After August 8th, 1994, the rap game was never the same. “Juicy,” The Notorious B.I.G.’s lazy tale of makin’ it over a smooth Mtume sample, went on to sell 500,000 copies by November and started an entire hip hop movement, the remnants of which can still be seen today.
Biggie went on rule both charts and radio waves, and started all kinds of drama along the way, beginning with his flagrant affairs, continuing with his West coast rivalries, and ending with his 1997 murder, just a little over three years after it all began.
But earlier this year, Biggie’s been spotted online, commenting on blogs here and there, and gaining over 225 followers on his Twitter account. Is he alive? That’s not for us to ask; the question is too weighty. But what is for us to ask is this: what the hell has he been doing in the last 11 years?
Investigative reporter Aaron Matthews is on the case.
Do you know what December brings out in me? No, it’s not my Christmas Tree earrings. It’s my hella rude attitude. I know I should be rockin the Santa hat and baking you some damn cookies, but honestly, all I want to do is drink with some of my folks, and hear some Christmas-free joints.
So for you, the Morebounce crüe, here are the most anti-holiday jammies I’m bumpin right now:
Missy Elliot The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly) Supa Dupa Fly, 1997
Dark, bass-heavy and a little confusing. Has nothing to do with Santa or fruitcake.
Public Enemy I Can’t Do Nuttin’ for Ya Man Fear of a Black Planet, 1990
I am actually not a Public Enemy fan. But the thought of Flava Flav in any capacity puts me in just the right no-holiday spirit.
Statik Selektah Bam Bam Spell My Name Right, 2007
Not really sure why I love this right now. It’s not really anything different from anything else out there, but one thing I know for sure: it doesn’t have Paul McCartney or a single jingle bell in it.
Riskay Smell Yo Dick Single, 2007
Not only does it have absolutely no references to trees, snow or ice skating, this song is brilliant in every way. I will listen to it well into the Easter season.
The stars are aligning, and somewhere Teddy Riley is smiling down from above. Okay, he’s not dead, but still.
I am telling you people, New Jack Swing is coming back. And when it gets here, you know I will be rocking the wire round flip-up glasses, one-pant-leg-up, overalls look. If you’re out in the club, you will know me by my high kicks on the dance floor.
CH-CH…CH-CH-CH!
Another Bad Creation Playground Coolin’ At The Playground Ya’ Know, 1991
Little homies should have named themselves “Another FRESH Creation!” They had everything: BBD sangin’ hooks, swingin’ beats at the playground, and they gotta break, ’cause they mother said “be home by dizzark!” By the way, I did not make up that album name.
L.L. Cool J Jingling Baby Walking with a Panther, 1989
This is an actual instructional song about how to do the damn thing. Ladies, get them door knockers out, ’cause we about to make ‘em jingle!
U.M.C.’s Blue Cheese Fruits of Nature, 1991
I have no idea what this song is about. Seriously. I can’t understand a word of it. CH-CH…
Kid N Play Do the Kid N Play Kick Step 2 Hype, 1988
When it comes to the New jack Swing movement, this is the sacred dance, created by the high priests. You cannot have New Jack without Kid N Play, pure and simple.
U P D A T E !
Delicious has convinced me to post two of NJS’s basics. I had posted them before, but since that boy is sweet as a butterscotch biscuit, here they are:
Wrecks N Effect New Jack Swing 12″, 1988
The original, the classic. Yes, T.R., is his name.
Bobby Brown Don’t Be Cruel Don’t Be Cruel, 1988
Probably the best known NJS song ever. If you want to be historically accurate, do the car-driving pantomime to this one. Not to be confused with smoking crack and living in your car - do not confuse the artist with his art.
I don’t know about y’all, but my ’90s years were badass. I was broke as hell, rocked crazy hair and spent all my time and money on music and drankin. Pretty much a dream life.
And one of my favorite things to do was hop in the Geo Metro, pick up my girls and bump some gangsta shit. We’d pop in a tape, crank down the windows (manually), let the wind slap through our jheri curls, and kick the hydraulics on the whip.
And we looked nice. We didn’t spend half the day at Contempo Casuals to look like scrubs, y’all. Let’s just say when we rolled up in the Metro, the fellas made themselves known. And as soon as they heard some of the cuts we were droppin’, they were on a sister like khakis on Dre.
Steady Mobbin’ is not just the name of a jam, it’s a way of life.
MC Breed Ain’t No Future in Yo Frontin’ MC Breed & DFC, 1991
This was my JAY-UM! All I ever wanted was to shine it up good/kick it through my neighborhood/Motorola phone, fat rims and a Kenwood. Still makes me say “ooo-wee!” today.
Ice Cube Steady Mobbin’ Death Certificate, 1991
Look, I know this song is homophobic and talks openly about both pooping and feminine hygiene products. It’s offensive on many levels. But oh damn, that beat is slammin!
Warren G Regulate Regulate…G Funk Era, 1994
This was the slow jam we turned to when we wanted to get a little quiet and maybe share a 40 with that special ruffneck.
WC and the Maad Circle Feat. Ice Cube and Mack 10 West Up! Curb Servin’, 1995
Is there a joint more west coast than this? I will throw up the “W” to this day. Motherf*cker, west UP!
What’s with all the young’uns remaking “Buddy?” These days, it seems like you can’t even walk the two blocks to the Disco Fever without hearing someone bumping a “Buddy” remix in their Gremlin. I’m making that up. I live at least three blocks from the Disco Fever. In my head.
The Heavy D remix is kind of nice, but Musiq Soulchild’s voice is a dead ringer for child molester/scat enthusiast R. Kelly’s. Also, “Musiq Soulchild” is up there with “N’Sync” in the dumbass name hall of fame.
Of course nothing comes close to the original, but it’s nice to see such a great track resurrected. Opinions?
De La Soul Buddy (Native Tongue Decision) 12″, 1989 The original. Possibly the most perfect representation of what can happen when you put together the Native Tongues, a Disco break, and that ’80s “do who ya like, just wear a jimmy cap” vibe. Queen Latifah, that’s my lady right there. Not like that, pervs.
Musiq Soulchild Feat. Heavy D Buddy (Remix) 2007 He had me at “diddley.”
Musiq Soulchild Feat. Fat Joe and Ja Rule Buddy (Remix) 2007 Altogether too much spelling up in here. I’m not a four-year-old trying not to go to B-E-D, people. Just spit your damned rhymes.
Musiq Soulchild Feat. Lupe Fiasco Buddy (Remix) 2007 I thought Lupe was supposed to be all indie and shit? Oh well, ain’t nothin’ goin’ on but the rent, I guess.
Taana Gardner Heartbeat 12″, 1981 Classic disco from seminal label West End Records. Nice and lazy. Also the backbone to every “Buddy” incarnation.
I know I have a problem. I know that New Jack Swing isn’t real dance music, and Swing Beat isn’t real hip hop. True, authentic hip hop is much more artistic, thoughtful, and um… more raw… or something? Anybody… ?
But look! I am only one woman here. Do you really expect me to resist the bouncy, funky kick of a Heavy D jam? And really, it’s not that corny - there’s James Brown samples up in there. That’s kind of legit, right? No? Okay, what about this: the Overweight Lover had a badass crew. I mean, he rolled with Pete Rock, Puffy, Biggie, Mary J., and Teddy Riley. I lost you on the Teddy Riley, didn’t I.
Fine. All y’all can sit up there in your Air Force Ones, rocking your Paid in Full with your folks up in Brooklyn. I’ll be right here doing the running man in my Hammer pantz.
Heavy D. and the Boyz Mr. Big Stuff (Remix) Living Large, 1987 Diddley D’s first hit. Impossibly catchy, with that tch-tch-tch sound that was about two years before its peak in 1989. Bonus cowbell at the bridge.
We Got Our Own Thang Big Tyme, 1989 You know if Puffy’s anywhere near the studio, he’s sho nuff gonna get up in your song. I don’t know if this one would have ever sounded so fresh without Uptown’s Most Famous Intern mumbling something about being ready to “drop it.” Dag, that brother needs to go take a bathroom break once in a while!
However! “We Got Our Own Thang” is ridiculous smooth, and it has the holy psalm of New Jack Swing breaks, the Godfather’s Funky President (People It’s Bad). So you know it’ll make you kick step like it’s 1990.
More Bounce Big Tyme, 1989 Not >bounce/oz’s inspiration, but close. This joint sits on a damn Ritz.
Example! I always thought Tap the Bottle was the straight jammie, ever since the old Detroit days, when the Shelter bumped the hell out of it every Saturday.
And then I heard it yesterday, for the first time in 10 years. Dag, yo. Young Black Teenagers needed to stay in the ’90s, on the real. Never mind the overt racism in the group’s name (none of them were actually black), every fast-rap-high-whistle clich\351 is packed into one damned song!
But what of that sweaty dance floor, jumping with drunk-ish urbanites, all calling out for us to “twist the cap!”? Was that all a lie, too? Def Stef, were you just mocking us every time you dropped this record? I’m afraid it’s true. We were all played.
Young Black Teenagers Tap the Bottle Dead Enz Kidz Doin’ Lifetime Bidz, 1993
And just for good measure, another joint that used to bump the horribly misguided dance floor:
Kid Rock Wax the Booty Grits Sandwiches for Breakfast, 1990
The other night, my son asked me: “Mom, why did Biggie die?” He’d been playing with his new muse and my favorite Christmas gift, a Biggie action figure, while listening to Hypnotize.
Honestly, I wasn’t sure how to answer him. Not just because I have no idea how to explain homicide to a five year old, but because damn. Why did Biggie have to die?
For a 24 year old with just two albums, he left an incredibly fat mark on hip hop that’s visible even now, almost 10 years later. At the time his first album dropped in 1994, the west coast had cornered the hardcore rap market, and Ready to Die instantly drew the spotlight back to hip hop’s birthplace (I’m referring to New York here, so all you Bronx vs. Brooklyn battlers can ease up).
With help from Big Daddy Kane producer Easy Mo Bee, DJ Premier and Puffy, Biggie released two critical and commercial successes. He had a deceptively thick drawl that somehow still carried some of the most complex and clever lyrics this side of Nas. But before he got signed, Biggie was a straight up crack dealer, so you know his gang banging rhymes were authentic. Critics love that shit. And the records blew up because Puffy made sure they made an ass shake.
The big man himself had a carefully crafted persona that made him seem genuinely frightening and vulnerable at the same time. At the same time he wrote in horrifying and bleak detail about his life in the streets, he called himself ugly and a piece of shit; an Oreo cookie eatin’, pickle juice drinkin’, greasy motherfucker. But if that drama was too much for you, you could just skip to the next song - you couldn’t get a hotter, more funkily satisfying joint than Hypnotize or Big Poppa.
I’d like to think that if Biggie had lived, he might have given us a couple more of those jams. Or at least kept Diddy too busy to release Press Play.
Why did he die? “He died in a car accident, honey.”
Charlie continued playing with Biggie. “That’s okay. He’s still part of our family.”
Machine Gun Funk Juicy Unbelievable One More Chance (Remix feat. Mary J. Blige and Faith Evans) Ready to Die, 1994
Crazy smooth production, with soul and funk beats galore. Check Unbelievable, made up entirely of a hook from Patrice Rushen’s Remind Me.
Going Back to Cali Ten Crack Commandments Life After Death, 1997
The sound gets harder on this album, though it stays slick. The stripped-down Ten Crack Commandments makes me want to bounce the booty while watching Tron.
Almost 14 years ago, Sean “Puffy” Combs released a single from his latest protegé, a chubby rapper with a wicked wit who sounded like he was talking into a jar. Four days earlier, the MC with the ever-present Kangol and the sad eyes married his girlfriend of two weeks, and was still itching to sell crack, a routine he’d taken up in order to support his two year old daughter.
Do you know what December brings out in me? No, it’s not my 
VH1 Soul has declared October 6th through 8th 
I don’t know about y’all, but my ’90s years were badass. I was broke as hell, rocked crazy hair and spent all my time and money on music and drankin. Pretty much a dream life.
The other night, my son asked me: “Mom, why did Biggie die?” He’d been playing with his new muse and my favorite Christmas gift, a Biggie action figure, while listening to 
How crabby am I?