Grandmaster Flash & the Furious Five were the archetypal old school hip hop act. Dressed like funkateers, they put out a sequence of innovative records including “The Adventures of Grandmaster Flash on the Wheels of Steel, a track made entirely of samples and scratching. They split up in 1982 over the electro-rap classic “The Message”, essentially a solo record by lead MC Melle Mel but credited to the full group. That same year Afrika Bambaataa, “the Godfather of Hip Hop”, who had been leader of the Black Spades gang before discovering hip hop and turning it into Zulu Nation, released the futuristic, Kraftwerk-sampling “Planet Rock”.
But trends in rap changed quickly. People were tiring of disco-influenced rap and futuristic funk clothing. Cue Run-DMC, and their first single, 1983’s “It’s Like That”/”Sucker MCs”. The first “new school” hip hop record, it marked the return of the street, and of rock, to hip hop. Their records were minimal, their garb plain (tracksuits, glasses, Adidas), their lyrics tough, boastful, their line-up stripped to the bone. As next generation rap fans, disappointed that even the great Afrika Bambaataa had never managed to capture his sparse live sound on record, they were determined to to keep it hard. They were managed by Run’s brother, business genius Russell Simmons; his Def Jam label, started with producer Rick Rubin, released records by new school stars like LL Cool J, as well as the Beastie Boys, originally a hardcore band, and the seminal thrash band Slayer. This was the new rock, and Simmons and Rubin knew white middle-class kids would go crazy for it. Aided by MTV, Run-DMC’s 1986 album, Raising Hell, duly ate the world via the Aerosmith collaboration “Walk This Way”, as did the Beastie Boys’ AC/DC-sampling punk-rap album Licensed to Ill.
"The records kept coming and got better and better: De La Soul, A Tribe Called Quest, Big Daddy Kane. On the West Coast something newer and more malevolent was brewing, ready to take gangster rap to the next level"
Rap was reaching more people than ever. As Run-DMC themselves became passe at street-level Boogie Down Productions (featuring KRS–One) and Philadelphia’s Schoolly D pioneered a yet tougher gangster rap; meanwhile the virtuosic Erik B & Rakim created records of minimalist complexity. And then there was Public Enemy. Gradually nurtured by leader Chuck D and Def Jam, by the time of their second album, It Takes A Nation of Millions To Hold Us Back, the incendiary Long Island posse were a phenomenon, making dissonant, aggressive sample collages under firebrand raps, flanked by serious military-garbed bodyguards and rapping court jester and future reality star Flavor Flav. They made a series of great rock albums, and dominated end-of-year best albums lists in the English music press.
The records kept coming and got better and better: De La Soul, A Tribe Called Quest, Big Daddy Kane. On the West Coast something newer and more malevolent was brewing, ready to take gangster rap to the next level. It was hip hop’s Golden Age.
Then along came MC Hammer and ruined it for everybody.