Back in the ’80s I had a friend tell me he saw the “coldest” MC ever on Soul Train. He went on and on about the guy’s generalship on the mic. Whatever, I thought. You see, at the time I was a huge fan of east coast lyricists. I knew them all well. As far as I was concerned, DMC was king. End of Argument.
A few weeks went by and my friend came running into our house yelling at me to turn on Soul Train. They were about to re-run the show with the “cold” MC. Better than DMC? Get Serious.
We pop the set on and watched Don Cornelius give dry introductions to FM-friendly songs. During station breaks we laughed our asses off at silly Classic Curl commercials by Johnson Products. Most of them featured couples with ridiculously greasy jheri curls taking turns finger twirling each other’s do. Have you ever touched a Jheri Curl? I have. Your hands look as if you spent the afternoon trying to remove a stubborn oil pan. Why anyone would think this look was sexy is a mystery best explored by decorated academics.
The time finally came. About 15 or 20 minutes into the show, Don, in classic stone-face form, through the stage to the MC and his DJ. When the set ended, my view of rap matured. DMC, for all his gifts, would relinquish the thrown. A light had been turned on to welcome a new way of thinking toward lyricism.
Enter Rakim.
We became devoted followers to the man who would later become the “God MC.” Everything, and I mean everything, Eric B. and Rakim produced was dissected by us. Rakim’s cinematic storytelling dipped in prophesy grabbed us. His writing broke through the clutter with the aid of an unfamiliar component. The binding element: flow. Now, keep in mind, flow wasn’t a part of the rap lexicon at the time. He was just “the shit” to us. Sure, we knew his oratory had rhythm as others. but unlike simply being rhythmic, flow is the melding of muscular language with music. It’s when you’re not concerned with matching words at the end of lines for the purpose of similarity of sound. Masters of the craft can massage the english language into submission, adjusting tone and delivery to create a certain mood. It makes their compositions more muscular, pulling you into the MCs place in the world. When Rakim told us in the timeless In the Ghetto, “I learned to relax in my room and escape from New York and return through the womb of the world as a thought”, you were within those four walls absorbing the experience with him.
I guess when I heard Rakim would release The Seventh Seal I got pumped over the chance of some of the current top-selling rappers who claim to love him to try harder. Or maybe, just maybe, TSS would inspire a burgeoning lyricist to do something different, shake the community. Many rappers have come along with elevated lyrics since Rakim. You know the few. But today the radio is flooded with hook-driven songs. I’m not one to get steamed over what’s real Hip Hop and what’s not. Every style has a place. Times Change. You accept it. Hopefully, rap is cyclical. A new MC will eventually arrive to touch the intellect. I only have one thing to say to kid in the future who will run into his buddy’s house to tell him about the innovative MC: Rakim is King. End of argument.
