#24: Paris — The Devil Made Me Do It (1990)
San Francisco, CA — Tommy Boy Entertainment
For today we’re sticking around the west coast region, this time specifically around San Francisco, where Oscar Jackson Jr., or Paris, hails from. Almost entirely self-produced, this debut album opened him a door to success by virtue of both its sheer quality and controversial nature: the videoclip for the title track was banned on MTV and some record stores refused to carry the deluxe version due to its cover art, not to mention the general outrage, mainly positive, that it caused among critics. However, I hear you ask, is this fame really deserved? Did Paris really create such a stir or was the public overreacting? Is this really an astoundingly colossal ass belter of chthonic proportions?
It brings me great pleasure, then, to tell you that yes, it really is that good. Holy shit fellas, did this record pummel me into the ground with a force unheard of! I honestly don’t even know where to begin, so I guess I’ll start by talking about the beats, which I guess are the most “normal” part of this album, even though they are without a doubt pretty good. As stated, Paris produced this whole thing pretty much all by himself, with just a little help from this D.R. fella here and there, along with scratching by DJ Mad Mike (who, in an example of something that used to be the norm in the mid 80s but we haven’t seen in a while now, has an entire track all to himself and his prowess at the wheels of steel), and to be honest that kinda shows, because most beats are very much like each other: busy but not overbearing drums, coupled with steady marching basslines and simple but full samples that create a generally dense, sometimes serious, sometimes ominous, sometimes frantic, sometimes mysterious mood and pacing. To top it off, he often manages to almost seamlessly meld sampled drum breaks, drum machine tones, funky samples and synth lines together, which makes for an interestingly organic experience.
Perfectly coupled with the production, then, is his performance. His voice is of an incredible deep, husky, almost raspy timbre, smooth yet powerful, subtle yet gripping, a perfect compliment to his serious, sometimes aggressive delivery. Flow-wise he is definitely less groovy and sleazy than his average conterpart, instead placing his bet on technical, precise flowing, tighly sewn around the instrumental; even when he goes into a groovy or syncopated section it is still firmly on-beat, which can be somewhat of a double-edged knife at some specific moments — sometimes I did feel a little thirsty for some more pronounced swangin’ — but overall it works, and, most importantly, goes hand in hand with the aggressively militant tone to be found here. Which we’d better get into at once.
Folks, saying this album is powerful is an understatement. The lyrics here aren’t just politically charged, they are positively oozing with rebellion, a call to arms against racial oppression, not just a jab but a veritable uppercup directly to white America’s jaw; as Urb Magazine put it, “more than just a rap album — it’s a revolutionary handbook. Music for those who want mental stimulation with their dope beats”, and “a force of gravity under which perpetrators melt of embarrassment […] his musical genius is rhyme […] Paris is a gun to your head, so listen up”, according to Vox. Like many of his contemporaries, Paris was a member of the Nation of Islam as well as a Black Panther Party admirer, and unabashed about it, dropping many in-context references, as well as sampling parts of speeches by Bobby Seale, Malcolm X and H. Rap Brown. A self-proclaimed socialist, he makes his opinions on black liberation and revolt against a system of discrimination as loud and clear as possible.
And he doesn’t do it in the somewhat shallow, aestheticized way that some other rappers unfortunately do at times. No sir, this man is very well-read and you can tell it: interweaved with visceral rage and acid critique raps are sophisticate developments on revolutionary theory that sound as much as a manifesto as the underground bops that they are. He goes to such lengths as chronologically narrating the Nation of Islam’s foundation history in Brutal and reciting the BPP’s ten point program from their manifesto almost word-for-word in Escape From Babylon, as well as constant jabs at class and race consciousness-lacking black entepreneurs, those of the “mindless music for the masses” industry most of all. It’s all obviously very reminiscent of Public Enemy, but with this certain California swing of sorts that doesn’t feel quite the same as the time’s east coast equivalent. I found it to not be, though, by any means, a joyless listen like some reviews make it seem like: it’s not just musically groovy on its own, but the energy is as heavy as it is energetic, making for a politically-charged and somewhat bleak at times but also very uplifting jam, adequately hyped-up but not obnoxiously so; kinda like Rage Against The Machine meets Kool Keith in a roundabout sort of way. And, to top it off, in case all of this wasn’t enough, his technical writing skill is absolutely on point and he can put together bars and rhyme schemes like no one’s business.
As you can probably tell by now, I absolutely loved this album and quite frankly think we have a very strong contender for this cycle’s #1 spot. I really am trying to come up with a negative point so as to be fair in judgment, but in all honesty all I can think of is that the fact that the beats are all made by him, coupled with his constantly serious delivery, make for a slightly samey experience at times; however, that was not a problem for me at all, and he works little breakdowns and switches in there frequently enough to keep it fresh at all times. One could also say that the constant political tone might get a little overbearing, but, honestly, this is that type of record and it does exactly what it says on the tin, so if you press play and end up getting overwhelmed that’s all on you, bitch. So yeah, from writing to producing, from rapping to politicking, Paris treats us to one hell of a hip-hop album, almost flawless in all senses and a true masterclass on the art form.
Favorite tracks:
Break The Grip Of Shame — Groovy ass beat that combines the classic Amen, Brother drumbreak with funky guitars, synthesized bass and samples from Public Enemy’s Night Of The Living Baseheads and Malcolm X’s historical 1964 Organization of Afro-American Unity speech, with maybe the most technical rhyming to be found in this entire album. Strangely uplifting and anthem-like, but also serious, almost somber at the same time.
The Devil Made Me Do It — Probably my favorite from the lot: incredible beat, incredible writing, incredible rapping, just so good that you can’t help but replay it half a dozen times more after the first spin. It gets so free, a little meandering, even experimental at times, while still firmly keeping to rock-solid structure and production. Straight up scholarly bars got my inner bolshevik thirsting for action: “So black check time and tempo/ Revolution ain’t never been simple/ Followin’ the path of Mao and Fanon just/ Build your brain and we’ll soon make progress […] Then spit on your flag and government/ Cause help the black was a concept never meant”. Quite simply an impeccable song, so stop whatever you’re doing and go listen to it immediately.
Mellow Madness — As the name implies this one is remarkably smooth and jazzy; the beat, no doubt a great deal due to the Sade sample, is delicious like a sip of negroni, and Paris’ exquisite rapping and writing are like a cigarillo that sophisticately compliment and enhance your drink. The main idea is remarkably more uplifting and positive than this album’s average, but the general mood, while comfy and loungy, is also slightly melancholic, almost uncanny at times, giving this joint a dense, exhuberant, highly interesting atmosphere.
The Hate That Hate Made — A short, straight to the point, incredibly potent and very harrowing recounting of the real story of the murder of Yusef Hawkins, an iconic case of racially-motivated murder by a white mob in New York during the 80s. Might be my mind playing tricks on me due to the subject matter at hand, but the beat sounds remarkably Gil Scott-Heron-esque, funky but impactful at the same time. Cannot overstate how powerful this one is, just go and listen to it yourself. “Now who’s to blame, for the hate that hate made?”
Least favorite tracks:
If there’s one album where I am quite simply incapable of picking a lesser song at all, it’s this one. It would be not only unfair but straight up unethical to do so, as even the relatively less remarkable tracks are still, at the very least, awesome. You can consider this a declaration of 10/10, or five stars, or “perfect”, or whatever the arcane rating method of your preference is; I’ll stand by it come hell or high water.
