My mentioning of AZ’s Doe or Die (1995) a few weeks ago when presenting a handful of hip hop-related conversation-enders sparked a recent reawakening of my appreciation for the album, despite its front-loaded nature and hit-or-miss production.  Today I thought I’d tackle one of Pete Rock’s two productions on the record, the Nas-assisted “Gimme Yours,” whose remix was also released as a second single (and produced by the Soul Brother).  I haven’t dissected a beat in quite some time and could always use more entries in the Pete Rock Appreciation Society – shout to Dan Love.

Lyrically, “Gimme Yours” hardly deviates from the street-Mafioso content that defines Doe or Die, or as our narrator succinctly puts it, “rolling trees, stacking Gs.” Nas makes his first of two appearances on the record (the second being the DR Period-helmed “Mo Money, Mo Murder, Mo Homicide”), though he eschews dropping a verse here for merely singing the hook with a blunted, half-conscious inflection.  Pete, following the release of his second full-length with CL Smooth and who was likely working on the Deda and InI records at the time, contributed a track that was typical of his production style then, namely lush, almost saccharine soul samples floating atop rugged drum loops, with little of the chopping and arranging of micro-snippets that would dominate his work toward at the end of the decade.

For “Gimme Yours” Pete resurrects an old Minnie Riperton single, 1980’s “Here We Go,” released just after her death and featuring a posthumously-recorded vocal from Peabo Bryson.  Pete focuses on the four bars of melodic content from 0:21 to 0:33 on the original, where Minnie’s first verse begins and the drums drop out to reveal a harp and synthesizer.  Wisely (given the general public’s familiarity with Riperton’s unique voice), the producer extracts the music between her vocals, most notably a descending arpeggio from the harp at the conclusion of the fourth bar in the original.  Perhaps realizing its sonic prominence, Pete then inserts the arpeggio in the first bar of the loop, and its diminished harmonic color contrasts nicely with the warmth of the Abmaj7 chord.  The E natural and G flat from the arpeggio appear again in the second bar to add some flavor to the harmonically-ambiguous Bb chord, a dreamlike effect that’s heightened by the fluttering Cm7 chord that concludes the loop.  The buzz of the synthesizer is faintly detectable in the mix, though its role seems to enhance rather than complement the harp.  I’m not familiar enough with the logistics of the harp to know for sure whether or not this passage is actually playable, but to these ears it’s some aural candy that’s hard to resist, and the track’s three-minute runtime is all-too-brief because of it.

“Here We Go” – Minnie Riperton feat. Peabo Bryson 4:04 (Love Lives Forever, Capitol 1980)

“Gimme Yours” – AZ feat. Nas 3:08 (Doe or Die, EMI 1995)

Pete Rock “Best Believe (feat. Redman & LD)” NY’s Finest Nature Sounds 2008

I’m a devout follower of All Things Soul Brother as much as the next member of the Pete Rock Appreciation Society (just ask Dan Love), but half a dozen listens into the producer’s latest NY’s Finest (2008) and I still can’t lift the weight of disappointment off my shoulders. The issue lies not with his masterful manipulation of sounds and beats, which is always a wonder to behold, but rather with the C-list lineup of lyricists that, with a few meager exceptions, I really couldn’t give a rat’s about. Add to that a number of questionable detours into styles that clearly aren’t Pete’s foray as well as an overall lack of cohesiveness that the Soul Survivor installments were able to overcome, and what’s left is a haphazard mess of a record with little worth salvaging. Two of the tracks I genuinely never want to hear again: the ill-advised reggae tripe of “Ready Fe War,” and the sole guest production, Green Lantern’s “Don’t Be Mad,” which bears the distinction of having the most stupefyingly moronic hook I’ve heard in years. Even an appearance from Newark’s golden-agers Lords of the Underground can’t keep “The Best Secret” from deflating and falling flat. Tellingly, the record’s two (arguably) strongest selections dropped over a year ago on the “914″/”The PJ’s” 12″, the latter of which features stellar verses from Raekwon and Masta Killa. The rest, it seems, is just padding.

Still, this is Pete Rock we’re talking about, so the production rarely falters, each track radiating with the same warm, soulful bounce that’s characterized his work for nearly twenty years. It’s a detectable feel that’s difficult to place a finger on but is undeniably there, like the slick, velvety groove that makes up for the retarded garbling of Jim Jones and Max B on “We Roll” or the midnight paranoia that overshadows the dulling gun talk from Royal Flush on “Questions.” The always-entertaining Redman and weed carrier LD drop in to contribute to one of the few highlights on “Best Believe,” a mid-tempo cut laced with some juicy scratching and plenty of pimp swagger. Pete’s mic skills, which are more dominant on NY’s Finest than on past solo jaunts, remain tolerable and occasionally cringing, adhering to the usual “respect the game/longevity” content we’ve grown to expect from him. And while a somewhat clumsy 16 from Pete is certainly preferable to, say, a verse from Papoose, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss the days when Puba regularly ghostwrote for the guy. My prediction is that I’ll likely shelve this disc by next week until the double-LP vinyl of NY’s Finest instrumentals is (hopefully) released, at which point I can enjoy the record free of all the verbal clutter.

“Best Believe” – Pete Rock feat. Redman & LD 4:38 (NY’s Finest, Nature Sounds 2008)

Floodwatch: The inclusion of a Pete Rock-produced cut on some of the more prominent hip hop releases in the ‘90s was often the highlight of the record, and usually tended to trigger a response something along the lines of, “Why couldn’t the entire album be like this?” Following the split with partner CL Smooth in the middle of the decade, Rock made some questionable moves in regard to where to focus his talent – strikingly mediocre solo artists (Deda), passive MCs with no presence whatsoever (InI), and talentless thugs (YG’z) – then would contribute only a track or two to more reputable artists’ records. It’s clearly not my place to judge the man’s artistic intentions back then, but with this sort of pattern, frustration was inevitable among many listeners and fans. So in the same spirit of that rumored full-length Primo/Nas collaboration that heads still dream about, From Da Bricks‘ Dan Love and I will indulge ourselves in a spell of wishful thinking in this installment of the P.R.A.S. (Pete Rock Appreciation Society), presenting ten MCs whose careers could have been drastically changed by an album manned entirely by the Chocolate Boy Wonder, with the year of preference for the release date.

Dan Love: My problem in approaching this particular task is that I’m so manically obsessed with all things Soul Brother that picking just five dream match-ups is almost impossible. Like Premier, Pete Rock has the uncanny ability to make even the weakest of MCs sound good, but I’m attempting to reign myself in here and select those that I genuinely feel could have carried the weight of a full-length collaboration at some stage in their career. The process hasn’t been easy, and the sense of rousing excitement as collaborations started to take shape in my mind was rapidly cut short by the sinking realization that these ideas will forever dwell in the realms of fantasy. Man, I wonder why I put myself through these things sometimes…

AZ Year: 1995

FW: As the only MC to guest on Illmatic (1994), Brooklyn’s AZ had a considerable amount of weight on his shoulders to deliver a solid first album. Doe or Die (1995) certainly didn’t disappoint (it has aged remarkably well over the years), but it was hardly surprising that Rock produced arguably the two best tracks on the record: the gorgeous, laid-back “Gimme Yours” and AZ’s statement of intent “Rather Unique.” With respect to L.E.S., Buckwild, and DR Period, who all contributed fine productions to the album, AZ’s distinctly high-pitched flow and Mafioso fantasies were given an extra breath of life by the colors in Rock’s stumbling drums and keys. Had Rock taken him under his wing and helmed the entirety of Doe or Die – well, the possibilities would certainly be worth pondering for years.

“Rather Unique” – AZ 4:49 (Doe or Die, EMI 1995)

Das EFX Year: 1993

DL: Although there is never going to be any doubting the lyrical impact that Drayz & Skoob had on the hip hop scene at the beginning of the ‘90s, I think it’s questionable to state that they ever managed to put together a truly classic album (see Flood’s assessment of the topic in our previous Pete Rock collaboration post). With Dead Serious (1992), the onus was clearly on the Brooklyn duo’s lyrical prowess, and as such the beats were perhaps somewhat of an afterthought, basic yet effective platforms to display a new and exciting way of approaching the mic.

However, my suggestion for a little Pete Rock intervention doesn’t come at this stage, but rather a year or so later in replacement of their Straight Up Sewaside (1993) LP. Given that their lyrical originality had now been subsumed by a plethora of other artists who had ‘borrowed’ from their style, the crew needed some production of true quality to set themselves apart, and yet the beats to be found on their sophomore effort fall distinctly into the realms of mediocrity for me. The “Jussumen” remix proves how fantastic the pair sound over a denser and more organic sound, and had it been the blueprint for the always-difficult follow-up album, who knows what the results could have been. Don’t forget to take into account that Pete was firing on all cylinders in ‘92/’93, churning out remixes that still stand up as some of the greatest ever committed to wax, and the combination of his work during this period with the playful lyrical gymnastics of Drayz and Skoob could have been awe-inspiring.

“Jussumen (Pete Rock Remix)” – Das EFX 4:45 (Mic Checka 12″, EastWest 1992)

Freddie Foxxx Year: 1998

DL: Plagued by label strife with his sophomore release Crazy Like A Foxxx, Freddie Foxxx missed out on the opportunity for a full-length mid-90s drop, forcing him to maintain his rep through guest verses on other’s work. This is a real shame, as this particular period of time in the genre’s development would have offered up the perfect backdrops for his ferocious and unforgiving style of rhyme. Glimpses of what this collaboration could have promised can be found on the Industry Shakedown (2000) LP under the Bumpy Knuckles guise, where Rock contributed no less than three beats, each of which easily held its own amongst an all-star production line-up that included Premier, Diamond and Alchemist. “Bumpy Knuckles Baby” is my preferred cut of the three, with tightly tuned snares and jangling keys providing a well-judged combination of grit and melody that suits Foxxx to a tea. For Freddie’s sake I would have liked to have placed this a little earlier in the decade, but in terms of a collaboration with Pete Rock, 1998 would seem to be the perfect moment for these two giants to work together, with The Chocolate Boy Wonder already incorporating a harder-edged angle to his smoother, soul-entrenched aesthetic of the early ‘90s (think “Tru Master” or “Tha Game” from the Soul Survivor [1998] LP). The vision here is of a street album full of Foxxx’s inimitable swagger counterbalanced by Pete Rock’s more soulful production tendencies: sounds good doesn’t it?

“Bumpy Knuckles Baby” – Freddie Foxxx 4:03 (Industry Shakedown, KJAC 2000)

Inspectah Deck Year: 1998

FW: Here’s how it should have played out ten years ago: coming off the success of Wu-Tang Forever (1997) – on which he contributed the finest verses of his career, reigning supreme on every track he blessed – the Rebel INS grows impatient with RZA’s new keyboard-based approach to beatmaking and Bobby Digital (1998) distractions. Dissatisfied with the scattershot RZA tracks and the fruits of the Wu-satellite producers that would comprise Uncontrolled Substance (1999), Deck offers Pete Rock the opportunity to produce the record in the same template as “Trouble Man,” his lone contribution to the album. While Wu diehards are sent into an uproar over the absence of the Wu abbot, the resulting full-length is nonetheless a smashing success, as Deck’s signature metaphors and endless alliteration are a perfect match for Rock’s rhythmic soundscapes. On “Trouble Man,” note how the Soul Brother offers a fresh perspective on Isaac Hayes’ “Joy” riff, slicing it up into syncopated microfragments, then layering the chalky piano from Curtis Mayfield’s “Give Me Your Love” atop for the chorus, which also appropriates Sade’s “Paradise.”

“Trouble Man” – Inspectah Deck 5:05 (Uncontrolled Substance, Loud 1999)

Jeru the Damaja Year: 1997

DL: Whatever situation caused the rift between Primo and one of Brooklyn’s finest ever MCs, there’s no doubt that Jeru’s career suffered without the weight of a top level producer behind him. Although Heroz4Hire (1999) was a decent enough record with some standouts, imagine how much better it could have been with a master behind the boards. Envisage the scene: with Premier cutting ties with Jeru, in steps The Chocolate Boy Wonder to pick up the pieces and fill the void to swiftly push out a third album to follow Wrath of the Math (1996). Not only could it have been one of the greatest three album runs by any single artist in the genre, I’m confident that the results would have been truly slammin’ in their own right.

Having never worked together on an album, the only evidence we have for this particular scenario’s success is the remix of “You Can’t Stop The Prophet” that Rock blessed Jeru with earlier in his career. Despite the difficultly of removing yourself from Primo’s original mix, there’s no denying the coherence of Rock’s production and Jeru’s vocals, and a whole album where the two worked in close conjunction would have been truly captivating.

“You Can’t Stop The Prophet (Pete Rock Remix)” – Jeru the Damaja 5:03 (You Can’t Stop the Prophet 12″, Payday 1995)

K-Solo Year: 1994

FW: Despite a gimmickry penchant for spelling out his rhymes, K-Solo was one of the early ‘90s’ most underrated MCs and a bit of an anomaly in EPMD’s Hit Squad. His rapid-fire cadence and seemingly infinite arsenal of battle rhymes contrasted sharply with the rugged blunt haze of Redman and the faddish wordplay of Das EFX. When the crew dispersed in early ’93 following the split between Erick and Parrish, K-Solo headed out West to affiliate himself with Dre’s Death Row Records, working behind the scenes and nurturing artists like Canibus. My change to the course of history? Solo would have remained in New York and hooked up with Pete Rock (who provided the MC with the beat for his last single “Letterman”) and turned out a universally-acclaimed classic third record, making K-Solo a household name. The harder-edged productions on The Main Ingredient (1994) (“Worldwide,” “I Get Physical”) and Rock’s remix work at the time would have been an ideal foil for Solo’s devastating verbal attacks.

“Letterman” – K-Solo 3:20 (Time’s Up, Atlantic 1992)

O.C. Year: 2000

DL: With one classic album under his belt and a sophomore effort that neatly averted the dreaded slump, Omar Credle seemed like he might just be one of the most consistent players in the mid to late ‘90s rap game. Unfortunately, the spark was gone by 2001’s Bon Appetit, and despite a highly credible production roster the album is one best forgotten.

Instead, let’s get Pete on the boards. In the run-up to 2000 Mount Vernon’s finest would have been putting together beats for the yet to drop instrumental tour de force Petestrumentals (2001), a release that categorically proved that he still had skills in abundance come the turn of the millennium. Paired up with O.C.’s consistent lyrical finesse, the results could have been jaw-dropping. The fantastic ‘Respect Mine’ from Soul Survivor gives us a flavour of how the combination may have sounded, with Rock forging an infectious, hypnotic beat that is perfectly balanced by O.C.’s tone and cadence. The thought of this one gives me goosebumps…

“Respect Mine” – Pete Rock ft. O.C. 4:06 (Soul Survivor, Loud 1998)

Rakim Year: 1994

FW: His skills on a microphone are indisputable. He has contributed more quotable lyrics and verses to the hip hop vernacular than arguably any other MC. His singles, billed with partner Eric B., are timeless. Yet what many overlook is the fact that the god Rakim never dropped a solid, front-to-back full-length banger in an era (’88 – ’92) when it seemed like a classic was hitting the streets every month. Taking a note from the jazzier, Soul-inflected productions on Don’t Sweat the Technique (1992), Rakim could have connected with Rock to oversee the musical fodder for his next project after splitting with Eric B. Think of the possibilities: Ra’s breathy, dry baritone would sound heavenly over one of Rock’s sleigh bell- and horn-laced concoctions, with tempos rarely dipping below the 110 bpm range – except for the two “for the ladies” tracks, of course, in the vein of “Lots of Lovin’” or “Mahogany.” The two wouldn’t cross paths until Rakim’s ‘comeback’ record of sorts, the generally well-received The 18th Letter (1997), of which Rock contributed two outstanding cuts among legends like Premier and Clark Kent. Ah, one can only dream.

“When I’m Flowin’” – Rakim 5:04 (The 18th Letter, Universal 1997)

Sadat X Year: 1996

FW: Sadat X’s spotty solo career has been troubled by a myriad of issues, chief among them the fact that, Diamond and Buckwild excluded, the Bronx MC has rarely come across a producer who is capable of complementing his irregularly-pitched flow and unique delivery. Naturally, Pete Rock is a third exception, and for proof look no further than “Escape from New York” on Sadat’s first solo venture Wild Cowboys (1996). The elegant piano and vibraphone loop is contrasted by a slamming drum pattern, with Sadat (and guest Deda) sounding more than thrilled to wreck shop over it. Imagine an entire album like this, with the MC and various guests – Puba would have to appear on a track or three to trade lines – committing this kind of gold to analog tape, with Rock spitting an occasional sixteen here and there and making an appearance on every chorus. The record would have a refreshingly laid-back, Sunday-afternoon-in-the-cipher-type vibe that would have been a diamond in the rough among the Bad Boy-bullshit that was polluting the airwaves in ’96.

“Escape from New York” – Sadat X feat. Deda 4:09 (Wild Cowboys, Loud 1996)

Sticky Fingaz Year: 1997

DL: Of all five selections that I offer to you here, this is my wildcard. Although the thought of an entire album with the Onyx frontman and our boy Pete Rock is perhaps stretching the concept a little too far, there’s definitely something in this collaboration that could have worked well. The pair have crossed paths on a very limited number of occasions, but in the two instances that I know of there is a surprising coherence between the gruff delivery of everybody’s favourite kleptomaniac and Rock’s signature production style. This white label remix of “Shout” clearly demonstrates this, with Rock’s more laid back overhaul of the original keeping the overtly hardcore nature of Sticky and company in check. “Strange Fruit,” taken from the Soul Survivor LP, also provides a flash of what could have been and indicates the variation that could have been offered up by an album together, the beat’s darker, more sinister vibe working well with Sticky’s snarling sixteen bars. Granted, a full album together would have needed some interesting guest spots to avoid a sense of plodding monotony, but it’s interesting to ponder what could have been had Rock slipped out of his funk jacket for a minute and gotten seriously grimy.

“Shout (Pete Rock Remix)” – Onyx 3:47 (White Label, 199?)

“Strange Fruit” – Pete Rock ft. Tragedy Khadafi, Cappadonna & Sticky Fingaz 4:42 (Soul Survivor, Loud 1998)