Happy 30th Anniversary to EPMD’s third studio album Business As Usual, originally released December 18, 1990.
Releasing a great third album is an overlooked art. In the, say, post-1968 conception of the long player, the debut is where you make your initial and often greatest impact. Then there’s all the baggage that’s associated with the sophomore release. But I’ve always believed that the third album is where the real work is done. Some of the time, it’s the artist or group learning from their mistakes and either recalibrating or going back to their roots after a disappointing sophomore effort. But for some of the greats, a third album is where its creator takes everything to the next level.
EPMD’s Business As Usual, released 30 years ago, is an all-time great third album. It’s also their best album overall. Fronted by emcees Erick “E-Double” Sermon & Parrish “PMD” Smith and backed by turntable master George “DJ Scratch” Spivey, EPMD had already released a pair of astounding releases: Strictly Business (1988) and Unfinished Business (1989). In the tribute I wrote for Unfinished Business, I noted how the album was part of a slew of amazing sophomore releases that helped define the golden era. But Business As Usual demonstrates that the group knew how to continually and incrementally raise their game, and for me, the album kicked off an era of greatness for hip-hop music as a whole.
Business As Usual stands up well with the superior third albums released up to that point, such as Run-DMC’s Raising Hell (1986), Boogie Down Productions’ Ghetto Music: The Blueprint (1989), Public Enemy’s Fear Of A Black Planet (1990), and Eric B. & Rakim’s Let the Rhythm Hit ’Em (1990). It also ranks among the greatest third albums released afterwards, such as A Tribe Called Quest’s Midnight Marauders (1993) and OutKast’s Aquemini (1998). Albumism recently did a whole poll where readers voted for the best third albums in hip-hop history, and Business As Usual came in at #14. Personally, I’d place it ahead of all but a scant few.
EPMD doesn’t deviate from their past approach throughout Business As Usual, instead finding ways to get better at what they were already great at doing. They move with optimum precision on this effort, as Erick and Parrish (particular the latter) rap with determination and purpose. The duo had always projected a stone-like cool on their earlier efforts, but there’s a layer of cold fury that rumbles beneath their verses this time out. The steel in their vocals adds to their chemistry as they continue to improve their mic-passing free-for-alls that appear on many of the songs.
Musically, the tracks are muddier and darker than their previous releases. Strictly and Unfinished were summertime albums, while Business As Usual was made to be bumped in the dead of winter. Meanwhile, DJ Scratch continued to be an MVP on the turntables. I called him the best “album” DJ of all time in my Unfinished tribute, and he solidified this claim on Business As Usual. It’s my personal favorite performance by a DJ on an album.
Business As Usual was EPMD’s first album for Def Jam, then considered the absolute premier label in hip-hop. The group’s previous home, Sleeping Bag/Fresh, had fallen on hard financial times, and were on the brink of folding. Simmons bought out the contracts of both EPMD and Nice & Smooth from the troubled company, signing them to RAL a.k.a. Rush Associated Labels imprint, a subset of the Def Jam juggernaut. EPMD on Def Jam just felt so…right. They fit in perfectly alongside such superheavyweights as Public Enemy, LL Cool J, Slick Rick, and 3rd Bass.
Few albums capture pure, undiluted hip-hop as effectively as Business As Usual. I recall the first time I listened to the album, as I had popped the cassette into my boombox one evening so my brother and I could listen to something while playing Nintendo (I wish I could remember which game). It’s safe to say that I was gripped within the first five seconds of pressing play on the cassette. All it took was the sample of George Clinton shouting, “Let’s take to the stage, sucka!” followed by the blaring horns lifted from Boobie Knight & The Universal Lady’s “The Lovomaniacs,” for me to know that this was going to be an amazing album. “I’m Mad” was just that great of an opening salvo.
Musically and lyrically, “I’m Mad” pulses with raw aggression. The duo of emcees move like the Tecmo Bowl version of Bo Jackson, barreling over a sick chop of a piano note from Ohio Players’ “Laid It.” They dismiss “duck emcees,” backstabbers, and “so-called friends” with complete disdain. PMD sounds particularly savage, describing the bitter looks he gets while driving the streets of New York. “And like a sucker, yeah, you looked the other way,” he sneers. “That’s when I know you’re on my dick kid; but it’s okay.” When he reappears to close out the third verse on the song, he radiates authority, rapping, “I'm not a new jack, my rhymes are not wack, and in fact / I’m like Clint Eastwood, instead of bullets, rhymes I pack / In my flow gun, so son you better run / ’Cause when it comes to hostage and prisoners, we take none.”
The group reduces the tempo a bit on “Hardcore,” but still moves with a methodical, sinister energy. While PMD calmly chronicles the chaos in the stands of an EPMD show, Sermon promises to “attack any crab emcee that’s down with the wack.” The song also marked the debut of Redman, who delivers the song’s memorable final verse. He bullies his way through the alphabet, focusing on dissecting a different letter with each line.
When Business As Usual operates at this ominous frequency, it’s hard to top. On songs like “For My People,” the group gives off the energy of a rowdy stadium performance, whipping the crowd into a frenzy. In contrast, “Rap Is Outta Control” sounds like it was recorded in the dank bowels beneath New York City, with Erick and Parrish’s verses echoing among what sound like cavernous tunnels. They trade lines, riff, and talk shit over a sample of Funkadelic’s “I Bet You.” Hearing the two cut loose and decide to freestyle the third verse of the track gives a candid feel to the endeavor.
Business As Usual was supported by three extremely well-crafted singles that showcased EPMD’s strengths and versatility. “Gold Digger” was a solid choice for the album’s initial offering to fans. I’ve said before that songs concerning greedy women out to abscond with rapper’s money have aged fairly poorly as a concept, but “Gold Digger” is the best of this type of track. Much of it has to do with the musical backdrop, built from sections of Funkadelic’s “Not Just Knee Deep” and various James Brown-related vocals and shouts. And the duo go perfectly line for line on the song’s final verse. Regardless, it’s vastly superior to Kanye West’s own take on “Gold Digger,” which would become a hit nearly 15 years later.
“Give The People” is the group’s first politically tinged effort. As the title suggests, the song is somewhat of a rap remake of The O’Jays’ “Give The People What They Want,” with Erick and Parrish dropping rhymes advocating for Black empowerment and political awareness. The album version is good, but I personally prefer the remix version featured in the video for the track, which, much like the majority of Business As Usual, is darker and grittier.
I personally believe Business As Usual peaks with “Rampage,” the album’s second single, and one of the best tracks that the group has ever recorded. It’s a team-up with LL Cool J, and nearly flawless in every area of its execution. It features one of the first uses of the sample from Lowell Fulsom’s “Tramp,” as well as well-produced breakdowns and drops. The chant of “Slow down, baby” is practically mesmerizing, and DJ Scratch goes berserk cutting up a Kool G Rap line from Marley Marl’s “The Symphony.”
PMD was awarded rhyme of the month in The Source for his lead-off verse. He switches tempo as easy as he shifts gears in his 560 Mercedes, mixing in his patented slow flow with a rapid-fire delivery. “So pick up a pen, cop a squat, and take note,” he raps. “While rappers suffer from bleeding, sprains, and slit throats / ’Cause my style deadly, psychopath, schizophrenic / A rapper choke like a carburetor, freeze up and panic.”
LL, by then basking in the glow of his post-Mama Said Knock You Out comeback, drops one of the best guest appearances of all-time, no exaggeration. LL is in the zone here, effortlessly kicking one of the best verses of his career. “You can’t quote with your weaker throats,” he flows. “Trying to sneak a peek at how I freak the notes / Major emcees become minor B-flats / So retire the mic, get your chains and your bats.” PMD has maintained in some interviews that LL’s competitive spirit led the man to dis him and E Double on their own track, but I’m personally skeptical. All the lines that Parrish cites as digs at the pair most likely are digs at Kool Moe Dee, who LL had been feuding with for years.
Redman returns later on the album to kick the first verse on “Brothers On My Jock,” making the sample of Bob James’ “Nautilus” sound even more haunting and menacing. Though the future Funk Doc’s best remembered appearance on the album is the aforementioned “Hardcore,” he’s even better here, rhyming like his vocal cords are switchblades. “I don’t brag and boast but smash and roast,” he raps. “Emcees wit degrees from here to the West Coast.”
There’s a fine art to sounding rough and rugged while rhyming over smoother and even jazzier fare, and EPMD perfect it on Business As Usual. “Manslaughter” features the duo giving lyrical lashings over a string and guitar breakdown from Love Unlimited Orchestra’s “Strange Games and Things.” Later, on “Underground,” Erick and Parish kick two quick verses, expertly stringing words together over the baseline from Grover Washington Jr.’s “Hydra.” “There's no time to stop, so P keep on stepping,” PMD raps. “On the edge of the frame of the mind, the 9mm is the weapon.” He later reminds wack emcees that they’ll “catch a universal beatdown from sounds that pound.”
Not everything on Business As Usual works perfectly. “Mr. Bozack” features two verses of PMD talking to his dick (Sermon voices said member), with the two congratulating each other over the previous night’s exploits. I find it hard to believe that the pair couldn’t think of another topic to do justice to the slick track, built around a sample of a keyboard squeal from James Brown’s “Take Some… Leave Some.”
“Jane 3,” the third installment of their misadventures with skeezer/former groupie Jane, is another miss. The third part of the series finds Jane posing as a “Jay,” a male member of the crew, in order to get close to the pair. The result is a mess and sounds really bad within today’s cultural context.
Business As Usual ends with “Funky Piano,” a dedication to their DJ. As I’ve frequently mentioned, Scratch gives the performance of his career on this album. He continues to elevate the form here, contributing frequent sonic blitzes in between verses by the duo lauding his immaculate skills. Tracks where rappers honored their DJs would become rarer as the 1990s progressed, even though turntablism would soon begin to thrive. Still, since Scratch was integral to this album’s success, he deserved even more time to shine.
Though Business As Usual wasn’t quite the sales success of their two previous albums, it seemed to position EPMD for the next phase of their career and a possible lengthy monster run. The group frequently name-checked the “Hit Squad” crew name throughout the project and would launch the group as a whole soon thereafter. At the time, the collective was made up of themselves, K-Solo, and Redman; they would soon add Das EFX and the Knuckleheadz to their ranks. The Hit Squad would go on to much success throughout 1992, with the members of the collective releasing a quartet of spectacular albums over a roughly six-month period. This was before they would come apart in an infamously ugly fashion in 1993.
I miss this version of EPMD. And I miss this era of hip-hop. I feel like Business As Usual began my favorite era of the music, which subsequently lasted through the end of 1994 or so. I realize that what I still consider the golden era of hip-hop couldn’t last forever, just as EPMD would eventually end as well, and later go through more break-ups and reunions than I care to count. But the music that the crew put out here was the best that hip-hop had to offer at the time, and really solidified my love for the art form.
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