. He used to tell me what scratches to use.
AFH: Like two Hall Of Fame athletes on a championship team, the two were brothers and teammates, but I know that sometimes, in the moment creatively, you would have differences of opinion or tiffs or whatever. Did the times when you were frustrated with one another creatively make for better art?
DJ Premier: Um, I don’t think it really ever affected the music, because we would always get that in-sync with one another when we made joints. I even smoked crack and would do coke and everything else and it never changed me. We all did. We were all smokin’ woolas; we’re from the woola era. Like ’85-’86, not everybody but a lot of people in the industry were doing it. Even when I ask other artists, [they admit it]. I wasn’t a pipe smoker, I didn’t smoke the stem; we’d put it in a blunt. But it’s still crack. [Laughs] But it never affected my creativity either way. I’ve never been ashamed of anything I’ve ever done because it is what it is. You never saw me walkin’ around with my teeth missing, selling my equipment, or all skinny and falling apart. We looked normal, and we weren’t on it like that. It was more recreation—a new way of spiking your weed. I’m off of it, I been off it. You get to a point where you’re like, “This ride is over.” None of us had to worry about going to rehab or anything like that. It was never that serious. In the music business, drugs, sex, R0ck & Roll, it all goes with the same territory. Fighting [too]. We’d fight, punch each other, bloody lips. Even that stuff was normal, in my opinion, because I watched Sting talk about him and Stewart Copeland from The Police talk about getting off stage and throwing punches like, “F*ck you.” We’ve done the same thing. I never looked at like it was bad for us. Because every time another record had to get made there’s no way we could’ve made this group [last] seven albums [without tensions].
AFH: One of my favorite illustrations of your and Guru’s chemistry is “Brainstorm.” The way that he hits the rhythm of those drums–
DJ Premier: –I love that; that’s one of my favorites. I love that song so much! I wanted to show that I could use other sounds, besides Jazz, as samples, being that we were heavily on that for Daily Operation, and especially Step In The Arena. I would see so many [reviews] talking about how that’s all we do [and] make our beats from, I said, “Man, I’ma strip this album down and show I can use anything: alien sounds [and] weird space effects. That’s why with “Brainstorm,” you hear that weird effect. [Mimics the beat] It’s still effective. Even “Aight Chill” is just a drum beat and phone calls. I knew the Hip-Hop Heads would get it and the reviewers would not. They said the same thing on The Ownerz when Panchi from NYG’z did the “(Hiney)” skit. They said, “Premier must’ve ran out of ideas.” No, [they] didn’t get it ’cause you’re not a f*ckin’ true Head. [They were] one of those motherf*ckin’ fake wannabes, and I don’t acknowledge those people, man. I respect all, but they’re so in the way of understanding a culture.
We’re always creative, man. My creative juices have not faltered. I’ll be 53 next week, and my creative juices are still dynamically heavy. I’m always [thinking]. I’m still like that. Look man, my brain is…all the partying and sh*t—the drugs and drinkin’ I’ve done, I still function very, very normally. [Chuckles] And I give thanks everyday, man. As soon as I wake up, the first thing I said is, “thanks.” I’m glad to be alive and still be able to bang out this Rap sh*t. I love doing Hip-Hop joints, and I love still keeping it boom-bap style.
One year ago today (March 12, 2018), the late-night news of Craig Mack’s passing felt like an essential piece of 1990s Rap fabric was ostensibly gone forever. The 47-year-old Long Island, New York representative died from natural causes. His legacy was connected to the genre’s elite from the genesis of his career as the EPMD-affiliated “MC EZ” through being Bad Boy Records’ first flagship artist. Meanwhile, like many 1980s and 1990s veterans, Craig Mack’s impact on the genre may have seemed lost in the mainstream discussion at the time of his passing. Although he periodically checked back in, just as he did on Erick Sermon’s “Come Thru” single in January of 2018, Craig had shrugged off the industry that, according to many, had already treated him poorly time and time again. He relocated to South Carolina, and tended to his faith. It was part of a personal and spiritual journey following a reportedly long and bumpy road since a perceived fallout with Combs and Bad Boy. However, even in places of worship, Craig Mack was undeniably an MC. Craig Mack Explains Why He Chose Redemption Over Revenge, In His Last Interview (Video) Sean “Puffy” Combs helped bring Mack to stardom with his gold-selling debut album Project: Funk Da Worldand platinum single “Flava In Your Ear” (including its blockbuster remix). Both the LP and single put Bad Boy in the driver’s seat for East Coast Hip-Hop’s resurgence, and Mack kick-started the steamroll for the brand on wax and in his music videos. However, during Bad Boy’s 1994 “Big-Mack” campaign, Biggie’s “Juicy” offering shifted attention, and fast. After parting ways with Bad Boy in the mid-’90s, Craig Mack did still make music. He followed with a sophomore album. Twenty years after that, he was said to be at work with Erick Sermon on more material at the time of his passing. Moving to the independent Scotti Bros./Street Life label for 1997’s Operation: Get Down, the spotlight on Craig Mack had dimmed by the industry standards, even if the talent had not. Erick Sermon Reveals The Real Reason Craig Mack Did Not Join The Bad Boy Reunion Tour By the June release, Biggie was murdered in Los Angeles three months prior. Apart from Puffy and Faith Evans, Bad Boy’s roster and sound already looked vastly different from its 1994 breakthrough. Much of Rap was changing its direction and content. Now working with Eric B. and a production ensemble including Johnny J (Tupac, Thug Life, Candyman) and Ty Fyffe (Wreckx-N-Effect, JAY-Z), and Prince Markie Dee (aka Mark Morales), Craig Mack still had clever bars and command with the microphone. Look no further than “Today’s Forecast,” a concept track and Fyffe production. Mack compares himself to a descriptive assortment of weather and natural disasters. “I’ma reign, reign forever / Rain like bad weather,” proclaims the MC. He likens his cold style to a Siberian tundra, his voice to thunder, and his delivery to a volcanic eruption. Twenty-one years later, fans would learn the truth in the statement. Craig’s delivery uses pauses and inflection to do exactly as he had during his captivating 1994 run. The love of Hip-Hop, concept, and rhyming had not changed. Only the industry and the platform had. A New Film Shows Craig Mack’s Career Ended Because Of His Bad Flava With Puffy & Biggie (Video) While Craig suggested being excluded from the party on this album, he refused to be bitter. Notably, Puffy’s rival, Suge Knight, had attempted to sign Mack to the fledgling Death Row East. After a series of events including Tupac’s death and Knight’s incarceration, that is not what happened. The label never happened as planned. Even so, Craig could have presumably secured other options. However, the 10-plus-year-veteran wanted creative control. He wanted to steer the engine. One year after Craig Mack’s death, Heads are still playing his music. An artist once mistaken for a one-hit-wonder is instead a symbol of Rap industry endurance, autonomy, and talent. From here to eternity, Craig’s raps will funk the world. Craig Mack Kicked 10 Minutes Of Freestyle Flavor In This Just Released 2000 VideoAdditional Reporting by Jake Paine.
Twenty-five years ago this season, OutKast released their first single, “Player’s Ball.” Big Boi and André 3000 had appeared on TLC’s remix to “What About Your Friends” as teenagers in 1992. Like that opportunity, “Player’s Ball” was birthed out of LaFace Records trying to cross-promote its fledgling Rap duo.
For the 1993 holiday, A LaFace Family Christmas would be one of many label compilations marketed to fans. TLC, Toni Braxton, and Usher were centerpieces on the 10 tracks, and rightfully so. On the cover with those three acts, as well as A Few Good Men, was ‘Kast, barely showing their faces under the big wreath graphic from Antonio “L.A.” Reid and Babyface’s imprint.
That was by design. Since the Tri-Cities High School students rapped before the run-out on TLC’s 12″, their label was reportedly not wowed by the group’s sound. “[L.A. Reid] was like, ‘Yeah, I think I like them, but I don’t think that they’re stars,” André 3000 recalled in the 2016 Netflix documentary, The Art of Organized Noize. Presumably, the Christmas compilation needed filler for the R&B ballads from buzzing vocalists. The label brass turned to ‘Kast’s producers to cook up something. As respected labels like Death Row, Tommy Boy, and Def Jam typically did, soundtracks were a place to test the waters, even if the prospects felt grim.
Veteran production trio Organized Noize was grooming OutKast, as they had been for some time. Ray Murray, Rico Wade, and Sleepy Brown were recording the teenagers’ vocals in Wade’s grandmother’s basement, affectionately remembered as The Dungeon. That’s when they got the call from LaFace. In 2012, Wade told Complex‘s Linda Hobbs, “[The] thing is, we don’t really f*ck with Christmas like that. That’s where we were at the time, we were on some, ‘Christmas is not one day out the year, it’s every day.’ For us, it was just about being realistic. People get caught up in the excitement of, ‘I got to buy this, I got to do this and that” and they lose they mind.” The hitmaker added, “I told OutKast, ‘We gotta do a Christmas, song but we’ll just talk about what we don’t do on Christmas, or what it means to us.’” He would later pinch a beat that partner Ray Murray had been work-shopping for a group called The Drip Drop to bring what Dre and Big wrote to life.
High Snobiety aggregated a MySpace interview back in 2016 that captured the reluctance in the studio. Wade says, “I thought, ‘How the f*ck are we gonna do a Christmas song? We’re a Rap group! How are we gonna get any respect?’” They did, simply by refusing to compromise.
As legend has it, a straightforward Christmas song called “Socks & Drawz” evolved into a present for what was to come in the form of “Player’s Ball.” The song made the Christmas compilation, as did a 55-second “Joy All Day” interlude oddly credited to the duo, despite its lack of a clear-cut connection to the group.
Although it holds back the red-and-green socks, scarves, and any mentions of mistletoe, “Players Ball” is a Christmas record at its core, especially on the compilation verse. One can hear it in the sleigh bell percussion of the song, and the opening line, “It’s beginning to look a lot like wha—.” The line is a sardonic contrast to the fairy-tale winter wonderlands and the Dirty South reality. That attitude holds through 3 Stacks’ verse, which references snow, “tis the season,” and “Silent Night.” He closes with that mantra, “You thought I’d break my neck, to help y’all deck the halls? / Oh naw, I got other means of celebratin’, I’m gettin blizzard at HoJo, I got that hoochie waitin’ I made it through another year can’t ask fo’ nothin much mo’/ It’s OutKast for the books I thought you knew so now you know.”
The Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik version finds ‘Dre stuttering and covering up some of the seasonal cues, as well as the mention of Christmas Day and chimneys in the chorus to prevent an excellent song from being pigeonholed.
In the second verse, Big Boi references the lack of a Christmas gift wish-list in his cold reality, after opening the bars with “Hallelujah, Hallelujah,” broken down into syllables. OutKast took an assignment and made art out of it. Big and ‘Dre did not do what so many rappers in their position would have—just tried at another come-and-go record to appease the label and built-in fanbase. Instead, they went big and bold. They stayed true to the notion that not all Christmases are white, plentiful, and happy. This realness resonated, in a way that made a Christmas record sound hot in the middle of an Atlanta summer.
The song, serviced as a single in November of 1993, would take on a life of its own. The record superseded filler on a predictable label compilation and became the first taste of a game-changing 1994 album, Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik. Puff Daddy directed the video that left the Santa hats and wreaths at home. That release began an album-run as historic as any in Hip-Hop.
Twenty-five years ago this season, OutKast released their first single, “Player’s Ball.” Big Boi and André 3000 had appeared on TLC’s remix to “What About Your Friends” as teenagers in 1992. Like that opportunity, “Player’s Ball” was birthed out of LaFace Records trying to cross-promote its fledgling Rap duo.
For the 1993 holiday, A LaFace Family Christmas would be one of many label compilations marketed to fans. TLC, Toni Braxton, and Usher were centerpieces on the 10 tracks, and rightfully so. On the cover with those three acts, as well as A Few Good Men, was ‘Kast, barely showing their faces under the big wreath graphic from Antonio “L.A.” Reid and Babyface’s imprint.
That was by design. Since the Tri-Cities High School students rapped before the run-out on TLC’s 12″, their label was reportedly not wowed by the group’s sound. “[L.A. Reid] was like, ‘Yeah, I think I like them, but I don’t think that they’re stars,” André 3000 recalled in the 2016 Netflix documentary, The Art of Organized Noize. Presumably, the Christmas compilation needed filler for the R&B ballads from buzzing vocalists. The label brass turned to ‘Kast’s producers to cook up something. As respected labels like Death Row, Tommy Boy, and Def Jam typically did, soundtracks were a place to test the waters, even if the prospects felt grim.
Veteran production trio Organized Noize was grooming OutKast, as they had been for some time. Ray Murray, Rico Wade, and Sleepy Brown were recording the teenagers’ vocals in Wade’s grandmother’s basement, affectionately remembered as The Dungeon. That’s when they got the call from LaFace. In 2012, Wade told Complex‘s Linda Hobbs, “[The] thing is, we don’t really f*ck with Christmas like that. That’s where we were at the time, we were on some, ‘Christmas is not one day out the year, it’s every day.’ For us, it was just about being realistic. People get caught up in the excitement of, ‘I got to buy this, I got to do this and that” and they lose they mind.” The hitmaker added, “I told OutKast, ‘We gotta do a Christmas, song but we’ll just talk about what we don’t do on Christmas, or what it means to us.’” He would later pinch a beat that partner Ray Murray had been work-shopping for a group called The Drip Drop to bring what Dre and Big wrote to life.
High Snobiety aggregated a MySpace interview back in 2016 that captured the reluctance in the studio. Wade says, “I thought, ‘How the f*ck are we gonna do a Christmas song? We’re a Rap group! How are we gonna get any respect?’” They did, simply by refusing to compromise.
As legend has it, a straightforward Christmas song called “Socks & Drawz” evolved into a present for what was to come in the form of “Player’s Ball.” The song made the Christmas compilation, as did a 55-second “Joy All Day” interlude oddly credited to the duo, despite its lack of a clear-cut connection to the group.
Although it holds back the red-and-green socks, scarves, and any mentions of mistletoe, “Players Ball” is a Christmas record at its core, especially on the compilation verse. One can hear it in the sleigh bell percussion of the song, and the opening line, “It’s beginning to look a lot like wha—.” The line is a sardonic contrast to the fairy-tale winter wonderlands and the Dirty South reality. That attitude holds through 3 Stacks’ verse, which references snow, “tis the season,” and “Silent Night.” He closes with that mantra, “You thought I’d break my neck, to help y’all deck the halls? / Oh naw, I got other means of celebratin’, I’m gettin blizzard at HoJo, I got that hoochie waitin’ I made it through another year can’t ask fo’ nothin much mo’/ It’s OutKast for the books I thought you knew so now you know.”
The Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik version finds ‘Dre stuttering and covering up some of the seasonal cues, as well as the mention of Christmas Day and chimneys in the chorus to prevent an excellent song from being pigeonholed.
In the second verse, Big Boi references the lack of a Christmas gift wish-list in his cold reality, after opening the bars with “Hallelujah, Hallelujah,” broken down into syllables. OutKast took an assignment and made art out of it. Big and ‘Dre did not do what so many rappers in their position would have—just tried at another come-and-go record to appease the label and built-in fanbase. Instead, they went big and bold. They stayed true to the notion that not all Christmases are white, plentiful, and happy. This realness resonated, in a way that made a Christmas record sound hot in the middle of an Atlanta summer.
The song, serviced as a single in November of 1993, would take on a life of its own. The record superseded filler on a predictable label compilation and became the first taste of a game-changing 1994 album, Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik. Puff Daddy directed the video that left the Santa hats and wreaths at home. That release began an album-run as historic as any in Hip-Hop.
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