Anniversaries of albums, when they come around, don't really register until you get into larger amounts. Yesterday was the 30th anniversary of one of my favorite Hip-Hop albums ever, Do You Want More?!!!?! by The Roots. I came across Questlove and Black Thought's post on Instagram marking the anniversary, which asked fans to share what the album meant to them. I literally said that I would write an essay on how much this album played a part in my life in my comment on that post. But in order to do that, we've got to go back to the summer before.
It’s late July 1994, and I anticipated entering my senior year at Francis Lewis High School. If I wasn't hanging out on the block, I was inside devouring Hip-Hop videos and catching Stretch and Bobbito on the late night tip if I wasn’t watching kung-fu movies or Blaxploitation films. I remember turning to Rap City on BET and seeing the video for “Distortion To Static.” The slow drop of the turntable needle on the record, a cut to Black Thought and the other members of The Roots hanging out in a dark basement with a speaker and outlet catching fire. It was gritty and striking and was in perfect timing with Thought’s opening lyrics. I remember being mesmerized by that video every time it came on. So by the time the album dropped, I made sure that I snagged my cassette copy from Hot Waxx (RIP) on Jamaica Avenue (THE AVE).
Do You Want More to me, was a sonic shockwave. These cats from Philly were unlike what I had been used to from the city in Three Times Dope ( side note: Live from Acknickulous Land needed more love) and DJ Jazzy Jeff and The Fresh Prince. I had been digging more into jazz at that time, partially inspired by my father and by other Hip-Hop artists I had been enjoying to that point. It helped me navigate the “grown but not grown” feelings I was dealing with as a young Black teen getting the chance to explore more of New York City. I was working at the Queens Public Library, trying to get into romantic situations with young ladies, I even got into St. Ides and being one of those midnight marauders a la A Tribe Called Quest (but always on the edge of that ‘cause I would catch hell from my mother going past that curfew.) It was a golden time. The album was part of our constant soundtrack to that time. It gave us the feeling of how we imagined our folks checking out the bands of Miles Davis, John Coltrane, and Dizzy Gillespie in their day. “Essaywhuman!!!??!” gives you the same feel of the best of that genre’s live albums, right down to the background chatter at the Trocadero where they recorded this track. Even the cover gave you that feel...to have the group peer out at you, in this shade of blue that portrays nighttime more vividly than you'd believe, was magnetic.
Riffing on that part…it’s hard to accurately jot down the ELECTRICITY I felt hearing “? Vs. Rahzel” for the first time, then making its segway into the album’s title track with bagpipes. MUTHAFUGGIN’ BAGPIPES. To this day, it’s one of the most audacious choices I’ve come across in music, period. Go back and listen to that track again and tell me different. I’ll wait. Meet you on the next line.
Okay.
I wasn’t lying, right?
Do You Want More is one of those albums I can throw on and just vibe out to, much like this Saturday morning. There’s a little bittersweetness that rises up when I hear Malik B’s straightforward tone and lyricism throughout this album. I felt like this album and their next, IlladelphHalflife, was him at his best. To count him among those stars of the culture who’s no longer here to enjoy the love coming this album’s way stings. Even more, being the same age that he was when passed. That goes for Hub, the towering bassist who always rocked that chewstick along with the groove. And I can’t write another sentence without being in gratitude to the late Rich Nichols, the lighthouse (as Quest calls him in his autobiography) and manager of the group.
Do You Want More helped me step forward out of some shyness and being in my head a bit too much. It was on when I started jotting down lines to some of my early poetry, and was a balm for moments of confusion - I mean, “Silent Treatment” wound up being a track I’d play to console myself after a bout of unrequited teenage love or a breakup. “I Remain Calm” is a track I’ll pop on when I need to cool the fuck out after a stressful situation on a work level or on the personal tip. From the moment I first let the tape rock all those years ago to now streaming it through my Beats Pill speaker as I write this, I’m truly grateful to The Roots for blessing the world with this masterpiece. And I’m sure I’m going to reiterate this statement in another 30 years, ancestors willing.