60 Songs That Explain the '90s - “Hard Knock Life”—JAY-Z

Episode Date: February 14, 2024

Rob looks at JAY-Z’s career backwards this week before reaching the rap legend’s 90’s pop crossover hit, “Hard Knock Life.” Along the way, Rob highlights the masterclass that is Funkmaster Flex premiering Kanye West and JAY-Z’a “Otis” on Hot 97 and much more. Later, the Ringer’s Wosny Lambre joins the show to discuss what JAY-Z’s rise to power in New York in the 90s, the importance of Hot 97 to New York rap, and JAY-Z the hyper-capitalist. Host: Rob Harvilla Guest: Wosny Lambre Producers: Jonathan Kermah and Justin Sayles Additional Production Support: Chloe Clark Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

There are a lot of quarterbacks in the NFL draft this year. My name is Danny Kelly, and I host the Ringer NFL Draft Show with Danny Hyfitz, Ben Solac, and Craig Boralbeck. We cover trades, free agency, and the draft, obviously. We'll tell you about everything, including which quarterbacks are good, which quarterbacks are not as good, and which quarterbacks are just Kirk Cousins. Search the Ringer NFL Draft Show on Spotify. His name is Bob Serpentini. He bought his first Chevrolet dealership in Orville, Ohio.

In 1980, at the tender age of 22, he currently owns six Chevy dealerships in Northeast, Ohio, in Orville, Medina, Strongsville, Tallmadge, Westlake, and Willoughby Hills. And for decades, in the greater Cleveland area, Bob has been known and perhaps even loved for his charismatic TV and radio ads, which feature his locally famous catchphrase, American and PROMB, proud of it. America is the greatest land on earth, and we ought to be proud of what we have. I'm proud of America. I'm proud of our people, and I'm going to prove it.

And then, in 1994, Bob received the greatest honor that the owner of a half-dozen Midwestern Chevy dealerships can possibly receive. He was sampled in a hit song by a local industrial rock band. We're American and damn proud of it. Frankly, I'm getting a little ticked off. Go to hell. The band's name is Dink, D-I-N-K, named after the volleyball term, Dink. At least that was my assumption at the time.

Dink are from Kent, Ohio, home of Kent State, of course. The song is called Green Mind. The vibe is extremely and perhaps even excessively 1994. Don't ask me what he's talking about. I got no idea. I suspect that he's got no idea. I love this song. It is 1994 and 9-inch Nails,

led of course by Trent Reznor, who grew up in Pennsylvania but moved to Cleveland. He lived in Cleveland for a while because Cleveland was hot, though Trent is long gone by 1994, having moved to Los Angeles for some reason. Nine-inch Nails are extremely popular amongst the disaffected Midwestern youth. Other scarier and less radio-friendly industrial rock bands

like Skinny Puppy and KMFDM are also extremely popular amongst certain factions of cooler and scarier and way more disaffected Midwestern youth. And here comes Dink, Dink from Kent, Ohio, Dink who walk among us, Dink who have not moved to Los Angeles, Dink who suddenly got what feels to us anyway like a huge bonkers hit song called Green Mind that is in heavy rotation on local alternative. Rock Radio and samples the American and proud of it, Chevy

guy, we see all the time on local TV. I have a memory. A memory I cannot corroborate on YouTube, and that's a drag, but nonetheless, I have a memory of watching 120 minutes on MTV, and Michael Stipe was the guest host, and Michael Stipe said

Dink. He was like, hi, I'm Michael Stipe, I'm hosting 120 minutes this week. We got videos coming out from blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, B, dink and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. He said dink. I heard him. Michael Stipe said dink.

Yes, Dink made it. Bob Serpentini made it. Northeast Ohio made it. We made it. I had no idea what this guy was talking about, but I just assumed it was profound. In 1994, I'm 16 years old and of drastically limited financial means. And I own like 15 CDs tops, including the downward spiral by. nine-inch nails, of course. And yet I buy the Dink CD. I buy Dink's debut album, self-titled,

because I want to support the scene. I might have even gotten the Dink CD at some sort of local discount. Perhaps the Dink CD was only $11 or $12 rather than the usual $17. A bargain. The Dink album cover prominently features a severed fish head. And I looked up that album cover just now and my wife happened to walk in the room. And she, She glanced at my computer screen, saw the severed fish head, laughed so hard she snorted, turned around and walked out. That's the vibe around here. That's the level of respect that my loved ones have for my activities. You know how every 90s blockbuster action movie features a wacky fight scene in a CD industrial rock nightclub?

well, because I owned the Dink CD, I can tell you that the 1995 Michael Bay blockbuster action movie Bad Boys, starring Will Smith and Martin Lawrence, Bad Boys features a huge wacky fight scene in a seedy industrial rock nightclub set to the dink song Angels. We made it. That's the part of Bad Boys where Martin Lawrence gets thrown through the aquarium and Will Smith goes, Fuck, great scene. Dick made it. We made it. We made it from Cleveland Radio to MTV to Hollywood.

I worshipped the radio. Dude, I listened to the radio for somewhere between two and five hours every day in the early to mid-90s. Then I went to college and I got on college radio and suddenly I was the radio. I made it. I'm the one making it now. I miss the days when I worship the radio. am grieving for my radio worshiping years because as it happens when I got out of college and I finally escaped the gravitational pull of northeast Ohio, my first big move was to relocate to the

cultural mecca of central Ohio. Yeah, I moved to Columbus, Ohio. I got my first job at a Columbus Alt Weekly that no longer exists because basically none of them do. Alt Weekly grief is another one of my major grief vectors. I met my wife at that paper, the woman who had one day snort laugh at my activities, and I listened to the radio. I listened to the beloved Columbus Independent Alternative Rock Station, then known as CD 101. Coolest alt-rock radio station ever, in my opinion. CD-101 played rad local rock bands that deserved to be internationally famous. Howland Maggie, Scrawl, New Bomb Turks, the X-rated Cowboys.

Guided by voices are Dayton, obviously, but close enough. Here we have the Rad Columbus rock band Watershed with their 2002 jam. Can't Be Myself. A number one record in my America. Watershed kick-ass, dude. Cheap trick vibes,

power pop vibes, lovable underdog vibes. Watershed signed to a major label in the 90s, and you can read all about that experience. in Watershed Singer and Bassist Joe O'S-Strike's 2012 memoir, Hitless Wonder, A Life in Minor League Rock and Roll. Joe writes about being a Columbus band

suddenly called up to the big leagues and set loose in New York City. He writes, quote, over the years we've noticed that New York bands are disproportionately sticky and ironic, often dressing in tennis outfits or matching speedos

are like Victorian strippers. They want to be faced, But just a case it never happens, they can always take off their costumes, fall back on their Wesleyan diplomas and say, we were just kidding. end quote watershed did not get famous but watershed the pride of columbus ohio we're never kidding and that's what makes them truly great and what makes a should have been number one song like can't be myself extra great and when the rad columbus independent alternative rock station cd101 which had to change its name to cd 102.5 and then later cd 92.9 because they kept having to change radio frequencies because they weren't corporate-owned zillionaires when the station finally known as CD 92.9 finally left the air for good last week on January 31st, 2024,

I mourned and I remain in active mourning because I love the radio and I love that station. They're still broadcasting online. Go listen right now at wwwcdradio.com. But the radio's different, right? The tactile, the physical act of cranking up your radio, preferably in your car, the regional specificity. Knowing a couple thousand people in your city are all listening to the same song right now, the spiritual harmony of that.

CD 101 used to do a year-end countdown of their most requested songs, and for whatever reason, one of the most requested songs in CD 101 history was the 1991 air guitar classic Three Strange Days by School of Fish, a band from Los Angeles, but we forget of them. You made it. I had a beer with a good friend who worked at CD 101 in the early 2000s, and he said, it's possible somebody messed up the spreadsheet and added an extra zero or something, and three strange days didn't actually get that many requests. But I don't want to hear about it. What makes the radio great, what makes the radio essential are these quirks, these idiosyncrasies, these baffling hyper-local preferences for, say, the early 90s, L.A. Rock,

band School of Fish, who have way more of a Jonas Brothers vibe than I remember, but it works for them. It was somehow terribly important to me at the time that I knew that everyone in my city was hitting the rad part of three strange days where he goes, I got to make it through at the exact same time. In fact, I loved this song, and I loved the fact that so many people in my city love this song so much, that I decided to move to California myself, not L.A., though. Oakland. And then things got truly weird and incomprehensibly awesome because I spent the mid-2000s in the Bay Area listening to 106.1 KMEL out of San Francisco, not Oakland, but we forgive them.

Corporate owned, but we forgive them. KMEL, greatest rap station ever born. One of them. It's a tie for number one. In terms of baffling hyperlocal idiosyncrasy, nothing compares to driving around the Bay Area listening to say the 2003 smash hit Hafei by the Federation, the pride of nearby Fairfield, California. And this song, guest starring the Almighty E-40,

Dark Horse Candidate for Greatest Rapper Alive and pride of even more nearby Vallejo, California. Can you imagine cruising down 580 or 680 or 880 or perhaps even 980? Or more likely, can you imagine being stuck in traffic on any of those highways or perhaps on the Bay Bridge itself, an exalting in the tactile physical act of cranking up your car radio and hearing this guy. Now, I was talking, never pull a fucking on a hustle unless I was planning on you, Zwill, Zapi and Quack and Huber Rock Turtle and Choshaw Lelling got the business. What? What did E40 just say?

Amazing. E40 is my favorite rapper. E40 is the greatest rapper alive, one of them. It's a tie for number one. Did I ever personally ghost ride the whip while listening to E40's voice on my car radio in mid-2000s Oakland? No, not me personally. I personally lack the physical and emotional fortitude required to ghost ride the whip. My whip at this time was a Mitsubishi Galant.

Did I instead watch YouTube? compilations of other people, ghost riding the whip, and in one memorable case, ghost riding a lawnmower? Yes, I did. I did do that. That is how I personally supported the scene. Can I confess something to you? Can I confess to you the undisputed highlight of my athletic career in June 2016 before game three of the NBA finals between my beloved Cleveland Cavaliers and E-40s beloved Golden State?

Warriors. I interviewed E-40 and fellow Bay Area rap icon Mista Fab for the ringer. I interviewed them about being celebrity fans of the Warriors who'd won the first two games of the 2016 NBA finals. They were up 2-0 on the Cavaliers. And I'm on the phone with Mista Fab and E-40. And I'm like, well, guys, congratulations. This series is over. This sucks, but the Warriors got this. And they were like, well, let's wait and see. It's LeBron. Anything can happen. And I'm like, dude, no way the Cavs can come back and win this. And then the Warriors took a 3-1 series lead and then blew a 3-1 lead and the Cavs won the title. That was me.

That was all me. I personally propelled the Cavs to the NBA championship by jinxing the Warriors during a phoner with Mista Fab and E-40. Victory! Call me Captain Save-a-M-O-Williams. That is the stupidest thing I ever. I do feel bad for jinxing E-40. for jinxing my favorite rappers' favorite basketball team.

But I don't feel that bad. We did it. I don't dump mainstream. I knock underground. All of the other shit sugar-coated and watered down. I'm from the Bay where we hyphy and go dump from the soil would them rappers be getting their lingo from. In 2006, E40 put out a hit single called

Tell Me When to Go that I heard on KMEL roughly 50,000 times in three months. The delightfully balkers Bay Area rap subgenre known as Hafei. You don't have to be on ecstasy, but it wouldn't hurt, was poised for national blockbuster mainstream success. I read in the San Francisco Chronicle that 2006 was going to be, quote, Oakland's version of the summer of love, end quote. But I screwed up and I missed it, because that's the exact moment when I moved to New York. And in New York City, every summer, there's one song. Everybody listens to one song. Just the

one song playing on a loop on Hot 97, which is tied with KMEL as the number one greatest hip-hop radio station ever born. The same song blasting out of every radio, every open apartment window, and most importantly, every car, every taxi, every bus, every moving vehicle or not moving vehicle in the five boroughs. I mostly hung around in Brooklyn, but I just assume this applies to all the other boroughs. Eight million stories in New York City. all soundtracked by the same rad radio station playing the same rad song. Every summer gets a different song. And in summer 2010, that song was Beamer Benz or Bentley by Lloyd Banks.

And I played you the radio edits because the Beamer Benz or Bentley radio edit is the canonical version. Perfect harmony. Hyper local idiosyncrasy. I love the radio. I miss the radio. I miss CD 101. And I miss KMEL. and I miss Hot 97.

And some days, I miss Hot 97 most of all because I screwed up yet again. And I left town in spring 2011, which means I was not in New York City for summer 2011, which means I was not in town for the greatest 22-minute stretch of radio in world history. On June 20, 2011, Veteran Hot 97-Fourplex, J-Z Kanye West. On June 20th, 2011, veteran hot 97 DJ Funkmaster Flex premiered Otis. A new song from Kanye West and Jay-Z, live on the radio and across the internet. Otis appears on the 2011 Kanye and Jay-Z album, Watch the Throne. Otis is two minutes and 58 seconds long, and it took Funkmaster Flex 22 minutes and five seconds to premiere this song,

due to all the rewinding and explosions and yelling. The end result is, without question, the greatest 22-minute stretch of radio and the history of the medium, and it is also the loudest. That's right, New York City. And for you new rappers, go back to the lab, reassess your whole album and career.

Things are just changed for the summer. The fault is yours. You can find a transcript, of the Funkmaster Flex Otis premiere on Reddit. And according to that transcript, in the 22 minutes and five seconds that it takes Funkmaster Flex to premiere this less than three-minute song,

there are 56 explosions, 12 rewinds, 11 many rewinds, and 10 growls. I don't have time to double-check all that, but it feels like there are way more explosions. Does it not? It feels like there are 800 explosions per second. Per the transcript,

here is what occurs after the 6th 3 wind and between the 16th and 17th explosions. New York City, you listen to me. If you're near a convenience store right now, any type of 24-hour store, going to the store right now and put your hand in the cash register for no reason. And you didn't have to physically be in New York City. You could listen to this live on the internet, right? via hot 97.com, which is still thriving, as is hot 97 itself, as is KMEL.com, as is KMEL itself. But don't you wish you'd physically been in New York City?

Don't you wish you'd been sitting in traffic in a cab on the Brooklyn Bridge with hot 97 blasting from every motionless vehicle as Funkmaster Flex announced the purge because he loves this JZ line so much? Looking like wealth, I'm about to call a paparazzi on myself. He said, looking like wealth. I'm about to call a paparazzi on myself. Does Otis make your personal top 20 list of favorite Jay-Z songs? Does it make your personal top 20 lists of songs involving both Jay-Z and Kanye West in some capacity?

Is I'm about to call the paparazzi on myself like a top 200. JZ line? Maybe, maybe not. Otis, this song is pretty good. Otis, this song is possibly even pretty great. But Funkmaster Flex, tacitly declaring Otis to be the greatest rap song ever made via the song's world premiere amid at least 56 flex bombs, this shit is immortal. No one in human history has ever been more enthusiastic about anything.

Not to be hyperbolic about Funkmaster Flex's high. hyperbole. But if Moses had introduced the Ten Commandments with this degree of charisma and enthusiasm, then there would be no sin. We would all be living in literally paradise. Matter of fact, do you mind? Can I try something? I'm going to try this. This is happening. It's too late to cancel this show. You should have killed me when you had the chance. I'm doing it myself. Kerm, give me flex bombs. You know what it is. Ten Commandments.

World Premier. Two stone tablets. Things that just changed for the summer. Reassess your whole relationship with God. If you're near a cash register right now, don't put your hand in the register and steal the money. That's one of the commandments. Let's go, Mount Sinai.

Thou shalt have no other gods before. me. Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain. Damn. Sorry, I mean, wow. Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy. Honor thy father

and thy mother. Crazy. Honor thy father and thy mother. Thou shalt not kill, commit adultery, steal, bear false witness against thy neighbor or covet thy neighbor's house or wife. Okay. I think that went well. If my mom calls, I'm not home.

I think you take my point. My point is that the radio makes everything sound better. And Funkmaster Flex on the radio makes anything sound like the greatest thing you've ever heard in your life. I've been playing for 30 minutes. Okay? And that's the way it goes down. It's what it is. You see me.

Okay? He's much better at this than I am, obviously. So the Funkmaster Flex Otis premiere. is of lasting international. It is of galactic importance. But this is also, quite simply, a guy on the radio in New York City praising the merits of a rapper

from New York City. Set aside Kanye West for a second because I enjoy doing that. Setting Kanye West aside. That is convenient for me. Set Kanye aside and what we have here is Funkmaster Flex,

a beloved New York City DJ for 30-odd years now, singing the praises of Jay-Z, a beloved New York City rapper for 30-odd years now. We made it. This is delightful hyper-local idiosyncrasy on a biblical scale. There's a lot of reasons for it

because this record right here changes this summer, number one, and number two, this is what I do. In other states, they can't do that. Why? Because they're not as hot as me. I cannot imagine Jay-Z Young anymore. He's in the Willie Nelson zone, you know, where you see a photo of Willie Nelson as a teenager or whatever, and your brain just rejects the image. Your brain is just like, no. I can't imagine Jay Z young. I cannot imagine Jay Z as mortal. I certainly cannot imagine Jay Z as Sean Corey Carter, famously born December 4th, 1969, a mere aspiring rapper from New York City, from Brooklyn, from Bedstuy, from the Marcy Projects.

I am seriously struggling with a scale issue here. You say Jay-Z, and I think Jay-Z the maybe billionaire. Jay-Z, the husband of Beyonce. Jay-Z, the wife-guy, who cheated on his wife, and she made a whole album about it better than any of his albums. Jay-Z, the father of Blue Ivy, and Roomy, and Sir. Jay-Z, the guy I just watched on TV roasting the Grammys while accepting a Grammy. Some of y'all don't belong in the Cat-Eye.

I believe is what he said. Jay Z, the business, comma, man. Not the businessman. Jay Z, the guy on the jet ski. You see that picture? Jay Z on the jet ski with the sunglasses and the red helmet. That's good shit. Go look that up.

Jay Z. the all-timer. Jay-Z the canonized. Jay-Z the sainted. Jay-Z, the legit greatest rapper alive candidate. It's Him or E-40. Tricking my brain into seeing this person as just a guy putting out a song. in the 90s is going to be a process.

But that is the challenge before us today, because Jay-Z was once just a guy putting out a song in the 90s, and no one is more American or more proud of it. My name is Rob Harvilla. This is the 117th episode of 60 songs that explain the 90s, and this week we are discussing JZ's Hard Knock Life,

parentheses ghetto anthem close parentheses from his 1998 album volume two dot dot dot hard knock life do you want to try to do this in reverse i've always wanted to try this we're going in reverse we're going to make like the irishman or the last indiana jones movie we're going to deage him and perhaps deage ourselves o j life i'm not black i'm o j okay the j z album 444 came out in 2017. I do believe that I declared on the internet that 444 was the best album of 2017, and I stand by that. That song is the story of OJ.

The shrewd pause there, the negative space, the wit, the casual audacity of Jay-Z not rapping for two full seconds, the bottomless charisma of that, okay, there are entire respectable decades-long rap careers without a single, moment that electric. I'm the new Jean-Michel. Surrounded by one horse, my whole team, Bao!

Magna Carta Holy Grail. 2013. Jay-Z all rapping about his art collection on an album first available only via a special app on your Samsung phone. Jay-Z rapping this song, Picasso Baby, for six straight hours at Pace Gallery in New York, for a performance art video,

co-starring Marina Abramovich, Judd Apatow, Rosie Perez, Adam Driver, Taraji P. Henson, Alan Cumming, Jim Jarmouche, and on and on and on. I was working at Spin Magazine when this album came out,

and I had to work basically the whole Fourth of July weekend because of Jay-Z. It's possible I'm still pissed about that. You own a few Rothcoes. Congratulations. Keep me out of it. It's a national holiday.

The Blueprint 3, 2009. That's on DOA, Death of Autotune, one of Jay's signature, Get Off My Lawn moments. Death of Autotune is on this record, but you can't win them all. You see this video from early February, this media demonstration of New York City's new automated side-loading garbage truck next to a giant sign reading The Future of Trash is here and soundtracked by Empire State of Mind,

the Jay-Z smash hit single featuring Alicia Keys, Did you hear that very faint applause just now for this garbage truck demonstration set to what is somehow Jay-Z's only number one single is the lead artist? New York, these streets will make you feel brand new. Big lights will inspire you to invent garbage truck technology that Columbus, Ohio has been using for many years now. The thing that automatically dumps your garbage can into the garbage truck, we got that already in Ohio. I'm unclear what the future, what the innovation is here, exactly, unless the innovation is Jay-Z. The future of trash is just playing Jay-Z songs while you pick up the trash. If so, fair enough. That's a good idea. God bless. Buy another Rothko with that check, Jay.

This is the ignorant shit you like. Nicka fuck shit ass bitch, trick precise. Come on. I got that ignorant shit you love. Nicker puff shit, money, home booth and drugs. American Gangster 2007. Now we're talking. Ignorant shit. The Isley Brothers sample. The sumptuousness. The ignorance. This song does make my personal top 20 list of best Jay-Z songs. This shit might make my top three.

Jay-Z rapping about how smart he is. Now he's so smart that sometimes he wraps about lowest common denominator shit because that's the smart play. This is my favorite Jay-Z mode. explanatory jZ meta jZ that sounds sarcastic but I'm serious I love the plus in fuck shit ass bitch trick plus ice

I don't know why but I love that plus excuse my language if my mom calls again I still ain't home 30's the new 20 nigga I'm so hot still better bra better automobile better yard better 100 mil

they buy the songs and I probably start another train kingdom come 2006. I forgot he literally rapped 30 is the new 20 on this record on a song called 30 something when he was almost 40. I was closing it on 30 myself when this record came out and I remember

playing this song and thinking, oh no. My true music list is hate me because the industry ain't make me hustlers and boosts embrace me and the music I'd be making. I dumbed down for my audience to double my dollars. They criticize me for it yet they all yell holler. The Black album is my favorite, though. I've always felt vaguely corny for saying that,

but I'm through apologizing. Dirt off your shoulder, 99 problems. What more can I say? Come on. And this one, too, moment of clarity. This is where meta-J-Z peaks. I dumbed down for my audience to double my dollars is a wild thing to say out loud. Even on your ostensible retirement album.

Jay-Z talks a lot about how he's so smart. and he's such a technically superior rapper that he has to hide it from us because if he didn't he wouldn't be as successful and we wouldn't be able to handle it. According to Jay-Z, if Jay-Z ever went full Jay-Z on us, it would be the audio equivalent of staring at the sun.

Sometimes he wraps stuff like 30 is the new 20 for your own protection. The author and academic Michael Eric Dyson wrote a great book, Jay-Z, Made in America, came out in 2019, and Michael writes, quote, Jay-Z realizes that the knock on him is that he treads water at the shallow end of the pool. In order to get his audience to at least hear what he has to say

and to discover how well he can handle the deep end, he has to first get them into the water, that is, sell records. By first advertising himself as an accessible pop culture figure and not a daunting thinker, Jay can invite his listeners into the waters of reflection, as an intellectual lifeguard of sorts with the promise that they won't get in over their head. End quote.

So here's Jay-Z coaxing us into the water by yelling, holla. The Blueprint 2. The Gift and the Curse. 2002. O'3, Bonnie and Clyde. Hearing Jay-Z and Beyonce refer to themselves as boyfriend, girlfriend, ah, that's nice. That's romantic.

Is it evidence even here, even this early, even on this song that she's going to eclipse him artistically? It might already be evident here. The blueprint, too long. It's a double album. This is the Jay-Z record so long that if you listen to it at the pool, Jay-Z, the lifeguard, has to blow his whistle and call for a rest period halfway through it. You see that other photo of Jay-Z and Beyonce jumping off a boat into the ocean? and Jay-Z has taken a very strange belly-flop-type angle.

Also a great candid Jay-Z photo. Think about that photo the next time you hear Jay-Z rap the word, motherfuckers. Motherfuckers say that I'm foolish. You only talk about Jews, do you, fools? Listen to music or do you just skim through it? See, I'm influenced by the ghetto you ruined. The same dude you gave nothing.

I made something doing. 2001. Now we're talking. Renegade, produced by and famously co-starring Eminem. Eminem produced Moment of Clarity, too. Great rapport of these two. I'm tempted to request a full-length Watch the Throne type Jay-Z and Eminem album,

but we'd really need an intellectual lifeguard for that shit. The same dude you gave nothing, I made something doing. That's an even better Jay-Z line that I'm about to call the paparazzi on myself. Holy shit. I honestly forgot how many albums Jay-Z had when I committed to this bit.

This is pretty exhausting even if you leave out R. Kelly and Lincoln Park. Almost there. My life is getting too wild. I need to bring some sort of calm to it. About the losing, voices screaming, don't do it. Just like 93, 94.

About the year that big and Mac drop. The Elmatic Rock. The Dynasty, colon, Rock La Familia, 2000, this can't be life. Kanye West's first time producing Jay-Z. The Scarface verse on this can't be life. That's what you want.

But it took us this long, going and reversed, even get to Jay-Z, even credibly reminiscing about a moment when Jay-Z might have been mortal and vulnerable and not yet the focal point

of hip-hop. The word failure just does not sound right coming out of this person's mouth. But that's what makes the song work. That's what makes the song cry. I'm still stretching on the block, But even then, I'm gonna be a failure

Surrounded by thubs, drugs, and drug paraphernalia. But even then, he rhymes failure with drug paraphernalia, and that's why he can never be a failure. Almost there. We can do this. We just need a jolt of energy.

We need a song-length funkmaster flex bomb. We need a double our dollars. You know what we need? We need big pimping. You know why. Love them, fuck them, leave them, because I don't fucking need them. Take them out the hood.

looking good, but I don't fucking feed them. Volume 3, Life and Times of S. Carter, 1999. There are rappers, great rappers, canonical rappers, Pantheon rappers, who only reach their full potential if you squint your ears and forget the literal words they're saying. The words are immaterial, only the rhythm, the percussion matters. Jay-Z is not one of those rappers, but Big Pimpin is not a

song that requires lyrical dexterity. This is extra ignorant shit. And it's maybe not a coincidence that this is where he quadrupled his dollars. Technically big pimping is the word, bitch. Technically, big pimping is the 90s. But only technically. This record, volume three came out on December 28, 1999. That is a wild. That is a wild. release date, first of all, even before you factor in the potential Y2K element. But your friends here at 60 songs that explain the 90s are taking the position that an album that came out four days before the literal end of the 90s is not really the 90s. We stand by that decision. Have you read Jay Z's book about Jay Z? Decoded from 2010. He wrote it with Dream Hampton. It's half memoir

and half self-genious lyrical annotations. Decoded is fantastic, man. In the big pimp in entry, Jay-Z says, quote, the irony here is that like most pimps who throw on the pimp act, I'd eventually give my heart to a woman, end quote. Aw, that's romantic. Jay-Z also very politely points us toward these lines, in which we learn that Jay-Z can sneak a little poignant darkness,

even into his most delightfully ignorant shit. If the man finds out it'll land me in jail for life. In this book Decoded, JZ writes, quote, even in a song about pushing pleasure to the limit, I can't help but make the connection between the big pimping and the work that makes it possible, which takes us from the cars, women in the alcohol, the sun, the mansion, and carnival, and brings us back to the streets,

the corner of the block, the coke, and the potential for a long prison bid hanging over me like a cloud, the recklessness of the pleasure, the selfish craziness of pimping matches the recklessness of the work, end quote. Jay-Z, then as now, is constantly at pains to remind us that he used to deal drugs. Not in a self-congratulatory, triumphant way, or at least Jay is not as triumphant about it as some other pantheon rappers, we could mention. Push-a-T, for example. Yes, Jay-Z doesn't sound as self-congratulatory as push-a-tie sounds when push-a-tie is reminding us that he used to deal drugs. Used to. Okay, push-a-tie, then as now raps like he's dealing drugs literally while rapping about dealing drugs. You know Mitch Hedberg, the great stand-up comedian. I love Mitch Hedberg, and I love push a T also. And push a T

always struck me as a very slight variation on a classic Mitch Hedberg line. I used to deal drugs. I still do, but I used to, too. But Jay-Z's music, then as now, is escapist. It is pure escapism. It's not escapist for you, the listener, the customer. J-Z's music is escapist for Jay-Z. What's the line? The famous Watch the Throne line. If you escaped what I escaped, you'd be in Paris getting fucked up to. Actually, can I tell you

my least favorite J-Z line ever? It's from 2011. It's from Watch the Throne. It's from a Watch the Throne bonus track called Illest Motherfucker Alive. Hit the deck. Bosquiat's. war halls serving as my muses my house like a museum so i see him when i'm peeing then he rhymes that with

european oh my god what is the exact opposite of a funkmaster flex bomb like a funkmaster flex bomb but it's a giant majestic farting sound like but if you are invested in this person if you buy into the complete decades long jzy arc from mere mortal to maybe billionaire rap deity, you need that line too. You need Jay-Z polluting your head with the image of Jay-Z staring at priceless works of art while he takes a leak. Jay-Z's worst lines, his growners need to evolve also because Jay-Z's personal arc is Jay-Z's great subject. Every song Jay-Z is ever released, in essence, is about the increasingly vast distance between where he used to be and where he is now.

Jay-Z song where the words don't have to matter. The words do matter, but they don't got to. The words are just a bonus. The rhythm, the percussion, the swagger is all you really need. 1998, this is Jay-Z's third album. Hard Knock Life is, to this day, Jay-Z's best-selling album, six million copies sold in the United States alone. This is simultaneously Jay-Z's breakthrough and commercial peak. And he will not pretend to be conflicted about this. In Decoded, he writes, quote, it's a recurring story in hip hop, the tension between art and commerce. Hip hop is too important as a tool of expression to just be reduced to a commercial product. But what some people call commercializing really means is that lots of people buy and listen to your records.

That was always the point to me. After my first record got on the radio and on BET, it was wild being at home, feeding my fish, and suddenly seeing myself on TV. Sidebar, the image of Jay-Z feeding his fish is tremendously charming to me. Jay-Z very carefully sprinkling the... Not too much. Jay-Z with a little net lovingly scooping out the aquarium crud, straining the little castle.

I vastly prefer this image to the Boskiats in Jay-Z's bathroom image. Anyway, he goes on, quote, but it was satisfying. hearing it on the radio is even better. There may be some artists who don't believe in radio, especially now, because the radio business is such a shady racket, but radio love puts you in the hood for real. I care if regular people, sisters on their way to work, dudes rolling around in their cars, hear my shit, end quote.

So we'd gotten a little radio and BET play by the time he got to this third album. But here's where Jay-Z starts racking, checking up top 20 singles. And the magic trick of Hard Knock Life is watching him figure out how delightfully ignorant he can make his shit while still making it sound charming.

Let's use the radio edit. Let's use the radio edit. Shall we? a remarkable amount of delightfully ignorant shit on hard knock life. This was produced by Mark the 45 king, the New York City legend who also came up with a loop for Eminem's stand, the Dido loop. Mark the 45 king passed away in October 2023. He was 62 years old and rad as hell. My favorite thing about hard knock life is the baseline, the minimalism, the frequent absence of a baseline. It's not quite prints, not putting a

baseline and when doves cry at all, but the best moments on hard knock life make as little noise as possible and put as little distance as possible between you and Jay-Z and between who Jay-Z used to be and who he is rapidly becoming.

Do you hold your breath involuntarily subconsciously the baseline drops out for a long stretch there? I do. These are commercial instincts, pop instincts that do not require compromise, nor does Jay-Z even have to change what he's saying or how he's saying it, because what makes Hard Knock Life his true breakthrough is the audacity of the chorus, right? The quite unexpected sample that drives the chorus, coupled with Jay-Z's refusal to really acknowledge the audacity of the chorus at all. And though,

Thus, the second verse ends thus. I'm type real when my situation ain't improving. I'm trying to murder everything moving. The Annie sample. The song, It's the Hard Knock Life from the Annie musical that premiered in 1976. So Mark the 45 King comes up with that loop on his own. And he passes a copy to the DJ and rapper Kid Capri. And then Jay-Z is on tour in 1997 with that.

Puff Daddy. Jay is an opener on Puff's No Way Out tour, and Kid Capri is DJing. And now here's Kid Capri talking to Grantland, actually, in 2014. Kid Capri says, quote, when I came out for my second set of the night on the No Way Out tour, I would start with the instrumental version of Hard Knock Life. Fans were running up saying, how did you get the Annie song behind the drums? It was mostly white people coming up to me. I knew from the reaction. I was getting that it was really working. By the third or fourth show, Jay-Z rolled up and asked me

where I got that from. End quote. Kit Capri hooks Jay-Z up with Mark the 45 King and the rest is history. It was mostly white people coming up to me. Amazing. I love that detail very much. But what makes this song Jay's breakthrough

is not just the Annie sample, but the dissonance of ramming the line. I'm trying to murder everything moving directly into the. sample. Indecoded, JZ writes about the similarity between Empire state of mind and hard-knock life. He writes, quote, when I first heard the track for Empire, I was sure it would be a hit. It was gorgeous. My instinct was to dirty it up, to tell stories of the city's gritty side, to use stories about hustling and getting hustled, to add tension to the soaring beauty of the chorus. The same thing happened with another big hit, Hard Knock Life.

The chorus is a sweet-sounding children's song, but the lyrics are adult, violent and real. Knowing how to complicate a simple song without losing its basic appeal is one of the keys to good songwriting. End quote. Hard Knock Life is not Jay-Z's biggest or best song, but it's one of his most important. Because it's his big crossover moment, and also because it's one of his one, one of his simplest songs, and it is truly thrilling to hear how hard he works to also make it one of his most complicated. We got this far, doing the whole JZ catalog backward. We might as well finish it off, eh?

I'm from a place where the church is the flaky is, and niggas been praying to God so long that they're atheist, where you can't put your vest away and say you with it tomorrow, because the big after we'll be saying, damn, I was just with him yesterday. In My Lifetime, Volume 1, Best Song is called Where I'm From. This is Jay-Z's second album. Where he's from is also where he still is. But the real reason I can't imagine Jay-Z Young is because even on his earliest records, in part because he was already in his late 20s and he'd already been around a little bit

and seen some of his friends knocked around by the music business a little bit. I don't hear a learning curve. I don't hear the usual early stumbles. I don't hear untapped potential. I just hear him. I hear him the way I've heard him on every record he's put out. I hear the near billionaire, the wife guy, the art appreciator,

the business comma man. Even before the true radio hits start coming, my brain just fills in the Funkmaster flex bombs. You don't need to be told to put your hand in the cash register for no reason. That's just what Jay-Z's voice makes you do. Jay-Z's voice can make you want to rob someone, even when it's a Jay-Z song about Jay-Z robbing you. You draw, better be Picasso, you know the best, because if this is not so, God bless you. Ninety-six, reasonable doubt.

Jay-Z's debut album. That song's called Friend or Foe. What makes this song great is how friendly he sounds. Jay-Z was already in his late 20. when A Reasonable Doubt came out. He has never been young. He wasn't truly famous yet, but forget what I said earlier. He has never not been truly famous.

It is fine if you prefer J.Z younger. It is fine if you prefer the very early J.Z song where he says, If you draw, better be Picasso, to the much more recent JZ song about his art collection. That is literally called Picasso Baby. Just know that those two songs were made by the same guy. from the same place, doing the same thing. You know what it is, and you know what it has always been.

We are thrilled to be joined today by Wozny Lambrei, senior staff writer at The Ringer. Find him on the group chat show as part of the Ringer's NBA squad. Was, thank you so much for being here. It's an honor to be here, Rob. I've told you a trillion times, man. This is to me the best show, the best podcast that we do at the time. the company. I swear to God. I listen to every episode. I know probably 20% of the bands you

talk about and I listen to every episode to learn. It's part of my cultural literacy. I spent so much time listening to Jay-Z and Beanie Siegel as a kid. You know, I never listened to a lot of Google dolls, you know, if we're being honest here. That's so thank you for you for your candor. Of course. It's a huge honor to talk to you. Was, can you talk to me

about growing up in the 90s with Funkmaster Flex? You know, funkmaster Flex is your local DJ. I am so jealous of you. It's crazy to think about because I've actually talked to people in the past

about the cultural primacy of Hot 97. Yeah. When you grow up in New York City. I'm 37 years old. So by the time I'm seven, eight years old, funk flex is already a god in New York City hip hop. And Hot 97 is like, it's the focal point, right? Like, you can't even imagine how important Hot 97 is to every single hip hop consumer in New York City. Now, you know, and I think we'll get into it as later.

Like, if you were part of the, what I derisively called the backpack contingent, you might have a different relationship with Hot 97. But FunkFlex specifically, he was essentially the authority on what music was important in New York City. And in, you know, 94, 95, 96, I would say the entire 90s, it was him. He was the authority on New York City relevance as far as hip hop was concerned. and High 97 was just in the middle of all of that. Yeah.

When I think of him, I think of Jay-Z immediately, right? And that's because of Otis, first of all. But, like, has he ever been anywhere near as enthusiastic about anybody else? So, man, the funny thing is I think Otis is one of the last times Funk Flex could actually break a record, right? Right. Because by that time, it's like 2010, 2011. Yeah. It's kind of over for the idea that songs are going to break on radio, right?

We're finding them three trillion different other ways on the internet. But Otis is the last time he's done that. But I've always told people the two most bombed on records of my life are, Hate Me Now by Nas and Jigga, What's My Name, by Jay-Z? Right. His solo song on the Rough Rider's compilation album. Yeah. And so, yeah, FunkFlex would literally,

that bomb dropped him talking over the beat, like he's a super villain, and, you know, he's dissing all of his enemies. Yes, yes. You know, he's praising the people that are on his team. And it's just like, he's just like the Pied Piper of New York City hip-hop. But yeah, Otis was like the last. time he could do that. But if your song wasn't getting that

oldest treatment, it almost didn't count as a number one in New York City. You know what I mean? Yeah. When Magna Carta came out, like a couple years later, it was 2013. I remember Funkflex premiering that, right? But it wasn't the same. Like, you could tell everyone was straining a little bit to make it a truly great moment, but it just wasn't happening. Well, Rob, you got to understand, right? Like, as a kid growing up in Brooklyn and Queens, the first thing you do when you wake up in the morning

is turn on hot 97. As soon as you get home from school, you turn on hot 97. Like, this thing was so ubiquitous and important. Every car is playing this station. Every, you know, everywhere you go, this thing is playing. If I got home and say, and this is a distinct memory of mine, I got home, I must have been like a sophomore in high school. So this would have been around 2002, 2003 maybe.

And I hear Beanie Siegel, the Young Guns, you know, Freeway. I hear their voices on the radio and they're all yelling at Funkmaster Flex. And I can remember immediately getting on my phone to call. one of my best friends a day who lived up the block for me. And I'm like, yo, the Rockefeller guys on the radio right now, you need to turn this on right now. And for the next hour, they proceeded to like curse on the radio. They freestyle. They yelled at flex.

They told them don't turn the beat all. It was chaos. But these are the kinds of sort of electric moments that could only happen on Hot 97. So I was going to ask, like, why, what makes Hot 9? 97 so mythic. It's not just that it's a radio station in New York City. And is it that chaos and like the enthusiasm, you know, that Funkflex had? It's a chaos, but it's also, they just projected this air of authority, that they were the authority on what counted for important rap music in New York City. And so the first time you heard, so, and there was tears to this, right,

DJ Clue, who's like so many other Power 105 employees, which is now the quote unquote rival radio station of Hot 97 in New York City, DJ Clue started out at Hot 97 as a radio entity. And he had all these mixtapes that are infamous in New York City for breaking artists and, you know, putting out the very newest underground music of mainstream artists. But he had this radio show called, what was it called Monday Night Mix Tate? I forget the name. a Clues radio show, but it was Monday nights once a week, and he would play basically underground

new music and some of the newer stuff that you, exclusives is what he called it, that you couldn't hear from other artists. And that's how a bunch of new artists got broken. They got to go up to Clues Monday Night show and either freestyle to, you know, a prominent rap beat, drop, you know, one of their own new songs. It was like that stamp of approval, but that's where you have to go. that's how you got an audience with people. I guess now, you know, and shouts to all the people at Spotify, it's like rap caviar or whatever, right? Which is happening on a national and global scale.

But back in the days, Hot 97 is where you had to break an artist where maybe, you know, DJ enough or Cipher Sounds would play some new artist during their mix show during a, you know, a commercial free hour on Hot 97. Commercial free. Awesome. I think enough used to do the five o'clock free ride where he would play for an hour. He would play the hottest stuff in the streets, but he would also play new, up and coming, a little bit more underground music as well.

It was just the hub. It's just like where everybody understood they had to go to figure out who was on top and who was next up. Right. It's such a beautiful image. You as a teenager in the early 2000s calling your friend to, tell them to turn on the radio. That is just so, that's such a heartwarming notion to me. That's so beautiful.

Do you remember hearing, you know, an early time you heard Jay-Z on the radio? Yeah, I remember, man, I have two distinct memories of my first encounter with Jay-Z. One was the Ain't No Nigger video, which was, I guess, probably his first, like, sort of, quote-unquote hit, if you will. It was like the first song that was moving throughout New York City was getting consistent spins. And I remember being home, watching it on either video music box or there was this video show called Flavor Videos, which came on on public access. I think it was like Channel 55. Bobby Simmons was the host of this video show. So it was either him.

Could have been The Box. Could have been any number of video showing channels that were. wasn't cable. That wasn't B.T. That wasn't MTV. Because I don't think we had cable in 1996 at the house. So I remember the video came on and my cousin Jerry who would, you know, who would come in my house periodically throughout the week because he lived like two blocks from me. And him and my mom were like best friends at the time. And the ain't no nigger video came on. He was like, this is my shit. And, you know, in 1996 in Brooklyn, New York, like Jay-Z was a nothing. He was a nobody, okay?

In 1996 at that time, we were obsessed with Biggie Smalls. And it wasn't even a question, Rob. There wasn't even an idea that other rappers in New York mattered in a significant way. Not in my neighborhood anyway. It was Biggie Smalls or nothing. And so I'm hearing my cousin, like, I'm like, all right, whatever, this is cool. And sort of moving on with my day. And then another memory that I have is,

Angie Martinez, another, she's at Power 105 now, but started at Hot 97. She had her afternoon show, and she had this thing called Battle of the Beats, where she would play, you know, two underground songs, and the audience would vote on which song would win. And I think if you won three or four times in a row, you would be crowned the champion of Battle of the Beats. And Jay-Z was on Battle of the Beats. And I think, I'm pretty sure it was feeling it off a reasonable doubt. And that had one battle of the beats. I was like, oh, this Jay-Z guy.

He's doing good. Like, whatever. It was a nice little story at the time, bro. Like, Jay-Z was a nice little story. Okay. You did a great episode of The Watch a couple years back talking to Chris Ryan, you know, about a lot of this stuff. And you talked about the void in New York after Biggie died, you know, and how even someone like, Naz, who everyone loved, like, Nas didn't want the commercial.

He didn't have the commercial instincts or want to do that. Can you talk about how Jay-Z came slowly to sort of fill that role and how Jay-Z became more than just a nice little local story? So, by the way, and it was slowly, okay? Right. He dropped reasonable doubt, which, don't let anybody lie to you. Nobody was there. The album went gold in, like, 2003. Like, nobody bought this guy's album.

Okay. There were people who were smart enough to know about it. And I think most of those people were very adjacent to street life and drug dealing. And those people knew they could get the references. They knew exactly what he was talking about. They knew that it was authentic in the way that he spoke about it. And those people were there. But for the most part, it was ignored.

1997, the very next year, he drops volume one in my lifetime, and it has an obvious bad boy, shiny suit influence. It's obvious what he's trying to do. And this album is more successful. It goes platinum. But again, Jay-Z's like, he's like a nice New York City rapper. He's not some God yet. And like, Puff is on the album. Kim is on the album.

them. There's a bunch of hitmen producing on it. You know, he even does a shiny suit video infamously for Sunshine, which for the record, at the time, 10-year-old me thought it was fire. Love that video. Thank you for admitting that. To this day. And whatever, it kind of landed kind of flatly because I think people could sort of sense the cynicism in it.

Like, okay, like, we get it. You're trying to do the BIG thing. and I think people were like whatever. And then I'm pretty sure Can I Getta came out that would have been like the summer of 1998 maybe even a little bit before that if I'm getting my times wrong, forgive me.

And that was the first bona fide JZ smash. It was a smash, right? And that wasn't even meant for his album. It was on the Nutty Professor soundtrack. Of course. It was. Of course, because of course, Chris Tucker was in the video, I believe. It was like this big deal.

That was the first Jay-Z, like, oh, okay. And J-Rules in it. And, of course, a lot of people don't remember this. A million. A Rockefeller artist was in it. And that was a smashing. And, you know, Hard Knock life comes out. And that just sort of takes over the radio, takes over the world.

He drops volume two. That goes five, six times platinum. He goes on a Hard Knock Life tour, which is like the first bona fide rap arena tour in years. And Jay-Z, as we know him, is born. Now, when you listen back, what is it about that volume two that's different, that that elevates him? Because is it that he's not talking in code, you know, the way he was on reasonable doubt? You know, it's what is it about this record that makes it his breakthrough? Just the songs are that good, or is there some change in approach that's less cynical, as you said?

I think, but I think it's both. I think it's still pretty cynical because even on hard-knock life, and I told myself I wouldn't come on here and wrap a bunch of Jay-Z lyrics, but it's hard to explain what he's doing without getting it to the lyrics. But like, when he says, I gave you prophecy on my first joint, y'all all lame, doubt didn't really appreciate it until the second one came out, which is him dissing his own album, by the way. But he's saying like, he switched his approach.

He definitely, it's more accessible the way that he's rapping and the content that he's rapping about. And I think the music is definitely just more pop. Even the anti-sample, which he found, not that he found, but it was his idea. And he brought it to S&S, I believe. And he, you know, he got that beat done. And it was just this idea of just like, all right, we're going to try to be mainstream. But it still had artistic integrity.

Don't get it twisted. But I do think part of it was him becoming more accessible. And I think it was him just being older, being wiser about the business and how it worked and how your marketing machine works and how, you know, how you position. your music within the market. I think he was just smarter by the time volume two rolled around. And again, the void still existed

in New York for a mainstream obviously New York artists to fill it. And I think he did that shit. It's an underrated part of this, as you say, he was in his late 20s, possibly even around 30, you know, in this time. You know, he's not that late a bloomer,

but he's just more experienced enough for that to really matter. in terms of being a little shrewder about how to do this. And he's, and the whole time, people have to remember that Jay-Z is very conscious of the conversation about around hip-hop in New York, right? Because even, even on volume one, on where I'm from, which is personally my favorite Jay-Z song of all time,

it's the song that I always go back to. It's the song that I think to me is Jay's, greatest expression of how truly singular he is as an artist. And he's consciously, he possesses himself with Nas and Biggie, where he said in his neighborhood, people argue all day about who's the best MCs, Biggie JZ, and Nas. We're like, look, by 1996, Nas is like, he's basically already a rap deity even in 1997, excuse me.

He had already dropped Illmatic at fucking 17 or 18 or whatever the hell he was. He's like a prodigy. And in everybody's mind, he's cemented as a golden child and hip-hop. And, of course, Biggie is Biggie. You know, he's like our greatest expression of commercial New York City hip-hop that we had ever produced. Right. And Jay-Zan 97, who had, you know, went gold with a little album. and he's on his sophomore project positioning himself with those two guys.

Like the audacity of that. Yeah. Right. Let's you know that this is a guy who is really striving and he's trying and he's putting it together in such a way to make sure that he's positioned that way. And so, yeah, it was almost a fake it till you make it line. And not to say that as far as artistry and skill, like, you know, if we can look back, like I would say that Hove is with anybody in 19. 1997 that New York had ever produced. But to say that with the little bit of accomplishments that he had was insane.

Yeah. All right. So let's talk about the backpack contingent then, you know, about the way, the reaction to him, both the commercial reaction, you know, and the reaction within rap music. You know, where rappers slow to accept him, you know, the technical prowess that he had. It's so funny, like, looking back at this stuff. because I was too young to understand this conversation was happening in the moment. I didn't learn about these conversations until shit like okay player and, you know, the not right

comment section and, you know, basically the internet. The blog era. Yeah. The blogs or whatever. Like, you, I didn't know message board culture. Like, I didn't know that there was a contingent of people who didn't think Biggie Smalls was fire from day one. that just accepted that this guy was the best ever?

Like, the idea that this was a thought sort of floored me when I encountered it. You know, I can think back to 2008 when Barack Obama got elected, right? And I'm in my little bubble in New York. And, you know, by that time, I'm like two years out of being at Penn State. And, you know, I'm friends with all these white boys

from central Pennsylvania and all these white chicks from central Pennsylvania. And in my mind, I'm thinking, everybody thinks this is one of the greatest things that's ever happened. And go on my Facebook feed and see that. Like, not everybody's happy about the first black president. It wasn't crazy. Like, that was the feeling I got when I learned about the discourse.

But to explain to people, it was essentially this idea that hip hop was fracturing. Right. And it definitely ratcheted. That conversation started ratcheting up around bad boy. and what Puff was doing with his artists. And this idea that it was just literally all about commercialism, excess, materialism. And people felt like there was factions. The backpackers felt like there was quote unquote real hip hop,

which is what Nas was doing when he wasn't, you know, pretending to be a drug dealer on it was written, which is what gangstar was doing, which is what Doom was doing, which is what, you know, go on and on and on and on and on. on with that underground scene. And then there was what everybody else was doing, i.e. the biggies, i.e. the JZ's.

And the backpackers felt like, Jay-Z was just walking into that bad boy, shiny suit, mace, excess, substanceless lane. And so they viewed him skeptically. And it's like, oh, he's talking about drug dealing. Oh, how creative. How different. Oh, he's talking about his benzis.

and Rolexes, oh, how creative. And so they viewed him with suspicion. And I think that, I think that strain of people in New York viewed him with that suspicion basically up until he dropped the blueprint, which was essentially Jay-Z's artistic, you know, this is my art album. I'm doing the soul samples.

I'm doing like, I'm getting with some credible hip-hop producers and Just Blaze and Binkdog and obviously end up becoming Kanye West. And I think that's when the backpackers finally gave it to Jay-Z and was like, you know what? This guy isn't so bad after all. I really love your internet rap fan voice. You've really nailed the tone of that. Well, Rob, and for me, because you have to think about it, for me, for me, as a kid who

basically comes of age and hip hop at the dawn of B-I-G, like juicy. I'm freaking seven, eight years old when this stuff comes out. And it just takes over my mind. And it's just like, this is all I care about. Right. And ready to die, you know, my brother who's 11 years older than me, we had that album in the house. We'd never stop playing this album.

You know, of course, Biggie dies. And it's this great tragedy. and life after death. And I'm just like, this guy is a fucking genius. And to understand that there were people in real time who thought Biggie Smalls

was making bullshit music, can you imagine that, Rob? Like, that's a thing that the backpackers were saying that this guy, the guy who made everyday struggle, suicide thoughts, suicidal thoughts,

or even juicy for that matter, was making frivolous, bullshit music. That's literally what they were thinking at the time. And so, you know, I grew up to just look at backpackers in a, you know, a little in a sort of dismissive way.

It's just like, you motherfucker thought B.I.G. was whack. This is crazy. You have talked about how, you know, the hyper-capitalist J-Z mode did get a little too much for you, you know, eventually. You know, what is sort of the evolution

of your fandom as we pass, you know, As we go through several blueprints, you know, as we had watched the throne. Like, where are you with him now? How did he evolve for you? So, so much of Jay-Z fandom felt like rooting for a team because they constructed the marketing of Rockefeller Records and their roster of artists that it was a team. It was no different than rooting for Alabama football or the New York Knicks. It's like, you're a Rockefeller soldier, you know, and you go out, you take the

marching orders and whenever some idiot on your block tries to tell you that Nas is more pure and a way better MC and more original, you are armed with the knowledge and the truth that Jay-Z is your one true king. You know, he's the God MC. He's, you know, whatever. And so for so long, I was just so Rockefeller-pilled that you couldn't tell me anything about Jay-Z. Like, Jay-Z's wins were my wins.

You know, every time he broke a record, every time he sold Rockware to the Russians for $200 million, every time he signed his live nation deal. Every time he did something, it felt like a personal win for the JZ Army, right, for the Rockefeller Army. And, you know, you get a little bit older and a little bit wiser, and you begin to have different sort of politics. and I start to look at not just what Jay-Z does, but just how the black bourgeoisie operates in general and become a little more skeptical by the day. Right?

In the way that these prominent black people will weaponize blackness to their own ends, right? And manipulate so many of the black mass, into thinking that their individual wins are our collective wins. Right. Right. And this idea of consumption as freedom.

And Jay-Z, my God, has he taken this to the fucking... Yeah. Teeth level. And I think the most... We have really lost in. I probably said this on air trillion times and I will never stop saying this is when he starts a quote unquote beef

with the people that make Christal the champagne. Right. Because the CEO goes on an interview and says, you know, I'd rather these hip-hop niggas stop touching my shit. Yeah. I'd rather than stop popping it in my videos. I'd rather, like, I'd love to see this come to an end, right? That's a great, that's a great voice for the CEO of Crystal.

Also, you really nailed that one. Jay Z talks about this in his book, about. Yes. And Jay-Z was taking it back. He was like, yeah, we made y'all a lot of money. This is bullshit. So he comes out.

He dissed him. I think the first time he dissed him was on, he said, I thought dude's remarks was rude, okay, so I moved on to Dom and Crug Rose. All right, cool. Jay-Z's no longer drinking Cristale. He's drinking Don Perri-on and Krug-Rose. Never mind that.

can afford this shit, Rob. Never mind that nobody should give a fuck. Yeah. About what champagne Jay-Z would prefer, but whatever, here we are. Here we are.

And so then he takes the next extra step, Rob, where he's like, not only am I not drinking crystal, I'm drinking his shit called Aces Spade now. So he's got the product to replace

crystal. And then we find, out that Asa Spade is his fucking champagne. That's this trash champagne anyway. It's bullshit. But it's like... It's good enough. It's good enough.

He's... Not only is he thinking like, all right, I'm a discristal on a record. Oh, but I'm going to have a replacement. And it's going to be my shit. It's a marketing opportunity. And the people are now going to be empowered to buy my shit, make me richer, and make Blue Ivy's trust fun fatter. And I'm going to sell that to people as a form of black freedom and black liberation.

The enrichment of Jay-Z and his fucking spout pain, right? And so that's when, that was the moment where I started to become a bit disillusioned by hyper-capitalist Jay-Z, which by the way was there from the beginning. He never hit it. It was part of his ethos. We all ate it up. But as I got older, I start to look at it a little bit more, like, this is kind of gross. Right. You didn't personally get a cut when he sold Rockaware to the Russians. No, I didn't get a piece. You did not get a check.

I think you deserved one. I don't think any of the male men, black school teachers, black lunch ladies. I don't think any of the black social workers of America got a cut, you know, of the NFL deal. but, you know, we're breaking boundaries even still, Rob. Sure. Did you see him at the Grammys? I sure did.

Yeah. What do you make of like Jay-Z, the elder statesman, you know, telling it how it is, you know, dissing the Grammys on the Grammy's stage, you know, it's, what do you think of his representation now? It's more of the same bullshit to me. for me. The idea

this is like 10 reasons why it's bullshit. The idea that Beyonce can be made into some underdog of any kind is absurd. Like the recognition of her greatness by

any objective measure is so full and complete besides this frivolous. Grammy of the Year Award is so unmistakable. Like there's no barriers to Beyonce's greatness. There's no glass ceiling. There's no, bro, Beyonce, her victory is total and complete and final.

Yeah. Beyonce has won and deservedly like she is a singular just beast. But the idea that Jay-Z is going to go up there and make Beyonce an underdog. And by the way, the thing that goes unsaid is that she hasn't won this Grammy because she's black, which is probably true, by the way. But again, like my blackness is now being used to weaponize me and being pointed towards the Grammy Committee for not recognizing lemonade. Yeah. This is what is supposed to count for black politics and revolutionary thought.

in 2020. I was just like, Jay-Z, come on. And more importantly, Rob, it's like, it's the Grammys who have so thoroughly discredited themselves

year after year after year. From the onset, right, yeah. Year after year, like, how many times do you have to give Macklemore the rap Grammy over Kendrick? It was just once, but that was enough. Or give some jazz pianists

who nobody's, ever heard of the record of the year? How many times in a road do they have to do this to discredit themselves before Jay-Z has to stop coming up there? By the way, you showed up

in your best suit to accept their fucking humanitarian award. He did look nice. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. And then you want to tell me... He's still there. Yeah. Finger wagged at them and say, but you got to do better. it's like what are we doing y'all what are we doing but you know this is this is where we're at with

black celebrity um prominent black people so many j z lines i could think of when he's just like he goes to certain rooms and the only people he sees is Oprah and will Smith he wishes there were if there were only just a few more as if if we made six more Oprah's you know Black people would be freed. It's like, Lord have mercy. But the music still resonates with me. I say all of that to say. In conclusion, yeah.

I say all that to say. I still get chill bumps when I listen to the evils. Like, you know, regrets. Whenever I listen to it, I'm still moved by that song. I'm still in awe of the rhymes that Jay-Z has put on wax to this day, I still listen to this guy's music and I'm blown away by what this guy was able to put together. He's still probably my favorite rapper ever.

Still, I still struggled to hear new rappers and just like, you're not better than Jay-Z. This is not better than what he spit in 96, you know. And so I say all of that to say, like, as a 37-year-old man, I'm annoyed. I'm mildly annoyed by the public person who Jay-Z has become, but at the same time, like, the music to me is still everlasting. Right.

That's why you're annoyed. It's a testament to him, really, that he can still annoy you. I get it. And it's so funny, I'm still carrying a lot of these scars, right? Yeah. From the Naz and J-Z wars, which again in New York City was a civil war damn near. Right, right. Everybody had a side.

You were either Nazi. with Jay Z. I can remember feeling like a small, it felt like somebody died the first time I heard either. I was like, oh my God, this is vicious. This is fucked, right?

I still remember all of those conversations. I still remember people getting to fistfights on my block over the Nause and JZ. People have never met Nause and JZ in their lives, right? And like, I still carry those scars to the point where when most deaf is calling Drake's music, you know, target music, I'm reminded of those conversations. It's the exact same convoy.

And because I know most deaf sensibilities, I know this guy was the ur backpacker. I know how this guy felt about bad boy. I know how he probably feels about a lot of this shit Jay-Z put out. So when I hear that comment, like some people are just like, oh, old man, hey, I'm like, no. This is just Gen X backpacker sellout bullshit. This is okay player.

It's just more of it. It's more of the sellout discourse, right? And so I still carry so many of these scars. But yeah, man, it's Jay-Z, man. In conclusion, it's Jay-Z. Wise, we're going to have you on every week from this point. That's how we're going to handle this. Thank you, man.

Thank you for having me on. Like I said, it's an honor to come up here and talk about Jigga. I listened to every single episode. I was listening to Michael Jackson on the way over here. I damn it. I got emotional a couple of times on the 101, man. I'm telling you, Rob, I love what you guys are doing up here.

Yeah. Thank you. You even heard about the Goo Goo Goo Dolls. I'm so honored to have introduced you to the Goo Goo Dolls. That's the program. I don't see, oh, Rob, you have no idea. I had never heard a pavement in my life. No, it was nobody on my block bumping pavement, Rob, believe it or not.

They never got on Hot 97, probably. They did not. Thank you so much for being in. Love you, bro. Love you. Thanks very much to our guest this week, Wazni Lambre. Thanks, as always, to our producers, Jonathan Kerma and Justin Sales. Thanks to Chloe Clark for additional production help.

And thanks very much to you for listening. And now I suggest you go listen to Hard Knock Life by Jay-Z. We'll see you next week.