To say that Freestyle Fellowship significantly influenced west coast hip-hop is like saying that Jesus was a pivotal figure in Christianity. Before Freestyle Fellowship, the Old Testament of left coast hip-hop consisted of either the soon-to-be-played-out gangster funk of Dr. Dre or aloof oddities such as the Digital Underground. With their seminal debut, To Whom it May Concern, Freestyle Fellowship ushered in a new era of minimalist, bass-heavy tracks and progressive, socially astute lyrics that incorporated both harmonies and spoken word interludes. Not only did they define the genre's musical aesthetic, they also developed the keep-it-underground ethic that has defined the movement. Unfortunately, after reaching a pinnacle with 1993's Innercity Griots, the Fellowship were forced to go on a hiatus due to Self-Jupiter's incarceration. Although they reunited briefly in 1998, only one single was released from that session, and for eight long years, fans of west coast underground were forced to feed off the scraps of inconsistent solo albums and innovatively challenged imitators like Jurassic 5 and Dilated Peoples.
When word hit the street that the group was reforming to record what would become 2001's Temptations, the hype was so heavy you would've thought they were about to reinvent sex. Although the universal ridicule that greeted that album was a bit overstated, no one could argue that Temptations was anywhere near the level as their previous two masterpieces. The beats were light and forgettable, and although the individual verses were still strong, the members didn't stay in synch with one another lyrically, which was always a vital essence of the Fellowship dynamic. Although Freestyle Fellowship had repeatedly promised us "we will never fall the fuck off," they appeared to have done just that. In the aftermath of that colossal disappointment, emcee Mikah 9 announced that Freestyle Fellowship had once again disbanded.
In light of the dismal chain of events that were to follow, the brilliance of the recently released, from-the-vaults collection Shockadoom is bittersweet. Its songs are taken from the aborted '98 sessions and, while bootlegged on the Internet, have never officially seen the light of day. Listening to this album is like hearing the dark, challenging album we had anticipated from Temptations. There are only eight tracks on this album, including one skit and an extremely brief freestyle offering, but the density and uniqueness of each song makes it seems as though this is much more substantial than a long EP.
"Can You Find the Level of Difficulty in This," the album's lead-off track, was originally released in '98 and showcases Freestyle Fellowship at their lyrical best. Mikah 9 provides what may be the best verse of his career, assaulting the uptempo beat with a barrage of mathematical assonance that seamlessly flows off his tongue like a phonetic blitzkrieg. The liner notes indicate each emcee was given thirty minutes to write their verses, and after Mikah dropped his first, Aceyalone and PEACE ended the recording session with Aceyalone commenting that he "had got to come with something to match that!" Apparently, the extra time paid off, as Acey's verse is every bit as goosebump-inducing as Mikah's. He raps, "Rap rhyme designer/ Purely Indubitably Excellent Brilliant Intertwiner/ Kinda Off-Beat Off-Center/ Simple yet confusing/ God Sunshiner with a Twist/ Can you find the level of difficulty in this?" As on every other track, the lyrics are dazzling.
Omid (aka OD), the incredibly underrated producer who was responsible for 1999's bizarre but brilliant compilation album Beneath the Surface, supplies most of the album's beats. His production ranges from dark to darker, incorporating equal-parts cool jazz and fuzzy basement hip-hop that results in a noirish ambience both foreboding and rhythmic. Although OD's tracks have elements of '98 trip-hop, its grittiness helps it age a bit better than most of that genre's offerings, and at times suggests a missing link between the jazziness of early Tribe Called Quest and the industrial soundscapes of El-P.
The production on "Desperate" is particularly impressive. A loud, thudding bassline provides a brilliant counterpoint to the track's shuffling, jazzy drum loops and perfectly complements the abstract paranoia of the lyrics. By providing such a dark accompaniment, OD seems to be pushing the emcees into a darker terrain, a move that produces-- particularly on the first half of the album-- some of the most complex and morally ambivalent work of their careers. It's a lyrical density that was present in some of their earlier material, but sorely missing from the lightweight Temptations.
For "We Will Never Fall the Fuck Off," a sax player and a trumpeter are added to the mix with very positive results. Freestyle Fellowship has always incorporated a healthy dose of jazz into their tracks, so this seems like a very natural progression. And as the track fades out, the horn players reference the sample from "Inner City Boundaries," which is a knowing nod to all Fellowship devotees. Unfortunately, the track's lyrics are of the boring braggadocio variety that tainted much of west coast hip-hop from that particular era.
That minor lyrical misstep aside, Shockadoom is absolutely brilliant. The energy and creativity here is on par with anything from either Innercity Griots or To Whom It May Concern. And it makes one wonder what would have been possible if Freestyle Fellowship could've stayed together long enough to record a full length in '98, and not waited until 2001 when the synergy between the four emcees had diminished.
