#38: Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth — Mecca and the Soul Brother (1992)
New York, NY — Elektra Records
What we got for this week, my darlings, is a hip-hop album that’s widely considered one of the best ever put out: Mecca and the Soul Brother, by rapper C.L. Smooth (on the right, with the baseball cap) and producer (and occasional rapper) Pete Rock (on the left, with the beret). Hailing from, guess where, New York, the duo did not have the most stable, long-lived and harmonious of careers, but with Mecca they left an absolutely indellible mark upon the hallowed grounds of Golden Era hip-hop. Now, this is a record I remember giving quite a few spins back in the day when I was first getting into non-Brazilian rap, but it’s been many a years after the last time I did, so I did go in sort of half-blind.
Pete Rock still is one of my all-time favorite producers, and a major influence on my own stuff, so incredible beats are par for the course on this joint. It’s not the same as his late 90s-early 2000s stuff, which I’m more used to, but his distinctive style and preferences are all there already — deep, almost dub-like basslines, spacious but steady drums, liberal usage of processing techniques such as filters, reverbs and, most of all, the classic delay effect he often throws on top of chopped-up soul/r’n’b horn samples, a very distinctive thing of his. As such, the production carries a sense of consistency all throughout, sort of like a psychy, slightly stanky fingerprint that Pete’s digits are able to inscribe upon every surface that they touch — sort of like Solid Scheme Music’s production on Das EFX’s Dead Serious, where you could just tell that all beats were made by the exact same people.
Differently than our previous review, though, Pete Rock’s beats are anything but formulaic or samey. They’re just identifiable enough, but apart from that they all have their special pizzazz, their little thing going on, and for the most part they’re allowed to do it freely and unimpeded. Pete likes to work different little sections and breakdowns and “solos” in there, not to mention the ubiquitous intro sections that consist of mostly unmodified jazz samples and serve the purpose of throwing in an extra little helping of spice in there. All in all, the beats are incredible, as attested by the generous flattery present in my preliminary notes:
Does C.L.’s rapping reach the heights of the bar set by Pete, though? It is my utmost pleasure to inform you that yes, it absolutely does. As noted in the introduction, his career after the partnership was over was discrete at best, but in his debut effort he displays no modesty when it comes to flexing his rapping muscles — and still it all sounds so effortless, so natural! Technique-wise he’s at top form, weaving intricate schemes and patterns in his rhymes, but the focus here is at the more, say, poetic side; not just his wordplay is graceful, but the overarching themes and ideas are remarkably deep and well-articulated for the most part, leaving you with an impression that lingers on long after the average four and a half minutes of runtime are over.
Thematic variety is at an all-time high here — most of the songs are still that tested-and-true flexy, braggy, shit-talky battle shit, like Act Like You Know, Wig Out, It’s Like That and many others, but throughout Mecca’s one hour and seventeen minutes runtime one can also find love songs (Lots of Lovin’), conscious, reflexive — but not preachy! — joints (Ghettos of the Mind, Anger in the Nation), storytelly sagas (They Reminisce Over You) and ranting lessons on, say, peculiar themes, such as the importance of clearing your samples (Straighten It Out) and wearing condoms (Skins), as well as the familiar Nation of Islam-flavored pontification on Allah, spirituality and all. And it doesn’t really sound forced at all, like some other rappers that seem to shoehorn random themes and ideas in order to sound more, I don’t know, complex? In here, everything comes naturally and non-awkwardly.
C.L. is less of a “specialized” rapper and more of a jack of all trades, so to speak. That’s not saying he does not excel at any niche, quite the contrary: he performs excellently and consistently, be it in brainy, introspective, heartfelt tracks, braggadocious shit-talking seshes, or just plain flexy displays of linguistic architecture for its own sake. Something that is notorious all throughout, though, is how light-hearted his bars feel: even in somber, more serious songs, there is a certain whimsy in his performance that keeps it afloat at all times, this airy, poetic delicateness to his talk that is just, I don’t know, warm, comforting? It’s hard to explain, but suffice to say that Smooth just has this sort of positive energy about him, and it definitely shines through the music.
Finally, I’m gonna do something I don’t always do and set aside some space to comment on one specific song out of Mecca and the Soul Brother. That song, of course, is They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y.), the lead single for the record and by far CL’s and Pete’s all-time most famous and most played song. Made as a homage to their friend Trouble T-Roy, who had died in an accident two years before at the age of twenty-two, it is where Smooth goes into this meandering narrative spanning the time period from his birth to the present, reminiscing about his life trajectory and reflecting upon his and his fellows’ journeys, mistakes and achievements. At some point it becomes clear that he is talking to Troy, like he’s saying “hey lil bro, just wanted to let you know how everyone’s been since ya left, we miss you a lot and hope you’re doing fine wherever you are”. Technique is suddenly less of a focus here, because the thing is now about being emotionally vulnerable and sincere, and about telling a beautiful, moving story:
I reminisce so you never forget this
The days of way-back, so many bear witness the fitness
Take the first letter out of each word in this joint
Listen close as I prove my point
T to the R the O-Y, how did you and I meet?
In front of Big Lou’s, fighting in the street
But only you saw what took many time to see
I dedicate this to you for believing in me
Rain or shine, yes, in any weather
My grandmom Pam holds the family together
My uncle Doc’s the greatest, better yet the latest
If we’re talking about a car, uncle Sterling got the latest
I strive to be live ’cause I got no choice
And run my own business like my aunt Joyce
So Pete Rock hit me, ‘nough respect due
When they reminisce over you, listen
And what about the beat? Holy shit on a stick, if this isn’t one of the most beautiful rap instrumentals I’ve ever heard in my life I don’t know what is. The main thing about it is the soulfully cut, aetherically processed horn chop sampled from a Tom Scott song, which is then delicately layered over a deep bassline and a steady drumbreak. It’s hard to describe just how good it is, and you, dear reader, would do better to just go and give it a spin, so I’ll leave it at that. Suffice to say there is good reason this was picked by Rolling Stone as the twelfth best rap song of all times — not that I’d advise anyone to listen to RS when it comes to rap, but even broken clocks, I guess. Rightfully described as “…a vivid celebration of family (literal and metaphorical) that’s as much free-roaming backyard-barbecue toast as somber funeral speech”, it really is one of the most touching and sincere, while still light and dreamy, hip-hop songs I’ve ever heard, and I could never ever recommend it enough.
So, on that note, I guess I’ll be leaving this review as is. Again, there is excellent reason this absolute all-timer was held in such high regard, and it was a great pleasure revisiting it after this many years. From beats to flows, from rhymes to punchlines, this really is maybe one of the most elevated products of the specific early-90s-east-coast sound, and even if Smooth and Rock fell off some years afterward and never really made a comeback as a duo, this gem will always shine bright in the crown of hip-hop history.
Favorite tracks
For Pete’s Sake: one of Mecca’s most notorious shit-talking tracks, this might be this album’s biggest instance of claiming to be a G and simultaneously proving it by killing it on the rhyme game. Not much content-wise, but the lyrical prowess here is a thing to behold, and the minimal, somber, but also funky, old-schooly beat complements the freestyles in an impeccable manner. Pete himself dropping some bars is a welcome surprise, and one can quickly verify that he knows his way around a verse almost as well as he does around a sampler. “For Pete’s sake I break and update, wait, I radiate/ A dubplate to navigate the tune I make/ I fit like a slipper, so catch the Big Dipper/ Vital signs are quicker, not the flat line picture […] I’m not the type to fake it, I wouldn’t try to take it/ Tie your girl to the back of my Jeep butt-naked/ Slide her monkey ass down the hill/ So if you don’t want beef, money, chill for Pete’s sake”.
Lots of Lovin’: Love songs in rap can be pretty hit or miss for me, but this one is definitely a hit, even considering the somewhat simpler rhyming and decidedly cornier, very lovey-dovey-teenagey bars; the beat is just one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard, and the atmosphere is just simply impeccable, untouchable and undefiable. “A sweet serenade, sip lemonade/ As we laid inside the shade/ My heart was captured when you possessed it/ Caressed and blessed it, even suggested”
They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y.): Couldn’t leave this one out, now could I? Enough has been said about it so I won’t go on and on, but suffice to repeat that this is one of the most incredible, tender, sincere and flawlessly executed, in all fronts, tracks that I have ever heard. “I reminisce, I reminisce/ I reminisce, I reminisce/ I reminisce for a spell, or shall I say think back/ Twenty-two years ago to keep it on track”.
