In April, members of Vinyl Me, Please Rap & Hip-Hop will receive an exclusive pressing of Goodie Mob’s Soul Food as their Record of the Month. This is the first time the Dirty South classic has been reissued on vinyl since its 1995 release date. From instrumental albums from famous producers, to reissues of classics, to never-before-on vinyl new releases, Vinyl Me, Please Rap & Hip-Hop is a must for rap fans. You can sign up for Vinyl Me, Please Rap & Hip-Hop below.

To understand the Dirty South is to immerse oneself into the grit that made it possible; to plant oneself in the Georgian dirt and mud, the euphoria of sweat stuck to skin, southern air gliding off the bones doing 90 on an unlit highway. A term originated by Dungeon Family member Cool Breeze, the presumed southern default of today’s popular rap originates not solely from the 808 shaking your sub, or the soul samples tucked beneath them, but the lives that make it possible for Black folks to be. It’s every Sunday dinner you’ve ever had, the fragrance rising from a block where every mama’s your mama, and every life’s for the taking. It’s the nickel bag, the church fan, and the peach cobbler.

Soul Food is the 1995 debut album from Goodie Mob: a Georgia-grown quartet from the Dungeon Family tree, placing roots in the dirt of Atlanta. Cee-Lo, Khujo, T-Mo, and Big Gipp dedicated almost a year in the Dungeon with the Organized Noize collective to introduce the first definitive work of Dirty South hip-hop; this album’s the first to use the term. Goodie Mob is a shorthand for The Good Die Mostly Over Bullshit, or God is Every Man of Blackness. From the vantage of four Black men, born in the ‘70s and just exiting their 20s by ‘95, they carried grown urgency with youthful exuberance, walking as chosen ones. Soul Food is an album of choices and consequences, bearing a Black weight of poverty and escape while beaming the light everywhere we forget to look. While claiming the conscious label with pride, there’s nothing preachy about them; the Goodie Mob balances these extremes like a loose swisher tucked behind the ear, like they’ve done it before and would do it all again. It’s hearing your brother speak when you take a ride, your cousin on his last $5 with a plate being the only thing he needs. Certainly, there’s no light to shine without being well-acquainted with the darkness; the world’s the trap, and we all must live to earn our death.