In 1997 I was a kid living in New York deeply entrenched into Hip-Hop, pretty much whatever the radio dictated is what was good. Between Bad Boy, Common, Tribe, De La, Wu-Tang, Capone & Noreaga, Jeru The Damaja, The Roots and others, whatever had that “east coast” sound is what I checked for. When The Source was still credible, I read about how Company Flow was redefining music as we knew it and wasn’t about to miss the boat. Always open-minded I headed to Fat Beats maybe two or three months after its release and bought the CD, ready for my mind to be blown. At the time, my 17 year old mind couldn’t comprehend it but I was pretentiously “open” in hopes that it would hit me, because after all anyone who really knew their shit was going crazy over this album (I’d come to learn a lot about how much weight critics actually hold over the years). In the end I only bumped it twice and I put it away for a rainy day, but I wouldn’t allow myself to accept that it had the slightest shred of wackness in it.
As Funcrusher Plus is about to be re-released this spring, I finally “get” the album if there’s anything to really get. The artists were pissed at the direction the culture was headed and went all the way left field, holding their nuts and giving the finger to the dreaded “industry” and it stands as a bold, angry statement that gave birth to the vermin known as “backpackers”. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it timeless (my personal views still don’t consider this a “classic” or something I would revisit multiple times yearly), but it’s pretty good when viewed in its proper capsule. I take no offense to isolating art that distinguishes the audience it’s intended for, but the off-putting part is (while perhaps unintentionally), this album set the tone for the all or nothing “the underground rules, the mainstream is bullshit” mentality still alive in the hearts of many today. I can certainly comprehend the need for something original that was dedicated to cultural preservation in light of the panic that Puff Daddy caused at the time, and I even understand how rappers who found cause for alarm had as much vitriol as this suite contains. I’m just glad I didn’t become a subterranean zombie, whereby I’ve always been able to think for myself and discern what sounds good to me from what doesn’t. More than anything, El-P, Bigg Jus and Mr. Len are to be commended for the infamous “Independent As Fuck” slogan that paved the way for many who would rise up through the ranks and stray from convention in getting their product out to the masses. In 2009 I recognize Company Flow’s staunch dedication to authenticity, the dagger-sharp lyrics and ingenuity of the whole package. But I’m not convinced that many of their biggest fanboys weren’t aboard merely because groupthink felt like the right thing to do as they took a united front and rebelled against the jiggy era.
