Schoolly D

...back in the day a young gun going by the epithet Schoolly D along with DJ Code Money threw down some cheba enhanced jams of street strutting, party tugging urban regeneration grooves with Schoolly kicking in with rudimentary but oh so effective beat box and keyboard washes with scratch ups from the dark side, scraping the edges of dust encrusted reality (the echoed doomy thuds of the first LP are something to behold, this couldn't be made in a 'professional' enviroment, this is cats with a vision and an urgency to lay down the beat)...there's a feeling of panic fuelled claustrophobia permeating some of the cuts on the first two discs (not so much on the third, this could be down to any number of factors, most likely just moving on unconsciously to the next step which is just the next step, there is no grand plan in Schoollys early three joints)but really, when settling in with the sounds we see the panic is just induced by heavy weed abuse and will subside as soon as the piggy patrol car has gone by on its way to the donut shop...the claustrophobia induced is real when these discs are blasting the air, a heavy, heavy basement vibe is in full effect shaking the very soul of the housing projects of Philly in the Reaganomic 80s, a bad time for cash strapped inner cities with welfare hardly covering the cost of frosted cookies and a 40 ounce...Schoolly raps about what he knows, the street life, leaning on the corner playing the games of the projects, the game of existence for all who care to indulge in the wilder side of the suckers world, because suckers surely do populate the avenues and streets of AmeriKKKa...due to Schoollys subject matter he's picked up the reputation as 'inventor of gangsta rap' which may or may not be true, it all depends on the perspective of the onlooker and their knowledge/experience of project life, it's no good checking this from a 'middle class' position, this isn't for nerds to thrill and tremble to, it's just a cat laying down some words about what's going on, real or imaginary in his neck of the woods, no 'O-T-T' boasting, just chatting about the way it is (was) over the primitive mixology of himself and Code Moneys backdrops...Schoollys first three albums were not for suckers who think they're major players in the underworld, it's more for homeys in the hood, cats who surf the project elevators, smoke weed on the rooftops and whistle to the fly girls going through the buildings, the honeys in turn just laugh at such foolishness and keep on moving...there is plenty of humour in these grooves, not forced, just the light amusement of everyday existence, the funny/weird situations that crop up on the streets, in the burger bars and pizza joints...dig a real cat who played the game on his own terms and created some HOT blasts for all to grab and savor forever more, a cool buzz for when it's needed...