"""Many Tribe fans consider the band’s next album, 1993’s Midnight Marauders, to be its magnum opus. But you don’t arrive at the perfect nocturnal LP without first releasing a focused work like The Low End Theory, which winnowed the colorful expanse of People’s Instinctive Travels into a seamless listen. The Low End sounds minimal in comparison and is a mostly drum’n’bass record of subtle bells and whistles. Tribe represented freedom, and some 30 years after The Low End Theory, it’s still a sonic marvel and one of the best hip-hop albums of all-time."" "
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Released in December 2007, The Big Doe Rehab was a technical commercial success at the time, but it endures spiritually as an essential title in Ghostface Killah's own expansive, 13-album discography, let alone his larger body of work with other artists. While every Wu member’s solo project inevitably serves as a stage for the Clan, with The Big Doe Rehab, the spotlight never leaves Ghostface Killah in the dark, even with so many other big-name players entering and exiting — a level of artistry that could only be achieved by one of hip-hop’s top dart spitters.
While fighting through label limbo and placing his budding film career on freeze, Antwan “Big Boi” Patton spent a couple years readying the artillery for his solo close-up. Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty is both a testament to the maturation of Big Boi and a tribute to his late father; underneath, it’s a speakeasy at breakneck speed, sittin’ on 32s. Where many other formidable MCs would be eaten alive, Big Boi shapeshifts across every mood and landscape with his trademark tenacity. He’s an effortless showboat who can portray sleaze with ease, but he’s a true class act who’s got nothing left to prove, yet will never let it show. Flanked by his known co-conspirators and many more, Big Boi blesses the senses the way only an East Point playboy can; it’s an intergenerational time warp, and another funky ride in HD. The final product is a natural progression of his Organized Noize lineage, sent across dimensions to return with an assemblage of time-tested potent Black grooves, then pressure-cooked in the kitchen of thefinest booty club in Georgia.
An 18-year-old faced with the daunting task of creating a debut that lived up to the hype that only heightened during his hiatus, Earl Sweatshirt didn’t buckle under the pressure or rely only on the old tricks; he reinvented himself. More focused even in its messiness, Doris is a well-timed candid capturing one of the most brilliant hip-hop artists of our time making the first steps toward becoming the rapper he wanted to be.
"‘I Never Loved a Man the Way I Love You’ runs the stylistic gambit without feeling Franklin is doing things just for show. The album isn’t trying to function as a resumé of her skills. Genre shifts feel organic and natural. “Don’t Let Me Lose This Dream” is built on a bossa nova groove, while “Do Right Woman Do Right Man” has a little country ballad flavor. “Dr Feelgood (Love Is A Serious Business)”—one of four songs penned by Franklin herself—is a bluesy belter. She might have been Queen of the genre, but pigeonholing Franklin in soul is like calling Sugar Ray Leonard just a welterweight. She could shuffle through styles as smooth as velvet. Everything is stamped with her own distinct character."
Acony Records proudly presents the debut album from Old Crow Medicine Show, available for the first time on vinyl. O.C.M.S. was originally recorded on analog tape at Woodland Sound Studios in Nashville, TN, and includes some of Old Crow’s most enduring songs, like “Take ‘Em Away”, “CC Rider,” and the platinum selling “Wagon Wheel.” The album, originally produced by David Rawlings, has been lovingly mastered for vinyl on Rawlings’ custom Ortofon amplifiers to a Neumann VMS-80 cutting system, plated and pressed at the all new Paramount Plating and Pressing in Denver, CO., and is presented in a deluxe gatefold package from Stoughton Printing.
"?Released in the spring of 1989, Gang Starr’s debut album, No More Mr. Nice Guy, arrived right at the crucial intersection of the old school and golden age of New York rap. You cannot begin to discuss New York rap lineage without drawing a line through the first decade of Gang Starr. Should history be corrected to appropriately acknowledge Gang Starr’s influence and brilliance, it will need an origin story. No More Mr. Nice Guy is that saga. It’s a hard ridge in a changing landscape, the sound of everything shifting, the kernel of greatness germinating. It is Guru and Preemo. Preemo and Guru. An essential title not just for what it would lead to, but because of what it is."
From the moment Kamaal The Abstract begins, it’s evident that this is Tip at his most free and vulnerable, musically, up until that point. Most songs transform into (and end in) extended jams or have solos sprinkled throughout (or both). Jazz serves as the base, with Tip and his band using its colorful and intricate chord progressions to explore funk, rap, rock, R&B and soul — sometimes all on the same song. The album is an artistic statement that’s just as musically bold as it is conflicted, with a playful Tip at the center of it all, just trying to find freedom through music.
When the Beat Konducta and his trusty alter ego link up for the sequel, another southern California blunt cruise ensues. The Adventures Of Lord Quas consists of a slow ride through the deepest corners of the crate, leaving no genre unearthed until it claims space in the haze of one’s imagination. It’s business as unusual: Madlib funnels his most twisted impulses and comedic sensibilities into a sonic slacker flck complete with good dope, bottom-shelf liquor, and a penchant for gazing mouth agape into the great unknown. But he knows Lord Quas like a good needle on wax, and they casually strut through the loops, much ado about frontin’. (Not like fake shit ain’t a big deal, but it ain’t a big enough deal.) This record captures Madlib and his id at their most frantic, indulgent, and often confusing; they trade neatness for chaos, continuity for collage in a barrage of the finest sounds this side of the B-side. It’s hip-hop that takes every visible risk, often striking gold and proving how in control the Loop Digga truly is. Don’t hit it too hard, your other selves might pay you a visit.
Reloading, revamping, reinstalling - we've peered under the hood of last year's singles, Your Life and Take It, and decided they required the peak-time-remix-alignment. While Your Life's refix was self-inflicted by Patrick, Take It required the expertise of frequent collaborator Physical Therapy. Both reworks maintain the originals' essence, while bringing higher BPMs, weightier subs, and jacked up percussion to the table. Test driven during the summer of '24, this package is ready to rip.
By All Means Necessary is often discussed like it’s some departure from Criminal Minded. The moment KRS turned into “The Teacha” and became a politically minded, socially conscious wordsmith. In reality, this is who he already was. Misunderstanding and tragedy is what compelled him to not only refocus on the role he wanted to play in hip-hop, but create an album that gave way to a very important movement in hip-hop, too.
By All Means Necessary is an essential and definitive BDP and KRS album. It marks the moment where KRS wasn’t just concerned with being a great emcee but a teacher, too, continuing his exploration of sociopolitical subjects on BDP’s following three albums, as well as throughout his solo career.
…Into a Real Thing is the first record David Porter produced by himself, and it sounds like an important checkpoint in the invention of progressive R&B as a genre, an album that bent the space-time continuum around R&B and willed it into something new altogether. It’s in conversation with Isaac Hayes’ own output of the era — Hot Buttered Soul especially — but where Hayes blew up the R&B form by throwing a bomb into it, helping create funk in the process, Porter worked more firmly in R&B’s space to build something new from within. …Into a Real Thing is a six-song powerhouse that manages to cram an 11-minute cover of a garage rock hit by the guy who’d later write Hulk Hogan’s entrance song alongside gut-bucket ballads with intricate string arrangements, and metaphorical tracks that compare grocery delivery to lovemaking. Its 33 minutes feel more like a fever dream than most other collections of 33 minutes.
What we hear on SICK! is the most realized version of Earl to date: a man with the same wandering spirit as before, but with a newfound command of his celebrity. This Earl is far more serene and grounded in who he really is. You feel his curiosity when speaking with him; his thoughts tend to land broadly and touch on everything from African literature to spiritual jazz and ’90s hip-hop before centering on himself. When asked to unpack his own narrative, he tends to speak in terms of we and not I, leaning on the group aesthetic to explain his own rise. The emphasis isn’t surprising, given Earl’s recent love of fellowship, but for an artist who made his name as a loner, his optimism is refreshing to hear. For an album born out of seclusion, SICK! is a moving ode to evolution. As always, Earl is a testament to the healing powers of honesty and self-awareness.
Before she's a singer, she's an activist. Elaine Brown was commissioned to sing the album Until We're Free by Black Panther Party founder and Minister of Defense, Huey P. Newton. While she only ever recorded two albums, their impacts were monumental and their soulful sounds reached many.
By 1973, Herbie Hancock already had both feet planted firmly in the future — some 50 years based on the vast, electronic funk he crafted during this period. How could he have known that this music would soundtrack block parties in the ‘80s and give ground to a burgeoning hip-hop culture? How could a man so steeped in the history of jazz be so untethered to form and genre that he created a sound all his own? Did he envision a world much like we’re living in now, where smartphones dictate our lives and musical compositions co-mingle without adherence to artificial marketing terms? Herbie likely wasn’t that prescient, but I wouldn’t doubt his genius. Based on the interplanetary trance funk of Sextant, his 11th studio album, such foresight wouldn’t be surprising. Then and always, Herbie was the master of the road less traveled. He was the light guiding his peers where they needed to go.
"On August 26, 1965, we find John Coltrane and his quartet recording at RCA Victor Studios on 24th Street in Manhattan. In the tunes tracked for Sun Ship, we hear Coltrane revisiting ground he had covered in the past with heightened sensitivity and a deepened interest in timbre. Sun Ship is a portrait of Coltrane’s most important band during his most important year, and while it’s sometimes overlooked in Coltrane’s discography — probably because it was released posthumously — it’s a crucial document for understanding what this band had accomplished, and it also offers a glimpse of why Coltrane moved beyond it. He needed to be in places where he was less sure of himself."
“The Coup’s second album, 1994’s Genocide & Juice, was an emboldened level-up from their first full length. While early Coup material had moments that blossomed on later efforts, Genocide & Juice was where those ideas deepened, becoming more pronounced as their catalog grew. Production wise, it’s replete with colorful samples, thorough skits and big bass, a perfect intersection of ’90s sample-based ingenuity and West Coast funk.
Genocide & Juice is mainly two things: neighborhood tales and unapologetic worldviews bound with fisted activism — made by the group’s core members at the time — Riley, Pam the Funkstress and E-Roc. But there are voices and sound effects woven throughout that give it more texture. Killer production that was able to sound both clearly professional while retaining its edge. At a concise 14 tracks, this album is one of the best sophomore efforts by any group, in any genre.”
Back to Back captures the instrumental aspect of the ’67 Stax-Volt European tour (“Volt” is the name of Stax’s subsidiary label). Immediately apparent is that the live versions of these songs are played much faster than the recorded ones. Exuberant? Definitely! These folks were racing across unfamiliar cultures and landscapes, reimagining their place in this world, looking down at the clouds for the first time. The pace was faster because their lives were — quickly — getting so much larger. In these recordings, you can hear all of that emotional exhilaration, all of that savoring of personal respect, that thrill of the new. Many of these songs were several years old, but they shine on Back to Back like they’re being performed for the first time. Over and over, you hear the musicians throwing in something extra, curlicues and tangents that express their excitement.




















