Wu-Tang Clan Ain't Nothing To Fuck With

Every so often, we have to step back and recognize the influencial artists, enterprenuers, and visionaries who have shaped the world in which we live. Yes, tonight I want to recognize the Wu-Tang Clan. Formed in the early nineties by rapper GZA (the Genius) and DJ/producer RZA (the Razor), the Clan became a proto-group out of which many successful careers would be launched. Their debut album, 1993's 36 Chambers, gave the East Coast a unique sound in gangsta' rap and proved to the world that the Wu-Tang Clan ain't nothing to fuck with.

To begin a proper basking session in the glory of the Wu, one must appreciate their musical arrangements. While Dre was a pioneer with The Chronic, sampling George Clinton-esque 70s parts for his "G-Funk" style, the RZA's spares minimalism brought a sense of nervous anxiety to his group. Tracks like Tearz and C.R.E.A.M. echo the urban clausterphobia of Brooklyn and are testimonies to the Wu's tasteful sense of melody. The Wu-Tang Clan were not trying to make dance tracks; they were succeeding at making hardcore rap music.

In terms of lyricism and delivery, the myriad MCs of the group kept things fresh and exciting. From the cerebral chess metaphors of the GZA to the sing-song rhyming of Method Man to the gutteral vulgarity of the ODB, each rapper brought their own ingredients to the mix. When Raekwon the Chef's verse explodes across Shame on a Nigga', there's no other word to describe it than fucking awesome. Ghostface, Inspectah Deck, Masta Killa... damn they're good.

Perhaps the most interesting thing about the Wu was their business plan. They formed like Voltron so each could spin off into their own solo career. Most members have since released fine albums of their own, always with the others dropping in for guest appearances, and indeed the entire Clan has reformed twice for Wu Forever and Iron Flag. The RZA's career has gone in the most interesting direction, for while he still makes great hip-hop, he has also begun work in film scoring, most recently turning in fine work on Kill Bill.

I would like to raise my glass of malt liquor to the Wu-Tang Clan, in all of their hedonistic beauty. While their songs may celebrate violence, excess, and mysogy, their lives are a celebration of the American dream. Especially ODB, who died face down on the mixing board with a heart full of cocaine. The Wu-Tang Clain aint' nothing to fuck with.