ReviewSTACKS.com – Rap reviews, features and commentary

He's a hooligan with the words.

Andrew Schweizer – Editor-In-Chief

I grew up in the 1970s – let the fact that I’m in my 20s have no bearing on that statement. When I was small I remember my mom really loving four things: Her husband, her kids (me and my sister), Led Zeppelin and Earth, Wind and Fire. As an impressionable little sponge, I quickly grew to love the hard, blues sound that Zeppelin had as well as the smooth, melodic rhythm that made EWF, well, EWF. I could jump between Communication Breakdown and That’s The Way of the World better than John Kerry hopped between campaign issues.

As I grew, and as my musical roots dug deeper, I started to branch out in two ways. The Zeppelin side of me started to make its way more towards blues, and with the help of my Dad, jazz. Muddy Waters, John Coltrane, B.B. King, Robert Johnson and T-Bone Walker became common names to me. Conversely, Earth, Wind and Fire’s influence pushed me towards even more seventies R&B, which led to a brief stint (during my seventh grade year) with Parliament/Funkadelic. I almost grew dreadlocks but I did go to school with some ridiculous glasses and florescent pants.

Once I hit middle school my love of R&B and soul music led me to hip-hop. At that point, Coolio, Wu-Tang and Tupac, among others, were popular. I neglected the content, for the most part, and just focused on the music. I remember liking how the deep bass drum and a snare could make you tap your chest with your finger to keep the beat, or make you want to dance (while vacuuming the house on a Saturday morning and realizing your mother is watching you and laughing). Now that I’m a little older, I can see and explain why my 11-year-old, chunky, half-mexican self would go to his room and bump Gangster’s Paradise until he got told to go to bed. Hip-hop, specifically good hip-hop, is poetry set to its sonic equivalent. It’s a story with a heartbeat. The real magic in music is that it connects to you in two ways – it gets your head and heart. Keep your headphones on.

Contact Andrew via e-mail or follow his updates on Twitter.

Nahshon Landrum, the 25K man.

Nahshon Landrum – Managing Editor

I have been a fan of hip hop since the early 1990’s when I first heard LL Cool J’s “Mama Said Knock You Out.” Growing up in Los Angeles, I was exposed to a broad spectrum of music; specifically rap, both mainstream and underground.

In early 2001, I began to look at hip-hop as a genre, culture and industry with a much more critical eye. It was this year that I went to my first hip-hop show, which was a bunch of local acts in a rundown bar with terrible production, amateur equipment and an armory of late 80’s gangster rap lyrics packed with misogyny and false bravado. Regardless, what I took from that experience was an appreciation of the passion that exists behind the lyrics and beats that gives the music quality and worth that can’t be broken down empirically or scientifically quantified.

I was impressed by the fact that this genre provided a voice for people who were previously unheard, which is exactly what makes hip-hop socially powerful.