#11: Big Daddy Kane — Long Live the Kane — 1988
New York, NY — Cold Chillin’ Records
Alright folks, time for a certified ass belter: the debut album from hip-hop titan Big Daddy Kane, in my opinion one of the greatest and most fundamental artists to ever practice the craft. As you can tell I’m a big fan of this guy, so don’t expect this review to be impartial in any capacity. A member of famed clique Juice Crew, Kane grew famous overtime for both his precise, creative writing style, and his fast, extravagant flow and delivery — and also for his trendsetting fashion styling, being responsible for introducing the rap scene to aesthetic icons such as high-top fades, velour suits and many, many, many golden rings and necklaces being worn at the same time.
Entirely producted by hip-hop legend Marley Marl, this debut album of his is considered by many one of the greatest rap records ever made, maybe up there with titans such as Paid in Full in terms of importance and sheer trendsetting — but more on that later. If I were to point out one weak point about this album it would be its thematic monotonousness — most of it consists of bragging and gloating, but it definitely is something to be expected of late 80s rap. It’s not by any means a deal breaker here, and Kane more than makes up for it with a variety of exquisite flows and intricate, mind-bending rhyming. For an example, look no further than the opening lines of Long Live the Kane’s very first, homonymous track: “Party people in the place/ Embrace the bass as I commence to pick up the pace/ And make you motivate, and accelerate/ Cause like Tony the Tiger, I’m grrreat!/ Always seem to come off, hard for you somehow/ I mean, me being wack, oh come come now/ That’s quite ridiculous, so just admit you was/ Thrilled, it’s on your face, and it’s conspicuous”.
Remember that stuff about internals and multisyllabics I was talking about in my Paid in Full review, about how Rakim uses ’em to make his verses all lush and extravagant? Well, this dude doesn’t skimp on them either, as you can clearly see in that snippet from the opening — and they’re just as dense and packed into his bars throughout the rest of the album. I don’t want to compare them too much, but this does remind me of a talk I was having with a bud a few days ago: Rakim, by his own account a fan of musicians such as Thelonious Monk and John Coltrane, is known by many as the jazzist of rap, whose performance is smooth and flowy like a free jazz saxophone solo (an instrument he played in his youth, by the way). Kane, then, would be funk or soul: he’s not as mellifluous, but on the other hand almost every single syllable and phrase is groovy to the max, exploring and expanding each bar’s space more like Bootsy Collins and his bass rather than Miles Davis and his trumpet — as he himself states on track three, Set It Off, he’s the bona fide “rap soloist”.
He does also have a different trick up his sleeve. While Rakim delivers most of his rhymes in a laid-back, mellow way, Kane adopts a rapidly-varying style, with quick changes not just in his cadence but also his intonation and mannerisms, creating occasional dramatic affectations that play into the loose narratives and punchlines he sets up. An easy example is in track three, Set It Off, with the “e-e-e-even if I stutter” line, in which he does not only mention stuttering, he effectively stages a stutter for a dramatic effect — nothing too mindblowing, sure, but it’s a trope he applies with good taste all throughout the record. Another noteworthy thing is how his bars tend to “bleed” into each other: like in the above snippet’s 7th and 8th bars, where he ends one with the beginning of a small sentence that continues in the next one (“just admit you was/ thrilled”). It helps tie up and give cohesion to Kane’s syncopated, sometimes broken-up rapping via a different mean.
The production, too, is nothing to scoff at. As I’ve mentioned before, it’s all done by legendary Marley Marl, known as one of the greatest of all time, and it’s notoriously less drum machine and synth based than most of what we’ve seen so far, relying more on sampled drum breaks and chopped-up stabs, as well as a surprising amount of vocals. It’s all especially evocative of late 70s/early 80s hip-hop, with that loveable funk to it, but now under a much more sophisticated form.
One thing that’s notable about this album is how Big Daddy sounds so much in his lane at all times, even though he is actually delivering a wide variety of styles and cadences all throughout — he’s just so comfortable with it, truly the mark of a decidedly above-average MC. All in all an outstanding record, even accounting for the few and far-between not-so-great moments here and there.
Favourite tracks:
Set It Off — Extravagant, straigh-up rhyming that forces you into a marvelous trance, even if the guitar sample can be a bit annoying sometimes.
On The Bugged Tip feat. Big Scoob — Somewhat middling guest feature, but the momentary shift into a funky 70’s style with a live show vibe works very well and is really fun.
Ain’t No Half-Stepping — Simply outstanding: legendary beat, intricate rhyming and lyricism (one of the only joints in here not dedicated to pure bragaddocio), maybe his best performance in this record. No wonder it’s one of his greatest hits.
Least favourite tracks:
The Day You’re Mine — Drum machine & synth beat suddenly sounds a bit skinny and corny in context, not to mention the decidedly subpar romantic singysongy style.
