The Fall of Hip Hop Music

In the early days of Hip Hop, most notably around the last fifteen years of the 20th century, there had always been an underlying, but often vocal, opposition to popular American music, or "pop" music. The idea was always that, by surrendering the people's music, designed for the downtrodden inner-city, to corporate America, Hip Hop contradicted everything it stood for. However, that which the soothsayers of rap feared has come true, and those cunning profiteers, who take control of every potential cash-crop they detect, have commandeered the music so seamlessly that the glory days of yesteryear and the code under which they operated, are all but forgotten.

Back then, the unwritten code implied that an artist must "pay dues", such as battling other MC's in the streets or hosting parties held in city parks or apartments, before they can be respected as a true rap artist. This code was enforced musically and collectively by those already anointed, rather effectively destroying the fragile careers of artists who had bypassed these rites of passage and crossed over into the mainstream by way of a marketing strategy.

The two most notable causalities were MC Hammer and Vanilla Ice, both of whom won Grammy Awards, at a time when such honors was considered a scarlet letter in the music's culture. Such brutal attacks proved that the music was, indeed, larger than any man, and no feelings would be spared to safeguard the musical frontier which had refused to join the empire

Today, we see events like the annual Hip Hop Honors, which decided to commemorate The Dirty South for their “dominance” in rap music over the last decade, a dominance measured by sales, not talent, and is clearly a result of the over-exposure that comes from squeezing a successful product for everything it's worth. The landscape has been mangled. Artists that were previously banished are now celebrated, like the actor-turned-rapper and exemplar of pop star, Drake, who has shrewdly conformed to the south's unique interpretation of rap music and has seamlessly integrated with its clique, despite the fact that he hails from Canada, thousands of miles away.

In 2010, Drake, the canuck, who has outrun a sure exile by about fifteen years, wears his mainstream accolades with pride and is adored by fans, which are appearing more and more like the crowd at the Mickey Mouse Club and less like a classic "park jam". Just like Ice, who was harshly vilified and torn from grace, he has bypassed the code and has been inserted into the chain-wearing, campaign-popping world of dancing floozies and big rims. Most certainly under a team of business advisers, he masquerades as a tried and true member of the Dirty South and whistles "Dixie" all the way to the Canadian bank.

It is truly a sad state of affairs, and the real victims are the abandoned artists who are still out there. Much like the Samurai of the far east, whose ideals were smothered by their countries' desire to join the industrial surge of the west in the 19th century, they remain on the fringe and never receive what's rightfully theirs. These forgotten souls, remnants of the original colonies and second-generation frontiersman, like Slum Village, Guilty Simpson, Aesop Rock, Madlib, Oh-No, MF Doom, Kool Keith and Del the Funky Homosapien press on, following the original commandments of hip hop, equipped with the technology of the day and a skill set that's 30 years evolved.

They receive no support from major radio stations, which are in the pocket of the evil syndicate and only serve as a promotional tool for the mainstream acts, and they certainly are not honored with an award show honoring their "dominance". They aren't even invited. Their fan base consists of hip hop romantics, and their work fits the description of cult classic. Like most of our distorted perceptions of history, the present time period will be remembered as the era of the Dirty South and artists such as Drake, while those who has taken the art where it should be melt into obscurity.

So, if you enjoy the new breed, understand that you are perfectly normal. Many have adopted the music that was hijacked and taken from the ghetto by the same people who use all of their interests to control them. However, just know that when you claim to be a fan of hip hop, the music you enjoy is not in it's pure state but rather, is a deformed mutation of it.

To the rest of the fans, keep it real.

Controversy in Hip Hop: Misogyny, Violence, Weed & Hypersexuality Read more at Suite101: Controversy in Hip Hop: Misogyny, Violence, Weed & Hypersexu

The lack of political correctness in hip hop has ensured critics are often voicing the negative aspects of the culture but is there a deeper meaning to it?

Finding a more politically incorrect genre of music than hip hop would be difficult, especially according to most authorities worldwide. Perhaps its critics are right in thinking that artists merely employ purposely offensive shock tactics to sell records and cause a stir or perhaps just like every other art form hip hop is just a blend of complex contradictions. When it comes to issues like violence and misogyny, hip hop may not have been the genre that said it first – developed in the 1970’s, it’s a relatively new genre - but granted it probably said it the loudest!

Exploitation of Sex?

Hip hop and the so-called gangsta rap sub-genre in particular is notorious for the exploitation of women and sexually explicit lyrics, there’s no doubt about it. Politician and anti-rap actvivist C. Delores Tucker called the genre "pornographic fifth," claiming that it was demeaning and offensive to African-American women. She then stated in 1996 statement following her demfamation suit against the estate of Tupac Shakur, "I feel thousands of young women have been defamed by this greed-driven, race-driven and drug-driven music. This sexist lyrical filth particularly defames Black women, promotes drug use, violence and panders pornography to children."

When asking about why hip hop lyrics must be so crude, surely it would be better to consider British boy band Blue’s 2001 cover version of the 1998 Next single ‘Too Close,’ which is full of innuendo promoting sexual promiscuity – surely somewhat inappropriate for their predominantly pre-teen audience. Admittedly the lyrics of Digital Underground were more perhaps more explicitly crude but often dealt with the importance of having protected sex, even naming their 1990 debut album Sex Packets; which, therefore, does beg the question, what is more immoral?


Glorification of Drug-Use?

Rappers are no angels, in fact plenty quite freely proclaim ‘to be in love with Mary Jane’ in the words of the 1978 Rick James classic. Admittedly the use of cannabis seems to be culturally accepted within the hip hop world (despite being an illegal substance in a vast majority of countries worldwide), as is explained in a 2006 XXL editorial by Byron Crawford, which called substance abuse "The new fourth element of hip-hop." In the genre’s lyricism, however, for just about every reference in favour drug abuse, there is one against.

It could be argued that cannabis is glorified by rappers as artists like Cypress Hill, Dr Dre and countless others. It must be said, however, that they are not the only ones; what about musicians like Bob Marley and Jimi Hendrix? Anti-rap activists, such as Tucker, seemed to neglect to highlight the blatant substance abuse of such artists outside the rap community. Surely this is not an issue that should be seen as unique to hip hop.

Glorification of Violence?

Violence is an area of extreme contradiction in hip hop. It seems incongruous that 2pac, often pictured in promotional materials with a gun in his belt, also urged young people to “put the .44 away.” His former label Death Row Records logo could also arguably be seen as promoting violence, as could the famous cross-hair Public Enemy logo and countless album covers but do not always acknowledge the symbolism behind imagery such as this.

Many overlook the powerful message of fighting oppression that such symbols represent. Critics are quick to recognise the word ‘gun’ in hip hop lyricism and seem to develop selective hearing with the messages that follow.In a 2006 article in British newspaper The Independent journalist Sonia Poulton explained that "instead of condemning gangsta rap we should instead question the environments that inspired this music." She also stated that she felt it that condemnation of violent lyrical content was an "uneven playing field," as few condemned John Lennon or Eric Clapton for their gun references. An artist’s work can be interpreted in countless different ways; surely hip hop should be no exception.

Hip Hop Songs and Black Racism

Hip hop music emerged during the 1970s in New York. According to Rachel E. Sullivan in "Rap and Race: It's Got a Nice Beat, but What About the Message?" by the late 1980s, hip hop songs were no longer viewed as a fad; hip hop was viewed as a distinctive musical form. Even though there were increasing numbers of white hip hop fans, many people still viewed the music's consumers as predominantly black.

Examining the lyrics in Hip Hop songs offers a deeper understanding of the social, political and economic circumstances of everyday shared experiences for many African Americans. Through examining hip hop songs it is possible to see the cracks in the foundation of a predominately white patriarchal structure that still represses opportunities for people of color.

Institutional Racism and Hip Hop Songs

The lyrics of hip hop songs underscore the realities of institutional racism. According to Toby S. Jenkins in "Mr. Nigger: The Challenges of Educating Black Males Within American Society," in the late 1960s integration of black students into white suburbia created a disconnect among students, teachers and parents, and hip hop music served as a system of inclusion for black intellectual thought and expression. At the time of desegregation in schools when blacks were silenced and marginalized in the classrooms, they began to create an alternative form of cultural expression that welcomed the social and political commentary of shared experiences and rage against the power structures of America.

Hip hop music tells the story of what it is like to be black in America. Jenkins argues that hip hop songs are reflective of black male experience that denotes, "... poor health, drug trafficking, social oppression, violence, social and political rage, depression, prison industry complex, enslavement, unemployment, poverty, and the need for self-love." Hip hop is one of the few cultural spaces where African Americans can voice their discontent with American power structures that make it difficult for blacks to be successful.

While many people argue that the potential for success in the United States is only limited by a person's ability and willingness to succeed by picking themselves up by their own bootstraps, statistics reveal that the underachievement of African Americans in the United States particularly within educational institutions is suggestive of a society riddled with discrimination.

According to Jenkins, studies reveal that the high school drop-out rate for blacks is high with 20% to 30% of young urban black males leaving school prior to graduation. In 1996 the college drop-out rates for blacks from 300 of the nation's largest colleges dropped from 35% to 33%. Additionally, one in five black men lives in poverty compared to 1 in 12 for white males.

Hip Hop Songs and Cultural Realities of Oppression

Hip hop songs like all music mirrors the cultural climate of its time. In "The Words Have Changed but the Ideology Remains the Same: Misogynistic Lyrics in Rap Music" Terri M. Adams and Douglas B. Fuller state that "...music is a reflection of the cultural and political environment from which it is born." Social expression takes many forms, "...from triumph and hope to utter frustration and despair."

Adams and Douglas state that hip hop songs or rap has been "...denoted as the poetry of the youth who are often disregarded as a result of their race and class." While the lyrics of hip hop songs are sometimes considered derogatory, they nonetheless reflect the systematic and social effects of black racism and are by many scholars considered worthy of research and academic study.

Hip hop songs draw from eclectic and historical sources that span over decades of black racism. The Norton Anthology of African American Literature notes that rappers often cite historical black vernacular idiom and African musical forms as inspiration for their music. From spirituals, gospel, ballads, work songs and secular rhymes to the blues, jazz and hip hop, African American music resonates social and political struggles for blacks in a white dominated society.

Contemporary Oppression and Hip Hop Songs

Even though slavery was abolished in 1865 in the United States, racial oppression still thrives in American society albeit more stealthy. According to Bakari Kitwana in The Hip Hop Generation: Young Blacks and the Crisis in African American Culture, statistically, African Americans are less educated, employed and successful as whites. Incarceration, health issues and death rates are higher for blacks compared to whites. The emotional impact of these statistics is quite apparent in the lyrics of hip hop songs.

Hip hop music underscores the legacies and the realities for blacks in a society that reveals through many of its cultural forms that Jim Crow ideology is still very much alive today in American society. What many people do not want to accept is the fact that the tentacles of racism reach far beyond the boundaries of people of color.

Highly Anticipated Rap Albums

The summer of 2010 sees the release of two highly anticipated rap albums, Thank Me Later by new rap superstar Drake, and Recovery by veteran rapper Eminem. Both albums contain emotionally-charged and confessional music created by two artists at different stages of their careers.
Drake: The Superstar Rookie

Drake, born Aubrey Drake Graham, may be releasing his first full-length studio album, but he is no stranger to rap stardom. The Canadian-born rapper has been making mixtapes since 2006, one of which produced the hit "Replacement Girl" featuring R&B singer Trey Songz. According to AllMusic.com, the song was featured on BET's 106 and Park as "Joint of the Day."

The rapper's popularity truly began to rise when he signed with fellow rapper Lil' Wayne's Young Money record label and released his 2009 mixtape So Far Gone. The album's first single "Best I Ever Had," shot to number two on the Billboard Hot R&B/Hip Hop Songs chart, and produced other hits such as "Successful," another collaboration with Trey Songz, and "Forever." So Far Gone peaked at number six on the Billboard 200 Chart.

Thank Me Later, Drake's debut album, has been described by critics as a meditation on the joys and pitfalls of stardom, and they conflict with everyday life. Although the disc's first single "Over," is an uptempo track, it finds the rapper giving a suspicious eye to new friends with the lyrics " "I know way too many people here right now that I didn't know last year."

AllMusic.com describes the star as "conflicted about his growing stardom and fame. Whether it’s a relationship splitting up as on the melancholy “Karaoke,” worries about the fame changing him ... fears that so-called real hip-hop fans will find him manufactured ... or the difficult nature of romance when you’re a star (“Miss Me”), Drake isn’t afraid to examine what the past year has done to his life."

The Washington Post's review said "what should truly endear Drake to the masses is his supreme self-awareness," and said the album finds the rapper " simultaneously projecting himself as a braggart and a pawn trapped at the crossroads of celebrity and reality."

Eminem: Rapper In Recovery

While Drake seeks to live up to hype with his debut release, Eminem seeks to revive his reputation with his new album Recovery. Although the superstar dominated the late 90s and early 2000s rap scene with a string of critical and commercially successful albums--The Slim Shady LP, The Marshall Mathers LP and The Eminem Show--his last album, 2009's Relapse, was met with an indifferent and less favorable response by critics.

According to CultureBully.com, "Relapse receded into a record that failed to express Eminem’s talent, combed over with tired attempts at being provocative and shocking." Eminem apparently agreed with this assessment, as he apologizes to fans with the lyrics "And to the fans, I’ll never let you down again, I’m back/I promise to never go back on that promise, in fact/Let’s be honest, that last Relapse CD was eh/Perhaps I ran them accents into the ground/Relax, I ain’t going back to that now)."

Instead he reveals his envy of fellow rappers Kanye West and Lil' Wayne on tracks such as "Talkin' 2 Myself," examines his recent troubles on "Going Through Changes," and talks about the loss of friend and former group member Proof in "You're Never Over," rapping "Lord I’m so thankful, please don’t think I don’t feel grateful, I do/Just grant me the strength that I need, for one more day to get through/So homie this is your song, I dedicate this to you.”

Unlike Drake's release, which has garnered generally good reviews overall, Recovery has gotten mixed reactions. While CultureBully.com says the rapper "sounds more confident and clearheaded than he has in years," and calls the disc "one of his most complete records to date," SlantMagazine.com's review said the album " will adjourn the idea that Eminem has any greatness left in him," and that the rapper "can record as many bare-bones confessionals as he'd like ... but there's nothing altogether endearing about his facade."

Reviews and critics aside, the fact that new releases by two of rap's biggest stars focus on the subjects of fame, family, redemption, relationships and loss instead of the usual gritty portrayals of street life may signal a change in the genre.

These days, hip hop group The Roots are known for being the house band on "Late Night with Jimmy Fallon" as much as anything, which is largely a sad state of affairs for hip-hop, but might not be the worst thing in the world for the group itself. The exposure can only help the long time Philadephia live-instrumentation collective, led by their afro’ed drummer Questlove and lead MC Black Thought, who have continued to further their careers with their latest effort, How I Got Over.

The Roots How I Got Over Should See Better Album Sales Than Recent Efforts

The Roots have seen their album sales dip since 1999's Things Fall Apart, a shame given the consistent quality of music that the group puts out. Questlove is one of the most accessible musical artists of any genre, regularly interacting via his twitter account. He is largely known as the musical backbone of the group; a perfectionist that keeps the group pushing forward and continuously creating.

With The Roots' How I Got Over, their 9th full-length studio album, they don’t so much reinvent themselves as continue to rework their tried and true formula, to the betterment of the music industry and their fans. The Roots might play in your household nightly now, but they will never be a household name like say, their one-time collaborator, Jay-Z (On Jay-Z’s Unplugged, The Roots were the band). It’s a shame too, since they are the only real band that hip-hop has, and they have struggled to broaden their audience.

How I Got Over Displays Vintage The Roots Music

The Roots are occasionally preachy but always socially conscious, as with the title track's chorus. “Out on the streets, where I grew up, first thing they teach ya, is not to give a f-ck, that type of thinking can get ya nowhere, someone has to care,” croons over a pulsating drum beat. The similarly themed Now Or Never sees Black Thought kicking his usual science over a catchy groove.

Elsewhere, The Roots songs playfully bounce from the album's slow piano-laced intro Walk Alone, to mid-tempo tracks like the happy Right On, to faster beats like Web 20/20, their throwback hip-hop battle rap song.

The John Legend assisted The Fire is among the strongest songs here, with its danceable bassline and solid drumline. This sees The Roots in their most vintage form with Thought holding down the the soulful track. They rarely misstep, though Monster of Folk’s guest vocals on Dear God 2.0 slow down an otherwise strong answer to Marvin Gaye’s Mercy, Mercy Me.

The Roots Continue to Satisfy Fans and Pundits Alike with How I Got Over

One of the best things about The Roots is that their albums display an amazing amount of consistency since their Do You Want More?!!!??! days. Every album sticks to the script, and if you are a fan, you can always pick up a new joint knowing exactly what to expect. The only drawback there is that this consistency can be viewed with a jaundiced eye, as if they haven’t pushed themselves beyond their own box, like say, Kanye West did with his risky 808’s & Heartbreak.

The Roots seamlessly blend hip-hop and soul with catchy rock rhythms, which is one of the main reasons they have had such longevity. They are respected across the hip-hop landscape and have gained fans of other forms of music through their solid instrumentation. How I Got Over should only further solidify their place as the best hip-hop band of all time. Sure, it’s a fairly exclusive list, but hip-hop would not be the same without them.

Tattoo You: The New Needle of Hip Hop

As anybody who follows mainstream Rap and the people who create the leading soundtrack for our Hip Hop culture can confirm, a unique sense of fashion is just as important to the rhyme-sayer as his or her flow. While having the latest footwear and clothing is a plus, many entertainers have found a more personal way of establishing their brand among fans.

Hence the accessory of choice for many an emcee: the tattoo.

A longstanding fixture among Rock artists, the tat has quietly become an extension of a rapper’s image as well as a documented reflection of important experiences in life. Nowhere was this more apparent than with the late Tupac Shakur. With close to 20 tattoos, the rapper/actor’s body became a window into his soul as well as a blueprint for the attitude and imagery surrounding today’s Rap scene.

Translated as “The Hate U Give Little Infants Fucks Everybody,” Shakur’s abdominal “T.H.U.G. L.I.F.E.” ink took on a life of its own by becoming one with its owner. The immortal Rap icon’s music and lifestyle became the definition of what was on his stomach, which was decorated in 1992. From well-publicized run-ins with the law to outspoken views on various issues to disputes with Rap peers, the public’s perception of a ‘thug’ and all its sides were personified with one name:

Tupac Amaru Shakur.

Goodbye Rock exclusivity. Hello mainstream acceptance of the tattoo within Rap circles. It wasn’t enough for a rapper to possess a way with rhyme and a go-getter attitude. A vehicle for reinforcing what was portrayed in song and the public eye was needed. With the tattoo came the elevation of the arrival of the embattled hardcore Rap star as well as a more personal connection between the artist and the fan.

Like Twitter, Facebook and MySpace, tats are one of the best ways for supporters to show love for an entertainer. Whether it’s getting an emcee's name or face tattooed on their body or lyrics to their favorite song branded, fan appreciation can be found on the fans themselves.

Last year, a cult-followed emcee in Cormega, not someone ever considered mainstream, encountering two such dedicated fans: "The most humbled I’ve been is by the fans. I’ve been to California, and I met a Mexican brother, he got something from The Realness [tattooed] across his back. I’m doing a show at B.B. King’s a few years ago, and I met this white girl – I’m talkin’ ‘bout beautiful, and she has one of my quotes tattooed on her foot. I [was shocked]." From GZA to G-Unit , there's plenty of other artists with such fans out there. Sometimes, in warmer months, we see them in the streets.

To put it simply: A person’s love for their favorite lyricist goes deep.

A fact not lost on rappers who emerge from their crews by making themselves extra noticeable. Sure, the talent and unity are there, but would DMX be just another Ruff Ryder if you never saw tats displaying the love he had for his dog Boomer on his debut It's Dark and Hell is Hot?

What about band-mate Eve? The double R’s “pitbull in a skirt” may stand out with her flow, blond hair, and tattoos on her bicep, shoulder and wrist, but it's the paw prints on her chest that solidify her brand while separating her from other red carpet starlets with markings in the usual places. Additionally, while DaBrat had a similar tattoo, it gave Eve a unique piece of sex appeal against her once-competition of Lil Kim, Foxy Brown and Trina.

And who can count out Busta Rhymes? Armed with Celtic tats on his shoulders and forearms to go with his animated personality and flow, the former Leader of the New School continues to be the center of attention within his own Flipmode Squad. A definite standout if there ever was one. With the ink dating back to the '90s, perhaps these accents allowed fans to accept watching a Natives Tongues affiliate goofball transition into his more contemporary hustler and "mule kick you in your chest" raps.

While DMX, Eve and Busta will forever rep their respective collectives, it’s their solo adventures on and away from the a mic that keep them on our radar. The tattoos are a bonus. Sort of like medals of honor for navigating the jungle of the music industry.

This brings to mind the current king of the machine: Lil Wayne.

To get into how many tats the New Orleans rep carries would take a whole 'nother article. What can be said is that Lil Wayne could be the second coming of Tupac in light of all the skin art inhabiting his body.

Like his west coast counterpart, each tattoo tells a personal story. Tears representing those who have died or time served in prison, “God Bless” on the neck. “Fear God” on the eyelids. Then, there’s the gun on the palm, the New Orleans symbol on the right ear, the phrase “I am music” that appears in red, the bird on the right shoulder as a salute to his label boss/mentor/ father, Birdman, and a homage to his former group, the(the word "hot" on one hand and "boy" on the other hand).

It should be noted that the late '90s/early '00s Cash Money Records group played a key role in Rap's relationship with tattoos. As the early videos will show you, members tattooed their label on their backs and chests. Ironically, by the end of the decade, only Lil Wayne remained a Cash Money artist - as B.G. , Juvenile, Turk and Mannie Fresh all defected, citing bad business as reasoning. The deed however led many artists and labels to copy this trend. From G-Unit to Shady, new rappers often don their employer in permanent ink as a sign of loyalty and promise. This often ends ominously though, just ask Game.

No doubt, tats representing a rapper’s group or close circle of associates are a plus. Say what you will about the misspelled "Slaughterhouse" tattoo on Crooked I’s arm, but the west coast rhyme slinger is 100% committed to the four-man lyrical super group - even if the first ‘h’ in Slaughterhouse was missing.

Professional motivation aside, tattoos are personal business. Look at Eminem, who always has his daughter, Hailie Jade, with him via a large portrait tattoo of her on his upper right arm, complete with surrounding roses and the name of a song dedicated to his pride and joy (“Bonnie & Clyde”) underneath it.

The Detroit lyricist's love for Hailie can also be found on the back of his lower right arm with a name tattoo, “Hailie Jade.” According to reports, the tat was added the day Hailie was born. Go to Eminem’s upper left arm and family is represented again with a tat honoring the man who introduced him to Hip Hop, his deceased uncle, Ronnie Pilkington.

Just as easy is it to express love, rappers have no problem putting their hate in tat form.

Eminem’s ex-wife, Kim Mathers, has been on the receiving end of many a diss from her former spouse. So is it any surprise the Oscar-winner would reportedly take his disdain for Kim to a new level after a fight by getting her name and an open grave tattooed on his stomach with the words “Rot in Pieces?”

Love is truly a fickle thing.

For better or worse, Nas’ tattoo of Kelis on his forearm was a unique look at the then- apple of his eye in all her topless glory. Little did he know the body art would be a wasted effort. The couple eventually called it quits after a little more than five years of marriage and is currently engaged in a public divorce. According to reports, Nas has altered the art with a new head - that of a lion.

The moral of the story: Be careful when using your body to voice your love, appreciation or loyalty for royalties.

Canibus takes it in an even weirder direction. He can attest to this as his admiration for LL Cool J’s microphone tattoo reportedly caused the end of the pair’s brief alliance and ignited their infamous beef during the late ‘90s. The pair met when Cool J invited Canibus to rhyme with him, DMX, Method Man and Redman on the classic song “4,3,2,1.”

According to RapCentral.com, Canibus asked LL if he would mind if he got a microphone tattooed on his arm just like his then-idol. Mr. Smith jokingly responded that Canibus should only get a microphone tat if he truly felt he was worthy to get it. The conversation resulted in Canibus’ original “4,3,2,1” verse that included the following line:

"Yo L, is that a mic on your arm? Let me borrow that!"

Although Canibus said the remark was meant as a show of respect, Cool J took it as a diss and used it as the motivation for his “4,3,2,1” verse, which closed the song. Canibus later confronted the Rap veteran about his verse, which led to a promise from both parties to change their respective parts. Canibus re-recorded his verse without the microphone tat line, while Cool J’s verse remained on the song unchanged.

And the rest is Beef history. All over a tattoo.

Body art may not have been the root of the beef between Game and 50 Cent, but it was used to drive home Game’s falling out with his former rhyme affiliate. Located on the Black Wall Street leader’s left elbow next to his Hurricanes logo tat , the G-Unot tattoo was a spur of the moment decision made in the midst of spearheading a movement against 50 Cent and his G-Unit crew.

“When I got that tat done, that’s just how I was feeling that day,” the rapper confessed to Inked magazine. “Whatever I’m feeling on a given day is just how it fucking is. I’m day-by-day.”

To say that Game’s body art is there just to be there would do the rapper a disservice. His ink count totals more than 50 and represents everything from his son to his beloved L.A. Dodgers/west coast allegiance to deceased Rap legends.

Like tattoos displaying various aliases and acknowledgment of family and close friends, many rappers use the ink on their bodies to highlight their love of God. The shoulder serves as the perfect location for Bow Wow’s "Prayer of Jabez" tat as well as the praying hands found on Atlanta rhymesayer Ludacris.

“You wake up, and you go to sleep, and you thank God for everything you have,“ Luda said about his tattoo.

For Nelly, it’s more a connection with certain people in the good book. Bearing the name of Moses on his right arm, the St. Lunatic revealed the Biblical leader’s story is something he can relate to “as far as leading people out.”

"Servants of God" may be Nelly’s choice, but his contemporaries have found other ways of getting their religious point across. Nas has Psalm 23:4 scripture tattooed on his forearm in a scroll, while Sean “Diddy” Combs doesn’t mince words with a neck tat that reads “God’s Child.”

All in all, religious tats are a small part of the total body art gallery found on various emcees. Lil Wayne may be the most obvious contender for Shakur’s tat crown, but there are a few other heirs to the throne.

With close to 80% of his body tatted up, Wiz Khalifa is a viable candidate. So much so, the rapper proclaimed himself as “the king of ink,” in a 2009 interview with YouHeardThatNew.com.

“I am the king of ink when it comes to this shit. There’s nobody with more tattoos than me except for maybe like two or three people,” the rapper stated. “… there will be no one with more ink than me. So ink and tatted that’s perfect. I gotta do that.”

That could be true, but it’s hard to deny multi-tatted competitors like Soulja Boy, Birdman, Game and Rick R, who boasts former US Presidents on his chest and legendary figures such as comedian Richard Pryor on his stomach.

Not to be outdone are burgeoning Rap vocalists Chasis and Tyga. While Cashis sports everything from a smoking skull to a giant eye and hand to a message (“You Die Slow”), Tyga keeps his torso rooted in a large tat portrait of Jesus Christ crucified on the cross with “Fear None But God” covering his chest above angel wings.

The tat is one of more than 30 found on the Young Money rapper, who started getting skin art done on him at age 14 and has half his body covered in tattoos. Last year, Lil Wayne made his own contribution to the entertainer’s tattoo collection by giving Tyga a face tattoo in 2009.

Tyga's tattoos may carry weight in rhyme arenas, but what happens when the rapper ventures outside music to make a mark in other realms?

If you're 50 Cent , that means shedding your tats for greener pastures in the world of film. Media sources report the G-Unit general's decision to remove the tattoos from his arms last year was made to help secure more movie roles.

In April that same year, Pharell Williams opted to get rid of most of his tattoos. The motivation behind getting off the tat train came not with being ready for a close-up, but more with knowing it’s time for a change as the producer looked beyond his wallet to see the benefit of going back to a life without tattoos.

"…fuck it, it's worth it,” Williams told the Daily Mirror in 2008. “I got fire on my arms, I don't need fire on my arms! I'm a grown man."

Pharrell may have a point. As much an eye catcher as they are, will small and large tattoos still reside on the body of a rap star that transitions into an elder state of mind? That could well depend on the emcee.

No matter what, Hip Hop is marked for life. Past, present and future. Temporary and permanent. Tats are the new bling. Hate it or love it.

Walk Together, Rock Together: Five Unsung Punk & Hip Hop Encounters

Growing up as a rabid fan of anything (music, movies, comics, etc.) means you’re spending your days schooling yourself on it, seeking it out, finding a cheap way to get it, and hooking up with a crew of like minded people who are also fans. There’s not enough free time nor should a healthy kid be in the headspace to step back and do an analysis of why they’re a fan of a certain medium or style. No teenager whose goal is to steal a couple fat caps and get laid wants to explore what factors in their life make them a specific “market” or a “demographic.”

But during my years spent digging through the catacombs of record stores with deceptively utilitarian names like “Music Connection” and “Sound Exchange” to staying up late to catch Stretch & Bobbito, a few memorable moments made me realize - without ever being able to give a clear reason why - it seemed normal to be a fan of both Punk Rock and Hip Hop. If you ask a lot of Punk rockers and Hip Hop heads about a venue where you’ll find their two diehard fanbases intersecting one answer would likely be skateboarding. So when The Beatnuts "Off the Book segued into Youth Brigade’s “Men In Blue” it in the Shorty’s Fulfill The Dream video, the Punk / Hip Hop connection just felt right.

Then it happened again. I bought Blood, Sweat, and No Tears, the debut album from New York Hardcore kings Sick of It All. I hit play and heard that unmistakable voice of the emcee who penned “Slap Them Up”: “Blastmaster KRS-One. Fresh for ’89. You Suckaaas!” Thus KRS kicked off Sick of It All’s “Clobberin’ Time,” one of the most legendary mosh parts to ever come out of the five boroughs. Again, the connection just felt right.

I was finally sold on the two genres being one and the same the day I realized I was unable to give a truly unbiased review of the musical merits of Frayser Boy’s Me Being Me. Why? Because one of its producers, Three 6 Mafia's Juicy J, was featured in the insert wearing a Misfits shirt. And in this case, the bond between genres really felt right. Both Three 6 and The Misfits had DIY beginnings and embraced over the top horror imagery while (partly due to finances) preferring lo-fi grime when it came to production values. Both units lost all of the original members but two in the case of Three 6, and one in the case of the Misfits' Glenn Danzig who basically controlled the band anyway. Both were eventually accepted by the mainstream, alienated a portion of their fans and got bigger, glossier, and more musically ambitious. Three 6 gave us “Stay Fly," Danzig - band name and his name now one and the same- gave us “Mother.”

The following are some unsung moments when Hip Hop and Punk have crossed paths. These aren’t mega-cultural milestones nor are they the best musical moments. I didn’t choose hardcore kids putting down their instruments and making a legendary Hip Hop album (i.e. The Beastie Boys' License To Ill) or rappers picking up instruments and having Punk Rock songs on a legendary Hip Hop album (i.e. Check Your Head).

These are a few side alley collisions where each of the drivers threw up their hands and told society they just didn’t give a fuck. And with these two kinds of music which both started in the streets that’s the way it should always be.

Johnny and Afrika Speak About Destruction

It always amazed me how the real interesting stuff started happening when the Punk stopped. After one proper Sex Pistols album and a bunch of scattershot filler, Johnny Rotten decided to go over the heads of the public rather than spit in their faces. Rolling back to his govt. name “John Lydon,” he formed Public Image Ltd. (PiL). Similar to early Hip Hop, PiL took the sounds of Krautrock acts like Kraftwerk and anchored them with the bottom heavy bass of Dub Reggae. PIL’s Hip Hop similarities didn’t stop there. When Lydon slithered onto American TV in 1980 to snarl at Tom Snyder that PiL was not a band in a music sense but a “communications company messing about” with “anything that’ll make money” like “dabbling with film soundtracks,” it makes you wonder whether a 15 year-old, Marion "Suge" Knight Jr. had stayed up past Johnny Carson that night and found some inspiration.

So after all of this, it didn’t come as a surprise when the man responsible for “Planet Rock,” “The Godfather,” Afrika Bambaataa, asked producer Bill Laswell for someone “real crazy” to record with the latest incarnation of his band Time Zone. One phonecall and a quick recording session later and there was “World Destruction.” The track was roughly four minutes of epic Rap-Rock that predated “Walk This Way” by two years.

World Destruction - Time Zone f. John Lydon (12"single, 1984)

Thanks to a relatively recent pop culture phenomenon called The Sopranos, “World Destruction” is now better known as the song that opened and closed (with the classic “dollar bill” shot) the series' Season 4 premiere.

Lydon and Bambaataa must have caught the same electro bug in the studio that day because they went on to collaborate separately with British genre definers Leftfield giving the group their biggest hits (“Open Up” / “Afrika Shox” ) on their only two albums.

Dee Dee Ramone Channels Schoolly D

Hands down, my favorite Ramone was always Dee Dee. Here’s a guy that most of the time looked and sounded like he was zonked out of his mind on numerous substances and probably was the most crippled out of all his bandmates, who all fought various forms addictions and/or illnesses. Yet one look at the songwriting credits and you’ll see that it was his name under most of The Ramones “hits,” bubble gum Pop anthems played at warp speeds using three chords or less.

So I’m guessing diehard fans took the news with heavy hearts when it was announced in 1989 that Dee Dee was leaving the band to become a full time rapper. Yes, the rapper, “Dee Dee King.” After stumbling onto planes during the End of The Century Tour rockin’ Adidas and Dookie Rope Chains, Dee Dee’s Schoolly D fixation caused him to make a fateful decision.

In the annals of “so bad, it’s good” moments comes Standing In The Spotlight. Dee Dee lets you know right from the get-go that “Mashed Potato Time” will “make you snap crackle and pop” 'cause “he’s the master of Hip Hop” while “2 Much 2 Drink” is the dark side of the Beastie’s “Fight For Your Right” and finds Dee Dee re-pronouncing Heineken to make it rhyme with fun. And there’s still eight tracks to go... What gives this LP its charm and its place in my “rap” world is that Dee Dee actually sounds like he’s having fun and while taking the endeavor seriously isn’t taking its execution. When J-Ro said he was “like Kukamunga” and MCA talked about, “real not phony ‘O.E.’ and Rice-a-Roni” they were coming from the same place albeit with a heightened level of proficiency.

Dee Dee King - 2 Much 2 Drink (Standing in the Spotlight, 1992)

Having fun with nothing to prove. That’s something that seems to be missing in not just a lot of recent hip hop music but pop music in general.

Pushead Visits Dr. Octagon

Taking away Brian “Pushead” Schroeder’s Dr. Octagoneycologyst cover art is no different than taking the silver triangle with the rainbow thing away from Dark Side of The Moon. Just like Kool Keith travelled from a world of Ced Gee beats and Tim Dog collaborations, Pushead landed in Dr. Octagon’s “General Hospital” after polluting the world (his band was Septic Death) with some of its most iconic Hardcore, Punk, and Metal imagery. Way before Shepard decided that “Andre Had A Posse,” Pushead’s unmistakable art was like a twisted welcome wagon on video boxes and Zorlac skate decks for kids who wanted to experience a band called Metallica. And no CGI’d-out movie trailer has ever been more repulsingly intriguing than a signature Pushead skull and The Misfits simply asking, “Mommy Can I Go Out And Kill Tonight?”

Punk and hardcore in its essence is simple. Stripped-down. Dangerous. This is why the Hip Hop critics who overthought Dr. Octagonecologyst with cerebral dissertation style reviews should’ve analyzed the LP from the cover art in. Dr. Octagonecologyst is an album that features a sample from Cabin Boy and finds Keith discussing straight faced “carrying walruses” and being “armed with seven rounds of space doo-doo pistols.” The irreplaceable sounds from Dan the Automator, Kutmasta Kurt and DJ Q-Bert are all dusted-out murk and fit perfectly alongside the soundtrack to Planet of The Vampires.

"Earth People- Dr. Octagon (Dr. Octagonecologyst, 1997)

So like the grasshopper with saw blade hands Pushead did for Japanese hardcore band Cocobat, Dr. Octagon’s cover art issues the same mission statement. Don’t dissect stupid, just enjoy.

Jello and Ice-T Fight The Law

Leaving Luke Skywalker and Dee Snider out of the equation, the two people Tipper Gore would probably least like to have father her grandchildren are Ice-T and Jello Biafra.

Let’s start with Jello. Naming your third album Frankenchrist released by your band named “Dead Kennedys” would definitely make the finger of some PMRC lackey stop as it scrolled down the list October ’85’s new releases. Add to the mix songs like “Hellnation” and “Stars and Stripes Of Corruption” and you’ve really got a party. Now that Jello a.k.a. “Captain Ringworm” has whet your appetite, the H.R. Giger painting Penis Landscape (which is not a landscape in the the shape of a penis but actually many penises ... and vulvas too) is generously provided in glorious poster form. Now Giger wasn’t a fringe artist, this was an Academy Award winner! But when it came to the people that mattered, the people that decide to slap fines and jail sentences on “pornographic” lawbreakers who distribute art like Giger’s, its probably a good bet that they weren’t fans of a little film called Alien that also relied on his visuals. Either way the fight over whether or not to deem Frankenchrist “harmful material for minors” turned Jello into an even bigger scourge of the PMRC, a first amendment crusader, bankrupt, and a man without a band. Lets face it, the third item on the list is the one that really hits home for most of us.

Ice-T. Two words: "Cop Killer." I’m not bringing this up to say it was the general public’s job to interpret this song differently nor am I trying to mince words when it comes to telling people about something vs. telling people to do something. But the whole song (recorded by Ice-T’s Thrash band Body Count) falls into a grey area which was ignored by many lazy critics content with delivering something appealingly topical rather than an informed argument for either side of the case. If all the critics who championed Slayer - like those at Spin who made Reign In Blood the #67 album of the last 20 years - and agreed that the song “Angel of Death” was simply “cinematic” stood up for “Cop Killer” using the same reasoning, would the outcome have been different?

Either way, while 2 Live Crew was in Miami rcording “My Seven Bizzos,” Ice-T and Afrika Islam were meeting with the disembodied voice of Jello Biafra in Los Angeles. The resulting track which has one of the most logical names in the history of Hip Hop, “Freedom Of Speech,” was born. Beginning with the line “‘Ayo Ice I’m working on a term paper for college, What’s The First Amendment?’” and ending with a clip from Jello’s “Tales From The Trial Pt.3,” Ice T lets us know that we, “better watch what we say.”

Freedom of Speech - Ice-T - The Iceberg (Freedom of Speech...What What You Say, 1989)

No three artists are more similar with each other as far as relationships with the media go than Jello, Ice-T and Chuck D. So it was a complete no brainer when “Freedom of Speech” appeared again on the latter’s Louder Than A Bomb compilation.

Just Another Damn Collaboration

No example lets a music fan run with why the two genres are intertwined better than this final selection. These two joints feature bassist Daryl Jenifer (as producer) and enigmatic frontman HR (as guest vocalist) from my (and Lil Jon's) ALL TIME favorite hardcore band, Bad Brains. Any fan familiar with the Bad Brains who is also familiar with Ill Bill and R.A. The Rugged Man two Hip Hop artists who have called on this half of Bad Brains, could give a whole list of reasons as to why they’re all a perfect fit. But like Juicy J’s Misfits shirt, even if it was just picked out by a stylist, it just feels right.

Riya - Ill f. HR & Daryl Jennifer (Hour of Reprisal, 2009)

How Low (prod. Daryl Jenifer) - R.A. the Rugged Man (Die, Rugged Man, Die 2004)

The Fanalysts On: LeBron James' Free Agency / 2010 NBA Draft

Manhattan, NY --- Greetings from Gotham City, home to the 2010 NBA Draft. While my partner The Gambler – a veteran newspaper, Internet and magazine journalist for the past 15 years -- is working his iPhone, trying to get an inside angle on where LBJ will be playing in the 2011NBA season; I took time off from working on my new album, and am at the draft getting a bird’s eye view of the leagues new talent pool.

Please understand that there is no place on the planet like the great City of New York, and equally Tri-state area fans are the NBA’s most knowledgeable and devoted.

We are talking about a Knick franchise that hasn’t won a championship since the '73 squad of Reed, Bradley, Frazier, DeBusschere and Monroe. The front office has been a running joke in the NBA since 2002-03,and now the orange & royal blue are waiting to see which free agent will bring championship basketball back to NYC.

Here in the "Rotten Apple", there are no in betweens. Just all or nothing. You don’t get props for being average in this city. Either we sound like, the Yanks won the pennant, or we sound like the Jets lost to New England again!

The diehard fans are the best part about NY sports. And for that alone, I'm proud to be a New Yorker. However, The Gambler & I are now part of the ruthless media that makes playing in NYC harder than it already is, only difference is, The FANalysts are everywhere!

I had the pleasure of attending the NBA DRAFT at Madison Square Garden and although I'd rather watch it in the comfort of my home (HD/surround sound), I had a ball hearing the fans complain or cheer after every pick.

The best part of the night had to be between The Rowdy Knick fans serenading JEFF VAN GUNDY all thru the night despite broadcasting live. They chanted, “We want KING JAMES,” throughout the evening and booed the hell out of NBA Commissioner David Stern, prior to every pick! CLASSIC NEW YORK LOVE!!

With the 38th pick, the Knicks chose Syracuse standout Andy Rautins to the delight of the Knick fans, but who’s this kid from Stanford that led the Pac-10 in scoring? Landry Fields was not the name the Knicks wanted to hear called, but, it is what it is, and you had to know a chorus of boos would come from every angle of the theatre. Again, CLASSIC NEW YORK!!

The draft was weaker than previous years. There wasn’t much suspense in the first five picks, and with the exception of the No. 1 pick John Wall, there are no sure-shot platinum players picked. But once the Warriors were on the clock, it was anybody's guess. The Golden State front office has been very weird the last few years (no team worse than Minnesota).

Here are my grades for the13 lottery teams, enjoy!

1. Washington Wizards: John Wall, PG, Kentucky A+

Not sure what the Wizards plan on doing with gun-toting Gilbert Arenas, but Wall will replace him at some point. Arenas shoots well and can create his own shot with the best of them as a shooting guard, His defense is type trash though. Wall can do it all and has only touched the surface of his talents. With the right coaching, he can be an all-time great. Great pick should have a great young nucleus!

2. Philadelphia 76ers: Evan Turner, SG, Ohio State A+

This kid is so nice, I'll say it twice! Evan Turner is NICE!!! John Calipari has coached the last two rookies of the year as Memphis Head Coach (Tyreke Evans & Derrick Rose). This year while at Kentucky, five of his players were picked in the draft with Wall having a solid chance to be his third Rookie of the Year stud. But trust me when I tell you, Evan Turner (if given the playing time) will have something to say about it.
Again, Evan Turner is NICE!!!

3. New Jersey Nets: Derrick Favors, F, Georgia Tech B+

The ACC Rookie of the Year and 2009 Parade Magazine High School P.O.T.Y. only needs work on his jump shot. He is powerful, athletic and runs the floor like a gazelle. He will play hard for The GENERAL Avery Johnson! The future of Brooklyn starts now.

4. Minnesota T-Wolves: Wesley Johnson, F, Syracuse C+

One of my favorite players in the draft but David Kahn knows not a ting about basketball! I hope I'm wrong for Wesley's sake! He could be a Shawn Marion type with much more offensive game.

5. Sacramento Kings: Demarcus Cousins, F, Kentucky C+

Could have benefited from one more year at school. Cousins is already labeled Rasheed Wallace Jr, because of the technical fouls he is prone to get. Not a good look.

The last thing you want to do is come into the league with that hanging over your head, especially with all that talent!

6. Golden State Warriors: Ekpe'Udoh, F, Baylor C-

Could Don Nelson finally be thinking about defense for the first time since the Bucks of the 80's? If so, you've found a diamond in the rough! The former Michigan Wolverine can do it all defensively and on the boards. This is what the Boys by the Bay have needed for a long time now! Still that front office scares me!

7. Detroit Pistons: Greg Monroe, F, Georgetown, B-

Looks like alot of teams are learning! DEEE-FENSE wins games.

Detroit is no exception. Expect Monroe’s game to flourish in the pros, if he decides to work hard.

8. L.A.Clippers: Al-Farouq Aminu, F, Wake Forest C+

Should be an athletic force. The Clippers still need a coach to maximize all of that young talent. Byron Scott anyone?

9. Utah Jazz: Gordon Heyward, F, Butler C+

The young man can shoot. Does this mean Kyle Korver moves on?

Does Boozer stay put, or does Milsap carve his name in Utah history?

Either way, Deron Williams will get Heyward the ball in the right spot and a star should be born within Jerry Sloan’s system.

10. Indiana Pacers: Paul George, G/F, Fresno State C+

Can score. Can defend. He is underrated because of where he played in college.

Pacers are lost however!

11. New Orleans Hornets: Cole Aldrich, C, Kansas C+

Could have used another year in Lawrence. Guess it won’t hurt to practice with Chris Paul and Darren Collison.

12. Memphis Grizzlies: Xavier Henry, G, Kansas B-

This guy could've benefited from one or two more years of school as well, but he is truly the steal of the lottery! Tell em' the PHIFER said so!

13. Toronto Raptors: Ed Davis, F, UNC C-

All this means is Chris Bosh will be off to the states and the Raptors are sinking in quick sand! Calderon will not want to remain in Toronto!

What do you guys think about the Draft? The Fan’s opinion is what really counts with us, so don’t hesitate to tell us how crazy or on point we are.

THE BATTLE FOR LEBRON STARTS NOW!

by The Gambler

A lot is going on in the world right now. President Barack Obama’s plate runnith over with crisis. Oil is still contaminating our oceans and disrupting our ecosystem. The US still has nuff troops in Afghanistan. Homes are foreclosing, the economy is on empty and so are car tanks thanks to stupid high gas prices.

Despite the enormity of these problems, have no doubt , that today the President’s attention shifts from the most pressing issue, to the most popular.

July 1 officially begins the LeBron James sweepstakes. King James is probably the most coveted free agent in NBA history. He will start listening to suitors and decide what franchise he will sign with in 2010, indelibly changing NBA history.

First stop is Manhattan, where the Knicks will show no humility or pride in luring James to The Big Apple. Anything goes, from wearing monkey suits, private jet flights over the Hudson, elaborate feasts at the city’s finest restaurants, to corny promotional songs by desperate celebrities who can’t wait to buy up all the good seats in Madison Square Garden.

The Knicks have tanked two seasons in order to get way under the cap. They aren’t the only team that has sacrificed winning to set themselves up for a run at LeBron. There is more salary dumping going on than ever. Teams have shaved rosters to three and four players, just to set themselves up for the mere possibility of luring LeBron and some big names to their city. Pretty pathetic if you ask me, but hey I don’t make the rules.

There’s as much barbershop banter, opinion, expert analysis and anticipation about who LBJ will sign with, as there was in the '80s, when the TV show Dallas made us wait for a year to find out who shot J.R. Or more recently, waiting years to see the last season of the Sopranos.

Everyone has a philosophy about where LBJ is going. These opinions are often jaded with personal desires and unsubstantiated boasts. Sort of like freestyling off the dome. If there ever was a player who represents the “Now Generation” a/k/a “The Me Generation,” it’s LeBron James.

An orgy of different elements has brought us to this day. James’ iconic rise has been fueled by killing dudes on the court, and an over-the-top media and internet hype machine. ESPN and other media outlets, colleges, agents and basketball movers and shakers, have been stalking this kid since grade school. A once in a lifetime talent, James and his chiseled, Adonis-like physique jumped straight from high school to NBA dominance quicker than any player prior.

The NBA community’s unfulfilled desire to crown the next Michael Jordan is a factor as well. Similar to the rap world’s thirst to find the next Big and Pac, many undeserving players have been prematurely anointed the next “Jordan”. And the average fan’s tendency to ride whatever wave the sports media monopolies are promoting, also contribute to making today historic.

The fact that King James’ suitors represent major market NBA teams: Miami, New York, New Jersey, Chicago, LA Clippers, also helps magnify the process .The most revealing example of LeBron’s popularity, is the way his free agency has overshadowed Kobe Bryant’s recent back-to-back chips. Most basketball fans couldn’t wait for the series – as great as it was – to end. All they want to know is where LeBron goin?

So, where Lebron goin?

CLEVELAND:

There is a contingent of Ohio faithful that hold onto the belief that LeBron won’t turn his back on his hometown. They think that when he goes through the motions of being wined and dined, and the dust clears, he will resign with Cleveland. They can be likened to addicts in denial. The signs over the past few months are not positive for the city.

First Cleveland fired coach Mike Brown and GM Danny Ferry bounced. Ferry was apparently at odds with owner Dan Gilbert about the direction of the team. Not a good sign. Then, LeBron refused to speak with Michigan coach Tom Izzo, after Izzo was offered the Cavs head coach position. Izzo didn’t want to accept the job without speaking with LeBron first. Izzo obviously didn’t get the positive feedback he was looking for. He refused the job to remain with The Spartans. One of my sources says someone close to LeBron told Izzo, “don’t waste your time”.

Fans and analysts, who still believe LeBron is staying, have to be sick to their collective stomachs right now. The likelihood of James resigning with Cleveland is withering away like his game during the playoffs. The best shot they have is to sign him to a three-year extension and get whatever financial benefits out of it that they can.

Cav fans have a passion and genuine love for LeBron. But for Cleveland ownership, it’s all about retaining LeBron the Cash Cow. He’s like the rock star whose popularity makes his unknown band members, manager and label execs, famous and cooler than they really are. Once he is gone, they fall back into obscurity. Cleveland’s become an NBA hot spot because of LeBron. The place you go to witness the greatest show on hardwood.

Thankfully, with LeBron’s eminent departure, we won’t have to say the names of mediocre players like Varejao, Mo Williams, or Daniel “Keisha Cole” Gibson again.

The FANalysts have been in the lab, studying inside info and relying on our many sources to figure out where LeBron will eventually sign. That decision can't be made without first assessing the pros and cons of each squad.

PROS:

1. LBJ can remain in his hometown, continue to build his legacy and try to bring Cleveland its first NBA chip. The move would enhance his popularity, rid him of any selfish labels, and show that he has genuine concern for the people of Ohio. He would become an instant folk hero.

2. LeBron will have more power and say in personnel and management decisions than any player ever had, or ever should have.

3. The NBA has become a global brand, so staying in Cleveland doesn’t hurt his chances at becoming a billionaire icon. It just may take much longer in Cleveland.

CONS:

1. The Cavs can’t offer the rich history and universal glitz that larger NBA markets can. LeBron has dedicated almost a decade of his career to Cleveland, and they just haven’t been able to get it done. The pieces he needs to be successful, from the head coach to his supporting cast, hasn’t been up to snuff.

2. Remaining in Cleveland and not winning a championship will damage LeBron’s legacy, and possibly deprive him of his proper place in NBA lore. All of the immortal players have won multiple chips. Eventually being a perennial loser will come back to haunt him. Kevin Garnett is one of the biggest supporters of LeBron pursuing free agency. Garnett said he regrets resigning for $126 million with Minnesota in 1997, before seeing what other teams were gonna throw in the pot to scoop him. Management never provided him viable championship pieces, and he wasted most of his career in Minnesota.

What we do know is that it has been reported that The Knicks are already prepared to offer Hawks guard Joe Johnson a max deal today. Seems like a bit of a panic move to me, but I guess a bird in the hand was their train of thought. Toronto’s Chris Bosh and Heat guard Dwayne Wade are separately meeting with the Knicks and Nets on Friday. I am pretty sure Wade and Bosh are giving both teams a mere courtesy look. It seems they have other plans. We will get into all that. It would be shocking if either of those guys signed with the Knicks or Nets.

Chicago Bulls:

PROS:

1. Chicago has some young and exciting talent to work with. The way things are shaping up, it seems The Bulls will have a legit shot at LBJ. Derrick Rose is a diamond and getting better. Jaokim Noah is a monster on the boards and a defensive stud. Luol Deng is a versatile scorer, who would benefit from King James’ presence.

2. Bringing in defensive guru Tom Thibodeau to run the show, implies a commitment to defense, which is important for any real championship contender.

3. Chicago is not done shaving cap space. Chicago is trying to get to about $32 million under the cap, and will attempt to lure LeBron and another big free agent to The Windy City.

CONS:
1. It’s hogwash to think Chicago has a better chance of winning than the other teams. Any team LeBron decides to go to will have a 20-30 game increase in the win column. He will automatically make that team a serious Eastern Conference Finals contender.

2. Michael Jordan has already built a basketball empire beyond duplication in Chicago. Regardless of what LeBron does as a Bull, he will remain in the shadow of the greatest player ever. Does LeBron want that to be his legacy? It’s a no win situation. Even if he brings one chip to Chicago, it’s unlikely he will bring six.

Miami Heat

PROS:

1. The Heat wasn’t one of the original teams mentioned as a possible home for LBJ. That has changed since Miami parlayed a flurry of moves into a league-high $43 million in cap space. Depending on whether or not they keep Michael Beasley, they could have a potential $49 million to blow on a record three max free agents. Each max free agent will cost around $16.6 million. Dumping Beasley’s contract will make that possible. There is word that Wade is planning on re-signing with the Heat and trying to campaign for James, Chris Bosh, Amare Stoudemire, Carlos Boozer -- or any combination of killers -- to join him in Miami for an instant “dynasty”. It’s looking more and more like the player will be Bosh. If they could get a third guy, It would be the first time in NBA history three max players agreed to play for the same team.

2. Miami has great weather, water and women. It’s not a bad place for LeBron to call home for a few years, before he bounces to the Brooklyn Nets.

3. If Wade could pull this off – a move NBA Commissioner David Stern isn't very supportive of -- LeBron would instantly be surrounded with awesome No 2 and No 3 options. A chip would be a definite possibility.

CONS:

1. The Heat may decide to keep Michael Beasley [not likely if they feel they really have any shot at LeBron], thereby lowering their chances of landing LeBron.

2. Three max players meeting and agreeing to all go to one team isn’t what Commish Stern has in mind. The appearance of league balance is important to him. The more teams that seem to have a chance to win, the better the attendance and greater the fan interest . A move like that, would shift the power in the East dramatically. The league may intercede and try to prevent such an ethically –delicate occurrence.

3. Dwayne Wade and LeBron may not be able to co-exist. There has to be a clear-cut No 1 on each team in today’s NBA. Who would be the first option ? The analyst in me says it shouldn’t matter. The fan in me says it would never work. Too much ego.

New Jersey Nets:

PROS:

1. The Nets will be moving to a new elaborate Brooklyn stadium in two to three years max. LeBron has said his ultimate goal is to be a billionaire athlete, and the new Nets owner Russian-billionaire Mikhail Prokhorov is paid out of the wazzooby. Not a bad guy to align yourself with. Jay-Z is the other influence. Reports of he and LeBron’s friendship have been overstated, but Jigga Man has been somewhat of a good friend/mentor to King James. He has most likely offered his opinion on this matter. How much weight it carries, we don’t know. The Nets do have backup plans, as unlikely as they are to happen. Meeting with Bosh and Wade shows a go for broke attitude. As of draft night they were $27 million under the cap, so if max money starts running out someone will bite.

2. As soon as the Nets arrive in Brooklyn, LeBron would be the biggest star on the most popular franchise in sports.

3. An ambitious owner usually means an ambitious team. Mikhail Prokhorov, one of the world’s richest cats, has said The Brooklyn Nets will get mad love internationally. He spits a big game too, guaranteeing the playoffs next year and a chip in five. He could really impress me by getting LBJ to come to Newark. That would be a miracle.

CONS:

1. It sounds good, but I don’t think playing in Newark is what LBJ has in mind. We will revisit this option in three to five years

Knicks:

PROS:

1. The advantages for LeBron playing under the bright lights and big city skyline of Manhattan are obvious. If you win in New York you become a God of sorts. If LeBron came to NY and resurrected a once-proud franchise, he would become the most popular person in the world. And winning in New York means much more than wining in other places. It means you are the crème de la crème. It means you have withstood the most fierce criticism and scrutiny and won over a group of people who know what it takes to be champions and don’t let you take days off. You faced the ultimate challenge and persevered.

With that being said, I don’t know if Joe Johnson is going to be the deal sealer in getting LBJ to come here. In fact, he is the player I thought would be the worst fit. He lacks heart and in my opinion, the intensity and desire to help bring a prideful city back from basketball ruins.

2. The Knicks have room for two max players. According to Chris Broussard, one of those max players will be Johnson. They can only hope that Johnson will be enticing to LeBron. Bringing in a Wade, Bosh or Stoudemire would have made the case stronger. One thing we do know is the Knicks are not done. If LeBron doesn’t want to wild out on Wall Street, then Amare Stoudemire – another guy who teams may be hesitant to give max money to – will take max money from NY.

CONS:

1. People are afraid of The Knicks. The franchise has been so poorly mismanaged over the past decade that playing at MSG has become like the plague. There is some validity to that, but LeBron’s arrival would change everything. The fan base has always been solid, and the celebrity audience is there each night.

2. There are also the NY-haters who try to down the Knicks and dismiss the idea that LBJ would ever play at the World’s Most Famous Arena. Their whole agenda is to keep the Knicks a laughing stock, and their desires are wrapped in a disdain for everything that is New York.

LA Clippers:

PROS:

1. The Clippers are one of the few teams far enough under the cap to offer LeBron a max contract. They also can disrupt some opposing team’s plans, swoop in at some point and snatch up one of those other big name free agents.

2. The bright lights of LA can be appealing. More movie roles. Celebrities in the stands each night.

3. If LeBron took the stepchild of LA and helped them finally overtake the Lakers, it would bolt him into legendary status. Kobe and The Lakers have been the focus of LA fans for a hot minute now. The Clippers have not been able to climb from behind the Lakers' shadow. Landing the game’s most coveted baller would change the culture of sports in Los Angeles.

CONS:

1. The Clippers are second fiddle to Kobe and The Lakers. People forget the Clippers even play in LA. LeBron would still be competing with a loaded Lakers team, a dominant Kobe and doing it with a team that needs hella help. This is the least likely move for King James.

The future of the NBA hinges on LeBron James’ free agent destination. Especially in The Eastern Conference, where barring a miracle, he is sure to remain. Combine LBJ’s free agency with the other O.G. names available and the league will be upside down next season.

The Celtics are a team of aging all stars. This season’s surprise championship run may be the last hoo-rah for Pierce, Garnett and Allen. Coach Doc Rivers isn’t sure if he is returning either. The future of this team, even with a blossoming Rajon Rondo, is not as bright as its past.

The Cavs are just another team without LeBron. Those 60 win seasons will turn to 30-35 win seasons quickly, if King James doesn’t re-ink with Cleveland.

The Magic have a nice squad and a solid future with Dwight Howard, the game’s best center. They will be competitive for years to come. Unfortunately, they took a step back this season by letting Hedo Turkoglu go and bringing in Vince Carter. Carter displayed the same gutless playoff demeanor that he has become famous for. And as great a defensive player as Dwight Howard is, his free throw shooting and overall offensive game is saucy.

The FAN in me says LeBron is going to grab the challenge by the neck and thrust himself into immortality by signing with the Knicks. The Bulls weren’t ready made when Jordan turned them around. If LeBron is that dude, as everyone says, then The Knicks would be a perfect fit.

The analyst in me says that a source close to the situation keeps trying to convince me that World Wide Wes brokered a “silent” deal with the Bulls a few years ago, already guaranteeing LeBron will sign there.

He may even take the easy way out and be part of a mass move to Miami.

The only thing I am sure about is that LeBron James will feel very loved and wanted after this free agent process. He will also still be ring-less. However, there is no bigger high stakes poker game in the world than the LBJ free agent sweepstakes. Sit back, relax and enjoy this once in a lifetime event. It is sure to play out like a motion picture.

What's New & What's Old School

have read many articles over the Internet, and listened to people using the trendy words: Old School/New School. This trend was initiated in the mid '80s when KOOL MOE DEE and LL Cool J had a lyrical battle over the Air waves. KOOL MOE DEE is one of my favorite rappers, but I disagree with him then, and I disagree with the current trend in dancing. KRS ONE said in one of his tracks,( I'm still #1 from the 1988 By All Means Necessary Album) "Rap is still an art, an no ones from the old school, because 'Rap' is still a brand New tool. I say no one from the old school cause 'Rap' on a whole, isn't even twenty years old. Fifty years down the line you can start this, because we will be the old school artist. . . " These dances are only 20 plus years old. So now we have people saying this dance is old school and this dance is new school, or he is an old school popper and he is a new school popper. First; just look at the dances people are calling old school: Lockin', Poppin, and Breakin', these art forms are still in there developmental stages, when it comes to creating and running a production.

Closely take a look at the word "Old," here is what the American Heritage Dictionary has listed: Mature, Having lived or existed for a long time, Made long ago not new. These dances have not reached its maturity level. We are still struggling for existence, and presently developing these dances to be an acceptable art form.

Poppin', breakin' and lockin' is not club style dancing, so why compare these dances to House, Hip Hop or any current club dance style. These dances are performing, or competition dances. We only used the clubs in the late '70s and '80s, because we thought it was the best place to expose our skills, and get honors from within our communities. Most of us were quite young and did not fully understand from a dancer viewpoint what was the best area to expose these art forms.

House and Hip hop dances are more for the clubs. Yes there are some dancers who have elevated their dancing to a higher level, by combining movements from other art forms, but the general dancers in clubs are dancing with the opposite sex. You cannot do this with lockin', poppin' or breakin, can you imagine a guy walking up to a lady saying lets dance, I mean, lets break together. Back in the '80s this was one of the biggest problems we had with other dancers, we took up so much space just to display our skills. These dances belong in performing or competition environments. The Bboy summit, Radiotron, Battle of the Year, Bboy master, and more stage performances like "Jam on The Groove." I may go to club from time to time and start poppin', this is not the best place to display your skills. We have to learn from our past, club dancing is trendy, and we should not solely rely on clubs for our survival.

It takes a popper, breaker, or locker a lot of years to perfect these art forms, just like Jazz, ballet or gymnastic. Why should we stop dancing, we practiced for years to learn these art forms? No one is going to tell a ballet, or jazz dancer after three or five years of training their dance is played out, and you think they are going to stop dancing, NO!, they are going to continue because they put a lot of time and energy in learning their art form. We feel the same way, why should any of us stop dancing, yes, I went through so many so call played out stages, but I kept doing what I like because my heart is into poppin'. People tell me "yeah, you are a good popper, but that dance is played out" or "are you still doing that dance, man you are too old to be poppin'." No one can start busting windmills or glide after a couple of days practicing these dances. For the movie Flash dance they tried this with a professional dancer, and found out it will take too long for a trained Jazz/ballet dancer to learn how to do a backspin. Just don't even talk about windmills, or advanced footwork.

Precisely look at the dance called Ballet, does a ballet dancer stop dance once they reached the age of 21? NO! Their dancing career is just starting. You have ballet dancers over the age of 50 years old still performing. The older dancers do more then just dance. They have more level of maturity. They are more involved with running the production, and teaching younger dancers. Ballet is one of the dances that fit the description of old school dance, more then lockin' poppin' or breakin. This dance had been around for a long time and it has reached its maturity level. Now they focus more on production and drama, but the movements in ballet are basically the same.

By saying Old school in itself sound played out, or over the hill. There are lots of words we can use. I prefer the term Ken Swift (a member from Rock steady Crew) used in one of his articles. He used the term first generation, second generation, and so on. This is more self explanatory and lets people know how long a dancer been representing. I have a lot of respect for other type of dance forms. We all should come together and support each other, the production called "Jam on the Groove" shows what different types of dance styles can do together. No one should detour us from our goal, fight to have these dances acceptable as some legitimate art form.

NWA: Straight Outta Compton

No One Was Ready for N.W.A's 'Straight Outta Compton.' But It Sold 3 Million Records and Transformed the Music Industry. The beginning of the end of life as we know it occurred here, on a beaten patch of asphalt out in the vast, flat no man's land of greater Los Angeles.

The beginning of the end came unannounced. There was no salute, no blast of trumpets or heavenly choir. It came in the sunken heat of summer at an abandoned drive-in movie theater called the Roadium.

The Roadium was graced by a grand arched gate that, in its day, promised entry to whatever secret kingdom Hollywood could conjure. By the summer of 1985, though, the drive-in, its dreams and innocent magic are relics of a long-gone past. The dull blur of south county towns the Roadium served--Torrance, Lawndale, Hawthorne, Gardena, Carson and Compton--are staging areas in a decade-long descent into what feels at times like a war zone; and at times is. Street corners are outposts in a new crack economy, boulevards battle lines dividing endless variations of Bloods and Crips, usually from one another, always from themselves. With the drive-in theater gone, the stuff of dreams has been traded for just plain stuff. The Roadium's arch now frames an open-air bazaar piled high with cheap Chinese toys, one-size-fits-all Sri Lankan socks, used car batteries, secondhand tool chests, last year's Barbie dolls and canned peas with last week's use-by date. The Roadium is a swap meet.

The first thing you notice are the people. The place is so jammed you wonder how they ever got along without it. At the moment, the biggest crowd surrounds a little stall just inside the old arch. Kids are lined up two, three deep along the perimeter of the stall, whooping and hollering. A lanky Japanese guy, whippet-thin and wired, presides behind a homemade plywood table in the middle of the noise. The table is stacked high with records, LPs and those 12-inch singles that disc jockeys spin. He's got more of the same displayed on a 20-foot-wide pegboard behind him.

He's got so much product that some days, days when the heat is so thick you could lean against it, the table legs sink an inch into the melting asphalt.

The whole place isn't much bigger than a walk-in closet, and it's hot in every way imaginable. The air's an oven, the kids fired by the desire for the new.

"Yo, Steve. Whatcha got?"

"Stevie, Stevie, whatcha got new, man?"

Steve Yano is the man of the moment, an East L.A. guy who has somehow swapped a career as a high school guidance counselor to become the uncrowned king of a swap meet music underground. He has turned his table into the hippest, hottest record store on the West Coast. He's got everything--all the new East Coast hip-hop, the best old-school R&B, all the L.A. dance jams, that locking-and-popping stuff you see on "Soul Train." He has stuff nobody else has, stuff nobody else has ever heard of. He has stuff so new it doesn't even exist yet (not officially), stuff with no labels, no packaging, just the stamp of the new.

It is the new that tugs at the ears of the man who will deliver the beginning of the end of life as we know it. He's a little guy, 5-5, 5-6, tops, with the slow swagger of a hustler fat on house money. Steve Yano remembers him showing up that first day at the Roadium, going through piles of 12-inch singles. Big piles.

"He looks 'em over, stacks 'em up. Then says, 'I'll take these."'

The guy has maybe 20 records in front of him. Yano is used to kids buying one, maybe two at a time. These are not rich kids. They wouldn't be at the swap meet if they were. Yano thinks this guy is scamming.

"All those?" he asks.

"Yeah," the kid says. He's got a high, squeaky voice that makes him sound even younger than he looks. And he looks about 13. He picks up one of the 12-inchers, a cut from some local DJs called the World Class Wreckin' Cru.

"Where you get that from?" he asks.

The question doesn't even register with Yano, who still can't believe the kid has money to buy all the records he has in front of him.

"All of them?" he asks.

"Sure," the kid says, and reaches down in his sock. He comes back up with a roll of cash. He peels the bills off. Bam. Just like that.

Then he says: "Tell Dre, Eric says, 'Whassup?' "

With that, Eric Wright turns and walks off with a stack of records half as big as he is. Yano, of course, tells Dre nothing. Dre, Andre Young, a member of the Wreckin' Cru, is one of the hottest young DJs in L.A. He doesn't need to be bothered, man. Not with this kid anyhow.

Wright comes back the next weekend, asks about Dre again, wants his numbers. He's polite but persistent and comes back every week. Yano finally asks Dre if he knows a homeboy named Eric Wright. And damned if Dre doesn't.

"Next thing I know," Yano says, "those guys are on a three-way call with me at 2 in the morning. Eric wants to open a record store. I tell him, 'Don't do it. It's a bad business. I can show you how, but don't do it.' "

Eric has money--street money, dope money--and wants to go straight. Dre, meanwhile, bugs Yano, who knows every low-level somebody in the record business in all of Los Angeles, to start a record label. Dre wants a place to put out his own music.

In time, these dreams merged and came true. Eric went into the record business, all right, not with a corner store but with his own label and Dre was on it. Soon that label, Ruthless Records, sent out into the world some of the weirdest, funniest, saddest, maddest music anybody ever heard. Out of that little swap meet stall came the partnership that rocked, then overran the record business.

The partnership took full form in the hip-hop group Niggaz With Attitude, which in 1988 released a record called "Straight Outta Compton." This was the group's first national release. N.W.A was largely unknown. The record contained no hit singles. In most of the country, nothing from the record was played even once on the radio. It was too crude, too misogynistic, too violent. MTV, which had by then established itself as the primary gatekeeper of popular culture, refused to play N.W.A videos.

No radio, no television and no publicity.

"Straight Outta Compton" sold 3 million records.

The music it contained was so perverse, so nihilistic, so forbidden, politicians--then and still--elbowed each other out of the way to condemn it. Highbrow critics couldn't find language strong enough to critique it; they went further, questioning whether it was even music at all. It's barbaric, they said. Hide the women and children; bar the doors. Too late.

Gangsta rap was in the house.

Locking and Popping

The content of youth culture today is, to a significant extent, hip-hop: hip-hop records, hip-hop fashion, hip-hop film, hip-hop attitude. It is the only genre of popular entertainment that cuts consistently across class, ethnicity, gender and age. Just as rock music was a vehicle for the countercultural attitudes that provoked social upheaval among the middle classes in the 1960s, hip-hop in general and gangsta rap in particular have carried urban underclass sensibilities to the wider society--which has reacted with equal parts enchantment, imitation and outrage.

But in the first half of the 1980s, people in the Los Angeles-based record industry saw hip-hop as an East Coast fad. Hip-hop's few national hits were dismissed as novelties. Southern California was in the grip of a dance epidemic, a local disco fever. A DJ collective called Uncle Jamm's Army played Culver City east to Pomona; the Dream Team owned South-Central. A forceful young man named Lonzo Williams worked the clubs and parties from Gardena to Long Beach.

Lonzo had been an ardent dancer who started DJing to make money. While still at Compton High School, he booked house and block parties, graduating to 1,000-plus-seat venues such as Alpine Village in Torrance and even the Queen Mary.

Lonzo landed a regular gig at Eve After Dark, a new Compton nightclub. On Fridays he would spin records from 9 at night until 5 the next morning, turning the crowd over three or four times. To share the load, Lonzo in the early 1980s built a team of DJs called Disco Construction; then, as disco died, the World Class Wreckin' Cru. The Cru played the usual: Donna Summer, Average White Band, George Clinton, Parliament and Prince.

Eve was a high-class club--dresses for the ladies and ties and slacks for the gentlemen. Lonzo dressed his Jheri-curled DJs in matching lavender outfits and devised Temptations-style choreography. The club became a fixture on the dance map of Los Angeles. "People came out in droves," Lonzo recalls. "It was a constant party."

A young Compton kid started hanging around outside Eve, which didn't serve alcohol but had an age limit. His name was Andre Young. He was 17, still a student at Centennial High, and already a three-year DJ veteran.

Young pestered Lonzo for a spot on the Cru. On a night when one of the regulars didn't show, Lonzo gave the new kid a shot.

Lonzo says the key to DJing in such a competitive scene was to "find the most obscure record you could and play it." Dre was young, but he had tremendous musical knowledge. He'd been listening forever to his mother's extensive rhythm-and-blues and jazz record collection. When she came home after work at night, he once said, the stereo went on before the lights. He DJed for her and her friends when he was barely school age.

That first night at Eve, Young mixed the old Motown song "Please Mr. Postman" over Afrika Bambaataa's seminal hip-hop recording, "Planet Rock"--two songs with completely different tempos and moods. For whatever reason, it worked.

The crowd went crazy and Lonzo went, "Hmm, what do we have here?"

One of the most popular acts in town at the time was Uncle Jamm's Army, in which the DJs built identifiable characters--essentially roles they played onstage. One, a heartthrob named Egyptian Lover, did several numbers exploring the racier dimensions of his love life. Lonzo admired Young's musical talent, but even more he saw the good-looking young ladies' man as a draw, his answer to Egyptian Lover. Young joined the Wreckin' Cru under the stage name Dr. Dre in honor of Julius Erving, the basketball player known as Doctor J. Lonzo booked other acts into Eve, including the first L.A.-area appearances of New York rappers Kurtis Blow and Run-DMC. When the Wreckin' Cru saw Run-DMC for the first time, they looked at one another in amazement, recalls Antoine Carraby, a DJ known as Yella.

Run-DMC was a Eureka moment.

" 'This is it? It's not even a 10-minute show. We can do this.' That's exactly how it started," says Yella. "We can do this."

They began writing their own material. It didn't seem to matter that none of them were musicians. Yella could program a drum machine. Otherwise, they were lost.

"We were DJs. What we knew was partying," Lonzo says. "I can't play dead. I can't play the radio."

No matter. Dre was naturally musical in a way that most DJs only dreamed about. Dre and Yella hung out during the day at Eve After Dark, listening to records, figuring out how to replicate instrumental tracks on an old four-track recording deck in the back room. It was, Dre says, how he learned record production.

In 1984, they went into Audio Achievements studio in Torrance, where for $100 they recorded two tracks--one called Slice, the other Kru Groove. The music--a fast-beat techno sound influenced by the German band Kraftwerk--consisted mainly of drum tracks programmed by Yella and Dre's turntable scratching, the distinctive wicky, wicky sound made by manipulating a turntable by hand. Another member of the group, Marquette Hawkins, known as DJ Cli-N-Tel, rapped lyrics that mostly said how clever Yella was to have written them. They took the tracks to Macola Records, a small, independent label in Hollywood where you could have records pressed in lots as small as 500. For virtual pocket change, they were now proud owners of a two-sided, 12-inch dance single. They began selling it out of the trunk of Lonzo's car to independent record stores throughout Los Angeles.

"We sold 5,000 of them," Lonzo says. "Five thousand! That's like ghetto gold."

The New Mall

Steve Yano was a grad student in educational psychology at Cal State L.A. when he saw an ad on campus for a part-time job delivering records to stores in the area. Within a year, he found himself part owner of a record store with the man who had hired him. The store did well enough but couldn't support them both, so Yano sold his half of the business to his partner. Yano took payment in merchandise.

"At about this time, the West Coast swap meet scene just blew up," Yano says. "I spent the week, Monday through Friday, searching for product. Hitting all the spots in town, going through used record bins. Weekends, I'd sell at the meet. I went to every single pawnshop in L.A. You could buy 10 records for a dollar. I knew I could sell three of them for two bucks each."

At the peak of disco fever, Yano got a stall at one of the busiest swap meets in California--the Roadium on Redondo Beach Boulevard in Torrance. Customers at the Roadium were mainly African American, and Yano began to tailor his product to fit the customers. "Then there started to be this new type of talk--R&B, Grandmaster Flash, Kurtis Blow, Run-DMC," Yano says. "These guys are popping. Kids are talking about it. Do you have any 12-inch? Nobody has it. They've never heard of it. Finally, I found out places you can get some."

Among those sources was Lonzo Williams. Yano called him.

"Oh yeah, sure," Lonzo said. "How many you need?"

"Three or four," Yano answered.

"Pretty soon it was, 'I'll take 10 of these. Then 50,' " Yano says. "Pretty soon Lonzo is coming to me with stuff and I'm carrying 100 titles. I'm selling 100 a week of some of them. The DJ craze hits. Now everybody and their mother is a DJ and they all want the latest [music]. So they all come to me. I was selling a lot of 12-inch vinyl. I mean, a lot. Pretty soon other dealers are coming to me. I'm meeting these guys outside bowling alleys in parking lots at midnight. It was like we were dealing drugs.

"I become for a while a very important guy. I'm buying 500 copies of a title. The first place anybody called in L.A. was me. 'Play this. Whattya think?' All these label guys are starting to bring me their new records. I could tell the first weekend if something is going to sell just by how the kids react. If it was good, kids would start to break dance right there in the stall."

One day, when Yano went to Eve After Dark to meet Lonzo, he heard Dre and Yella in one of their practice sessions.

KDAY, a local radio station, had converted to an all hip-hop format, the first station in the country to do so. The station had a daily feature called Traffic Jam, and it solicited local DJs to make mixes. Dre and Yella did mixes several times a week--Yella on the drum machine, Dre scratching on the turntable.

Yano listened, rapt. "Is that how you do it?" he asked.

"You want us to make you a tape?" Yella answered. Yano took the tape to the swap meet the next weekend.

"I'm playing it," Yano says, "and people go, 'Who did that tape? Can I get that?"'

Calling Dr. Dre

By the mid-1980s, much of the record business had evolved into large integrated companies that did everything from signing artists, assigning them producers and songs, then promoting and selling their records through sales staffs. More and more, the records were marketed through giant retail chains.

Low profit margins made store rack space too valuable to waste on unknown artists. This was less true in black communities, where small, locally owned retailers hung on and where there was an enduring demand not just for what was popular but for what was novel. These stores provided an outlet for the new music that the big chains wouldn't risk stocking. This helped make hip-hop possible in the first place.

While Lonzo worked the local market, Don MacMillan, the owner of Macola Records, distributed Wreckin' Cru recordings to an informal network of independent distributors around the country. MacMillan had several hip-hop acts on Macola. The artists were drawn to him by the easy terms. He would press records in small quantities and send them out. He didn't care who was making the records or what was on them.

MacMillan let the artists put their own labels on the recordings and control their own publishing. Lonzo called his label Kru-Cut Records.

After modest success with its first 12-inch single, the Cru had a hit with "Surgery," a 1984 number written and produced by Dre that sold 50,000 records--a huge amount for an independently made and distributed record. "Surgery" was typical of the Wreckin' Cru's music: basic electronic funk, a fast drum machine beat, lots of turntable scratching and silly lyrics ("Calling Dr. Dre to surgery").

The Wreckin' Cru started making the transition from dance hall DJs to recording artists. They followed "Surgery" with "Juice" in 1985 and put out an album called "World Class" that same year. CBS Records called. Larkin Arnold, an executive, wanted a meeting. "Larkin was like the black godfather of music. If he said there was a meeting, there was a meeting," Lonzo says.

The meeting went well. Arnold said he'd get back to them, and the Wreckin' Cru went on tour as an opening act for Rick James. The Cru measured its success night to night by how many girls they could coax to their hotel rooms. Most nights, they earned high marks. "We had showmanship," Lonzo says.

They did their dance steps, wore lace gloves, makeup and rhinestone satin costumes. These were, in their way, almost quaint reminders of Lonzo's old-school roots. On the road, Lonzo got a call from his lawyer. CBS was offering a contract with a $100,000 advance.

Are you interested, the lawyer wanted to know.

"Interested? Sign the damned contract!" Lonzo screamed. "You got power of attorney. Sign it before they change their minds."

Lonzo pauses at this point in the story. He now owns a small club on Manchester Boulevard in Inglewood. It's empty in the way that only a nightclub at noon can be. He looks around and shakes his head.

"It was the worst thing that ever happened," he says. "From that point on, we had nothing but dissension over money."

Dre complained that Lonzo wasn't paying him enough. He was the musical foundation of the Wreckin' Cru but was being paid as one of the guys. That category--one of the guys--meant everybody except Lonzo, who, in his own defense, says that no one understood how much it cost him to keep the Wreckin' Cru operating. It was his group; he paid for everything--advertising, recording costs, travel, equipment. It was only fair that he be paid more money. The irony was that the more successful the group became, the worse things got. This had been Lonzo's one big chance. It left without him. He shakes his head again. "One day you're cool, the next day you're not. By the time we came off the road, we were on the down slide," Lonzo says. "Something happened with those guys."

Boys Become Boyz

The Wreckin' Cru was Lonzo's group. He decided what music they did. As much as Dre complained about money, he told friends that he was equally frustrated with the Wreckin' Cru's musical direction.

"I'm inviting Dre and Yella out to the stall. They're cutting records right there at the Roadium," Yano says. "Somebody plays it at a party. Everybody goes, 'What's that?' But you can't get it. You can't buy it anywhere. It was unbelievable. Dre says, 'Why don't you make a label?' I said, 'No way.' "

Dre kept asking. Yano kept saying no.

"Then one day," Yano says, "along comes Eazy."

There was no reason to think Eazy-E (Eric Wright) knew anything about any business but selling dope.

But being a dope man imposed certain career limitations. When he wandered by Yano's swap meet stall in 1985, at 22, he had resolved to get a new occupation. He told one friend if all else failed he would do what his father had done: go to work at the post office.

First, though, he wanted to give the music business a try. And it was clear to everyone that it was the money more than the music that interested him.

"Even as a kid, he was a businessman," Yano says.

This was something Dre notably was not. He was a terrible manager of his own affairs, forever broke. He made matters worse by ignoring money matters when he could. He racked up parking tickets and traffic citations, then didn't pay them until the fines doubled or tripled or he was jailed for not paying at all.

"What you gonna do? Couldn't leave him in jail, you might have a gig that weekend," Lonzo says.

So Lonzo bailed Dre out repeatedly. Finally, it happened one time too many. The call came, Dre asked and Lonzo said: "You know what? I'm gonna let your butt sit in jail for a while. Maybe you'll learn something."

"So he calls Eazy," Lonzo says.

Eazy and Dre cut a deal: Eazy would bail Dre out of jail; Dre would produce records for Eazy's new record company. Of course, Eazy's record company existed only in Eazy's mind. The idea of a minor-league dope dealer starting a record company from scratch was not as preposterous as it might seem. It was possible to create a virtual record company, although nobody called it that at the time. The existence of Macola Records, basically a fee-for-service pressing plant, lowered the bar to enter the record business to next to nothing.

Macola provided all of the infrastructure to manufacture and distribute records. Studios could be rented. And the music itself could be made quickly and cheaply. All Eazy really needed was ambition, which he had, and Dre.

"They come by the stall one day," Yano says. "I got a guy there doing T-shirts, spraying them. Eazy says, 'Whattya think of Ruthless? Ruthless Records?' " "That's cool," Yano said.

And the T-shirt guy painted what would become the logo for Ruthless Records.
Eazy Duz It

Eazy now had a name but still no artists, no material, no plan. Dre gave him a tape from a New York rap duo called HBO. Eazy agreed to record them as the debut artists for Ruthless. He booked time at Audio Achievements, where the Wreckin' Cru records were made. He asked Dre for a song.

Dre had been writing with O'Shea Jackson, a young Compton MC who lived four doors down from one of Dre's cousins. Jackson had been writing rhymes since grade school in L.A.'s Crenshaw district. Dre became a mentor. He'd pick Jackson up after school and take him along to clubs and to Lonzo's garage, which they had converted into a ramshackle recording studio.

Dre produced an album by Jackson, Dre's cousin Jinx and a third friend, Kid Disaster. They called their group CIA (Criminals In Action). Jackson adopted the stage name Ice Cube. Like a lot of kids, Cube was a huge fan of the comedian Richard Pryor. Cube's parents had Pryor's records, which in addition to being hilarious were exceptionally profane. Cube listened to the albums when his parents left the house. He started writing similarly obscene rap parodies of popular songs.

"We knew the value of language, especially profanity. We weren't that sophisticated, but we knew the power it had," Cube says.

He and Dre started DJing together at clubs and the Compton Skateland roller rink. Dre would play the instrumental tracks of popular hip-hop songs and Cube would rap obscene versions of the original lyrics. One of the highlights was a version of the Run-DMC hit "My Adidas" that Cube transformed into "My Penis." The Skateland kids loved it. Cube wrote constantly. "I never stopped," he says. "I had notebooks full of raps." Among them was one called "Boyz N Tha Hood" that Cube wrote during English class at Taft High School in Woodland Hills, where he was bused from South-Central. Cube showed the rhyme to Dre, who made an instrumental track for it. When HBO showed up in Torrance to record, Dre gave them "Boyz." HBO balked. Too West Coast, they said, and walked out. Eazy was stuck with the bill for an empty recording studio. Since Dre, Cube and the others were already in various groups, Dre urged Eazy to rap the song. Eazy resisted. He was a businessman. He knew nothing about rapping. Dre persisted, and with no other option, Eazy did the song.

He had no rap experience or skills, and it showed. It took two days to make the track. "We all laughed 'cuz it was so bad," Lonzo says.

"Boyz N Tha Hood" is the story of a young man's misadventures with friends, cars, girls and guns on a single afternoon. It opens with him "cruisin' down tha street in my '64." He sees a friend driving a stolen car. He catches another friend trying to steal his car stereo and shoots him. He has a couple of drinks, gets in a fight with his girlfriend, then with her father. He wrecks the car and, finally, walking home, sees the guy with the stolen car from the first verse fight with police. A busy day. "I can sell that," Yano said.

Eazy took it to Macola, had a pressing done, and Yano started selling the 12-inch singles at the swap meet.

"Kids are just loving it," Yano says. "We had the best promotion you could ever get, promotion at the grass-roots street level."

Eazy would drive up to Hollywood, ostensibly to talk to Don MacMillan. "He'd go to Macola, go into the back room and steal his own records," says Lorenzo Patterson, a young rapper whom Eazy recruited to join his label. "We'd take 'em out through the back door and throw them into his Jeep."

Eazy hired "snipers"--friends, gangbangers, ordinary guys who wanted to make a couple bucks--to take the records around to neighborhood stores. They gave away cassette copies to kids in the projects who were leaders of their own little cliques.

Against all odds, "Boyz N Tha Hood" became a hit.

"The response told us we'd found our niche, to be ourselves," says Cube. Eazy persuaded Dre, Cube, Yella and another local rapper named Mik Lezan, known as the Arabian Prince, to form an all-star group. Dre and Yella would make the beats; Cube would write the lyrics; Arabian Prince, Cube and Eazy would rap them. They could all continue to do their own things and get together on the side to make wild records for Ruthless.

It was an informal collective. People came and went in the studio. Cube, just out of high school, surprised everybody by leaving town to take a course in architectural drafting in Arizona. "If this record thing didn't work out, I didn't want to be out there digging ditches," Cube says. The Arabian Prince left too--for a solo career. As replacements Eazy brought in Patterson, who went by the name M.C. Ren, and Tray Curry, a Texas rapper who performed as The D.O.C. Eazy auditioned Ren in his mother's Compton garage, where he had recording gear set up. Ren had been writing rhymes since junior high. He rhymed equations in algebra class

. "He told me to start rapping about anything," Ren says. "So I started rapping about [stuff] in the garage. He liked it, took the tape to Dre. Dre signed me on the spot. Took me to a notary public he knew in Lakewood, signed me to a contract. There was no money or nothing. I didn't care. I was like, 'Fine.' "

Ren says Eazy's pitch was straightforward: at Ruthless, you could make records you couldn't make at other labels; it would be a place where nobody would tell you what you couldn't do. The records would all be like "Boyz N Tha Hood"--full of sex and guns, drinking and drugging. It would be stuff their friends would buy. At 24, Yella was the oldest of the crew. Eazy was 23; Dre, 21; Ren, 20; Cube, 18.

One day, hanging out at the Arabian Prince's house in Inglewood, they arrived at a name for the new group. They wanted something everybody would identify with the West Coast. Somebody suggested From Compton With Love.

"Hell, no!" everyone shouted.

"Then," Ren recalls, "Eazy says, 'How 'bout N.W.A, Niggaz With Attitude?' Everybody's like, 'Hell, yeah. N.W.A it is.' "

The Permanent Business

As the label took shape, Eazy bugged Lonzo for an introduction to Jerry Heller, a veteran talent manager. Lonzo had met Heller at Macola, which was a kind of social club for the emerging local hip-hop scene.

"We all heard of Jerry. He was always there at Don's," Lonzo says. "At one time he had almost everybody on the West Coast signed up. Throw it against the wall and see what sticks. That's what he was doing."

Lonzo and Heller had become friendly. Lonzo was older than many of the other guys, and he and Heller had an easy rapport. Lonzo didn't much like Eazy. For one thing, he thought Eazy was prying Dre away from him.

"The original plan was for Dre to produce Eazy and stay in the Cru," Lonzo says. "Dre was enticed by Eazy's lifestyle. He got tired of the flashy costumes, got tired of practicing the choreography. He wanted to be a rapper.

"I'm fighting for the Wreckin' Cru and I can't compete. There's a musical divide. I thought their music was good, but I wasn't into it. I loved ballads."

In the end, Lonzo agreed to introduce Eazy to Heller, but he made it clear he wasn't doing it as a friend. He charged Eazy $750. The introduction took place in March 1987 in the Macola lobby. "Eazy took the money out of his sock right there and paid Lonzo," Heller says.

Heller was an old pro, a part of what music people call "the permanent business." Denizens of the permanent business have a genius mainly for endurance. They hang around, surfing the erratic waves of popularity that define pop culture. Heller had made and lost at least one fortune already. A middle-class, middle-aged, middle-of-the-road white guy with no musical ability, he had been managing musicians dating back to Creedence Clearwater Revival in the 1960s. By the 1980s, Heller's fortunes had declined. He was, he says, "burned out on the industry."

"Then I heard about this scene at Macola, this pressing plant on Santa Monica Boulevard," Heller says. "For a thousand dollars, he'd press 500 records."

Eazy told Heller about the kind of record company he wanted. Then he played "Boyz N Tha Hood" and a new N.W.A song, "Straight Outta Compton."

"It blew me away," Heller says. "I thought it was the most important music I had ever heard."

They agreed to form a partnership and sealed the deal with a drink at Martini's, a Hollywood hangout. Heller decided that what N.W.A needed most was better promotion and distribution. That fall, Heller sent the band on tour and went shopping for a partner. The tour was far from glamorous. For much of it, N.W.A shared the bill with Salt-N-Pepa, a group of three women with national hits. Salt-N-Pepa flew between dates while N.W.A drove in a van.

Salt-N-Pepa found it greatly amusing that the hard-core Compton "gangsters" had to drive themselves. "Used to laugh at us: 'When y'all's plane leaving?' " Ren says.

Heller wasn't having a great deal more fun trying to sell the group. He says Columbia Records executive Joe Smith's reaction, upon hearing a demo tape, was typical. Smith offered to purchase the name Ruthless, which he thought had possibilities, but wanted nothing to do with the records.

"Are you crazy?" Heller remembers Smith asking. "What the hell would make you believe somebody is going to buy this crap?"

Some evidence was beginning to accumulate that Smith was wrong. Heller took Eazy to New York to introduce him at an industry gathering. They were in an elevator at the Park Lane Hotel. The elevator stopped and let on Joseph Simmons and Darryl McDaniels, the front men for Run-DMC. Heller and Eazy immediately recognized Simmons and McDaniels, who in turn gave Heller and, especially, Eazy the once over. Then, recognition having dawned, Simmons and McDaniels started softly rapping the lyrics to "Boyz N Tha Hood."

"They knew every word," Heller says. "The record had never been played on radio anywhere. It's a 12-inch single distributed locally. And they knew the whole thing." Seizing on the underground success of "Boyz," Macola's Don MacMillan compiled that song, a bunch of demos and rough recordings various people had done under the Ruthless banner and issued it as an album under the name "N.W.A and the Posse." Only three of the songs on the album were performed by what would become N.W.A. The record didn't sell in huge numbers, but it started building N.W.A's reputation.

Johnny Phillips, a record distributor in Memphis, remembers a call around this time from one of his accounts, an independent record store in Cincinnati, asking about a record by a group called N.W.A that was being played in local clubs.

"I called Macola, bought a couple hundred of them. By the next month we were reordering five, six, seven thousand a week. As soon as we got 'em, we sold 'em."

Phillips, the nephew of Sam Phillips, the man who discovered Elvis Presley, was a key distributor for Priority Records, a fledgling company in Los Angeles. He sent Priority a copy of the Macola album. Priority was the creation of Bryan Turner and Mark Cerami, former K-Tel Records executives. They had started the label just two years before and made some money issuing a line of rap compilation albums. Then they hit it big with an unlikely novelty hit, the California raisins.

Television commercials for the California raisin industry had featured a musical quartet of animated raisins singing the soul classic "I Heard It Through the Grapevine." Priority licensed the rights to the singing raisins and put out an album of soul oldies. They sold 2 million copies. As a result, Priority was flush with cash and looking for new talent.

Coincidentally, Priority's offices were on the same floor of a Hollywood building as Jerry Heller's office. Turner, Cerami and Heller knew one another casually, and Heller had just been in to pitch N.W.A.

Cerami went to see the group perform. It was like the Beatles, he said. That sealed it. N.W.A was set to follow in the footsteps of the California raisins.

Paint Ball Politics

In the record business, money is spent on two things: recording music and promoting it. By the time N.W.A went into the studio to make its first real album, "Straight Outta Compton," a typical studio album cost well more than $100,000 to produce. Some cost 10 times that much.

The more money that was spent and made, the greater the size of the record company that would manage it.

One of the great gifts hip-hop gave to the music community was liberation from these corporate bureaucracies. Most hip-hop records were being made by small companies on low budgets--"on machines you could buy for $200 at Toys R Us," Heller says.

The other half of up-front costs--promotion and marketing--is spent mainly trying to get radio stations to play records. With N.W.A, there was no chance radio stations were going to touch the stuff, so there was no sense throwing money at them.

"You couldn't spend money on radio, so basically you couldn't spend money," Turner says. This, coupled with low production costs, made the economics of an N.W.A record utterly different.

"I could sell fifty, sixty, seventy thousand of these records and make money," Turner says.

With those numbers and with almost no investment, Priority could afford to both sign N.W.A and leave the group alone. After its brief tour, N.W.A, with Cube back home from Arizona, went into the studio with complete freedom to make whatever record they wanted to make. And they did.

"Straight Outta Compton" has been described variously as a work of revolutionary genius, a painful scream from the bleak streets of black America and, more commonly, as reprehensible trash with no redeeming value. It is all of that, and remains startling because of it.

"It's just an image," says Ren. "We got to do something that would distinguish ourselves. We was just trying to be different."

The fifth word on the first song on "Straight Outta Compton" is unprintable in The Times. The same word and many variations of it recur with regularity thereafter.

The record is laced with language you don't hear on the radio or in polite society. That was the beauty of it and, from the group's point of view, the joy of it. "We were going to write about the street. Cussing and hollering," Ren says. They didn't give a damn about polite society, or anything beyond the narrow world of the low-level street hooligans they wrote about.

What is most shocking about the album is not the language but the gleeful, celebratory hedonism of it, the misogyny and violence and dark-as-midnight nihilism. As a listener, you get the sense you're learning more about something than you really want to know, something you might at some point be called to testify about.

When people talk about the album's political and social power, they're referring mainly to the first three of 13 songs: "Straight Outta Compton," "F--- Tha Police" and "Gangsta, Gangsta."

The other 10 tracks are party songs, some of them great dance tracks but lyrically silly and forgettable. Several songs had been recorded previously and were redone for the album. It is a measure of the power of the first three songs that they have been able to drown out memory of the other 10. Dre has at times seemed embarrassed at the rawness of the whole affair, saying the record was crudely made. Others see this as a virtue, part of the album's immediacy. The record was made in just six weeks. It cost about $8,000 and has the loose sense of a bunch of guys having one hell of a good time--except Ice Cube, who is ferociously angry throughout.

"Think about how you felt at that age," Cube says. "I was mad at everything. When I went to the schools in the Valley, going through those neighborhoods, seeing how different they were from mine, that angered me. The injustice of it, that's what always got me--the injustice."

The group was not political in any way other than the most elementary sense. Cube's lyrics were more socially aware than he was. "F--- Tha Police" was at least as dismissive of the police as it was an attack on them. The group wasn't even going to record it initially. When Cube first showed the lyrics to Dre, he passed. "What else you got?" Dre asked.

It was only after Dre and Eazy were caught shooting paint balls at people at Torrance bus stops that Dre changed his mind about the song.

Cube was the main lyricist for the album. Dre and Yella shared the producer's credit. They were almost always the first ones in the Torrance studio and the last to leave. Others came and went as need or whim dictated. It was clear who was in charge.

"Dre was like the main ear," Ren says. "He'd tell you, 'Try to make it like this.' You'd do it. He'd be like, 'Cool.' Or, 'That's terrible.' Dre'd look at you like, you dumb mother . . . ."

The results do not match Dre's later musical sophistication; few things do. It was, as Priority's Bryan Turner points out, his first real album. Even so, the sound of the album is as powerful as the lyrics--and more varied. The fast-beat Wreckin' Cru techno is absent, replaced by slower, deeper, funkier rhythm tracks set in a scrap heap soundscape of sirens, gunshots, shouts, curses and cars. The overall effect can be ominous.

Hip-hop from its beginnings has been intensely place-based. Rappers have told us about their neighborhoods and towns, praising them and criticizing others. Regional chauvinism became a defining characteristic; geographic feuds a part of the drama. N.W.A made a virtue of necessity in celebrating Compton, a place few people had ever heard of outside Southern California. To this day, all that many people know of it is what N.W.A told them. In a way, people read both too much and too little into "Straight Outta Compton." Too much was made of supposed political motivations and probably not enough of the fact that these were kids making records for other kids.

Few people placed the record inside a broader regional tradition to which it clearly belongs. California pop music in the last 40 years has had four periods of peak popularity: mid-'60s surf and hot-rod music; late-'60s psychedelia; '70s laid-back country rock; and gangsta rap of the late '80s through the '90s.

As distinct as these genres are, they share a notably self-indulgent worldview. No matter who's singing--Beach Boys, Jefferson Airplane, the Eagles or Niggaz With Attitudes--or about what, California hedonism prevails. As Cube put it in "Gangsta, Gangsta," life is just girls and money, or words to that effect.

In almost any other medium, the same content would have been received more calmly. It would have been analyzed as an artistic stance, not a lifestyle. (These weren't, after all, real gangsters.) Dre would have been exalted as a postmodern master, Frank Gehry at the mixing board, cobbling scraps of James Brown funk to cool Euro techno in a way that made both seem more alive. Cube would have been doing political commentary on CNN and Eazy's autobiography would have been a business school staple.

People forgot that these were songs, fictions. Almost inevitably, establishment forces denounced "Straight Outta Compton." It set off a long-running, unresolved debate about the content of pop culture.

The ubiquity of pop music encourages overreaction; it's the only art form that blasts out of a 200-watt amp in the Toyota next to you at the stoplight on Slauson, the artillery thump of the bass vibrating shop windows a block away. Or, more to the point, the stoplight might be on Magic Mountain Parkway in Valencia; or any intersection in Bethesda, Md., Waukegan, Ill., or Redmond, Ore. Or, for that matter, in Tokyo, Paris or Rio.

From nearly the beginning, as soon as N.W.A broke out of the swap meet scene, the group sold most of its records far beyond the boundaries of black neighborhoods. Eventually, Priority calculated, 80% of the sales of "Straight Outta Compton" were in the suburbs, mainly to teenage boys who wouldn't know real niggaz if one woofed in their ears.

The FBI Helps Out

The record came out in late 1988. Radio wanted nothing to do with it. When the group taped a music video, MTV refused to play it. Still, sales climbed into the hundreds of thousands.

"How did it happen? I was there from the beginning and experienced pretty much every part of it from up close, and it's still inexplicable," says David King, a Priority salesman. "Other labels would ask me how we did it. I couldn't answer. Basically, we just manufactured and shipped records. And people kept asking for more."

In other words, "Straight Outta Compton" sold itself.

Johnny Phillips, the Memphis record distributor, cites the unusual relationship between small, black-owned record stores and their customers. "Black consumers in particular will buy where they can trust the store. Doesn't matter what it is. We've sold to combination record store/barber shops, even a pet store/record store."

Turner says the knowledge of distributors such as Phillips was crucial in getting the record introduced nationally. "Those were the really critical relationships, with the mom-and-pop stores, because there was a whole list of them that could actually get your record promoted, get your record sold because kids would come buy it. There was such a demand for rap and such a lack of supply."

At first the album received little national attention; sales built region by region. When it broke within an area, it crossed over to white markets almost immediately, King says. The hardest part was getting stores to stock it. "Once you got it in, that's all it took," King says. "It sold fast with junior high kids. It was illicit, forbidden fruit."

By the middle of 1989, six months after its release, "Straight Outta Compton" was a stealth phenomenon. Then N.W.A got lucky--perversely so. Milt Ahlerich, an assistant director of the FBI, sent a letter to Priority, accusing the label of selling a record ("F---Tha Police") that encouraged "violence against and disrespect for the law-enforcement officer." Ahlerich didn't propose to do anything. There was nothing he could do. He said merely that "we in the law enforcement community take exception to such action."

The bureau's interpretation of the song was so literal it's a wonder it didn't form a task force to dig up the bodies that Eazy, Ren and Cube bragged about dispatching. Bryan Turner didn't know how to react.

"I was scared. You kidding? It was the FBI. I'm just a kid from Canada, what do I know?" Turner says. "I showed it to some lawyers. They said they [the FBI] couldn't do anything. That made me feel better. Then we circulated the letter. The thing was like a nuclear explosion. Once we circulated that, everybody wanted to hear the record the FBI wanted to suppress."

N.W.A went back on tour. Sure enough, they were banned from performing in some cities, touching off small riots. Every time it happened, there was a spate of publicity followed by a spurt in sales. "It was free publicity as far as I was concerned," Yella says. Bill Adler, a former rap label executive, says it's simple to identify elements of a hit record. "Pop music is teen music. The stuff that's going to explode are the things that appeal to teens. Girls want somebody cute. Boys want somebody tough."

What could possibly be tougher than to have the FBI after you?

"The FBI helped out," Heller says. "MTV banned the 'Straight Outta Compton' video and we sold 100,000 copies. A whole cultural phenomenon. Several months into it, Elle did a 10-page spread on gangster chic in the foreign edition. We did a Newsweek cover." N.W.A woke the music industry to the huge commercial possibilities of hard-core hip-hop.

Eventually people quit asking if hip-hop was a fad. Rap music worked its way on to the radio, dominated it to some extent, ending what had been a decade of de facto radio racial segregation. Hip-hop, now dominated by gangsta rap descendants, is the best-selling music in the world.

"The economics of it were staggering. Just staggering," Heller says. If you were with Warner Bros., for example, and you sold 500,000 records, they might drop you from the label. The way we were doing it, if you sold 200,000 records you made a quarter million dollars. And you made it right there. We'd take the check to the bank, cash it and split it up on the corner."

Whether all of the checks were for the right amount would later become a subject of much debate and litigation, but for the time being N.W.A was riding down Main Street in the biggest parade any of them had ever imagined.

Consider the things that had to happen for "Straight Outta Compton" to become a hit record.

It required an economic catastrophe to overwhelm metropolitan Los Angeles, leaving African American neighborhoods in shambles, their residents in despair. It required a crack epidemic to then sweep through those same streets, offering more misery but also complicated opportunities that enriched people such as Eric Wright.

It required the invention of the VCR and the sudden, unforeseen decline of drive-in movie theaters, creating the space where new American bazaars--the swap meets--would rise. It required the existence of Macola Records, an old-school oddity hanging on in a new-school world, and the persistence of inner-city, word-of-mouth recommendations in an age of mass-media dominance. It apparently even required the existence of animated raisins lip-synching Marvin Gaye records.

This history is a crooked street, crowded with more happy accidents than are comfortable to contemplate. It begins to seem like fate. It begins to seem as if Puffy Combs might have underestimated Dr. Dre when he said, "Dre is to rap what God is to the church."

I Shot a Man in Reno

Here are sample lyrics from yet another song without redeeming social value:

"Early one morning while makin' the rounds,

I took a shot of cocaine and I shot my baby down

I shot her down then I went to bed,

I stuck that lovin' forty-four beneath my head."

The song continues with the protagonist chased and caught by police, then sent to prison. In the last verse, unrepentant to the end, he laments that he "can't forget the day I shot that bad bitch down." He regrets only getting caught.

Rap critics would be right in finding very little social uplift in this song, "Cocaine Blues," recorded by Roy Hogshead. Hogshead, however, was not a rap star. He didn't even have a nickname.

He recorded this song in 1947, and at least five versions of it have been made since. Johnny Cash sang it on his best-selling "Live at Folsom Prison" album in 1968. Nobody protested or even noticed.

Alan Light, founding editor of Vibe magazine, an influential hip-hop publication, says he asked Cash about the potential harmful effects of rap lyrics. Cash referred back to the Folsom Prison record, specifically to the title song, which includes the line, "I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die." You know, Cash said, I don't recall ever hearing about anyone listening to that song, then going to Reno and shooting somebody.

Neither, as far as anyone knows, has anybody killed a police officer after hearing N.W.A's "F--- Tha Police." So why did the FBI send a letter to N.W.A? Alan Light contrasts the reception of rap music with that of other popular arts that sometimes celebrate violence. Some of the best movies ever made--the "Godfather" series, for example--are exceptionally violent, and no one attempts to ban them. Dre points this out when he compares "Straight Outta Compton" to "Pulp Fiction." His songs are dark comedies, he says; he wonders why people don't see that.

"The difference is the level of respect accorded not to the artists but to the audience," Light says. The audience for movies is presumed to know better, to distinguish fact from fiction. The hip-hop audience, presumably, cannot.

Maybe that's the key to understanding the feelings "Straight Outta Compton" aroused, the success it enjoyed and the effects it continues to have. Maybe it disguises its fictional base too well. It's too real. When N.W.A shouted at you, you were compelled to shout back. N.W.A was together in its most potent lineup for less than two years.

Cube, financially frustrated, left before the end of 1989 for a highly successful solo career. He has since become a screenwriter, actor and movie producer, a virtual corporation unto himself. The other four members put out two more N.W.A records, but to considerably less effect.

Dre split acrimoniously from Ruthless in 1992 to help form Death Row Records, where he recorded the second most influential hip-hop album ever, "The Chronic," which defined the sound of rap for a decade. He has discovered and produced two of the biggest individual stars in hip-hop history--Snoop Dogg and Eminem.

Ren and Yella have had more limited solo careers. Ren is still recording, while Yella has a pornographic movie production business. Eazy continued to run Ruthless and to record until his death from AIDS in 1995. There continues to be talk of a reunion, with Snoop taking Eazy's spot.

Whatever comes of that, N.W.A had more of an effect in less time than probably any figures in pop music history. It's as if Sinatra had become Sinatra by cutting a single record, as if Dylan quit before going electric. N.W.A incited a revolution that redefined hip-hop just as hip-hop was poised to overrun popular culture. As pop has increasingly become the culture that matters, hip-hop has reached deep into mainstream America.

It really was the beginning of the end of life as we knew it. The beginning of the end, it turned out, was accompanied not by heavenly choirs but a rhythm section.

This is not an idle point. Rhythm is a drug. Maybe, like medicine, it should never be consumed in combination with other dangerous substances.

Maybe that's what happened with "Straight Outta Compton." Maybe by combining deadly rhythm with taboo subjects--violence and sex and drugs--it gathered unprecedented strength. Maybe it was unstoppable; just too powerful, too forceful.

Maybe, in other words, it was just too damn good.