Had a chance to watch a couple documentaries lately while baseball was on its all-star break, both chronicling the golden era of hip hop (note to millenials — we are currently NOT in it, despite your breathless claims for folks like Migos, Future, the A$APs, etc) — one focused on a single entity from that time, the legendary Wu-tang Clan, the other on an overlooked (at least for those of us not living in/around New York) playhouse for some of that scene’s biggest names, the Stretch and Bobbito show. To paraphrase the departed Dirt Dog, though, first things first we shall fuck with the worst and talk through Showtime’s documentary on the Wu.
Cleverly named Of Mics and Men, it’s a four hour look at the gang of New Yorkers and the music they’ve made over the years, from their legendary debut to more recent offerings like the single copy disc sold for oodles of cash to pharma-felon Martin Shkreli. Despite getting a lot of insight into each of the members and their personal lives (family makeups, early experiences in NY projects in the 80s, etc) and the dynamics of the group (who seems to get along, who butts heads (or butts in), etc), what’s notably (and inexcusably, in my opinion) absent from this series is the one thing that makes knowing those things matter — THE MUSIC. If the basic test all music docs face is whether it will make an uninitiated viewer want to listen to that band’s/person’s music by the end, this one fails miserably. (Assessment tested/confirmed with wifey, who while aware of the Wu is not a fan and said she did not become one by the end of this “boring” endeavor.)
So instead of getting a ton of reflection on (or insight into) the group’s classic debut, for example — how the songs came together, how the recording went, etc — or how that quickly spawned the first batch of equally lethal solo albums, we get a ton of background on RZA’s philosophical perspectives, how they tried to market the group/albums, what contracts the guys signed (and when), how the logo was designed, etc etc etc. We got nearly 45 minutes on the aforementioned Shkreli scandal — tabloid frothing over an album that virtually nobody has heard and appears to not actually be an official Wu-tang album after all the fuss — while only briefly touching on the debut or their double album return (we get a little discussion of “Protect Ya Neck,” “C.R.E.A.M.,” and “Reunited,” but not much else), while completely ignoring the classic run of solo albums (outside of spending two minutes on the cover art for ODB’s, that is) that millions of people love. It’s a shame, because those albums form a big piece of that golden age catalog (and STILL are great, as you can see for yourself shortly).
Contrast that four hour slog with the hour and forty minute party that is Stretch and Bobbito: Radio that Changed Lives (available on Netflix) — it passes that aforementioned music doc test with flying colors. Not only do I think it would make the uninitiated viewer want to listen to hip hop (wifey was sequestered in another town eating single breakfast tacos and online shopping for clothes and body clamps, so couldn’t confirm), it makes the existing fan rediscover why they loved that band/person/style so much in the first place. It tells the tale of the titular lads — two DJs who had the graveyard shift on a small college radio station in New York and somehow turned it into THE launchpad for some of the era’s biggest names — Biggie, Nas, Jay-Z, Busta, the Wu, etc. The pair would not only play songs that hadn’t broken anywhere else yet, they would host freestyle sessions that apparently became appointment listening for folks at the time.
The stories of people recording the shows on cassettes and passing/mailing them around were pretty great (note to millenials — cassettes were things old people used to use to record music off the radio so they could listen to it again (side note to millenials — the radio was a thing that people used to have in their house that was one of the only ways to listen to music when not in your car)), but the clips they show of the aforementioned individuals spitting verses off the tops of their head are what really makes this a fun watch. It really takes you back to that time, reminding you of just how much incredible music was being made and how much excitement there was about it, while also giving you additional appreciation for the craft (the skill and precision these guys show in their verses and albums come in stark relief to the disposable bullshit passed off as contemporary versions of that music today). It’s a great watch — aside from the killer music, Stretch and Bobbito are pretty funny cats, too — so fire it up and pump up the volume.
And when you’re done, feel free to give this a listen, my antidote to the disappointment of the first offering — Sunshine’s curated playlist of Wu-tang songs. I’ve done my best to pick the choicest selections from the numerous band albums and side projects — the only exceptions being the band’s debut and the first five solo albums (Meth’s Tical, Rae’s Cuban Linx, Ghost’s Ironman, Dirty’s Return to the 36 Chambers, and GZA’s Liquid Swords), which are included in their entirety as they are virtually flawless. It amounts to around 15 hours’ worth of music, which should more than give you a sense of why this group has made so many fans over the years. Yes, the quality suffered with each successive album — only GZA and Ghost fought off the trend and released second albums that were almost as good as the first (both of which are almost entirely included below) — but when you consider HOW good those debuts were, and add in a string of songs spread across five or six group albums (depending on how you count) and multiple solo albums from the ten members, you’re left with an impressive body of work. I picked my favorites below, so give a listen and see what you think. If you approve, just be sure to give a “SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUE!” so we can hear you.
We’ll close with a couple quickies — first the latest single from Bon Iver’s upcoming album, i,i, “Faith.” He continues his 50-50 trend so far as this marks the fourth release from the album, but only the second that I really enjoy (along with “Hey Ma,” which we previously posted) — maybe the others will make more sense in the context of the broader album. In the meantime, enjoy the latest one here and see what you think:
Lastly comes an interview with Frightened Rabbit drummer Grant Hutchison from Stereogum on the eve of the band’s release of the Midnight Organ Fight cover album. It’s a pretty rough read — the author clearly is a fan who acknowledges how hard it has been (and still is) to listen to the band’s music since frontman Scott’s suicide last year, a sentiment I share and have written about here — and Grant speaks to his own difficulties dealing with his brother’s death. The positive news (other than his ability to start moving on, which I hope others in the band share) is that the band had recorded a bunch of songs before Scott passed, so we will likely have one more batch of his singular, heartfelt lyrics to enjoy. Until then, enjoy this one — one of the many gems from that masterful Midnight:
Until next time… –BS