Originally published on It Is Happening Again on March 26, 2014
There wasn’t much excitement in the former mining town where
I grew up. We always joked that when the ‘90s came around, its residents would
be right on the ball. We made this joke in 1995.
So, it caused something of a stir when the townsfolk awoke
one morning to find strange, ‘foreign-sounding’ names sprayed in large black
letters across shop fronts, shutters, brick walls and, well, anywhere with a
surface really.
‘Wu-Tang Clan.’
Who were they? What did they want? One person I spoke to
suggested that a Triad-style Chinese gang had moved into town and its members had
set about marking their territory across the frontages of Woolworths and
Clinton Cards to show everyone that they meant business.
The names of their leaders were also there for all to see:
Method Man. Chef Raekwon. Ghostface Killah. Ol’ Dirty Bastard?!
The graffiti has long since gone, of course, but looking
back, it’s difficult to tell what the good townspeople would have found more
frightening: a Triad takeover or what those spray-painted words REALLY
signified.
Enter the Wu-Tang.
When the Staten Island collective first burst on to the
scene more than two decades ago, it was clear that they were not like other rappers.
Their music was too brutal to be lumped in with the warmer G-Funk sound
emanating from the opposite West Coast. Equally, it didn’t take itself too
seriously, unlike a lot of the hardcore gangsta rap at the time.
It’s no understatement to say that ‘Enter the Wu-Tang (36
Chambers)’ was a total game-changer. They were less a gang and more a movement,
masterminded by de facto leader and producer RZA. They established an identity
which went way beyond their music: it’s a safe bet that more people have heard the
name Wu-Tang Clan than have actually heard their music – not to mention those
unaware that Wu-Tang is anything more than a clothing label (yep, the Wu empire
conquered that market too). But I digress…
"Shaolin shadowboxing, and the Wu-Tang sword style. If what you say is true, the Shaolin and the Wu-Tang could be dangerous. Do you think your Wu-Tang sword can defeat me?"
"En garde. I'll let you try my Wu-Tang style."
"En garde. I'll let you try my Wu-Tang style."
This opening dialogue, lifted from obscure late 70s/early
80s Hong Kong films, sets the tone for the album. The kung fu mythology theme
is one which runs throughout the record – indeed, ‘Enter the Wu-Tang (36
Chambers)’ is divided into two sections: Shaolin Sword and Wu-Tang Sword. The
battle theme is also evident in the Clan members’ lyrical style – each track
sees selected members (rarely do they all appear together) square up to each
other on the mic, flexing their lyrical muscles to see who can outdo the other
with the most out-there free-association lyrics which veer between downright
brutal and frankly hilarious, often blurring the two (the torture scene skit at
the start of ‘M.E.T.H.O.D. Man’ is a case in point). Who wins these battles?
Who cares? The results are never anything less than dazzling, regardless.
Musically, it’s difficult to find comparisons – even Wu-Tang
Clan themselves failed to match their own stunning debut (although solo efforts
from GZA and Raekwon came pretty damn close). In other words, this record is
like nothing else that came before it. There is very little in the way of hooks
or choruses and where other hip hop acts of the day would simply lift old songs
wholesale and use them as the basis for their new tracks, RZA would instead
take snippets of forgotten soul and funk and turn those brief snatches of music
into instruments in their own right. The cheap equipment used during the
recording process lends the album a raw, dusty sound, while the samples
themselves (the sparse Chinese yangqin on ‘Da Mystery of Chessboxin’’ or the
ghostly piano on ‘C.R.E.A.M.’, for example) give the whole record an eerie,
unsettling tone, as if you’re eavesdropping into the Clan’s conversation and
any minute now you’re going to sneeze or nudge whatever you’re hiding behind and
give the game away. Wu-Tang Clan Ain't Nuthing Ta F' Wit.
If your opinion of Wu-Tang Clan is based solely on ‘Gravel
Pit’ (an uncharacteristically radio-friendly offering by their standards),
then you’ve got some serious catching up to do, my friend. ‘Enter the Wu-Tang
(36 Chambers)’ is your starting point.
Listen and learn.
No comments:
Post a Comment