1,580.) Wed Mar. 31, 2021

The Song of the Day is:

Treacherous Three – “Whip It (w/ Phillippe Wynne)”

From the album Whip It (1982)

C’mon pretty momma, won’t you dance tonight
If you say no it’s nothing, cause we know you ain’t right
We want you all to have some fun
So have fun
And have funnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!

Reggie Andrews – Leon “Ndugu” Chandler

This is barely its own song, it is built nearly entirely on Dazz Band’s “Let It Whip” (Not sampled from Devo, as you were probably expecting). Dazz Band had a major funk/disco hit with “Let It Whip” in the same year as its rap counterpoint, 1982. In most cases like this, I would probably be playing the source of a sample like this that is so prominent and unaffected, however, the Treacherous Three did such an outstanding job of creating an old-school party atmosphere that their version is undeniable. Dare I say that the Treacherous Three improve upon the the original? I do! What we have in “Whip It” is hip-hop still in its most primitive state, but rapidly outgrowing its constraints. This song harkens back to the sound a decade earlier, while adding a level of professionalism that was always so prevalent in releases by Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five or the Sugar Hill Gang. Their sound replicates neighborhood parties in which a DJ with a small sound rig, a mic and two record players would invite amateur rappers to take turns on vocals. In the most famous early instance, it was the Bronx’s DJ Kool Herc who’d lay down the groove for potential rappers and singers. By the time this record came out, hip-hop had gone from a live experience to something on record (a transistion that marked the same concerns that jazz musicians had gone through as players thought that their licks would be stolen). Ultimately the process of putting rap on record did separate the neighborhood heroes from the true legends of the genre. In this case, it was Treacherous Three’s legendary Kool Moe Dee that came onto this record with a verbal barrage that showed his dexterity. Kool Moe Dee would ultimately be the breakout star of the group, and of the early rap genre as well. It turns out that the fear of plagiarism, or at the very least imitation was founded though, and Kool Moe Dee does consider his style to have been ripped off. The name Kool Moe Dee (born Mohandas Dewese) does carry a lot of respect in music, but he’s not as famous as LL Cool J, whom he considers to be derivative of his style. The two have feuded for decades. It’s hard to call Kool Moe Dee wrong when release dates and recordings are compared, but at this point most artists are derivative of somebody. The rest of Treacherous Three consist of Special K, LA Sunshine and their disc jockey DJ Easy Lee (Spoonie G was an early member who’d left prior to their recording career). Neither of the other members found subsequent solo fame like Kool Moe Dee, who’d release five solo albums and is credited, along with his latter-day producer Teddy Riley, for helping to create New Jack Swing. “Whip It” genuinely does sound like a block party, and just when the non-stop rapping on the track starts to get a little tiresome, they bring in guest vocalist Phillippe Wynne. I’ve always felt that Wynne, formerly of the Spinners and Parliament-Funkadelic, is one of the funkiest, most entertaining vocalists around. And just as he did with Funkadelic’s epic 15-minute workout “(Not Just) Knee Deep”, he swoops in late into the track and rambles and vocalizes to the greatest degree, helping to retain the listeners’ interest over the extended groove. Treacherous Three released three albums in the mid-eighties on Sugar Hill Records before disbanding. Kool Moe Dee was one of the biggest names in rap up until he semi-retired in 1994 (I’ve seen some sources that claim he’s released a few albums since 2015, but they must have had minor circulations).

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