It seems that the labels are finally warming to hip hop when it comes to elevating certain classics to the coveted “deluxe edition” class, with Paid in Full (1987), Illmatic (1994), and the recently-released Road to the Riches (1989) seeing double-disc reissues in the past few years. While these are entirely deserving of the treatment, there is a handful of records that are just as worthy of a first-class overhaul: I’m talking bonus DVDs, multiple essays, never-before-seen color photos, and bonus tracks galore. The following are my three contenders.

Public Enemy, Fear of a Black Planet (1990)

I’ll just come right out and state it: give me Black Planet over It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back (1988) any day. While it didn’t quite have the sheer cultural shock and sonic revelation of its predecessor upon its initial release, Fear of a Black Planet is one of the finest examples in hip hop of honing a craft down to perfection. The Bomb Squad’s sole objective here was to make the loudest, noisiest record in history, and they pushed the limits of sampling technology as far as the envelope would allow. Using It Takes a Nation as a starting point, every element of the sound is pushed even further to the extreme, from the impenetrably dense soundscapes to the wildly chaotic drum programming to Chuck D’s scathing, more focused diatribes. And there’s no “Cold Lampin’ with Flavor.” The triple-disc deluxe edition would contain:

• A fully-remastered version of the album, upping the overall levels as well as boosting the bass and bringing fuller clarity to the highs

• Alternate mixes and extended versions, including “Fight the Power,” the “Burn Hollywood Burn” and “Brothers Gonna Work It Out” remixes, dubs and uncensored editions

• As many instrumentals as possible to further demonstrate the full sonic assault of the Bomb Squad, especially “Welcome to the Terrordome” and “911 Is a Joke”

• A third disc containing the entirety of Terminator X’s Terminator X and the Valley of the Jeep Beats (1991), about as strong an argument for an unofficial “sister record” if there ever was one

• An in-depth interview with Hank and Keith Shocklee on their songcraft, studio equipment at the time, and sampling techniques

• A track-by-track analysis from Chuck D on his inspiration for the lyrical content

• Full-color photos and concert stills of the S1Ws, with or without fake Uzis

• No mention anywhere of Flavor of Love

“B Side Wins Again” – Public Enemy 3:45 (Fear of a Black Planet, Def Jam 1990)

Ultramagnetic MCs, Funk Your Head Up (Polygram 1992)

This record sharply divides Ultramagnetic fans to this day, with one camp calling it an A&R-tampered disaster while the other champions it as an unheralded masterpiece. I fall somewhere toward the latter, but what’s most important here is that Funk Your Head Up, out of print for over a decade now, just needs to be reissued, period. A brief bit of history here: the Ultramagnetic crew signed to Mercury on the strength of their phenomenal debut and now-classic Critical Beatdown (1988). Inexplicably (although hardly surprising), the label deemed the original mixes of Funk Your Head Up as “too hardcore” and brought in unknown producers Solid Productions to doctor the record into a more radio-friendly unit shifter. Thus the now-dated R&B touches on “Stop Jockin’ Me” and “I Like Your Style” were somewhat uncomfortably situated next to “rougher” material like “Go 4 Yourz” and “Porno Star.” This complete mess of a record would be rightfully restored of its original intended brilliance by a double-disc edition containing the following:

• Remastered versions of the released “label” mix on Disc 1 and the original “hardcore” masters on Disc 2 for comparison purposes

• Alternate mixes and instrumentals of “Poppa Large” (including the “East Coast Mix” or “video mix”) and “Make It Happen”

• Full-color photos of Kool Keith in a straightjacket and Tim Dog with his monstrous Eric B.-like gold chain

• An essay by Robbie from Unkut.com on the multiple levels of “Pluckin’ Cards,” easily the widest-encompassing diss track in the history of hip hop

• An additional essay from Kool Keith’s psychologist on his frame of mind during the recording of the album, á la Charles Mingus

“Poppa Large (East Coast Mix)” – Ultramagnetic MCs 5:32 (Poppa Large 12”, Mercury 1992)

Wu-Tang Clan, Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) (Loud 1993)

To those either too young to remember or hiding under a rock at the time, it’s difficult to describe the impact this record had on hip hop when it was released in late ‘93. I remember being one of the few that was utterly nonplussed by Dr. Dre’s sunny West Coast G-funk, and it had almost been a year since I had purchased a rap release by the time 36 Chambers dropped. It dramatically revitalized my feelings toward hip hop, and the revelation hit me hard: there was hope! Any self-respecting fan of hip hop will already have this album memorized, so the deluxe two-disc-plus-DVD edition has to be packed with notable goods such as:

• A fully remastered 36 Chambers with notable emphasis in the bass frequencies

• The uncensored or “bloody” version of “Protect Ya Neck” substituting the radio edit on the original track sequence

• The complete, remastered nine-track demo for the record displaying alternate verses and mixes

• Again, as many instrumentals as possible (especially “Bring Da Ruckus,” “Da Mystery of Chessboxin’,” and “C.R.E.A.M.”) and alternate mixes and radio dubs

• The music for the entire record performed by El Michels Affair

• A bonus DVD featuring each video from the album, as well as interviews and live appearances from the period

• An essay from RZA on his manipulation of the Ensoniq ASR-10 keyboard/sampler for the bulk of the production on the record

• For newcomers, the requisite bios and aliases of each Clan member, with never-before-seen photos of Ghostface Killah’s face still blurred and Method Man rocking the professor specs

“Bring Da Ruckus (Demo)” – Wu-Tang Clan 3:29 (Wu-Tang Demos, self-released 1992?)

“C.R.E.A.M. (Instrumental)” – Wu-Tang Clan 3:38 (C.R.E.A.M. 12”, Loud 1994)

In other things Wu-related, I wrote a piece over at EarFuzz yesterday about RZA’s soundtrack for Jim Jarmusch’s Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai (1999).