Some claim it was lack of vision. Others make claims of him being money hungry. But this writer believes that if Russell Simmons had the capital, he would have made a label around his brother Run. If there was any lack of vision it was due to that. Simmons had the foresight to recognize that people really wanted a recorded rendition of a live rap show. Simmons saw that he had to strip away all artifice: “no curls, no braids…” no spacesuits, no spikes — none of that — his group would appear like the everyday b-boy. Simmons even knew the name Run DMC — in a time where names like Two Fresh MCs (or something to that effect) was the norm — Simmons knew that that name would ring out. The “lack of vision” claims clearly are false and usually used in a compare and contrast argument to build up the character of his future partner, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

Run DMC before their uniformed look.

I have to be honest — I was never a fan of “It’s Like That,” let’s get that out of the way. It seemed too simple and slow and tame. “Wake Up,” a song from the debut album had the same amount of saccharin. I couldn’t get behind those songs at all. But the B-side...

The B-side won again. “Sucker MCs (Krush Groove part 1)” not only changed my life, it changed the trajectory of recorded rap. It was hungry. It was hard. It felt young and new and the way it started (“boom bap bap bap bap bap bap bap bap”) jarred the listeners attention. I’m not alone in saying that my identity was shaped by Run DMC and this release. Of course, that could have been the first Def Jam record— it certainly is the blueprint for its aesthetic. But instead Simmons did what everyone did in this era: he took his group to a label — in this instance Profile — and got a shitty deal.

If “Genius Rap” opened the door for Profile, “It’s Like That/Sucker MCs” bought Robbins and Plotnicki the whole damn building. That single alone moved 250,000 units (keep in mind the dollar a record equation). Success is like the lead fish in a school, as all the other fish follow close behind. The only difference is: unlike fish, people with that mentality are rarely protected. Profile had its pick of talent. And that was just a single. At Simmons urging, Profile put out what no other record label would dare attempt. Run DMC dropped a self-titled, cohesive album and it was a success. And that, dear reader, is an understatement.

This is my era, when I came into hip-hop consciousness. I could wax poetic about 1984 and what the music meant to me, but that’s another essay. Suffice it to say, the summer and fall were filled with “Sucker MC’s” inspired songs.

Like “Rapper’s Delight,” enough ink has been dedicated to “It’s Yours.” Not because of its bass, although that’s noted. Not because of the rapper, T La Rock, whose interesting history of being down with Coke La Rock and Scott La Rock have yet to be investigated. Nope. “It’s Yours” is talked about due to the overwhelming lovefest for Rick Rubin.

We know that Rubin ran what would become Def Jam from his dorm room. We know he wanted the Treacherous Three, but they were under contract. We know how his parents treated him for God’s sake and his childhood sensibilities. For us, none of that is important.

What’s important to us is Rick Rubin had a moment when he heard “Sucker MCs” and his eyes were opened to the type of rap he wanted to make. Because of that, “It’s Yours” is of the same stripped-down, beat box and scratch-type rap. A sound he would repeat on the first true Def Jam recording — LL Cool J’s “I Need a Beat.”

The recording of the former is what brought Rubin and Simmons together. Supposedly, Rubin convinced Simmons that they could have their own label, and borrowed $5000 from his family. Simmons threw in some of his own money and the legend of Def Jam began.

That’s the well known story and while that’s not the end of any Black label per se — Russell Simmons empowered everyone from Andre Harrell to Lyor Cohen, but the focus became less about him and more about the bearded Rubin. Everyone knows this story and if they didn’t, they could drown in the words dedicated to it.

The other story — the one less known—is about a small label and a big hit. Fred Munao began his label Select in 1981, the same year as Tom Silverman and Robbins and Plotnicki, but up until that point hadn’t had a major hit. All of that changed in the fall of 1984.

Full Force, a Brooklyn band consisting of three brothers and three cousins, had been trying their hand at being signed to a label to no avail. At the behest of their co-manager, Steve Salem, they entered into production. The first group they produced was a crew of dancers for Whodini made up of Doctor Ice, the Kangol Kid and their two friends, the Educated Rapper and Mixmaster Ice. They called themselves UTFO (Untouchable Force Organization) and they were about to make rap history.

In yet another example of the B-side being the right side, Munao had been doing his best to promote the A-side, “Hanging Out.” Full Force and UTFO also believed that to be the hit. But it was the B-side “throwaway” song that Full Force member B-Fine thought of that took off, a song about being turned down by a “stuck up” girl.

“Roxanne, Roxanne” could be heard everywhere in the tri-state area. There are literally hundreds of response records (seriously, Google “Roxanne answer records.”) “Roxanne, Roxanne” sold 200,000 records in six weeks. UTFO did more than keep Select alive — they gave Munao wings.

Meanwhile, the cash-strapped Sugar Hill records was again having nefarious dealings with organized crime. It was always alleged that the record label got its start with seed money from the mob and Joe Robinson maintained a gangster-like demeanor. His penchant for keeping guns on his person are almost legendary. But no gun was big enough to stop Sugar Hill Records from being drug into the United States Senate vs Pisello hearings. The label was officially over. The end of Enjoy Records wasn’t far behind.

By 1985, not only had Masterdon left Enjoy for Profile, Bobby Robinson’s own daughter joined the Profile team. Pumpkin, Enjoy’s original in-house producer, also made the exodus to 740 Broadway (Profile). The writing was on the wall. Billboard made a list of the Top 10 Indie Labels that summer of ‘85 and didn’t include a single Black-owned company, as even Def Jam did not even make the list. The top two spots being — you guessed it — Profile and Tommy Boy. Enjoy Records would close shop two years later.