Author: Kevin

Mixtape maker. Playlist dealer. Cruciverbalist. A real piece of work.

The Best record of 1989: Day 9

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best record of 1989: Day 9

NWA’s Straight Outta Compton vs. Inner City’s Paradise

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at N.W.A.’s Straight Outta Compton (#8) and Inner City’s Paradise (#121)

Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d be occasionally writing some of these up.

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each match up and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos.

Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.

KA—

Portland has an NBA team but no NFL or NHL teams. Most people pick one based on proximity; thus, lots of Seahawks and 49ers fans. In 1989, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think everyone was an LA Kings or Raiders fan. Those hats with their distinctive script and Starter jackets were everywhere. And it was all down to NWA. We were nowhere near South Central, but you coulda fooled me. That fashion—and this record— were inescapable.

So why was a record about the gritty life in LA so popular in suburban Portland? Good question. The easy answer is that the sound was novel, and it sounded hella good coming out of our car speakers. Looking at the record through a clinical lens, the sound was new, the flow was different from what we knew, and the beats were 10/10.

There were larger cultural forces at play, of course. There is a point where kids rebel against whatever structures are in place: school, social systems, whatever. This was also the era of white paranoia, the explosion of the prison industrial complex, and Willie Horton. Tipper Gore was peaking. Parents were freaking out, and we were here for it. A few years earlier, we’d had the satanic panic; now it was hip hop’s turn in the barrel.

On a local level, law enforcement shifted from a community policing model (the one where cops would hand out Trailblazer trading cards) to a much more militarized version. Regular uniforms were out in favor of military ones. In my part of the world, they overindexed on firepower, too. It was not unusual for them to now show up at the basketball courts with assault rifles. Again, this was suburban Portland. It was absurd, and we (rightfully) bristled against it. To have an anthem like “Fuck Tha Police” was catnip, and we all ate it up. At one point, I saw a map of Compton in someone’s locker. Like a literal paper map. I wish I were kidding.

Back to the record itself for a second:

When writing up Dr. Dre’s The Chronic I mentioned that

listening to his record through a 2024 lens isn’t easy. There’s a reason every track has an “explicit” label. The N-word is used liberally. The F-word is used like a comma. It’s snarling. It’s misogynistic. It’s…all the things, and I wouldn’t dare try to excuse, rationalize, or explain away any of it. It is what it is. Listen at your own risk…and maybe not at work.

That said, this was a record that literally everyone I knew had a copy of; the wannabe gangsters at my school, the jocks, the heads, and everyone in between. And we were listening to it on repeat. It’s been over 30 years since I’ve played this front to back, and I can remember almost every word— and I’m at that point where I spend a lot of my days looking for my glasses only to realize I’m wearing them.

Same goes in 2025 and for this record.

Straight Outta Compton is a look into a world that many of us will never see, and many others wish they could escape. Where earlier records had reflected the realities of this, like gang violence and misogyny, Straight Outta Compton glorified them.

And then there is the uncomfortable truth that this was a bot of socioeconomic voyeurism. A bit of ghetto tourism, if you will. America is very good at squirreling away its more unpleasant realities and keeping up appearances. This record ripped the lid off the reality of life in a place like Compton and put it all on display. There is, of course, some poetic license and a bit of aggrandizement in play. Was Ice Cube really gonna cook people up like gumbo? I doubt it, but the wordplay was on point).

It was all edgy and dangerous…and we could all visit that world without ever having to leave our very safe reality.

Perversely, the howls of protest from adults about the record proved the point NWA was trying to make. White America focused on how the message was delivered (profane, vulgar) and not the meaning behind the lyrics and the statements they were making. It was all a deflection of attention—a jingling of keys distracting us from the real issue. For our part, we were distracted by beats and the thrill of hearing taboo subjects being rapped about.

The members of the group eventually went their separate ways to varying degrees of success, but the marks they left were indelible. This was a statement record, a proclamation that they were here, and an indictment against any sucka who tried to say otherwise.

There’s a popular meme going around that reads “still punk AF as I…(insert something very not punk here). My contribution to the canon was that I was still punk AF as I turned down the car stereo so I could see better.

Sometimes, I wonder if there’s a hip-hop version. Was Ice Cube still gangster AF when he acted in “Are We There Yet?”? Yeah, probably.

Much like The Chronic, Straight Outta Compton upended an entire genre, carved another one out in gangster rap, and put Compton on the map.

Looking at this bracket, there are a few records that left me wondering, “How did this make the cut?!” A few others have left me wondering: How did I miss this? To be fair, The preliminary list of submissions for this bracket clocks in at just over 700 entries. Something slipping through the cracks was bound to happen.

Inner City’s Paradise is squarely in the latter category. For all of the punk and hardcore I was listening to, I was also spending a good bit of time listening to dance, techno, and house.

Before this, Kevin Saunderson’s main claim to fame was being part of the Belleville Three and being one of the originators of Detroit techno, referred to as such (as opposed to Detroit House) to distinguish it from Chicago house. I’m telling you, midwest rivalries run deep.

At any rate, Saunderson and vocalist Paris Grey teamed up, and the result is Paradise. Not to get too far into the weeds here, but Detroit techno differs from the Second City in a few ways; it’s a little more stripped down, with the instrumentation more rapid-fire and the beats more strident.

Similarly, a lot of tech records are best suited for after sunset. The association with the club is too much to overcome. Dusting off of a 12″ midday on a Sunday isn’t always the first thought that comes to mind. Paradise was one you could play. Grey’s vocals lend a brighter feel to it all (not as in disposition, as in “feels okay to play at 11 AM). There are faces on the album cover instead of a plain white or black sleeve.

Furthermore, this was a stylistic departure from the Detroit techno scene. The instrumentals are warmer. The concept of futurism is never far away in this genre, but here, that sterile vision of tomorrow comes up against things like string arrangements and warm synths. Even the drum machines take an occasional breather.

Again- another difference is that the genre is still built mainly on the 12″ single or SoundCloud download. Inner City made an entire record of techno tracks, and one I’ve found myself listening to repeatedly over the last few days.

With the benefit of hindsight, I can hear Inner City’s influence on many groups that came after them. This feels like a record that should be in the crate of any self-respecting DJ, and now, it needs to be in mine as well.

Bottom Line: That both of these records are/were influential isn’t up for debate. The ripple effects of Paradise can be felt far and wide, and no one should doubt the role Straight Outta Compton played in hip-hop culture and the larger cultural discussion. That said, I have to think name recognition will carry NWA here (I mean, it is #8 vs #121). If Inner City pulls it off, that’ll be one for the record books. And hey, my bracket’s trash anyway, so why not?

For me, the word “best” is doing a lot of work in this tourney. As I consider(ed) which way to go in a given match, I thought about the objective quality of the record (obvs), but also the aftershocks it set off, the wider ramifications in the industry, etc.

Taking all of that into consideration, it’s got to be NWA.

Vote & bracket pick: NWA’s Straight Outta Compton

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

Leave a comment

The Best Record of 1989: Day 8

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 8

Weird Al’s UHF takes on 11 by The Smithereens

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at Weird Al Yankovic’s UHF – Original Motion Picture Soundtrack and Other Stuff (#48) as he takes on 11 by The Smithereens (#81)

Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d be occasionally writing some of these up.

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks are always appreciated.

KA—

I want to preface this by adding a few points for context. First, writing humor is hard. Like, really hard. If you think it’s not, just try it and show your work to a couple of friends. See what happens. Anyone who can do it once is worth noting—anyone who can do it for four decades plus is nothing short of amazing.

Weird Al‘s parody songs have delighted generations of fans, and it won’t be me that says anything bad about that.

UHF (the movie) was itself a parody- a parody of all the bad TV we used to be subjected to, where the channels were still changed by hand via a clunky dial. Before there were 57 channels and nothing on. It’s a fun enough premise and the sort of film you might’ve watched on a Saturday afternoon when it was pouring with rain. Yankovic plays a schlub who gets a job running a TV station his uncle won in a card game. Michael Richards plays one of the main characters. Hijinks ensue!

My second point? I have a very low capacity for humor in music. I’ve never gotten the appeal of a novelty band like Ween, and don’t get me started on that fistful of late 90s/early 00’s groups whose whole mission was to make “Zany” a new sub-genre. That goes double for all the ska groups that tried. Christ, some of that was interminable.

There’s none of that pretense here. The value prop with Weird Al is that he’s gonna take a song you love, and tweak the lyrics just enough to make you laugh. Maybe there’ll be enough of us smirking to make it a hit. There’ll be a metric ton of puns, some wordplay, and a liberal dose of accordion—all part of the schtick, and all good things.

The UHF soundtrack is no exception. There’s a take on Dire Straits’ “Money for Nothing” that’s solid. Ditto the spoof of Fine Young Cannibals’ “She Drives Me Crazy.”

Among a few of my friends, Spatula City was an inside joke for so long that it had morphed into something unrecognizable —one of those things that would be impossible to reverse engineer.

And hey, Yankovic’s songs are cool…the first time you hear them. But for me, they’re like a Carolina Reaper or Dave’s Insanity Sauce; you really only need to try them once every few years.

Speaking of movies, the title of The Smithereens’ 3rd record was actually a nod to Spinal Tap (as in “This one goes up to 11”). I am not entirely sure that’s true, but I’ve heard it enough over the years to think it might be. Besides, I want to believe it, so…

Even if you don’t recognize the record, you’ll likely recognize “A Girl Like You,” which cracked the Top 40. That was supposedly written for the movie Say Anything, but didn’t make the cut. Just imagine Lloyd Dobler blasting that out of his boombox instead of Peter Gabriel’s ‘In Your Eyes.’

Woulda, coulda, shoulda.

That song would be their biggest hit, and it would be easy to assume that every track went as hard as it did. But the band owes much more to pop bands than rock bands. There are family-sized riffs and plenty of power chords, but those are balanced with plaintive lyrics and plenty of catchy choruses purpose-built for singing along. I wrote a whole ass love letter to Ed Stasium about his treatment of The Replacements’ Tim LP, and his touch behind the boards here is just as on point.

You get “A Girl Like You,” but also tracks like “Baby Be Good” (this writer’s fave on the record), and “Maria Elna,” which would be equally at home on a Gin Blossoms record.

Anyway, like Weird Al, the value prop with the Smithereens is simple; you get Mack truck-sized riffs, a groove so in the pocket, you owe it some change, and Pat DiNizio’s vocals. With 11, you get a record that is best enjoyed loud.

Bottom Line: My streak of playing the odds on my brackety and voting with my heart aligning was short-lived. But hear me out here: Somehow, Weird Al made the cut to get into this tourney. Do enough people actually like this record for it to be taken seriously, or was it, well, a parody of sorts? When making my picks, I went with the former. Each had to meet a threshold of votes to be invited to the dance, and I just can’t see there being a viable path to collusion. Maybe there’s an inside joke from previous tourneys that I’ve missed. I dunno. Either way, once again, my bracket pick is for one record, and my vote will be for another.

Head: Weird Al

Heart: The Smithereens

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 7

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 7

Faith No More’s The Real Thing vs. Voivod’s Nothingface

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at Voivod’s Nothingface (#112) and Faith No More’s The Real Thing (#17)

Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d be occasionally writing some of these up.

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each match up and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos.

Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.

KA—

One of the things that can make a record above its weight are the memories one might associate with it. Experiences are enhanced with a soundtrack. For those of us who are analog natives, there is also the bonus of having (likely) discovered a band via a friend or listening to them together.

In my case, Faith No More checks both boxes. I first found this band when a friend pressed the tape into my hand during passing time at school. Listening on the bus on the way home, it was hard to stay still in my seat. It grabbed a hold of me from the start. There are a lot of opening tracks in this challenge. Few go from 0-100 as fast as “From Out of Nowhere” does.

It’s 6:17 in the morning as I write this, and just playing on these janky-ass work speakers is getting my feet moving. People pay good money to feel that sort of high.

This is their 3rd record, but it might as well be their debut. Apologies to fans of We Care A Lot and Introduce Yourself (and Chuck Mosley, for that matter), but for all intents and purposes, this is ground zero for the band. Alternately threatening and cloying, Mike Patton was completely unhinged, a whirling dervish with a several-octave vocal range.

‘Epic’ was a smash hit and the track most people think of when asked about the band. A lot of bands would kill to have something like that on their resume. Here’s the thing, though: for as good as it is, Epic isn’t the best song on the record. It’s not even the 2nd best; I might be 3rd after ‘From Out of Nowhere’ and ‘Falling to Pieces’. ‘Underwater Love’ might give it a run for its money as well.

Epic also became a weight around the band’s neck, sentencing them to one hot wonder purgatory and pigeonholing the band. A lot of people stopped at ‘Epic’ and missed out on a whole lot of great stuff that came afterward.

For its part, ‘Falling to Pieces’ is a little something for pop fans. It’s catchy. It’s bouncy. It gets in your head and makes itself comfy. ‘Underwater Love’ is a bit more funky, but no slower.

There’s even a cover of Black Sabbath’s ‘War Pigs’ here, which, while admittedly a pretty faithful rendition, is, for me, the one song that I could do without. But it’s one mistake in an otherwise solid record.

That’s down more to my tastes than anything else, but why include a cover in the middle of something so original?

If FNM pivoted with The Real Thing, Voivod did almost a 180 with Nothingface. Their previous records were much faster and more reckless. Not quite thrash metal, but close. This is…prog? It’s got all the usual hallmarks: multiple time signatures squished into a song, discordant riffs, etc. There’s even a song about planets here (“Astronomy Domine”), which also happens to be a Pink Floyd cover.

(sigh) okay, I guess.

Look, I try and listen with an objective ear, but this record was a test. If I’m honest, it became unlistenable at about the halfway point. The record doesn’t get worse; I was just at capacity.

Nothingface feels like the band had a brainstorming session, and “Rush, but make it more metal” won out. The end result is a (relatively) slower, much more complex record than earlier ones, but I’m not sure it’s an improvement. Growing up, we often ended nights at a local 24-hour restaurant. There was a regular who would sit in a booth and spend the small hours making his own chain mail. I can’t help but think this record was tailor-made for him.

I know this record is regarded as a significant influence in a small corner of the music world, but man, I’m just not seein’ it. I want to, I really do.

Bottom Line: The streak of voting against my own bracket is over (for now). Sorry Quebecois; my vote is going for the boys from The bay, and it’s not even close.

Vote & bracket pick: The Real Thing

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments

Check out the full brackethere.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 6

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 6

808 State, 90 takes on LL Cool J’s Walking With a Panther

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at #49 808 State, 90 vs. #80 LL Cool J, Walking With a Panther

A bazillion years ago, I was watching an interview (probably on Yo!~ MTYV Raps) with LL Cool J, where he made an off-hand comment about driving a Honda Civic. Yes, really. The gist was that sucka MCs were wasting money on things like gold chains while he was playing the long game. It was a weirdly sensible flex—especially for a guy that had been dropping rhymes like “I’m so bad, I can suck my own d*ck.”

For someone so pragmatic on the street, he was prodigious in the studio; one of the knocks against the record is that it’s long, at 18 tracks and with a run time of 76 minutes, there’s a lot of space to fill. Luckily, our man has some big rhymes and big beats to fill in the blanks.

But it wasn’t just the usual fare. There was plenty of stuff like the aforementioned “Clap Your Hands,” but also what at the time was a clean break from the norm. As Exhibit A for the people, I’d present the Rick Rubin-produced “Going Back to Cali.” LL’s flow is smooth, almost conversational- instead of announcing to us all how bad he is, he’s telling a story on top of a jazz beat. As if that wasn’t wild enough, the whole thing ends with a sax solo. We’re beyond the looking glass here, people.

“I’m That Type of Guy” also has an unorthodox flow and, of course, talks about stealing girls like it’s an Olympic sport. It’s an interesting side trip and a solid track overall. Still, the best part is the outro, which, as I type this, sounds like more of an indictment than it really is.

“Jingling Baby” is another favorite, and is ostensibly about…earrings. Sure. At any rate, it’s a banger. And I was a little surprised that I still knew a good chunk of the lyrics. Funny how those are in my mind’s Keep pile, and not things like where I left my glasses.

(sigh)

A year later, LL would kick the door back down and dare us to call it a comeback. After all, he’d been here for years. And just a year earlier, he’d dropped Walking With a Panther, still one of his best, and one that sounds great, even in a Honda Civic.

One of the paradoxes of electronic music is that you sometimes remember the nights you heard it more than the tracks themselves. And I suppose that’s partly the point- EDM (or house, or techno, or…) has always been more about immersion than anything else. How do you know a song is good? When you can still feel the beat three days later at work. In the pre-Shazam era, many of these tracks were lost to time and a fuzzy memory. Sure, sometimes you could ask the DJ, but not always, and if you didn’t want to stop dancing? Well, that was the price you paid.

But sometimes-sometimes- something was so good you had to get off the ride and find out what was playing. That’s how I found 808 State.

Last year, the band’s 1993 record Gorgeous made my Top 100 records of all time. I described it as:

…the perfect pairing to taking NyQuil. That’s a little unfair—when it came out, it was the perfect pairing with many, much stronger things. It was fun to have these sounds swirling around at the club or in your headphones while the walls shapeshifted around you.

That said, it’s more than that; it’s a beautiful sonic landscape that transcends the era it was made in and many of the records that came out of the same place.

Which, I mean…fair. But I don’t think you need to be on anything to enjoy that record, and you certainly don’t while listening to 90. The music is more than enough. Compared to today, some of the production might seem rudimentary—or at least minimalist. Some of that is due to the technology available at the time and what the band could afford. But the magic they made with what they had was something to behold. Besides pulse-pounding beats and the just-right BPM rate, some jazz elements were sprinkled in, lending the whole thing an experimental feel. This is a group masterful at transporting you back to wherever your favorite dance floor was.

House music is very good at helping you break a sweat, but it’s often very cold (this is what happens when music is made with machines!). Nothing wrong with that, but one of 808 State’s superpowers was making these tracks feel warm. There’s a strangely human element to them that’s lacking in many of the records from the same era. Just when you’re running on empty, they work in a soothing track like “Pacific 202” to give you a chance to catch your breath. They know what they’re doing.

In a dark time like this, the best music can be escapist. Rest is resistance, but so too is checking out and immersing yourself in some beats. 90 is just what the doctor ordered.

Bottom Line: I am once again in the weird spot of picking one record for my bracket while voting for the other. If LL Cool J was the ruthless ladies man that would steal your girl and your wallet, 808 State were the homies that would take you out on the town to forget it all. Ladies Love Cool James, and so do I, but my heart is still on the dancefloor. My bracket pick is Walking With a Panther. My vote is for 90.

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 4

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 4

#33 Elvis Costello, Spike vs. #96 Screaming Trees, Buzz Factory

In this round, my bracket pick reflects what I thought would be the favorite. I picked with my head and not my heart. Tough call to go against the record you prefer, but here we are.

There’s some relief in knowing both are objectively good records, and both serve as inflection points for their respective careers. Having to pick between two good records is a good problem to have!

And if I’m honest—and can predict how the bracket will play out—there are some seriously tough calls on the horizon. Like some Solomon-level shit.

But for today, let’s look at each of these:

###

There are a handful of Seattle bands everyone knows. The Q-ratings of Soundgarden, Nirvana, and Pearl Jam are off the charts. Nothing wrong with that;  we (collectively) like what we like.

But those bands tend to cast a long shadow, and underneath them were a whole ‘nother tier of bands that were just as good, who for whatever reason never hit critical mass the same way. Bands like Mudhoney, Tad, and Skinyard.

Bands like Screaming Trees.

1992’s Sweet Oblivion briefly put them on the map, and the hit single “Nearly Lost You” gave a glimpse of what their breakout might look like. But before that—before the hope/hype of the Seattle Sound (or whatever we were callin’ it) the band was grinding away on SST records, and in 1989 put out what was, IMO, their best record; Buzz factory.

The band’s fourth record shows them in fine form. Mark Lanegan’s voice is as strong as ever. Gary Lee Connor’s unique guitar sound delivers weapons grade levels of fuzz and wah-wah but never overwhelms. The rhythm section delivers a consistent muscular beat. Any questions are answered with the slinking groove that kicks off “Where the Twain Shall Meet.” This is a band much more similar to Led Zepplin than to their punk labelmates.

There are a couple of missteps here (take a bow Yard Trip #7), but those are the rare exceptions to the rule. Besides Where the Twain Shall Meet, standouts include “Subtle Poison” and closer “End of the Universe.” In between is some of the most solid, heavy-sounding grunge/psych rock to ever come out of Washington State.

In 1989, Elvis Costello was determined. New label, no Attractions, and after 2 years a new record to follow up two (relatively) well regarded releases.

I don’t know if “statement record” fits here, but I can’t help but think Costello went into the studio looking to prove something. With the benefit of hindsight, a demarcation line between the early era of Armed Forces and This Year’s Model and subsequent releases appears. I have to assume that if pressed, most people would recognize “Pump It Up.” As late as ’82 you might still be able to make the case with “Everyday I write the Book” off of Punch the Clock. But that’s an exception in a run of records that is largely a dry spell chart-wise. Even Costello didn’t much care for Goodbye Cruel World.

So! Back to Spike: There were no Attractions, Costello instead tapping a roster of, well, all kinds of musicians. T-Bone Burnett was there, as was Chrissie Hynde. Benmont Tench and Mitchell Froom, too. It’s a long list. And with that sort of variety comes a greater than zero chance that the result will be well done but inconsistent….or just a jumbled mess.

Having an anchor like Costello helps keep everything from spinning out of orbit. The horns on “Deep Dark Truthful Mirror” are a nice early touch. “Chewing Gum” is a strutting funk number. And of course, there was “Veronica,” a genuine hit, peaking at 19 on the Billboard Top 40, and topping the modern rock chart.

In the end, the variety is a positive. For better or worse, urgent tracks like “(What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace Love and understanding” and the aforementioned “Pump It Up” are what first come to mind when I think of Elvis Costello. But there are several years between those release and Spike. People change and sounds evolve. Listening to this again after several years (and maybe for the first time front to back?) the biggest upside for me are the little surprises. The horns here, the samba beat there.

Mixing it up keeps things moving right along

Bottom line: Head-to-head, Buzz Factory more closely aligns with my tastes. Had I voted my heart, that would’ve been my pick. But having Spike penciled in on my bracket is nothing to regret.  

Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

The Best Record of 1989: Day 3

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 3

Throwing Muses Hunkpapa vs. The D.O.C.’s No One Can Do It Better

Today sees #32 Throwing Muses ‘Hunkpapa’ album facing off against #97 The D.O.C.’s No One Can Do It Better.

I sent in a Designated Cheerleader piece for Hunkpapa, so that should tell you where my vote’s going. Last fall, Sam Colt and I took on the ambitious/absurd mission of ranking our top 100 records of all time. I slotted this one in at #48, and wrapped it up by noting:

“This band was like nothing I’d ever heard before. In a lot of ways, they still are. Writing this, I’ve struggled to pin down an easy genre tag or a way to describe the sound. Some of it feels like the sun’s surface (literally, in the case of “Dizzy”), and some of it reminds me of fall. I don’t know how best to describe this record besides saying, “Just go play it!” What I do know is that in the 30+ years (yikes!) since that show, this record has never drifted too far from my playlists.“

All that aside, IMO, this is a much tougher call than it would seem on paper. Both are incredible records–albeit for very different reasons. And both have had a lasting influence–albeit on much different groups of artists.

I blew out my knee right at the start of COVID (0/10 do not recommend), and The D.O.C. kept me company for a lot of my rehab. It’s a record of its time, but still sounds fresh.

There is some chatter that Hunkpapa is overranked, while the D.O.C. is underranked. I can see the case for each. What do you think? Who ya got?

Check out today’s write-up (and Designated Cheerleader article (not mine) here.

Check out the full bracket here.

3×2: Volume 5 | Underrated 90s Hip Hop Records

by KevinLeave a Comment on 3×2: Volume 5 | Underrated 90s Hip Hop Records

May 2025: Sam & I bring a some boom bap and Jeep beats to the table.

Good morning!

Today Sam Colt and I are each sharing a few of our favorite hip hop records from the 90s

Welcome to the fifth installment of our (not so) new series! For those of you who may have missed previous editions, here’s a bit of context:

In this monthly series, Sam Colt and I will each share our picks for artists and/or titles that haven’t received their due. You’ll recognize Sam’s name from our On Repeat and Friends Best of Series, and also our Top 100 of all-time series last fall. These posts will adopt the latter’s format; I will make my case for my three picks and my reaction to Sam’s. Sam’s page will do the reverse.

In the inaugural post, we noted that successive editions would narrow things down slightly. Maybe a specific genre…maybe a specific era…maybe a specific…well, who knows!

Break out your Timbs and turn up the Alpine; This month, we’re each making a case for a few underrated hip hop records from the 90s.

When you’re done here, remember to check out Sam’s take at This Is a Newsletter!

Let’s get to it!

KA—

Souls of Mischief- ‘93 ‘Til Infinity

California’s share of the Best Coast is just under 900 miles, but NorCal and SoCal might as well be two different universes. In many ways, they are—and certainly were in the 90s. While NWA talked about bumpin’ in the city of Compton and Snoop’s smooth drawl introduced us all to the LBC, there was a whole world of hip hop artists up the road in the Bay Area. E-40 was there. Too Short, too. And then there were The Hieroglyphics; a collective made of cats like Del Tha Funky Homosapien, Casual, and Souls of Mischief.

Back then, we didn’t have any money. People did odd jobs, this and that. So I didn’t have a whole bunch of money to buy records, but I did whenever I could. I found that particular record, it’s a Billy Cobham album called Crosswinds. At that point it wasn’t one of the hot records for people to sample. It didn’t cost hella money, it was in the dollar bin. I just grabbed it, and when I got home, I listened to the sample. I used to listen to my samples on 45, because I didn’t have much sampling time in my sampler. [It was] some cheap shit. [The record is] a little gritty, but listening to it on 45, I was like, “Aw, this’d be dope, I’m gonna make it uptempo.”

Souls of Mischief’s A-Plus talking about ‘93 ‘Til Infinity

The latter were perhaps the best of the lot…or at least made the best record of the bunch. The title track is an all-timer—and with good cause—but the album is here on your screen because it’s solid all the way through. Like The Pharcyde below, Souls of Mischief spent a lot of time digging through the crates looking for melodies, jazz, and other touches that gave the record a languid and infectious sound.

Lyrically, the crew was using words in ways others hadn’t thought of yet. And while they were still talking about the same things as other rappers (girls, guns, weed), they were doing it with a vibe that could only have come from the Bay Area.

You chillin’?

Sam’s pick and my take: Big L- Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous

Sometimes, timing is everything. 1995 was a banner year for hip hop. Mobb Deep dropped an all-timer. Seemingly half of the Wu-Tang Clan released solo records, and even The Pharcyde followed up Bizarre Ride II with Labcabincalifornia. It was… a lot. Charts and tastes are finite spaces. Something had to give, and one Lamont “Big L” Coleman got lost in the wake. Before the comments light up, I’m sure the true heads knew about this record, but no one I knew was talking about it. And in 1995, I was 3 time zones away from Harlem.

Lifestylez pops off with “Put it On,” a track with a weapons-grade boom bap that quickly establishes that he’s taking no prisoners. We’re off to a strong start. Listening to follow up “M.V.P.” bugged me. Not because it’s bad—it’s not— but because I couldn’t place the sample. Dear reader, I spent way too long trying to figure out that it was “Stay With Me” from De Barge, but one I recognized from The Notorious B.I.G. Yes I know WhoSampled exists. Nevertheless…

A lot of the records on this list transcend the era in which they were made. They sound as relevant now as they were in the last millennium (eek). This one bets the other way. It 100% sounds like something made in the mid-90s. To my ear, that’s high praise. This is the sort of style I gravitate to more than any other. I’ll take all of this you got! This is a great record released in the middle of a tidal wave of great records. I have to think that had the timing been better, it would’ve been huge.

The Pharcyde- Bizarre Ride II the Pharcyde

Hip hop has always had an urgent side. A side that shines a harsh light on the plight of others and pulls the curtains back on parts of society most of us either don’t know or choose to ignore. Public Enemy and NWA are great examples of each, and I’d argue that both are (very) necessary.

But you can only listen to so much before burning out. You need a record with some bounce that is serious but doesn’t take itself too seriously—one that’s dare I say…fun? You need a record like Bizarre Ride II The Pharcyde.

A good record also makes you take a step back and excitedly mutter something like “oh shit” while you try to make sense of what you’re experiencing.

It’s not lost on me that the first words you hear on this record are “oh shit” and from a comedian. Bizarre Ride II is a record that will make you laugh and rearrange your mind in equal measure. The question isn’t if either of those will happen, it’s which one will happen first.

Musically, the album is much more elaborate than many of its contemporaries. There’s plenty of bass, but the crew builds elaborate soundscapes. The ride takes you through jazz, psychedelia, and just about everything else along the way. It’s a record that is much more in the vein of Paul’s Boutique than, say, something from Grandmaster Flash.

Lyrically, the crew knows their way around a little braggadocio (I mean, there’s an entire track of “Yo Mama” disses), but are much more interested in self-deprecating humor. There’s swagger in the verses, but an undercurrent of vulnerability underneath. Chuck D’s not gonna drop a line like “Damn I wish I wasn’t such a wimp“ the way they do on “Passin’ Me By.” Also: is this the first instance of “simp” being used in a track? Young guns take note.

Hip hop expert and friend of On Repeat Records Jeffrey Harvey nailed it, writing:

The Pharcyde are at their most inspired and relatable when addressing affairs of the heart. The album reach’s its zenith with a pair of colorfully imaginative parables of love lost, found, and unreciprocated.

“Passin’ Me By” stands not only as The Pharcyde’s signature song, but one of the signature songs of early ’90s hip-hop. From the first shuffle of the inverted drum loop cribbed from Jimi Hendrix’s “Are You Experienced?,” J-Swift’s meticulously constructed sample collage evokes the dizzying dervish of teenaged infatuation. Spirits soar high and crash hard as the fearless foursome hand their hearts to a quartet of enchanting young ladies, only to have them ignominiously broken.

The record has some skits; long-time readers may recall that I’m not a fan of those. But they are used in moderation here, and aren’t quite the distraction they can be on other records.

The worst part is that you have to wade through them before getting back to the good stuff. “Soul Flower” is an absolute banger, and relistening to the record ahead of this write-up, I found myself reaching for the “back” button a couple of times before remembering that I needed to keep moving.

The MCs are breaking new ground, but aren’t so busy that they don’t give an occasional nod to those who came before them. On “Officer,” a verse tips its hat to none other than Public Enemy’s “Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos,” but make sure that you remember what record you‘re playing by dropping a verse like this on “So I Ramble”:

About my life, is actually shambles
Should have took the bus
A bus without the silence or some old Nikes
I wish we had good bikes
We need to exercise

At one point on “Soul Flower,” they ask, “How long can you freak the funk?” The answer, in this case, is 56 minutes and 39 seconds—the whole damn record.

Sam’s pick and my take: UGK- Ridin’ Dirty

If it’s not already patently obvious, I’m not the target demographic for records like Ridin’ Dirty. Case in point: at first glance, I confused this with Chamillionaire’s track, and thought maybe Sam had included something from the wrong decade. Silly me. It should also go without saying, but playing this at work might not be the best idea. Like many of the records on this list, the lyrics don’t always hold up. Pound for pound, this LP has more profanity than the rest. 

Which is kind of my point. Maybe more so than any other, this one is the most gritty. The most “real,” whatever that means. There’s no lack of bombast and bravado here, and -again, maybe I’m not the best one to plant this flag— but a lot of it sounds like UGK spent some time at the G-Funk finishing school. The fluid beats and rhymes all feel like maybe you’re on your second cup of Lean, or maybe you’ve been out in the Houston humidity too long. Either way, this was an enjoyable ride…not sure if it’s possible to be riding dirty in a Subaru wagon, but here we are.

Life in the dirty south might not be for the weak of heart, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun.

Handsome Boy Modeling School- So…How’s Your Girl?

You might not recognize the name Prince Paul, but having worked on the boards for everyone from Stetsasonic to De la Soul (and as a member of Gravediggaz), you know his work.

Dan “The Automator” Nakamura might be a tougher call. Still, there’s no doubt he’s made his mark, producing all sorts of indie rap records and perhaps most (relatively) famously releasing Dr. Octagonecologyst, a collab with him, Kool Keith, and DJ Q-Bert.

The two producers became friends, and like any close friendship, developed a second language of inside jokes. They also became fans of comedian Chris Elliott, which…is a choice. But from Elliot’s work came a reference; the sort of thing you sling back and forth in your texts. A wink and a nod that makes total sense to you, and absolutely none to everyone else on Earth.

Handsome Boy Modeling School was born from a plot line in an episode of Elliot’s show.

So to recap: you have two producers known for their quirky styles, a project built off the cuff, and named after a plot in a largely forgotten sitcom episode.

There were really only two ways this could have gone:

A: It was going to be a groundbreaking record built by—and for— the true heads

B: It would be too clever by half, become an oddity ouroboros, and collapse under it’s own weight.

25+ years later, I think it’s safe to say that it is absolutely an example of the former. The producers might be idiosyncratic, but they leverage that to their advantage here, creating track after track of incredible work. A record crate diggers would love, but one that was also accessible to everyone else.

And they brought some friends along. Long before “collab” was a verb we all knew, the two invited MCs from all corners to come through. Grand Puba is here. So is DJ Shadow (note: this record may remind many of his Endtroducing record). So too are Beastie Boy Mike D and (checks notes) one half of Cibo Matto— the two appearing on the same track should paint a clear picture of what sort of collage was built here. It only gets better from there. 

So… How’s Your Girl is hip hop for those with discerning tastes, for the people who look at ID’ing samples as a parlor game, and for those who want something unconventional in their crate.

Sam’s pick and my take: De La Soul- De La Soul is Dead

You didn’t even have to play the record to see that the D.A.I.S.Y. Age was over; the wilted flowers and broken pot were right there on the cover. If that wasn’t enough, the title was a dead giveaway: De La Soul is Dead.

The D.A.I.S.Y. Age might have passed, but only the version of De la Soul we all knew was gone. You’d be excused for only knowing “Me, Myself, and I,” but the trio (and Prince Paul!) made quick moves to ensure the band didn’t become a novelty act. The follow-up is a pivot sharp enough to give you whiplash, but plays to the group’s strengths. The middle child in an incredible 3-record run (3 Feet High and Rising, De La Soul is Dead, and 1993’s trippy Buhloone Mindstate) is arguably the best of the three.

Like many records from the era, there are once again too many skits for my tastes, and that makes for a 27-track LP that would be much better as a 15-16 joint. But that’s a small price to pay for getting all-timers like “A Roller Skating Jam Named ‘Saturdays,’” or watching them take on heavier themes in tracks like “My Brother’s a Basehead.” And of course, the sample-rich jams that are Prince Paul’s trademark.

It’s not lost on me that we both picked a Prince Paul-related project as one of our picks. If there is a poster boy for “understated” in the hip-hop game, it’s him. He also has an almost unblemished track record of putting out shelf-stable records that sound as fresh today as they did on Day 1.

If sales are anything to go by, the message flew over a lot of people’s heads, and many copies of this record were left to collect dust on record store shelves. But that’s their loss. De La Soul is Dead showed that not only were they back—they were a force to be reckoned with.

That’s a wrap! What are your thoughts on these records? Do you own any of them? Share your thoughts in the comments! Rants, raves, and spicy takes are all welcome. And if you have any ideas on future themes, please share those as well! Don’t forget to check out Sam’s thoughts over at This Is a Newsletter!

Thanks for being here,

Kevin—

Leave a comment

Discussion: What’re You Listening To?

by KevinLeave a Comment on Discussion: What’re You Listening To?

Good morning!

Need an antidote for the algorithms? Looking for a place to share the music you love with like-minded people? You’re in the right spot.

As always, thank you to those who have recently upgraded your subscriptions. Your direct support fuels this community and makes a positive impact. Shares and reposts all help as well! Thank you!

When you’re ready, joining them is easy. Just click here:

Become a friend of On Repeat Today!

On to the music:

For those of you who are new, we kick off every week by sharing what we’ve been playing.

The playlist below is some of what I’ve had in heavy rotation. This week, we’ve got new sounds from Stereolab, Saint Etienne, and Robert Forster (among others). They’re balanced with a couple of old favorites & deep cuts.

Now it’s your turn.

What caught your ear this week? Any new releases or shows you’re looking forward to?

Whatcha got? Share your thoughts in the comments!

Leave a comment

A New EP You Should Hear: ‘Deep Sea Diver’ by Oceanographer

by KevinLeave a Comment on A New EP You Should Hear: ‘Deep Sea Diver’ by Oceanographer

Val Lowry-Ortega’s latest project speaks of big dreams in small town America

Photo: : Hannah Marie Belisle

Good Morning!

Today we’re listening to Minneapolis-based Oceanographer

Over the last few years, our journey to find new music has taken us to some odd corners of the country. We’ve made stops in places as far afield as Bellingham, Washington; Bloomington, Indiana; Athens, Georgia; and Portland, Maine.

Today, we’re staying in flyover country and hopping over the border into Minnesota.

The upper Midwest is dotted with small towns full of people with big dreams. Growing up in rural Worthington, MN, Val Lowry-Ortega was no exception. Like many from small towns (or suburbs), most of their school years were spent counting the days to get out of town; they left right after graduation. After receiving a scholarship, Lowry-Ortega Initially channeled their energy toward acting, but quickly found their heart wasn’t in it. Playing the guitar to put off doing coursework ultimately became the genesis of their musician origin story. It was a much better fit.

After a stop in central Wisconsin, they moved to the Twin Cities, met up with some friends, and Oceanographer was born.

It’s probably good that it didn’t work out with NYU anyway, because going through my acting program made me realize how off-path I was. I didn’t want to be told what to do by other people. I wanted to write my own work that I had full creative control over. So, I honed in on my songwriting and started playing small gigs with the folk punk community in Stevens Point. I introduced my first iterations of my songs in grimey basements littered with beer cans, but I finally felt like I was heading in the right direction, oddly enough.

~Val Lowry-Ortega

Deep Sea Diver taps heavily into those early years and the constraints of life in a small ton. Lowry-Ortega describes the sounds as “Midwest Dream Folk… a happy mix of Laurel Canyon Folk, 90s Dream Pop, and Midwest Emo.” The presser lists bands like Big Thief as comparisons, and even suggested The Sundays! Those are all apt, but listening I was reminded of KD Lang as well. Not everyone can nail that wistful sense of longing. Lowry-Ortega does.

When they sing His black eye swollen shut with shame/ Still half undressed in the window frame/He said that he had everything/But he gambled it away on “Midwestern Cowoby” you feel it.

The EP is three tracks full of guitars, lap steel, and easy beats, supporting her powerful vocals. It’s a bit folk, a bit country, and even a bit of pop- all with some gothic overtones sprinkled across the top. The lilting melodies belie the sometimes not-so-gorgeous stories of dreams unrealized and lives never fully lived. It’s the story of some people watching the big sky, yearning for something more, and of others destined to keep up appearances and settle for what they think they’re supposed to.

It’s the sound of something you’d hope to find on the AM dial while driving between Worthington and the Twin Cities, leaving the silos in your wake.

For readers in the Twin Cities area, the band has several upcoming shows!

  • June 1st Grand Ole Days (Solo)
    12:30PM-5:00PM
  • June 12th Kingfield porchfest
    6-9PM
  • June 13th at The Mess’s Backyard Blend
    With Skeleton Crew, Not Your Baby, and Modern Wildlife
    6pm doors, 6:30pm show
  • July 2nd songwriter round at Greenway Recording (solo)
    7:30PM Doors/ 8PM Music
  • July 8th New Band Night at The Green Room
    6:30PM Doors, 7PM Music
  • July 16th at Pilllar Forum
    With Finick and Natl Park Service
    Load in at 5, Doors at 6
  • July 26th Hot Dog Party at the Black Hart, St. Paul
    With ?Watches?, Dollchaser, Lure of Lilith, Mystery Meat, and Splendid 12-6PM (Benefit in support of trans youth)

Deep Sea Diver is out now on all platforms.

Listen:

Oceanographer | Deep Sea Diver (EP) 2025

Click the record to listen via Bandcamp

As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts on this record!

You can connect with the band via Bluesky, Instagram, or on their website.

Leave a comment