#7: Boogie Down Productions — Criminal Minded (1987)
New York, NY — B-Boy Records
As we move on to the year of our lord of nineteen eighty-seven, and thus to what is in my opinion the beginning of the proper Golden Era epoch of hip-hop, the first record we’re checking is Criminal Minded, by Boogie Down Productions, a group composed of world-famous KRS-One in the position of MC, D-Nice as a beatboxer (a function that seems to have been pretty common in hip-hop at that time but isn’t really around a lot nowadays), and late DJ Scott La Rock, who would be murdered mere months after this album was released. Now, this one I have jammed once or twice a long, long time ago, and I don’t remember much of it, but I can sort of recall being especially interested in the general production and flow of the thing as a whole, but I don’t really remember to be honest. So, let’s get into it and see how it holds up.
Before I even press play I just gotta talk a little about that cover art, cause it goes fucking HARD. Scott La Rock and KRS-One, in almost Black Panther-esque attire, sit before an assorted variety of guns and armaments on top of a table, with calm, cold looks on their faces; the album title is printed in bold, thick, aggressive letters that almost jump out at you. It tells a message loud and clear: these guys are not fucking around, so you better sit down and pay attention.
As has been the case since 1985’s Radio, the first track in this one, Poetry, has the purpose of being this bombastic opener, where they make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into, which is made clear right there on the first bars: “well, now you’re forced to listen to the teacher and the lesson/ class is in session, so you can stop guessing/ if this is a tape or a written down memo/ see, I am a professional, this is not a demo”. Sample on this beat is very obviously from a James Brown joint, with the unmistakable funky guitar chops and yeahs. KRS’s flow, while still firmly inside that somewhat stiff 80’s scheme, has this additional grooviness that we haven’t seen before — I don’t know, it’s mostly some subtle syncopation and whimsical intonation here and there, nothing too in your face but it makes a difference in the long run.
Lyrically, this is also somewhat a step beyond the stuff we’ve seen so far, especially in the more technical sense — multisyllabic rhymes, which were somewhat rare before, now abound, and an impressive variety of rhyme schemes and flows are showcased on this one. Content-wise it’s still that old tried and true braggadocious gloating, but the writing itself is much more elaborate; rather than riffing on simple wordplay schemes and punchlines for a couple of bars before moving on, KRS departs from a particular image or joke to instigate further lyrical development, in such a way that the entirety of a verse is much more solidly connected in a linear fashion.
The second track, South Bronx, tones the verboseness down a little. While still composed mostly of one long verse, the lyrical side is considerably less extravagant, and the vocal performance goes back to being mostly driven by the beat, which does get a little more luscious in this one. An interesting thing about this track is that it’s one of the most famous diss tracks of classic hip-hop, and a central piece to the infamous Bridge Wars between South Bronx and Queensbridge crews — mostly BDP versus Juice Crew as far as I know. 9mm Goes Bang, track number three, has some clear Dancehall influences, most perceptible in the deep bass synth and the “wa-da-da-dang, ayy/ listen to my nine millimeter go bang” chorus, as well as some goofy faux-patois and mentions to sensimilla thrown in here and there. It is a story track, and in it KRS-One narrates this surprisingly violent and graphical tale about being a badman gangbanger and capping his opp with his, you guessed it, 9mm. It’s not outstanding by any means, but all in all it is solid where it needs to be — the narrativeness and the obvious, if stereotypical and a bit cringy, jamaican theming.
Next up we have Word From Our Sponsor, yet another braggadocio track, but again with a level of poetic nuance that we haven’t seen so far: “Cool like the air we breathe/ Inhale, exhale, perpetrators will fail/ As sure as my name is Blastmaster KRS/ Sit and listen to the very essence of this tale/ From the days of prison I have uprisen/ To my family members I’m marked down as missing”. Again, nothing too incredible, most of all when you compare this frankly old joint to more modern poetry virtuosos such as, say, Brother Ali or Aesop Rock, but still a significant development for such a relatively early stage of hip-hop. Elementary then begins with an interesting collage-y section of sorts and a busier, lusher beat; the lyricism and flow here are twitchy, fast and short, with somewhat of a staccato quality to them. KRS riffs on his whole teacher persona especially insistently here, which was already introduced in Poetry and South Bronx: instead of seeing himself as a “king” of hip-hop like Run-DMC did, for instance, he rather assumes the persona of a maintainer and teacher of hip-hop wisdom and history, a member of a lineage of minds and artists from before his time, such as Kool Herc and Afrika Bambaataa — not like it makes him less gloaty and egotrippy, though.
Dope Beat, track six, samples ACDC’s famous Back in Black riff (which makes the beat less dope in my opinion tbpathwyg) and exhibits somewhat less sophisticated rhyming, while still firmly in that ole’ bragging thang. Not a lot I can think to say about this one, really, so let’s just move on to the next one, Remix for P is Free, which is infinitely more interesting right from the go: it ostensibly samples the main guitar riff from Yellowman’s top dancehall hit Zungguzungguguzungguzeng (try saying that three times real fast), and then there’s also the very in-your-face interpolation of ragga vocal styles all throughout this song. The jamaican theming is not all this one has in common with 9mm Goes Bang, though: it also consists mostly of a linear first-person narrative with the central theme of drugs and criminality, although with some casual misogyny added in — the main story is about how annoying these crackhead hos that want to trade sex for drugs are, and how KRS really needs to hold himself back from dropkicking them into the curb sometimes. Charming. Still, this is one of the most musically interesting and intense tracks so far, and the beat sounds almost deconstructed and glitchy at times, complete with some cool bits of vocal processing here and there.
Next up is The Bridge Is Over, which comes back to the Bridge Wars theme, but even more aggressively so — while in 9mm KRS had his main argument in the fact that he’s the rightful heir of a noble street tradition materialized in hip-hop music, Bridge sees him straight up talking aggro shit on his biggest foes. Rhyming and flowing isn’t exactly bad but it’s also not great by any means, being held up mostly by name-dropping and cheap jokes, and apart from the at this point familiar faux jamaican toasting and reggae-ish interpolation, it also features some frankly crass and uncreative dissing, such as straight up calling Marley Marl gay or saying that Roxanne Shanté is only good for straight fucking. Oh and the beat fucking sucks HARD lmao holy shit what a trainwreck of a song. Next!
Track oh-nine, is called Super Hoe, which does not bode well for our expectations of seeing a less erkworthy song. It does, however, turn our expectations upside down by, instead of calling women hos, calling his own DJ, Scott la Rock, a SUPER hoe! Now this is something I can’t say I was expecting lol KRS spends the entire five minutes of this track praising homeboy Scott’s sexual prowess and attractiveness, which is honestly funny, if a bit unsettling at times, though of course he sometimes uses it as an excuse for some more casual misogyny and puerile jokes: “If you claim to have a little problem/ Well, Scott La Rock knows just how to solve ‘em/ If you’re a guy, a nine’ll do the trick/ But if you’re a girl, you need some — flowers”. “Flowers” is a tongue-in-cheek stand-in for “dick”, in case you can’t tell. It’s honestly fun and goofy to hear a rapper rapping about how his bud has a big dick and can get any broad he wants, and if nothing else we gotta give KRS props for going through the whole thing completely unfazed at the constant underlying homoerotic tension of it all. Again, very goofy track, but a lot of fun too.
Moving on to the title track, Criminal Minded, we are greeted by a frankly jarring, Hey Jude-interpolating acapella intro: “Boogie Down Productions will always get paid/ We’ll take the wackest song and make it better/ Remember to let us into your skin, ’cause then you’ll begin/ To master rhymin’, rhymin’, rhymin’”. As expected, the theme is once again of a braggadocious nature, but with somewhat more lyrically interesting verses, picking back up on Poetry and Word From Our Sponsor. KRS-One’s persona is somewhat more joyous and whimsical on this one, letting us know that most of the shit he talks is but a jest and he doesn’t really mean most of the stuff he says. What a rapscallion! Beat is fairly interesting too, with some creative, off-kilter samples and breakdowns. Finally, we move on to Advance, a megamix by DJ Scott la Rock, consisting of a big montage of sounds from the album and beyond; nothing incredibly interesting, but a cool, laid-back, less rap-centric closer for this album, and also obviously a moment for our boy Scott to shine, much like in The Message’s The Adventures of Grandmaster Flash on the Wheels of Steel.
Even if still a ways to go until we reach the later, more mature KRS-One I’m more familiar with, it’s all in all an OK album, even if somewhat samey here and there. Even considering all the shit I’ve occasionally said about our boy KRS, one thing that I didn’t mention but definitely cannot be understated is just how sharp and articulate he is: even when talking the absurdest shit he does it with full confidence and agility, never letting it become awkward or (excessively) cringy.
