I’m counting down my 100 favourite songs of all time. To keep this from becoming a Bob Dylan / Tom Waits love-in, only one track per artist is allowed.
Go to 91: Hyperballad by Bjork
Go to 93: Transmission by Joy Division
I'm not 100% certain, but it’s probably the second half of 1998. It’s definitely past midnight and I’m surely in an all-too familiar position: planted on a sofa in front the TV, entranced by MTV’s 120 Minutes. The alternative music show was essentially anti-MTV: low-budget videos by non-chart-bothering artists with hardly any commercial breaks. That’s why it was on so late, but being both a night owl and music lover, it seemed made for me.
Perhaps my memory is too hazy and my recollection of two hours of unadulterated quality isn’t quite accurate. But my rosy nostalgia is fuelled by the certainty that one special night I heard two songs that had a profound impact on my musical life. The second we’ll come to at a later date, the first was Jurassic 5.
In those days, I didn’t have much time for hip-hop. I was an indie rock kid with a burgeoning interest in electronic music and a gradually opening mind to the wider world of music. But so far, hip-hop was passing me by (though I did like that Pharcyde song). In my younger days, I hadn’t been exposed to a lot of rap so all the classics of the genre from Sugarhill Gang and Grandmaster Flash to NWA and A Tribe Called Quest remained obscure.
In the late nineties, contemporary hip-hop seemed little different to the bloated commercial rock that I studiously avoided in favour of the kind of fare suited only to witching hour cable broadcasts. This was the time of gangsta rap supremacy whose big stars were more likely to feature on the 10 o’clock news than the music shows I watched.
In 1996, Snoop Dogg was acquitted of murder and Tupac Shakur was killed in a drive-by shooting, while The Notorious B.I.G. was assassinated the following year. Even worse from my perspective was that the latter event inspired Puff Daddy to release a saccharine tribute to his departed cash cow, I’ll Be Missing You.
Not only did this song top the charts, it became one of the UK's on-rotation mourning songs following the death of Princess Diana. My summer job as a deliveryman meant spending a lot of time in the cab of a truck permanently tuned into BBC Radio 1, which is perhaps the root of my low opinion of Mr. Diddy.
But a year later I was falling in love with hip-hop (if not Sean 'Puffy' Combs) mostly thanks to the influence of one song: Jurassic 5’s Concrete Schoolyard.
Jurassic 5 was actually six—four MCs: Akil, Charli 2na, Mark 7even and Zaakir; and two DJs: Cut Chemist and NuMark—who had been part of different groups: Rebels of Rhythm and Unity Committee. The two crews were based in Los Angeles—the bleeding heart of the gangsta rap scene—but both were looking to create a different style of hip-hop that harked back to its less moneyed roots.
After performing at the same open mic night at LA’s Good Life Café, the six’s mutual admiration soon transformed into a permanent union that became Jurassic 5. It’s an origin story that symbolizes everything that was to make this new group so great: instant harmony, a shared philosophy and a lack of hostility toward rivals.
Both Rebels of Rhythm and Unity Committee had been unable to secure record deals and it was the same old story for Jurassic 5. The group’s style of old school hip-hop that was more brains than brawn, mind over murder, didn’t fit in with the prevailing scene. So they took matters into their own hands and released a nine-track EP on their own label.
There are many great tracks on this self-titled EP, from the flute-backed flow of Jayou to the scientific cut and pasting of Lesson 6: The Lecture. But Concrete Schoolyard tells you all you need to know about Jurassic 5—what they like, what they’re trying to do, what kind of people they are—plus a lot about hip-hop.
The song is an open love letter to the music that was an important part of each group member’s youth—“a secret society that showed me a whole other world”, as Charli 2na once said*. The title suggests nostalgia but also a shift in focus from the grim concrete jungle to a more playful place where you might actually learn something.
Concrete Schoolyard opens with a vocal sample from the 1983 hip-hop movie Wild Style and throughout features lyrical nods to classic rap acts like Eric B & Rakim and EPMD. The lyrics are forthright about the band’s mission to return to the glory days of hip-hop, especially in the memorable harmonies of the chorus:
Like all great hip-hop artists, Jurassic 5 knew that the genre is about connecting with the past, digging deep into the music of black America. In Cut Chemist and DJ NuMark, the band had two incredible record store miners, who not only unearthed rare gems worth sampling, but also knew how to cut and polish them for maximum value.
Concrete Schoolyard’s jewel in the crown is a phenomenal piano riff from Ike Turner & the Kings of Rhythm’s Getting Nasty—five seconds of bluesy soul looped and licked to form a hook that lifts the spirits. There’s also a smile-inducing reference to The Hues Corporation disco hit Rock the Boat, a middle-eight kazoo solo lifted from Freedom’s Get Up and Dance and a Ramsey Lewis drum break for the song’s unexpected coda.
When I first heard the song on MTV, they didn’t play Concrete Schoolyard's superb final 75 seconds. But on the record you hear the sweet piano hook fade, replaced by a raspy drum and deep bass line (this section reappears on the EP as Blacktop Beat), while Akil unleashes an edgier rap featuring some of the song’s best rhymes.
I've always loved the lines: “When I rhyme I hit the designated area / I hope you got your shots cos this is lyrical malaria”, though recent life-changes (moving to America, having a baby) means I now appreciate the wit of: “While y’all drink the Similac, my rhymes are breast-fed.”
However, my favorite lyric is unsurprisingly delivered by Charli 2na—the towering, baritone-voiced heart of Jurassic 5. The Ten Commandments referencing “Killing the first born of lyrical Yul Brynners” is good enough on its own, but the fact that it is preceded by the inspired nonsense of “The tool spinners cooking the full dinner” elevates it to true Dylan-esque genius.
The success of Concrete Schoolyard and the self-released EP finally earned Jurassic 5 a deal with Interscope Records, who released the group’s first album Quality Control in 2000. An excellent confirmation of their growing talent, the record includes a reprise of Concrete Schoolyard, called Concrete and Clay. 2002’s Power in Numbers does have some great songs, but also features a shift towards a more commercial pop sound that was completed by the group’s last record, Feedback.
By this point, Cut Chemist had left the group to make a solo record, while Charli 2na was also recording his own material. The unity of purpose that had brought Jurassic 5 together ebbed away in a tide of musical differences. I guess everyone has to leave the playground behind eventually.
As for me, the aforementioned baby means I'm actually returning to the playground though I'm no longer able to stay up quite so late. But the legacy of that night when Concrete Schoolyard helped open my ears means my own legacy will be raised on a musical diet of original beats and real-live MCs.
*This quote is taken from my 2006 interview with the rapper and DJ NuMark published by Clash Magazine
Follow me on Twitter
If you like this, try:
Jurass Finish First (a close second for my favorite J5 song)
Jayou
Lesson 6: The Lecture
Swing Set (dementedly fun journey through 1930’s jazz)
A Day at the Races (featuring Big Daddy Kane)
Go to 91: Hyperballad by Bjork
Go to 93: Transmission by Joy Division
Go to 91: Hyperballad by Bjork
Go to 93: Transmission by Joy Division
I'm not 100% certain, but it’s probably the second half of 1998. It’s definitely past midnight and I’m surely in an all-too familiar position: planted on a sofa in front the TV, entranced by MTV’s 120 Minutes. The alternative music show was essentially anti-MTV: low-budget videos by non-chart-bothering artists with hardly any commercial breaks. That’s why it was on so late, but being both a night owl and music lover, it seemed made for me.
Perhaps my memory is too hazy and my recollection of two hours of unadulterated quality isn’t quite accurate. But my rosy nostalgia is fuelled by the certainty that one special night I heard two songs that had a profound impact on my musical life. The second we’ll come to at a later date, the first was Jurassic 5.
In those days, I didn’t have much time for hip-hop. I was an indie rock kid with a burgeoning interest in electronic music and a gradually opening mind to the wider world of music. But so far, hip-hop was passing me by (though I did like that Pharcyde song). In my younger days, I hadn’t been exposed to a lot of rap so all the classics of the genre from Sugarhill Gang and Grandmaster Flash to NWA and A Tribe Called Quest remained obscure.
In the late nineties, contemporary hip-hop seemed little different to the bloated commercial rock that I studiously avoided in favour of the kind of fare suited only to witching hour cable broadcasts. This was the time of gangsta rap supremacy whose big stars were more likely to feature on the 10 o’clock news than the music shows I watched.
In 1996, Snoop Dogg was acquitted of murder and Tupac Shakur was killed in a drive-by shooting, while The Notorious B.I.G. was assassinated the following year. Even worse from my perspective was that the latter event inspired Puff Daddy to release a saccharine tribute to his departed cash cow, I’ll Be Missing You.
Not only did this song top the charts, it became one of the UK's on-rotation mourning songs following the death of Princess Diana. My summer job as a deliveryman meant spending a lot of time in the cab of a truck permanently tuned into BBC Radio 1, which is perhaps the root of my low opinion of Mr. Diddy.
But a year later I was falling in love with hip-hop (if not Sean 'Puffy' Combs) mostly thanks to the influence of one song: Jurassic 5’s Concrete Schoolyard.
Jurassic 5 was actually six—four MCs: Akil, Charli 2na, Mark 7even and Zaakir; and two DJs: Cut Chemist and NuMark—who had been part of different groups: Rebels of Rhythm and Unity Committee. The two crews were based in Los Angeles—the bleeding heart of the gangsta rap scene—but both were looking to create a different style of hip-hop that harked back to its less moneyed roots.
After performing at the same open mic night at LA’s Good Life Café, the six’s mutual admiration soon transformed into a permanent union that became Jurassic 5. It’s an origin story that symbolizes everything that was to make this new group so great: instant harmony, a shared philosophy and a lack of hostility toward rivals.
Both Rebels of Rhythm and Unity Committee had been unable to secure record deals and it was the same old story for Jurassic 5. The group’s style of old school hip-hop that was more brains than brawn, mind over murder, didn’t fit in with the prevailing scene. So they took matters into their own hands and released a nine-track EP on their own label.
There are many great tracks on this self-titled EP, from the flute-backed flow of Jayou to the scientific cut and pasting of Lesson 6: The Lecture. But Concrete Schoolyard tells you all you need to know about Jurassic 5—what they like, what they’re trying to do, what kind of people they are—plus a lot about hip-hop.
The song is an open love letter to the music that was an important part of each group member’s youth—“a secret society that showed me a whole other world”, as Charli 2na once said*. The title suggests nostalgia but also a shift in focus from the grim concrete jungle to a more playful place where you might actually learn something.
Concrete Schoolyard opens with a vocal sample from the 1983 hip-hop movie Wild Style and throughout features lyrical nods to classic rap acts like Eric B & Rakim and EPMD. The lyrics are forthright about the band’s mission to return to the glory days of hip-hop, especially in the memorable harmonies of the chorus:
Let’s take it back to the concrete streets
Original beats from real-live MCs
Playground tactics, no rabbit-in-a-hat tricks
Just that classic rap shit from Jurassic
Like all great hip-hop artists, Jurassic 5 knew that the genre is about connecting with the past, digging deep into the music of black America. In Cut Chemist and DJ NuMark, the band had two incredible record store miners, who not only unearthed rare gems worth sampling, but also knew how to cut and polish them for maximum value.
Concrete Schoolyard’s jewel in the crown is a phenomenal piano riff from Ike Turner & the Kings of Rhythm’s Getting Nasty—five seconds of bluesy soul looped and licked to form a hook that lifts the spirits. There’s also a smile-inducing reference to The Hues Corporation disco hit Rock the Boat, a middle-eight kazoo solo lifted from Freedom’s Get Up and Dance and a Ramsey Lewis drum break for the song’s unexpected coda.
When I first heard the song on MTV, they didn’t play Concrete Schoolyard's superb final 75 seconds. But on the record you hear the sweet piano hook fade, replaced by a raspy drum and deep bass line (this section reappears on the EP as Blacktop Beat), while Akil unleashes an edgier rap featuring some of the song’s best rhymes.
I've always loved the lines: “When I rhyme I hit the designated area / I hope you got your shots cos this is lyrical malaria”, though recent life-changes (moving to America, having a baby) means I now appreciate the wit of: “While y’all drink the Similac, my rhymes are breast-fed.”
However, my favorite lyric is unsurprisingly delivered by Charli 2na—the towering, baritone-voiced heart of Jurassic 5. The Ten Commandments referencing “Killing the first born of lyrical Yul Brynners” is good enough on its own, but the fact that it is preceded by the inspired nonsense of “The tool spinners cooking the full dinner” elevates it to true Dylan-esque genius.
The success of Concrete Schoolyard and the self-released EP finally earned Jurassic 5 a deal with Interscope Records, who released the group’s first album Quality Control in 2000. An excellent confirmation of their growing talent, the record includes a reprise of Concrete Schoolyard, called Concrete and Clay. 2002’s Power in Numbers does have some great songs, but also features a shift towards a more commercial pop sound that was completed by the group’s last record, Feedback.By this point, Cut Chemist had left the group to make a solo record, while Charli 2na was also recording his own material. The unity of purpose that had brought Jurassic 5 together ebbed away in a tide of musical differences. I guess everyone has to leave the playground behind eventually.
As for me, the aforementioned baby means I'm actually returning to the playground though I'm no longer able to stay up quite so late. But the legacy of that night when Concrete Schoolyard helped open my ears means my own legacy will be raised on a musical diet of original beats and real-live MCs.
*This quote is taken from my 2006 interview with the rapper and DJ NuMark published by Clash Magazine
Follow me on Twitter
If you like this, try:
Jurass Finish First (a close second for my favorite J5 song)
Jayou
Lesson 6: The Lecture
Swing Set (dementedly fun journey through 1930’s jazz)
A Day at the Races (featuring Big Daddy Kane)
Go to 91: Hyperballad by Bjork
Go to 93: Transmission by Joy Division
Keep up the good work. There songs here i´ve never heard before. :)
ReplyDeleteThanks Dana. Glad to hear you're discovering great new music here. New post just gone up today. Enjoy.
DeleteEnjoyed reading this tribute to a fantastic song, which I came across whilst idly googling the track's lyrics. I also remember the moment when I first heard it and fell in love with it - in a car with friends on the way to a music festival in the early 2000s. I've always felt that good hip hop lyrics have literary merit and are quite postmodern!
ReplyDeleteThanks Charlotte. In the future, Concrete Schoolyard will come with Cliffs Note to explain what Similac and Yul Brynner were.
DeleteThe current version available widely is changed from the original. "we use a pen like a gun, cause we're number one was changed. Among other changes.
ReplyDeleteI am dying to know when and why this happened.