A column dedicated to great songs, old and new.
May 24, 2005
Written by Fletcher/Glover/Robinson/Chase
From The Message, Sugarhill Records, 1982
I was drawn to hip-hop from the very first time my Californian ears had a chance to hear it, which was in 1980 (the inevitable "Rapper's Delight" by the Sugarhill Gang). In 1981, my brother Jose procured a cassette of songs by the Sugarhill Gang, Kurtis Blow, and Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five (GMFF). I loved the music and the rhymes on all the songs, and memorized the lyrics to most of them. My favorite was "Freedom" by Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, which had a fun vibe and a memorable horn hook.
The Message
Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five
In 1982, I heard GMFF's new tune, "The Message" on KSOL, our local soul/funk station. The gravity of the subject matter, the detailed storytelling, and the edgy desperation in the vocal all struck me as being light years away from their earlier songs, which were often a mix of bragging and party-chants. I remember stopping what I was doing so I could hear every single word. By the end of the song, it was clear to me that GMFF had done something important by harnessing the power of this new, lyric-based music form to say something of depth and substance.
I read somewhere that the writing/recording process (which included new collaborator Duke Bootee) for this song was unusual; a bit of a pastiche. No matter how they got there, I think what makes the narrative so compelling is that it gets darker as it goes along. It begins with angry observations about the hard-knock life in the first verse, touches on the mix of frustration and opportunism that helps form a jaded worldview in the middle, and concludes with a hard-hitting verse that seems like a warning at first, but at closer inspection is actually a grim prediction of surrender. That last verse actually begins with compassion for the young person at whom the message is directed:
"God is smiling on you, but he's frowning, too, 'cause only God knows what you'll go through."
But that same verse ends with a finality that pulls no punches:
"But now your eyes sing the sad, sad, song 'bout how you lived so fast and died so young."
When the rapping stops, the music continues. We hear city-sounds, and the voices of GMFF, presumably hanging out on a street corner, talking about their social plans for the evening. Their innocent conversation is interrupted by sirens and harassment by the police, further illustrating the hopelessness expressed earlier.
Very often, when a song comes along and succeeds on a number of levels, copycat songs follow quickly. This was certainly the case with "The Message". All kinds of "message-oriented" rap songs were released in 1982 and 1983. Some were good, some were cheesy, others were obvious cash-ins. My personal favorite was "Problems of the World Today" by the Fearless Four. GMFF also released more songs in this vein, all of which were quite good: "The Message II (Survival)", "New York, New York", and "White Lines (Don't Don't Do It)." These songs helped lay the groundwork for other serious hip-hop writers, and, in my mind, made a clear connection between rap music and earlier spoken-word artists like The Last Poets, Gil Scott-Heron, and Eugene B. Redmond.
I'm making some of these observations with an adult's knowledge of music history and context, of course. Back in 1982, "The Message" simply filled me with excitement about the future of music, and furthered my desire to be part of it somehow.
pcm
Purchase:
The Message
at Amazon.com
at Tower
Records