Before we get started…

Sometimes I sit alone for hours, thinking about things. It might sound lonely but it can be rather interesting to just stop what I’m doing and “be”. Sure, there are times when the thoughts are rather dull and nothing important seems to materialize, although I wouldn’t consider that a waste. Everybody needs to be still once in awhile or I think that they might go mad from never down shifting. With that being said, sometimes I get stuck on ideas or frames of reference that challenge my beliefs or force me to come to some kind of conclusion.

Are these conclusions “perfect” and jurisdictional boundaries for my mind and others? Fuck no. I don’t think anyone has the right to set limits and fences around anyone else. We all know that human slavery is disgusting and should be destroyed…never to return, but all too often, people forget about the other type of slavery and that is mental slavery. I would argue that mental slavery is even worse than a physical body entrapment because a man or woman or whatever in bondage still has the ability to be free in their mind, unlike a defeated mind.

People imposing their will on others has existed since the beginning of time and I don’t think that will change much until everyone finally comes together to deal with the systems of control that have been running shit forever. When I think of “THE UNDERGROUND”, I often ponder how it came to be and what it all meant. I suppose a person could make an argument that the underground music scene started as a big fuck you to the systems of control and their ideas about conformity.

The king makers of radio, broadcasting, and the printed press really were in “charge” of what could be musically made and delivered to the public audiences. A musical artist that “didn’t have the right sound or zip code” or didn’t have “the right skin color” or perhaps didn’t share “the right concepts” was never going to get a record deal in America, be played on MTV, or be allowed to grow with acceptance. The systems of control did everything in their power to push groups who didn’t conform to their principles literally into oblivion. It’s pathetic.

The best way to kill something off is to limit the access or restrict the freedom of being able to just be. If you want something to die, just ignore it and see what happens. I bet you thirty dollars that whatever the thing that is bugging you in your life will wither and die without attention and thought energy. The worst way to kill something off is to give it attention and a reason to exist.

Have you ever noticed how a person, who seems to be in a shitty mood and complaining about everything, always finds more reasons to bitch and moan about things? It’s true because I’ve done it. There are no Saints here. People that walk around with chips on their shoulders always eventually find that fight, they’ve been expecting to show up. Weird right. It’s as if a person looking for faults will be granted a thousand. There have been whole years where I lived like this and at the end of the day, its mostly a total fucking waste of time. If you see something that needs to be changed, just change it. The verbal complaining never fixed a flat tire or moved a mountain. Only through the acts of “doing” does anything really happen.

Control of the music industry runs on some of these same principals. By not allowing a band or artist, rapper or rocker the chance to be seen, heard, or otherwise exist….what they were really doing was exercising thought control on the fans of music. If the look, sound, zip, race, or political ideas of a group/artist didn’t fit the cookie cutter mold that the industry demanded, that was it. No air play, no video play, no nothing. In essence these groups and artists were devalued to a point that they couldn’t be tolerated, exist, or be allowed to make a living. What a fucking terrible thing to do to anyone. Who has that right? Did MTV have the right to ignore Detroit Artists or make it impossible to get exposure on the national level? Fuck no and everyone knows it.

Did the record companies that refused to sign Detroit Artists have the right to determine that the rest of America wasn’t allowed to hear what was going on in Detroit? Fuck no and fuck anyone that defends that. As far as I see it, Michigan was “locked out” of the music industry when it came to certain types of music. I won’t sit here and claim to be a genius or even an expert on the matter, never have, you can check. All I can do is talk about things that I’ve seen with my own eyes or experienced. Is my point of view better than anyone else’s? No. Does my perspective automatically guarantee me end all be all, unchallengeable status? No. I don’t think anyone can truly have that. They can pretend to be an end all be all point of view, but that doesn’t work. It never has.

Looking back with open eyes…

The early nineties for me was a time of self expansion. I was open to new ways of thought, forming personal opinions on the world around me, and looking for things that I found interesting. By all previous experience and the area that I grew up in, I should have been a “classic rock guy” or a “burn out rocker” or perhaps a Metallica/Guns and Roses type of person. Those were the times that I found myself in along with the “constraints” of my cultural expectations….deemed by who? Society. A white kid in the 1980’s was expected to like certain types of music. Just like a black kid was expected to like certain types of music. (Author’s note, I don’t like referring to race by color because a color isn’t an accurate description of anyone. We all came from somewhere else and that is how we should address different races in this country, if we aren’t going to all just be Americans. To assign a color as opposed to the ethnic background of a person actually dehumanizes that person and strips them of their history, which I’m so strongly opposed to, that I would go to war and die to prevent).

Early on though, I ran into some trouble. I was introduced to rap and unlike the “rock stuff” that I did enjoy, the rap (later also billed as Hip Hop) stuff really spoke to me on a whole new level. I liked how it sounded, the beats, the scratching, the rhyming lyrics….it was different, fresh, and cool. After my run in with Ice T and a cheap generic compilation of  rap (The tape to the left is the first rap album I ever owned. I got it on cassette tape from the Genesee Valley Mall for $2.99 on a trip with my father. He said this better not be “no stupid shit” and I promised it wasn’t) Go listen to it. I still know the words to all the songs except Darryl Strawberry’s bullshit track. From that first exposure, I grew a fierce hunger for all things “rap”. I refused to be a “rock guy” and abandoned my jean jacket overnight.

The about turn around was met with open resistance everywhere I went. I wasn’t suppose to like rap because of who everyone thought or expected me to be. “That’s stupid” or “I hate that” or “That isn’t even music” was all I ever heard growing up and I hated it. Catch phrases are dangerous because they automatically limit discussion and thought on anything. Just saying “I hate that” or “I hate this” doesn’t mean shit to me. Why? Because the critic isn’t saying anything critical, thought provoking, or even open to debate. All they know is they “hate it” and that ends everything.

When I didn’t respond and continued to enjoy rap music regardless of what mentally dead critics had to say, it only got worse. Ignorant speech, turned to rather nasty confrontations, with language that I don’t need to use here. I wish the things I had heard were no longer part of this world, so I chose to ignore it, but anyone reading can probably guess what was being dropped. Did I care? Fuck no. I was a free thinker, even if my mind was still small at the time. I knew what I liked and that was rap music and I didn’t care what anyone else thought.

Early rap was interesting because there seemed to be a few things going on there. There was this old school sound (no better way to describe it) that I could best describe as Sugarhill Gang, Grandmaster Flash and Furious Five type of stuff. I thought it was great. “Rappers Delight” and “The Message” by these respective bands were among my first favorite songs. The bombastic awesomeness of these types of sounds made my head go numb and the hairs stand up on my arm. I was like “what the fuck is this”. I was blown away internally. All I knew was that I needed more all the time.

The other thing that I noticed about this time was a second type of “rap” that seemed to be growing. Like I said many times, Six in the morning by Ice T was a game changer in my mind, and it represented (to me) part of that secondary or cousin of the “older sounding” stuff. Ice T wasn’t fucking around, he was talking about things I didn’t really hear in the same way from first wave type of rap. The way I understood that first round of rap, was that it was basically party music or that’s what I would call it, if I had been older and partying. Party music was for rocking the scene, having a good time, and just letting go.

The second coming of rap, was different. It was raw, edgy, explicit, and talking about a whole different set of ideas and feelings. I was hooked instantly and began to become hyper focused on the newer sounding stuff that would later best be described as “early gangster rap”. I loved the styles of dress that the west coast artists were sporting. I wanted khakis and chucks, I wanted a pair of Locs (sun glasses), I wanted to wear baseball caps…and possibly even wear them backwards. I wanted baggy jeans instead of ball hugging, dick crushing, tight fitting bullshit. I wanted fucking vinyl records and turn tables. I still thought graffiti and break dancing was cool….but they took a back burner to this new shit.

Some of those second coming groups that I thought were great was N.W.A. (because I liked the 100 miles and running album, not because they are now recognized as big bang pioneers. I remember watching N.W.A. on television, driving around Compton in the back of a truck and being interviewed by someone. I’m sure it was MTV because they were the only game in town. It was wild.), Geto Boys (because I loved the “My minds playing tricks on me” video not because they are also now pioneers), the solo efforts of Dr. Dre, Ice Cube, and Eazy E after N.W.A. ceased its original form. You could say my eyes and ears were “west”.

But that was soon to be challenged by the sounds of New York City, where rap artist were emerging with a distinctive different sound (at least to me) than California. I zeroed in on Public Enemy after a small “stoner rock store” in Swartz Creek, which was briefly housed in Carriage Plaza, called “Bad Company” or some bullshit like that opened its doors. They had rock tee shirts, a few things I didn’t understand, and some cassette tapes and buttons (you used to show support for your favorite artists with buttons. At one time I had a serious Michael Jackson button thing going on in the mid eighties but that is for another time).

Among the stuff that “Bad Company” had in its small but potent inventory was some Public Enemy gear. They had an absolute brilliant logo with a guy in the cross hairs of a sniper rifle. I thought it was great and was able to secure a mixtape with “911 is joke” and a few other songs. Again, I was excited about this new stuff and wanted more. People at my school in Swartz Creek fucking hated my obsession with rap and the ill treatment continued. Kids can be jerks and that’s part of growing up I guess. Some shit never changes.

At a certain point, I made a Public Enemy binder, with different cassette inserts and things I had drawn. I kept this “Public Enemy” book with me all day in class and would just stare at the pictures and read the inserts. I played on the 7th grade basketball team for the middle school and would carry this shit with me even there. Before games I would play P.E. on my raggity ass headphones, with missing foam, and one broken strut (causing the left portion of the head phones to not sit right on my ear). The other guys on the team, at least everyone but my road dog Higgy, would trash my shit for it. Life was a pain, but I pushed on.

Two things happened around this time that are note worthy. Ice Cube dropped the Predator album, which caused me to go buy a pair of army boots at the Army/Navy surplus store in Flint (When will they shoot) and a chance encounter with my first taste of “Detroit Rap”, coming in the form of the Dog Beats cassette. My eyes left New York, bounced to California, and then boom….to Detroit. I felt like I was being pulled in three different directions. A mega tron vibe blowing from the east and west, and a small tiny beep coming from Detroit.

Detroit City and the cancelled music scene…

So now I got my eye on California, New York, and this group I had never heard of in Detroit. I continued on with my fascination of Cali’s gangster rap, the first forms of truly political based stuff by Public Enemy (where the message was knife edged direct), and this weird fucking tape that my cousins owned in Mt. Morris. What can I say, the cover was definitly different than the shit I had been seeing. It was a fucking shirtless clown hanging upside down in what looked to be an abandoned lot, with some non-descript building in the background. There was a graphic of a jester with marionette letters I.C.P. in the upper left corner, and a bottom rocker that said DOG BEATS. On the side spine of the cassette tape was a silhouette of a person running with a meat cleaver.

The tape included four songs with Ghetto Zone and Wizard of the Hood on Side 1 and Life at Risk and Dog Beats on Side 2. On the inside of the insert it said that there were four members of I.C.P. and they were Violent J, Ghetto Style, 2-Dope, and The Jester. There was a “forthcoming LP Gangsta Codes” and two of the songs on the tape were going to featured on the eventual release. Each song has something pulling me in, with unexpected draws. I thought the Dog Beats drive thru skit was funny as hell. Ghetto Zone had a dynamic Rod Stewart sample mixed in with clips from one of my favorite movies at the time…Colors.

Wizard of the Hood had its own version of OZ which I thought was comical and of course there was that sad, life is tough type slow talking rap jam Life at Risk. I would have to say that it struck me as unique for two reasons. First, it was a departure from either style that I heard on the Coasts. Although there was some minor elements of politics sprinkled in with the quote from Eldridge Clever “If your not part of the solution, then your part of the problem” and a quote from Violent J about the cost of fixing up Detroit for a couple of million dollars, it was like a weird blend of things in my opinion including party rap, gangster rap, and story telling rap.

Second off, it was obviously done by some white guys, which was one of my first real exposures to a “white M.C.” who wasn’t a fucking jack off joke like Vanilla Ice at the time. There was the 3rd base guys (who beat Ice down in the video for Pop Go the Weasel) and House of Pain, but both were mostly one hitter and quitters, and also very mainstream sounding. Dog Beats didn’t sound mainstream, I didn’t know what it sounded like and really didn’t understand how it could exist.

It was a rap tape, but the songs weren’t being played on the radio at night, when I searched for rap jams on my boom box. There was no mention of them on MTV or anywhere else for that matter, other than my cousin’s backyard. I didn’t know it at the time but it was my first touches of the “underground”. Before that, there was no exposure, so in essence, it hadn’t existed up until that point (see how that works). The tree falling in a forest, with no one to see or hear it doesn’t actually exist. And because MTV and the Radio didn’t play this tape I had found, it hadn’t existed either. Talk about a great way to control things, exclude what you don’t like. Effective and disgusting.

Dog Beats was like a secret door into a new world I had just discovered, like Alice falling down the rabbit hole, its really what happened. And the farther I fell, the deeper the hole seemed. As with all things, growing old can be a shitty thing, as some shit doesn’t seem as shiny or nice as it once did. For me, years of hard drinking have made those first few experiences foggy, but Dog Beats eventually led me to the Carnival. The Carnival of Carnage that is. I have many thoughts on this album but we can’t do it all here so I will stick with two take aways.

1. The group was getting better in my opinion and more focused. The path seemed clear as day with the theme, which I totally was into and there was more songs that I could relate to, or just like to play (repeatedly)
2. There were more doors on this albums. The secret kind of doors, going further into the underground, step by step. The doors came in the form of two artists that I had never heard of prior to the C.O.C. and they were Kid Rock and Esham.

I guess it was dumb luck that the founder, creator, and supreme king of the underground was on that C.O.C. album, just waiting for me to come across it. Of all the tapes of the underground, I had found the big bang source of Michigan underground wicked shit within two tries. The first being an accident of course, since there was no way for a kid my age to really hear about the underground. It’s hard without tv and radio, almost impossible, except that I would learn later how it happened as Esham paved the way with his first release “Boomin Words from Hell” a few years earlier. That was all coming down the line.

This is when the worm slowly started to turn for me. I was still grooving on the sounds of the east and west, but the volume on them had been dramatically reduced. Sure, I still watched Yo MTV Raps and BET’s Rap City after school at whoever’s house had functioning cable (sometimes our black box didn’t work right lol) but there was a lingering effect going on with Insane Clown Posse (updated version from Inner City Posse). There wasn’t a lot of material to work with but the early mid to late nineties was about to become a gold mine for Michigan Underground Rap. The releases started coming and never stopped. But still, no national coverage or radio play or anything.

Other groups also got into the mix including Natas and House of Krazees from Detroit. Flint Town offered Project Born, The Dayton Family, and Top Authority. The scene was growing and thriving. I won’t lie and say that I immediately was the world’s biggest fan of all the groups, but I enjoyed certain releases immensely. Some of my favorite albums from that time were the following:

1. Natas 1992 release “Life After Death” which had some tracks that were over the top, ahead of everyone else type shit. My favorite songs were “Get My Head Together” “I Ain’t Got Shit To Lose” and the numero uno “Life After Death” (track one and possibly one of the greatest Natas songs to ever hear the light of day. There is no way to listen to this with out going out of my mind. Every time I listen to this, even in 2021, I still get a numb feelings in my brain when I hear it. If I could only recommend one Natas song, this very well could be the one)
2. Project Born 1993 release “Losin It” which was only a single, but maybe one of the hardest singles ever released in Flint Town (in my opinion). Just like with Insane Clown Posse and the C.O.C. appearance, Esham was here as well. He seemed at times to be everywhere that mattered and that makes sense. He was the OG of the wicked style and by the early nineties had more material and moves than anyone else. The remix of “Losin It” featured originator Esham and to me, both versions are like an audio horror movie. This was the year I started hanging with a guy named Wayne who had “Losin It” on tape (still does). My introduction and history with this rap group was just starting and would continue with chance encounters in 2000 and 2020, leading to friendship and a book.
3. ICP 1994 release “Ringmaster” which was in my opinion, superior to the C.O.C. by more than a little. It was crazy hearing it for first time. Time stopped when “The Dead One” came on. It took me somewhere else, was haunting, and was original. I feel like I’m in an empty black field when I hear song, with some dead demon whispering terrible things into my ears, floating just out of sight, but close. “My Fun House” was another one along those lines. An addictive sounding, fast moving, nightmare funhouse visit narrated by sick crazy clowns. It has a perfect sound that is a once in a lifetime period, that is often longed for, but can never come through the same way again. The Ringmaster could never be recreated, sadly, as much as I wished for it for a few years after this release.
4. Esham 1994 release “Closed Casket” This is probably my favorite Esham album pound for pound. I think it had something to do with my age, my developing music tastes, and my identification with the Detroit Underground, which at this point had almost eclipsed my love of east and west coast rap. Shit, Michigan had its own coasts and the Mitten was jam packed with a vibrant and booming underground scene thanks to Esham and his groundbreaking sound. This entire album is fucking forest fire man. I was going to list my favorite tracks, but it would be stupid because it would be the entire song list. I really need an entire subsection to describe my favorite of the favorites. All though I don’t normally skip any songs there are the best of the best including Brainwashed, Mental Stress, Flatline, Make Me Wanna Holla, and Diggin on the D/L.
5. House of Krazees 1994 release “Season of the Pumpkin” By this time, Halloween for me had long past from being about ringing door bells for candy, I was 14 years old and the holiday had turned into a night of trouble with my friends in the Winchester Village neighborhood in Swartz Creek. We hung out at Winshall Park, messing with younger kids and setting off firecrackers on peoples porches who were handing out candy. This album coincided with that time, and although I don’t like the entire album song by song. There are some tracks that I really dig. Sure it was like a poorly funded horror movie compared to 1994’s blockbusters from ICP or ESHAM or Natas, but it was still entertaining. Top tracks for me included “The Mask” and “Hollows Eve” and the best song on the album “Trick or Treat”.
6. Natas 1995 release “Doubelievengod” was another album that should be required listening for anyone coming on as a new fan of Natas or Esham for that matter. I was 15 when this came out and it was just like Closed Casket in that it was so brilliant. Songs like “pop pop” and “midnight” and “we almost lost Detroit” were show stoppers in my opinion, but it was full of top shelf tracks. I still have my copy.

Sorry we will have to reach the conclusion with part two, check back later.

 

Signing Off,

Mike Shepard

ROX-TV Head Writer (maybe the only one)

kidvicious810 on IG