(the most significant Rap album of my young life)

Of all the albums that I’ve written about, no album had an affect on me like De La Soul’s debut album, 3 Feet High and Rising.

I’ve never subscribed to the whole ‘nerd’ title. To be a nerd meant to lack social skills and/or be an expert in one particular field. That’s not what was growing up. Like all children, I was extremely curious…I just never let that spirit die.

As I got older, those differences only increased. I didn’t just LISTEN to Rap or write (Graf), I studied its history and by the time 1989 rolled around I was studying the history of our sojourn to America and all that came before it.

I was doing this in an environment that was exploding in gang violence. My Sophomore year and Junior year in high school were like night and day. My Sophomore year (which I often jokingly refer to as my first Senior year) felt like a celebration. Ade was on the football team so my whole crew went to every game, that same crew entered our first talent show together, and when Rugby season rolled around, we all played.

It was also the year that we finally were allowed to hit up parties. Big Jon of Norman’s fame (now the head of Warner/Chapell) was a part of a DJ collective that held parties in hotel ballrooms, first on Colfax then on Colorado Boulevard. Those parties were called Gucci’s. We went every weekend.

Denver was still safe, innocent.

My Junior year…wasn’t nobody going to no parties. Parties were getting shot up. We could barely go to the mall without some sort of gang fight. Hell, even walking home from work was like traveling through the Triangle of Death.

Between the drug dealers, the addicts, and constant threats of drive-bys, Park Hill was like a war zone.

Sayyed Munajj and I had been known as the “Public Enemy Niggas” long before It Takes a Nation of Millions, and months before we were walking the streets with clocks hanging from our necks. He and I were fans of Public Enemy’s Yo! Bum Rush the Show, and that fandom only increased with the release of “Rebel Without a Pause.”

That song annoyed the shit outta of every sista that wasn’t Chonda Watkins or Deanna Lowman and it wasn’t a fav amongst the brothas neither. Denver was already beginning its West Coast leanings. “Bring the Noise” didn’t win that crowd over neither.

So by default, Sayyed and I were the “Public Enemy Niggas.” Nobody else was into em like he and I. It helped that we were influenced by the lyrics and were known to say a militant thing or two. But even though I shared the world views of Chuck, I was never that serious. Even later when I joined the Mosque, I took Master Fard Muhammad’s edict “work cheerfully” to heart.

That’s why I connected with “Potholes in My Lawn” on a visceral level. I hadn’t seen a video that lo-fi since the beginning of videos and lord knows I had no idea what they were saying. But it was so damn different. I never heard any of the other singles before I bought 3 Feet.

The album felt like something that me and Ade would have made. We were heavily influenced by Saturday Night Live and used to fill hour-long cassettes with our own variety shows, replete with commercials and everything. The silly questions on the faux talk show — right up me and my brother’s proverbial alley.

If you grow up Black, amongst Black people, you already know. We will squeeze every bit of non-conformity out of you long before you reach adulthood. If the constant jokes and ridicule ain’t enough, there’s often a healthy dose of ass whoppings accompanying those jokes. Escaping that and being yourself is almost a miracle.

Hearing 3 Feet High and Rising was refreshing for that alone. Their success was the cherry on top. De La Soul was the first group to cross over…that I ain’t disown, instead I celebrated their success. Seeing De La made me realize that you could actually be successful…being yourself…even if that means you call yourself Yogurt and Sop sound spelled backwards.