Boom Bap

When running down a list of rap’s greatest MC’s of all time, one name that should show up near the top of the list that never does is that of Ricky Walters AKA Slick Rick. The London-born, Bronx-raised rapper made his initial mark on the scene in the summer of 1985 with his rhyme partner Doug E. Fresh on a pair of hit singles (“La Di Da Di” & “The Show”), that were among the hip-hop genre’s first mass-appeal hits ever. In the ensuing three years, there was a spat and break-up with Fresh, the release of a direct rip-off artist (Dana Dane) and a long break before the release of his first solo album, “The Great Adventures of Slick Rick”, an overlooked classic and, in my humble opinion, one of the best rap albums of all time.

Rick’s uniqueness is based on two things: his voice and his storytelling ability. At a time when emcees were totally fixated on how “hard” they were, Rick’s British accent and fey sounding voice made him sound like a younger version of “Geoffrey’, the butler on “The Fresh Prince of Bel Air”. Some may argue, but I think the accent gave him a bit more of an air of grace and classiness. Let’s not forget Rick’s freshly dipped wardrobe, with his tons of gold jewellery, his eye patch, fuzzy Kangol hats and Bally loafers. Rick almost solely brought in the era of the dapper hip-hopper when everyone was rocking jeans and sneakers.

Rick’s storytelling makes his songs come alive almost like a movie. His attention to detail and sense of humour is something that is sorely lacking in today’s hip-hop. Who else would create a song like “The Moment I Feared”, a darkly comedic song in which Rick is robbed of his jewels at a club, is greeted the next day by a friend’s girlfriend, sleeps with said girlfriend, is walked in on by his buddy, then shoots his buddy to death, kills the girlfriend and then winds up in jail getting corn holed. It’s a combination morality tale/comic relief track that is among the single most descriptive stories ever heard in hip-hop.

His sense of humour continues on tracks like the percussive “Mona Lisa” (on which Rick uses a very healthy chunk of Dionne Warwick’s “Walk On By” (of course, this was before sample-credit suits started coming out of nowhere), and on tracks like “Treat Her Like A Prostitute” and “Indian Girl”. Yes, the songs are somewhat misogynistic, but they’re obviously met in good fun, especially “Indian Girl” the story of Davy Crockett and Running Rabbit, which manages to be disrespectful to Native Americans and women at the same time (and has an ending involving talking genitalia and spear-chucking genital lice that is gross and hilarious simultaneously).

Ribald sense of humour aside, this album also has a few tracks with a moral centre. “Teenage Love” is, in my opinion, the best rap ballad ever, on which Rick describes the flourish and disintegration of a young relationship in cinematic detail. The album’s centrepiece, however, is the vivid “Children’s Story”, a somewhat disturbing piece about the inevitable descent of a kid who gets led into a life of crime. Most of today’s rappers would play the Billy The Kid element of this story into a positive, but Rick ends his rap with “The cops shot the kid, I can still hear him scream/This ain’t funny so don’t you dare laugh/Just another case about the wrong path…”. Of course, in the irony of all ironies, Rick wound up involved in a situation that almost totally mirrors the one described in “Children’s Story”, getting caught on an attempted murder rap. This derailed Slick Rick’s career, and although there would be a minor comeback when he was released in the mid-nineties, Rick’s career fell apart again when he was picked up after performing on a cruise ship that left the United States, apparently Rick hadn’t realized that as a convicted felon who was not born in the U.S., he was not allowed to leave the country, and was forced with deportation back to the U.K.

At any rate, this album is one of the benchmarks of the whole rap genre, despite some fundamental flaws. First of all, the mixing and production on this album ranges from average to terrible. The album is definitely in need of a remastering, and the production (from Rick, Jam Master Jay and the Bomb Squad) is spotty by today’s standards, although what can you expect from a 17 year old rap album? Despite some obvious filler tracks (‘Let’s Get Crazy”), this album was one of several released from 1987-1989 or so that set the table for what would become modern-day hip-hop. In addition, “Great Adventures…” was one of rap’s biggest success stories up until that point, becoming only the third rap album to hit #1 on Billboard’s Top R&B albums chart (following “Raising Hell” & “Bigger & Deffer”). It also had to be a definite influence on a young Snoop Dogg, since Snoop has spent nearly his entire career adopting Rick’s vocal mannerisms.

Despite the fact that the profanity may turn you off but if you’re a regular hip-hop listener then this album is a must-have. Armed with sharp wit and a gift for storytelling, Slick Rick and his debut remain one of the most underappreciated stories in all of rap history.