Wu Tang Forever 20th Anniversary Feature

In Chinese lore, dragons are bonded to the number nine. The ancient serpent has nine forms and nine sons. With the head of a horse, demon’s eyes, clam’s belly and snake’s tail, their interlocking parts can bring success or misfortune. Before greed, tragedy and Martin Shrekli, nine New Yorkers forged an unwieldy beast of their own. And it would never soar higher than Wu-Tang Forever.

Wu’s origin is cherished folklore, recited by greying pilgrims to the spin of anti-skip Discmans. After a failed Tommy Boy contract and vanquishing murder charges in Ohio, Robert Diggs set on industry takeover. A martial arts fanatic, Diggs was captivated by 1978 flick Five Deadly Venoms. The cult hit featured five warriors, each attacking with bestial ferocity. He conceived a similar cast of MCs spitting indomitable verbal Qigong. Diggs, now the RZA, plus his cousins Ol’ Dirty Bastard and GZA along with Method Man, Raekwon, Ghostface Killah, Inspectah Deck, U-God and Masta Killa formed a nonagon of wit, knowledge and metal flying guillotines.

RZA guaranteed supremacy if they’d submit for five years. They’d have solo record deals, clothes, caramel sundae air freshener, our hearts, our minds – you name it. Stunningly, Diggs’ concept worked. Small time hoodlums became action figures and film stars. It was the mid-90s, and Wu-Tang were supremely cool at a time when “cool” was still bankable. It was also the dawn of rap commercialization, before Beats made Dre a fortune and Jay Z hosted reptilian board meetings. RZA, his brother Divine and associate Oli Grant chased Disney money. Their golden crane logo was everywhere. Power launched the Wu Wear clothing brand, cutting the path for Roc-a-Wear and Sean Jean. They created Wu Filmz, Wu nails (really), Wu management, multiple labels and had over 100 affiliate artists, including Wu Latino and that poor guy who cut off his own katana.

Musically, Wu-Tang were also completing a flawless coup. Their bulletproof debut was followed by peerless solo strikes with Method Man’s Tical, GZA’s Liquid Swords, Raekwon’s Only Built For Cuban Linx and Ghostface’s Ironman. The dynasty prevailed with supreme talent and street-bred marketing savvy. Fans passionately debated favorite members like sports teams and the Wu were constantly pitched sponsorship ideas. Between Kenan & Kel‘s shenanigans on Nickelodeon, they had prime TV advertising. RZA foresaw going public on the stock market. For those who doubted rap’s buying power, this was a spin kick to the jaw.

‘Triumph’ is Forever’s accurately titled lead single, where Wu-Tang align with fierce verbosity on their finest group cut. At six minutes with 10 rappers and no hook, it radiates thermogenic bars with zero pop concession. Inspectah Deck conjures 25 years of solo shows with one uncanny soliloquy, his karaoke contingent bonded to the words, “I bomb atomically.” Ignoring commercial appeal for lyrical ballast, Wu topped the spire on their own terms.

Read the rest in FACT Mag. 

Rap superheroes

I wrote about the similarities between rappers and superheroes in Viper #7, with art by Edd Leigh.

You don’t need marvel or dc to be a superhero fan, hip hop has been tied to comic books since day uno. Faster than a foe’s bullet, smarter than a crooked cop with the ability to leap over haters and scoop your girl, MCs boast special powers minus the cape.

Hit play, pause in disbelief and you’ll witness enough uncanny sagas to mystify Stan Lee. On primeval hit ‘Rappers Delight’, former pizza boy Big Bank Hank launched comparisons by stunting on Clark Kent. “By the way baby, what’s your name? Said I go by the name of Lois Lane. And you could be my boyfriend, you surely can, just let me quit my boyfriend called Superman.”

Almost four decades later, we’ve remained covert fan-boys. Heroics and villainy surge through rap’s multiplex of wild deeds, messianic ambitions and cinematic showdowns. Among those unconsciously mimicking printed protagonists is Atlanta’s hit-making overlord Future. Whether poised as a double cupped Yahweh or 808 incubus, the masked avenger narrative remains. Like 70 years of nerd lore before him, Future’s story and perception reflects humanity’s triumphs, struggles and terrors.

MCs outstep the ordinary to snatch respect, adoration and wealth. Their names trigger a variance of mystique and believability. Akin with David Banner morphing into the Hulk, almost every hot spitta has an alias to channel their power. Quincy Matthew Hanley sounds less like a library warden under his crippy hippy pseudonym; ScHoolboy Q. Radric and Torrence aren’t names to fear, but Gucci Mane and Boosie Badazz have handled more artillery than Tunisia. Play rapper word association and specific attributes leap to consciousness. Lil Wayne – facial tattoos and drank, Cypress Hill –Latino pride and weed, Young Thug – weirdo genius. Some artists went full nerd when choosing their titles; DJ Clark Kent, DJ Green Lantern, Grandmaster Flash, Jean Grae and Big Pun all borrowed namesakes from panelled characters. One slick nom de plume isn’t enough though. Alter egos are as common as regrettable tattoos, platinum teeth and video vixens. Wu Tang Clan are the best example - each verbal assassin has a hero equivalent, most notably Ghostface Killah conjuring Tony Stark on wordplay master class Ironman. They’ve made comic books, video games and movies. RZA bought an impenetrable truck and $20,000 suit with bulletproof briefcase to realise his Bobby Digital ego. Yes, you read that right.

Read the rest here: viperpublishing.bigcartel.com