FEATURE:
New World Water
Mos Def’s Black on Both Sides at Twenty-Five
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ONE of the defining…
and most important Rap albums of the late-1990s, Mos Def’s Black on Both Sides turns twenty-five on 12th October. If you have never heard the album, then it is a masterpiece that is worth seeking out. The debut studio album from Yasiin’s Bey’s (born Dante Terrell Smith) alter ego, Black on Both Sides is filled with brilliantly chosen and effective samples. It is an entertaining, original and often challenging listen that was different to any other Rap album that year. Heralded as one of the genre’s bright hopes of the twenty-first century, critics were blown away by Black on Both Sides. Twenty-five years later and there is still nothing quite like it out there. I want to finish with a couple of reviews. Before that, two twentieth anniversary features from 2019. Stereogum noted how Black on Both Sides was not filled with clichés and tropes that seemed to define Rap of that era. The bragging, the bling and everything that came with that. First an actor and then a rapper, it was an interesting route into the industry for a very different type of Rap artist. Someone who instantly stood aside from his peers:
“When Mos Def’s debut album Black On Both Sides arrived — 20 years ago, tomorrow — it was a refreshing breath of nasty New York City air of the Brooklyn variety. If you’ve ever lived in or even just visited NYC, then you know sometimes it has the most stale, putrid, muggy air that will ever fill your lungs. For an album so staunchly rooted in Brooklyn and hip-hop history, to exude that air and still sound revitalizing was quite the feat.
On paper it didn’t seem like Mos Def, born Dante Smith, had the résumé to qualify him for a push to rap’s upper echelons as the millennium changed over. He executed the rap superstar playbook somewhat backwards. He had the hood bona fides — hailing from the Brooklyn neighborhood Bedford-Stuyvesant when it was arguably at its worst — but in a time when rappers weren’t shit if they hadn’t diversified with a clothing line and acting roles, he was an actor first. He made his professional acting debut in an ABC TV movie in 1988 at age 14 and went on to land a role as the oldest child on the sitcom You Take The Kids. He was also Bill Cosby’s sidekick on the short-lived show The Cosby Mysteries, and appeared in several commercials including a Visa check card ad where he pretended to geek out upon meeting Deion Sanders.
Rap was at a critical juncture. The culture of hip-hop and the medium of rap were becoming more defined as separate entities while still occupying the same space as the century rapidly came to a close. At the 1999 Grammys, Lauryn Hill claimed the first ever Album Of The Year award for a hip-hop and R&B release, with the tour de force that is The Miseducation Of Lauryn Hill. But at the same time, Juvenile and Cash Money foreshadowed a commercial rap boom when they declared both 1999 and 2000 were theirs on one of the biggest hits of the year, “Back That Azz Up.” Dr. Dre’s 2001 would earn a gold certification in its first week en route to a platinum plaque with over 90 seconds of audio from a staged orgy on it.
There is more of a peaceful coexistence of rap on top and hip-hop in the underground now, but 1999 saw a second wave of tension between artists who were considered to be continuing the traditions of hip-hop and those who were perceived to be selling out for money and fame. It had happened once before in the late ’80s and early ’90s, when rap moved out West and many hip-hop traditionalists on the East Coast thought N.W.A were sensationalizing their lifestyle to pimp it across the country under the guise of “street knowledge.” Hence Common’s disappointment with the game in his 1994 track “I Used To Love H.E.R.”
It seemed the first battle was lost as sales sky-rocketed while any semblance of consciousness in the mainstream was going to die along with Tupac and the Notorious B.I.G. So this second wave of resistance against the commercialization and globalization of hip-hop had much more urgency. It felt like a last stand against what was most likely inevitable.
Rap had already existed and thrived in other regions, but traditionalists, especially those in the five boroughs of NYC, felt it was more derivative each time another region got its hands on it. New York still occupied the majority of the charts with five of the 10 rap albums with the highest first week sales in 1999, but the gap was closing quickly. In addition to other regions gaining ground, albums from politically savvy veterans like Public Enemy or the Sugarhill Gang and newcomers like Nas and the Roots failed to register blips on the popular radar and even fell short critically in some cases. It was becoming dismal for fans and artists of substance alike, and though they knew they were on the losing team in terms of sales and popularity, one MC would give them a last glimmer of hope.
Enter Black On Both Sides — a marvelous solo debut from Mos Def that would briefly, yet brilliantly, blackhole some of the spotlight from the commercial takeover and give it back to hip-hop’s early tenets, back to New York and cognizance. Four months after its release, the album would hit number one on Billboard’s Top Rap Albums Chart and be certified Gold, signifying 500,000 units shipped. Back then, a lot of big rap albums would go Gold or close to it in their first week. Yet the album reaching those heights after moving just 78,000 units in its first week meant people were hooked long after the initial rush of the album’s newness. Ingenuity often takes time to sink in.
It’s not hard to see why the album grew on listeners. Black On Both Sides possesses a wonderful depth and breadth in the midst of a rhyme clinic with a steady current of blackness and Brooklyn as its lifeblood. The man either says, spells, or alludes to Brooklyn over 35 times on the album collectively, and does so 19 times on the track “Brooklyn” alone. The constant shoutouts don’t feel like overkill because he roams so far away home in the number of topics he touches on.
The Mighty Mos addresses the state of hip-hop on the intro “Fear Not Of Man,” the importance of community on “Love,” lust on “Ms. Fat Booty,” the dangers of flexing too hard and living life too fast on “Got” and “Speed Law,” the global water crisis on “New World Water,” the legacy of black music he is attempting to keep alive on “Rock ‘N’ Roll,” escaping poverty on “Climb,” black social mobility on “Mr. Nigga,” and much more. He does it all with dazzling wordplay, captivating storytelling, sophisticated similes and metaphors, and complex rhyme schemes.
Immediately he lets everyone know he’s in tune with what’s happening to the rap game on the intro “Fear Not of Man,” and positions himself as someone who should be heard in the matter. Yet it’s not some self-aggrandizing spiel. It’s simply an answer to a question: “Yo Mos, what’s getting ready to happen with hip-hop?” He replies: “Whatever’s happening with us.” He goes on to explain that “Me, you, everybody, we are hip-hop” and “Hip-hop is about the people.”
Though he offers tidbits about people not being valuable because they “got a whole lot of money” — setting himself in opposition to the birth of the bling era — he doesn’t come off as preachy or corny. There is a measured nonchalance that lets you know he’s spent a lot of time contemplating the fate of the culture he loves, and he’s not worried. It’s the perfect first offering to set the tone for the album because he comes off as knowledgeable, but he isn’t “trying to kick knowledge,” as Nas would say. That is a delicate balance to strike and Mos does it well, making what follows on the 17-track behemoth easy to digest and accept.
The intro frames the subsequent “Hip Hop” perfectly. It’s understood why Mos has to keep the OG Spoonie Gee alive with the opening line “One for the treble, two for the time.” Lines like “The industry just a better built cell block” still have plenty of bite, but they don’t come off as condescending. The sharp barbs feel more like a man who cares deeply for his people, his culture, and his music than some prophet sent to deliver the rap game from evil and temptation. The transition into the wonderful storytelling on “Love” further establishes his conviction and what he’s fighting for. His depiction of the love and warmth he felt despite a poor upbringing in the Roosevelt housing projects leads listeners to realize there is so much lost when a rapper’s downtrodden community is exploited for the sake of image and profit.
Mos continues with the engaging storytelling on “Ms. Fat Booty,” subverting the rise of the “video hoe” moment where women were basically only cast as eye candy ornaments. His story of how Sharice opened his nose up is masterful; it’s a testament to Mos’ skill that he was able to work an Idaho Potato into a rhyme and not come across irredeemably cheesy. Perhaps the best part of this song is that you can picture all of this going down in a Brooklyn club and continuing in the neighborhood, like a Spike Lee screenplay. Up to the halfway point of the album, it’s fair to say he hasn’t even left Brooklyn yet, but it’s already captivating.
What partly ties everything he expands on together is the steady current of blackness underneath. “Rock ‘N’ Roll” in particular highlights a black legacy in rock music that you still can’t find in history textbooks to this day, featuring everyone from Chuck Berry to Bad Brains. Lines like “Fools done upset the Old Man River/ Made him carry slave ships and fed him dead niggas” on “New World Water” reminds you that his skin color informs his perspective first and foremost. “Mr. Nigga” reminds you that other people’s perspectives are informed first and foremost by his skin color as well, no matter where he gets to in life. “Habitat” shows you that there are Brooklyns all over the country, and all over the world with resonant lines like “Son I been plenty places in my life and time/ And regardless where home is, son home is mine.”
Another aspect that keeps Black On Both Sides cohesive is its production. Though this album isn’t quite Questlove and company locked in a studio together being geniuses, it is one of the more loosely affiliated Soulquarian projects. The sonics are not as groundbreaking and quintessential as they are on D’Angelo’s Voodoo or Erykah Badu’s Mama’s Gun, but they’re smart and sophisticated in matching Mos’ every move. (Mos was also heavily involved on the production side of the album, as he tends to be.)”.
Prior to coming to some reviews, there is another great feature that marked Black on Both Sides at twenty. One of the finest debut albums of the 1990s, Albumism went into depth. Even if Mos Def’s fourth studio album, The Ecstatic of 2009, was a return to form, his second and third albums – 2004’s The New Danger and 2006’s True Magic – could not live up the sheer brilliance of his debut. So hard to follow a genius debut of such stature and regard:
“Black On Both Sides is a sprawling undertaking that matches Mos Def’s aspirations. Clocking in at over 70 minutes, it sometimes feels overlong and in need of focus, but when it’s on point, it’s better than many of the releases of its era. Mos Def does not lack for ambition. He tackles both the macro and micro, educating the listeners about global shortages while also chasing the fine shorty who lives up the block. His drive to create and inspire is impressive, and it resulted in an album that still holds up today.
Mos begins Black On Both Sides by speaking extensively about his love for the music. The Diamond D-produced “Hip-Hop” plays like a journal recounting the important components of the culture, each one integral to its development. He outlines the art form’s evolution, explaining how emcees can construct their rhymes, and breaking down the cyclical nature of popularity within the music. Mos also stresses how the music is not created in a vacuum, but rather it’s shaped by the environment in which it’s created.
Meanwhile, “Love” is Mos’ love letter to the art of emceeing. Over a piano loop of Bill Evans’ “I Love You Porgy,” Mos pays homage to classic tracks like Eric B. & Rakim’s “I Know You Got Soul,” as he testifies to being consumed by his passion to create, chronicling how he first fell in love with the music during an era when few considered that hip-hop would have a lasting legacy.
“Speed Law” is one of the best songs that Mos ever recorded, a master-class in rhyme construction and flow, as he continuously drops an onslaught of quotables over sped-up samples of Big Brother and the Holding Company and Christine Perfect. “Black steel in the hour, assemble my skill form my power,” he raps. “My poems crush bones into powder; you mumble like a coward / I’m Mos Def, you need to speak louder!” As he spits his rapid-fire lines, he implores other emcees to “slow down” and be aware of their surroundings. He later warns wack emcees to be aware of their deficiencies, rapping, “Tell the feds, tell your girl, tell your mother / Conference call your wack crew and tell each other.”
“Ms. Fat Booty,” the album’s first single, solidified his well-earned reputation as an extremely capable story teller. After a pair of “meet cutes” with the smoking hot Sharice (“ass so fat you could see it from the front”), he begins an increasingly physical relationship. He becomes more and more infatuated with the woman, only for her to keep him at a distance. The song illustrates the differences in expectations that can occur in a relationship, and how men can project their own desires onto the motivations of the objects of their affection. The production, handled by Ayatollah, is some of the best of the late ’90s era, as he expertly chops the obscure Aretha Franklin track “One Step Ahead.”
Mos mostly holds down the lengthy album on his own, rapping (or singing) by himself on nearly every track. But when Mos does utilize guests, the results are great. Mos teams up with Busta Rhymes on “Do It Now,” trading verses over bouncy keyboards on a beat produced by Mr. Khaliyl. “Know That” is a sinister string-driven Black Star reunion, featuring a fiery verse by Kweli. Kweli unleashes his fury upon wack emcees, rapping, “You make a mockery of what I represent properly / Yo, why you starting me? I take that shit straight to the artery / Intellectual property, I got the title and the deed / I pay for rent, with the tears and sweat and what I bleed / Emcees imitate the way we walk, the way we talk / You cats spit lyrical pork with no spiritual thought.”
One of Black On Both Sides’ central themes is the celebration of the area of Mos’ birth. Songs like “Brooklyn” provide a window into the city’s largest borough in all of its gritty, pre-gentrification glory, back when it would be unthinkable to walk to the corner of Putnam and Tompkins Ave. even in broad daylight. Mos splits the track into three separate “moves,” one produced by Ge-Ology and the other two produced by Mos himself, each with its own distinct feel and groove. And throughout the song, Mos makes it clear that the rough environment where he was raised doesn’t temper his affection for the place of his birth. “I love my city, sweet and gritty in land to outskirts,” he declares. “Nickname ‘Bucktown’ ’cause we prone to outburst.”
Mos was ahead of his time with “New World Water,” where he foretells of an impending fresh water shortage over a bubbly track produced by Psycho Les. Mos describes how the ravages of global warming and the wasteful nature of the wealthy are setting the stage for a time when the water supply will be completely privatized and “you be buying Evian just to take a fucking bath.”
As mentioned earlier, Mos is a skilled singer, and some of the album’s most memorable entries don’t feature any rapping on his part. The most notable is “UMI Says,” the album’s second single, often known for its use in a commercial for Air Jordans. Mos “put[s] my heart and soul into this song,” reflecting on the importance of enjoying the moment because “tomorrow may never come.” Mos, who plays bass on the song, is joined by the late great jazz instrumentalist Weldon Irvine, who plays organ. Will.I.Am of the Black Eyed Peas also contributes, playing keyboard and helping give the song its unique groove.
Black On Both Sides was a hit critically and commercially. It was certified Gold, which was completely unheard of for an “underground” hip-hop album during the late ’90s. However, the future didn’t hold similar success for Mos. Five years later he would release The New Danger (2004), of which there are many passionate fans out there. I’m not one of them.
The New Danger was followed by a decade-and-a-half of malaise, where Mos only occasionally seemed to care about making music. While he released the masterpiece that was The Ecstatic (2009), too often he seemed to be putting in the least amount of effort required. This resulted in clunkers like Tru3 Magic (2006) and December 99th (2016).
But whatever slip-ups Mos may have made in the subsequent 20 years that followed BOBS, it doesn’t diminish the brilliance that’s often found on this album. It established that when swinging for the fences, Mos could launch a 550-foot dinger. With a potential upside like that, believing that Mos could reshape hip-hop in his own image didn’t seem that far-fetched”.
I will end up with some reviews. Sharp observations around a variety of subjects. This confidence and bravado melting with some with new-school poetry, Brooklyn’s Mos Def was instantly heralded as a new king of Rap. Even if Black on Both Sides is a bit long, there are very few weak moments. So many sharp and playful lyrics. A distinct singing and lyrical voice that fuses perfectly on a titanic debut. This is what AllMusic had to say in their review:
“Mos Def's partnership with Talib Kweli produced one of the most important hip-hop albums of the late '90s, 1997's brilliant Black Star. Consciously designed as a return to rap's musical foundations and a manifesto for reclaiming the art form from gangsta/playa domination, it succeeded mightily on both counts, raising expectations sky-high for Mos Def's solo debut. He met them all with Black on Both Sides, a record every bit as dazzling and visionary as Black Star. Black on Both Sides strives to not only refine but expand the scope of Mos Def's talents, turning the solo spotlight on his intricate wordplay and nimble rhythmic skills -- but also his increasing eclecticism. The main reference points are pretty much the same -- old-school rap, which allows for a sense of playfulness as well as history, and the Native Tongues posse's fascination with jazz, both for its sophistication and cultural heritage. But they're supported by a rich depth that comes from forays into reggae (as well as its aura of spiritual conscience), pop, soul, funk, and even hardcore punk (that on the album's centerpiece, "Rock n Roll," a dissection of white America's history of appropriating black musical innovations). In keeping with his goal of restoring hip-hop's sociopolitical consciousness, Def's lyrics are as intelligent and thoughtfully crafted as one would expect, but he doesn't stop there -- he sings quite passably on several tracks, plays live instruments on others (including bass, drums, congas, vibraphone, and keyboards), and even collaborates on a string arrangement. In short, Black on Both Sides is a tour de force by an artist out to prove he can do it all. Its ambition and execution rank it as one of the best albums of 1999, and it consolidates Mos Def's position as one of hip-hop's brightest hopes entering the 21st century”.
I am going to end with a review from Everything Is Noise. There were a lot of positive reviews when Black on Both Sides came out in 1999. Retrospective reviews have been as glowing. Providing an alternative to the Rap scene of the late-1990s, you can feel the influence and resonance of Black on Both Sides in years since. It still resounds to this day. It does demand you immerse yourself in every moment:
“The spoken word that starts out Mos Def’s immaculate masterpiece Black On Both Sides is basically a TED Talk on the merits of art as a reflection of the people that make it. Throughout the album’s 71 minutes, hip-hop is defined, delineated, characterized, and bound – then pushed beyond all established terms.
In retrospect, 1999 was a weird time for hip-hop. Artists were fighting to keep the old-school alive while reluctantly – unstoppably – moving forward into a new millennium, and a new era for music. Mos Def, with his debut LP no less, was someone looking to unite the spirit of the new and old. With the jazz sample-based instrumentals, everything sounds communal and finely aged. More traditional hip-hop production feels respectful of the art and confident – firm, but not aggressive.
Black On Both Sides is welcoming and intelligent, with Mos taking the role of a cultural orator, a poet laureate, or any other supremely persevering figure blessed with wisdom and an art for spreading it. You feel compelled to inch closer to his voice like a starry-eyed kid entranced by story time so you don’t risk missing out on a single bar. The matriarchal magic of “Umi Says” is infectious, with Mos singing these pervasive melodies of love, light, and growth. “Rock N Roll” contends with the black roots of the genre and the appropriation of it by white artists and label heads that culminates in an explosive, punk-fueled climax with blistering guitars and drums while Mos yells, ‘Elvis Presley ain’t got no soul/Jimi Hendrix is rock and roll/You may dig on the Rolling Stones/But everything they did they stole.’
Quickly, it’s apparent that two things fuel him as an artist and human: knowledge and faith. His musings on racism and microaggression (“Mr. Ni**a”), the commodification and corruption of the world’s water (“New World Water”), or even sound advice on how to not get juxed in New York (“Got”) are feel so well-measured. A devout Muslim, references to Islam are peppered throughout as a conduit to imbue his art with a divine light that makes songs shine brighter. No song is weak – the only song I tend to skip is “Ms. Fat Booty” which, as classic of a storytelling track it is, there’s a highly antiquated, straight-up racist reference to the eponymous curvy lady in the lyrics that I just don’t care for.
Black On Both Sides is celebratory of where we’re at, where we’re going, and where we were (and sometimes grateful that we’re no longer there). It’s a celebration of people – in all our flaws, history, and being. With watershed albums like this, we realize we’re going to be all right, and hip-hop will be all right in turn”.
Yasiin Bey entered the Rap world with the 1998 E.P., Mos Def & Talib Kweli Are Black Star. His debut, Black on Both Sides, came out through Rawkus/Priority. Seen as one of the best Rap/Hip-Hop- albums ever, I hope there is celebration of this incredible work on its twenty-fifth anniversary. I remember when Black on Both Sides was released on 12th October, 1999. I was not familiar with his work but I was instantly intrigued by this album. It still sounds relevant and hypnotic to this day. Make sure that you go and listen to…
THIS phenomenal debut.