Friday, November 17, 2017

K-Solo - Tell The World My Name (May 31, 1990)


(This post of mine was originally published more than three years ago on the Hip Hop Isn't Dead, blog of one Max, whom I consider to be my mentor in writing. Even if he doesn't know what the fuck I'm raving about. Just kidding! Love the recent return, Max!)

Once upon at time in the 1980's, there were two besties who met on a bus ride to school. They wanted to be cool like the other kids, so they decided to rap. Unlike those other fucking rejects, though, these two had what it takes from the beginning. These two became EPMD.

However, this is not their story.

Back in 1989, EPMD released a sophomore album that was a healthy smack in the face to naysayers who didn't think they could pull off a successful follow-up. Unfinished Business was the second great album in EPMD's catalogue, and one of the reasons for that consistency was Erick Sermon and Parish Smith's ability to build new acts and set up the proper platform for them.

Their first experiment was the inclusion of our headliner today, Kevin “K-Solo” Madison, on the song “Knick Knack Patty Wack”. Kevin, who was working as a toilet cleaner at the time (he really wasn't but the internet understands humor, right? Right?!), was the very first guest artist to ever appear on an EPMD album. And he was the only guest on Unfinished Business to boot. So it was vital that he make a strong impression.

Which was a huge flop if I ever saw one. K-Solo fucked up on his very first showing to the public by famously misspelling the word “bird” while using a godawful spelling gimmick during his verse. Erick & Parish’s mixing fiasco resulted in most hip hop heads mostly ignoring K-Solo whenever he popped up again.

Let’s correct that, shall we?

His verse on “Knick Knack Patty Wack” was actually very, very good up until the whole “bird” incident, so good that Black Thought from The Roots (a huge favourite of anyone who has a brain) bit a line from it on his own crew's classic track “What They Do”. And obviously it impressed EPMD so much that they took a chance on the guy, who entered the 1990s recording the first solo debut album from the extended Hit Squad family, Tell The World My Name. However, they decided to challenge their progeny by not making any vocal appearances anywhere on the project. Which would make K-Solo true to his rap name, at least.

They didn't leave him hanging behind the boards, though: other than one sole Erick Sermon production, the album's production duties were handled entirely by Parish Smith, which should have resulted in something interesting (back then, anyway).

Now, I’m not claiming that K-Solo is the next Rakim or anything, but shouldn’t we cut this guy more of a break?

That’s what you’re here to find out.

SPELLBOUND
The lone Erick Sermon production and the lead single, dominated by a myriad of Kool & The Gang excerpts. Kevin continues his insipid spelling gimmick here, but at least he doesn’t fuck it up this time. “Spellbound” kicked off a long beef between K-Solo and Yonkers-based cameo king DMX, who claimed that Solo bit his style after battling him in prison. In typical rap fashion, Solo claims the exact opposite. X actually released a “Spellbound” dis track of his own that rips this one to shreds (rapping over “Seven Minutes Of Funk”, no less!). Oh, you wanted info about this song? Well, there isn't anything that we hadn't already seen on Solo’s guest verse on EPMD’s album. That, and the generic Sermon beat that sounds as if he still didn’t have any confidence yet behind the boards (this was his solo production debut, after all). I know, I could have shortened this explanation to “Skip this shit”, right? Well, I’m an asshole.

ROCKIN’ FOR MY HOMETOWN
The first thing that Mr. Madison spits on this admittedly funky Parish Smith concoction is a correction of his famous fuck-up. Too late, motherfucker! He then completes the cutoff verse with some above-average boasts, shouting out the original “Biggie Smalls”, who apparently was his deejay at the time. Only later do I find out that this DJ is actually the legendary DJ Scratch. The more you know. Again, the beat utilizes a Johnny Hammond loop well. You know, for as much as DMX says he hates Solo, he sure paid attention to this album enough to jack this PMD beat wholesale for his Fuckin Wit D track. Says a lot, don’t it? Overall, this was fairly good.

EVERYBODY KNOWS ME
This song marks the point of a major transition on the album for me: PMD's beat is reminiscent of The Bomb Squad in its disjointed genius, beautifully meshing Steely Dan, Bob James & Joe Quarterman/Free Soul. However, the true revelation is Kevin’s rhyming, as he actually starts sounding pretty good. The main reason is that this is Solo’s first foray into storytelling, as he brings his interpretation of EPMD's own It Wasn't Me It Was The Fame. Solo makes tis track his own, though, no question. It’s as though a bolt of lightning struck our host and told him that maybe he should start rhyming about his own experiences instead of randomly prattling braggadocio in a coma-inducing manner. His image depiction picks up very noticeably, and the song is all the better for it. Very nice. There's a very funny bit at the end of the song, too, where Mr. Madison starts skipping his own voice, as if he was haplessly trying to imitate the cutting of Biggie Smalls the First. Still can't get past the fact that Scratch called himself that.

SPEED BLOCKS
Solo gets his Big Daddy Kane on, sounding pretty confident in his “Set It Off”-style spitting. The beat isn’t as massive of a jump forward as the previous one, but it does the job. Kevin depicts the image of a race, with him winning, of course. What is it with most rappers fearing a display of vulnerability? Take a page out of Ghostface Killah’s book, you insecure fucks!

FUGITIVE
K-Solo delivers a master class in storytelling, painting an image that won’t be forgotten anytime soon. Here, he depicts a run-in with the legal system that, while a tad corny in execution, is told through a very engaging narrative. Parish’s production certainly had a lot to do with this, as he delivers an instrumental still rich in quality decades after it was originally cheffed up and one of his best on the entire album, dominating the track with a mesmerizing Grover Washington Jr mesh. This shit was great!

TALES FROM THE CRACK SIDE
The eleventy-one billion rappers that were throwing public service announcements around like Frisbees (remember when people actually played with Frisbees?) at the time should have studied this song as if they were cramming for a fucking final. Parish cooks up an instrumental that crawls up your skin as the song progresses with a creepy-as-all-fuck blend of Grover Washington Jr, Eddie Kendricks and James Brown. Upon which Mr. Madison unveils his best performance on the album thus far. Solo presents another story rap, rhyming about the effects of crack with some pretty disturbing twists. This shit was an excellent surprise: I didn’t know Kevin was capable of this. A damn fine one-two combo if I ever saw one.

YOUR MOM’S IN MY BUSINESS
Damn! Solo’s on fire with these stories! Now he spits a hilariously vivid depiction of his girlfriend’s mother and her disapproval of her daughter’s relationship with our protagonist, “'cause of my haircut and people call me Solo”. I’m not sure if he intended for this to be funny, but the image of my wife’s mother scolding her because my friends call me an unforgivable nickname such as Solo is hilarity in its purest form. Elsewhere, Mr. Madison shouts out an important member of his future team, producer-slash-rapper Sam Sneed, who was such a big prospect in the 1990s. that Dr. Dre himself fought for his services...and then proceeded to kick him the fuck out of his inner circle. Anyway, the beat, once again, is a home run by Parish. This was entertaining as fuck! “How could you go out with a man nicknamed Solo, for God’s sake? I raised you better than that!”

REAL SOLO PLEASE STAND UP
Solo reuses the non-spelling part of his debut verse on “Knick Knack Patty Wack”. That alone is a severe letdown from the high bar set by the previous tracks. Then he continues to spit about how he should own the Solo name. Damn, that name is sure inflating our host’s head. The PMD instrumental is a fairly goofy Rhythm Heritage loop that actually does its job. On a side note, I don’t exactly know how popular the To Tell The Truth quiz show was, but it sure is prevalent in hip hop. (Slim Shady comes to mind.)

RENEE-RENEE
One of the absolute worst sex raps I’ve ever heard. Period. Shame that a funky Idris Muhammad loop is wasted on this garbage.

SOLO ROCKS THE HOUSE
More bragging. Ugh. Parish's beat, a James Brown excerpt sampled in the most annoying way possible, also does nothing to serve our host. To top it off, the chorus is a fucking earsore.

THE MESSENGER
Kevin’s audition for the African Empowerment rap movement of that period, with a Malcolm X sample to boot. In retrospect, this track’s purpose is as clear as crystal: this is nothing but a fucking cash grab. The audio sample was completely wasted here. Even Solo’s tone when he shouts out Nelson Mandela (R.I.P.) is unconvincing. And the beat, trashing yet another James Brown loop, is the "will clog up your toilet for months"-type of poo. This time I’ll be nice and say: skip this shit.

DRUMS OF DEATH
The beat on this final song picks up the pace tremendously, as do K-Solo's rhymes and delivery to match. This is one hell of a way to end proceedings, leaving things on a high note.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Tell The World My Name is kind of a head-scratcher. On more than one occassion, you have K-Solo attempting (and failing, spectacularly so) to cross over to the mainstream, sounding very disjointed over numerous PMD beats (and the lone Erick Sermon track) in the process. However, he also demonstrates a then-unknown incredible knack for storytelling, and does so repeatedly throughout the album. And it's not like the man can't spit. In fact, maybe that's part of my gripe with him: He hasn't channeled that talent throughout the entire album. Of course, none of this translated into any form of commercial success whatsoever, but it did give his label, Atlantic, a reason to issue a sophomore album, so I guess that counts for something.

WORTH IT? If you can find this fairly easily, then I recommend investing your time, as a considerable portion of this album fucking bangs. The other portion, however, is absolute pig shit, so I’ll leave it up to you.

For more on Kevin Self Organization Left Others, here. And for more from the Hit Squad, indulge.

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