Decon Records

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Last month, when blaxplotation legend Rudy Ray Moore died, I penned a column about the black vinyl chitlin circuit of what the old folks used to call “party records.” These music-less discs that my aunts and uncles listened to when their bid-whist drinking buddies came over, were raunchy comedy records where the gutbucket performers spoke very frankly about Black sexuality.  

Recorded by the aforementioned Moore as well as Redd Foxx, Wild Man Steve, LaWanda Page and many others, these discs were released by small labels and had nasty covers that usually featured nude black models that made my adolescent hormones percolate. Still, once one got past the album art and actually listened to the records, there were some very funny stories detailing mating rituals, personal hygiene and intercourse in the Black community.

In a sense, the debut disc from 88-Keys The Death of Adam reminds me of those now-dusty albums, but updated for the nerdy hip-hop sect. Not that there has ever been much separation between sex and hip-hop (mommas, please keep your babies away from BET videos), but very few rappers know how to handle the material in mature and funny ways that can withstand repeated listening.

Along with his eccentric looks, a collection of Polo fashions and a Kayne West connection (dude executive produced-whatever that means-the project), it’s obvious that 88 (who has produced tracks for Talib Kweli and Musiq Soulchild) is trying to make a difference. Unlike the naysayers ringing the alarm and screaming, “Hip-hop is dead,” this brother is ready to challenge the genre, and have a little fun at the same time.

Borrowing a few pages from the songbooks and bugged verses of artists Biz Markie (“Just A Friend”), Digital Underground (“Humpty Hump”) and De La Soul (“Buddy”), as well as sexual chroniclers Henry Miller and Richard Pryor, the talented 88-Keys has compiled a wonderful cycle of comedic songs about doing the do. Indeed, the ambitious 88-Keys dedicates the entire disc to Adam’s story of sex in the city.

Beginning with the opening track “Morning Wood,” a whimsical song about the joy of humping around in the AM hours, it’s obvious that 88’s musical palette is inspired as much by ‘70s pop as he is by street beats. The fusion of various otherworldly sounds, lush arrangements, wild styled piano and eclectic samples on the album reminds one of a streetwise Danger Mouse.

In addition, the ghetto girl chatter/narrative between tracks from Leora Edut are the most entertaining skits heard on a rap record since the Mad Rapper popped junk in the vintage Bad Boy days.

As the listener follows uptown boy Adam through his illmatic life in pursuit of the poontang, we are privy to everything from the rocked-out “The Friends Zone” (which I must confess reminds me of my own misadventures with da ladies) to Adam giving his pee-pee a peep talk on “Stay Up! (Viagra)” to contracting a sexually transmitted disease on “Burnin’ Bush” (a soulfully blazing collaboration with Redman), one is impressed about how Keys keeps unfolding the story.

As a critic, I often feel compelled to stick pins in the aural balloons of artists, but I’m finding that hard to do with The Death of Adam. Truthfully, I could care less if the Kayne West influence is a little thick at times or if “Dirty Peaches” sounds like a Prince reject during his Camille-period or if the “death” scene is anti-climatic. To my ears, 88-Keys is as fresh as the Daisy Age in ‘88. Realizing that a little musical moxy, clever lyricism and biting humor will take him far in the so-called game of hip-hop, 88-Keys has given us his best.

This story is filed under: Entertainment