Pitchfork

Although hip-hop culture spans decades, it wasn't until the mid-90s that what we now consider to be underground hip-hop defined itself as a movement. A loose artistic aesthetic was established, the independence-as-freedom stance was cemented, and the key elements (breaking, emceeing, DJing, and graffiti) were revived for a new generation of b-boys and girls. Although one cannot downplay the power of the Internet to spread the message to those in non-urban locations, Fat Beats Records acted as a physical epicenter for the renaissance of roots hip-hop. The staff was comprised of noted DJs that transcended their roles as sales clerks and acted as educators for their patrons and as a distribution lifeline for independent artists who were otherwise ignored. The love and devotion that Fat Beats displayed was infectious, and as hip-hop purism and vinyl culture spread, the company branched out from its original NYC location and opened stores in Los Angeles and Amsterdam. They were also able to launch a label that has released the latest J-Zone and Atmosphere albums, among others.

If any record store/label has earned the right to release a self-aggrandizing compilation album, it's Fat Beats. The first compilation, released last year, was an unmitigated jewel, featuring everyone from the RZA to Blastmaster KRS-One to (comparative) new jacks Kazi and Non Phixion. DJ Eclipse kicks the second volume off with a short intro that cuts and splices the words "Fat Beats" from various hip-hop tracks. Next up is "Make Them Clap" featuring Lootpack's Wildchild and produced by none other than Madlib the Bad Kid. After the long delay between the Lootpack LP, which was released almost four years ago, and Wildchild's solo CD, which is scheduled to be released later this year, there were doubts about whether or not the man still had it in him. "Make them Clap," with its infectiously funky beat and classic "ready on the right" samples, should erase any doubts about Wildchild's stature as one of the left coast's preeminent rhyme technicians. Wildchild sounds as hungry as ever as he spits battle rhymes in his trademark rapid-fire delivery. "Ironically," Wildchild raps, "[I've] been paying more dues than physically paying rent." While it may not be anything revolutionary, emcees like Wildchild personify the old school, on-the-corner mentality and the inclusion of this unreleased track almost single-handedly justifies the purchase of this compilation.

Fellow Lootpacker Madlib also pops up later in the guise of his bugged-out alter ego Quasimoto on his classic "Come On Feet." The track's production, which is a fusion of "Come on Feet Move for Me" (from the blaxploitation classic Sweet Sweetback's Badass Song) and the theme song for the French avant animation classic Fantastic Planet (produced by Serge Gainsbourg arranger Alain Goraguer), captures a soulful paranoia that sounds straight outta the intergalactic hood.

Another highlight is the Saukrates and Common collaboration "Play Dis." The beat, supplied by Saukrates, has an aired-out funk vibe that's more than a little reminiscent of Jay Dee. In other words, it's a perfect track for Common to spit his positive and vaguely political rhymes. Leading off the second verse, Common smoothly rhymes, "Stimulated by a tree of drama/ I advance on the branch of respect and honor/ A patient of the ill state, centered in trauma." If nothing else, the track whets our collective appetite for Common's upcoming LP, Electric Circus, and establishes Canada's Saukrates as one of the few emcees who can hold his own when faced with Common's complex metaphors and wordplay.

With the unreleased song "My Song," Minnesota-based Atmosphere also comes with a lite and funky production that is reminiscent of Jurassic 5's "Concrete Schoolyard" or 4th Avenue Jones' "Back in the Day." Vocalist Slug initially picks up on the childhood reminiscence vibe the track begs for, rapping, "Sitting on the steps with Ant... flipping pig Russian, discussing politics and contraband." However, as the track progresses, Slug's imagery grows darker and more aggressive until the song becomes a taunt to his critics who are "sleeping on life and writing the same scriptures" and act "like they don't know the words to my songs." While the whole I'm-fucking-your-wife diss that the song dissolves into is a bit played (at best), Ant's sweet and slow production keeps the song afloat and contrasts nicely with Slug's dark and personal lyrics.

Other highlights include the Alchemist number with Twin of the Infamous Mobb (aka Mobb Deep). The song features a back-and-forth lyrical duel between Alchemist and Twin, contrasting Alchemist's privileged upbringing with the inner city horror of Twin's childhood. "We used to play with guns," Twin raps, shortly followed by Alchemist declaring, "We used to play ball." The lyrics follow the Alchemist (who rarely rhymes) and Twin through their respective lives until they're ultimately brought together by a love of hip-hop. It's an interesting look at the two different spheres of the genre, and reveals how hip-hop has the potential to break down racial and financial barriers that would have otherwise been insurmountable.

While almost every track on this disc is a certified banger, I did question some of the source material. Mass Influence's "All Out," J-Zone's "Live at Pimp Palace," the Arsonist's "The Session," and "Come on Feet" are all certified classics, but they've also been circulated on so many mixtapes, compilations, and LPs that their inclusion here seems a bit redundant. I'm sure that the peeps at Fat Beats have a small vault of incredible b-sides and unreleased jewels that would make even the most seasoned digger jealous. Why not give us a little more underground love? I also wondered why Fat Beats, which is the Mecca of DJ culture, didn't release a mixed version of this album. With the advent of filesharing and CD burners, most of the compilation's songs are easily attainable without having to drop a penny. And when you have DJ like J-Rocc or Shortkut providing their own interpretation of the songs, it gives the consumer a greater incentive to plop down their $14. Still, these are minor, peripheral complaints and should in no way discourage anyone from checking out this great compilation. This is a worthy reflection of the kingdom that Fat Beats helped create, and I can't wait for a volume three.