For much of the initial half of hip-hop’s first three decades, Detroit was a missing player on the national stage. Despite being perhaps the most important city in the musical history of the 20th Century, there were remarkably few rappers that managed to break free of municipal limits until the late 1990s.
The music industry had treated Detroit as flyover territory ever since Motown Records departed for L.A. in the mid-’70s. With few opportunities for major label deals, no consistently successful local independent record companies, and scant radio airplay, the deck was stacked against any artist being heard much beyond 8 Mile Road (the infamous northern boundary line between the predominantly black city and its predominantly white suburbs).
Today, of course, any hip-hop head is familiar with the legacy of the producer J Dilla and the high-octane hijinks of motor-mouthed Motor City MCs—from Eminem to Big Sean to Danny Brown. But it takes a little deeper digging in the crates to unearth the fuller story of Detroit hip-hop’s truly flavorful history. This is The 411 On The 313: A Brief History of Detroit Hip-Hop.
The music industry had treated Detroit as flyover territory ever since Motown Records departed for L.A. in the mid-’70s. With few opportunities for major label deals, no consistently successful local independent record companies, and scant radio airplay, the deck was stacked against any artist being heard much beyond 8 Mile Road (the infamous northern boundary line between the predominantly black city and its predominantly white suburbs).
Today, of course, any hip-hop head is familiar with the legacy of the producer J Dilla and the high-octane hijinks of motor-mouthed Motor City MCs—from Eminem to Big Sean to Danny Brown. But it takes a little deeper digging in the crates to unearth the fuller story of Detroit hip-hop’s truly flavorful history. This is The 411 On The 313: A Brief History of Detroit Hip-Hop.
Though a distant spectator, Detroit was actually a willing participant at rap's inception, thanks to the city's embrace of electro, one of the rhythmic sources from which early hip-hop flowed. Afrika Bambaataa and the Soulsonic Force (as well as his sampling inspiration, Kraftwerk) were staples of the late-night sets by the influential FM radio DJ the Electrifying Mojo, along with the early recordings by Cybotron, a local duo featuring a young synthesizer enthusiast named Juan Atkins. But where New York DJs and producers concentrated on the verbal gymnastics of MCs, Detroit remained focused on the music's sleek electronic instrumentals and driving drum-machine beats, and soon a generation of African-American producers and beat-makers would speed up the tempos to create the futuristic-leaning sound of techno instead.
Cybotron "Clear" (1983)
Cybotron "Clear" (1983)
Detroit's earliest relatively successful rappers were probably the Jheri-curled duo Felix & Jarvis, who had a local hit with their 1982 single "Flamethrower Rap" (co-produced by Don Was), which borrowed its music wholesale from the J. Geils Band's "Flamethrower" (itself a staple of Mojo's WGPR-FM sets). Further cementing their local fame, the pair provided the theme song for the daily dance-party TV show The Scene on African-American-owned UHF station Channel 62: "It's 6 o'clock and it's time to rock/We rock non-stop til 7 o'clock . . ."
Felix & Jarvis The Scene theme song/"Flamethrower Rap,"WGPR-TV (1983)
Felix & Jarvis The Scene theme song/"Flamethrower Rap,"WGPR-TV (1983)
Felix & Jarvis had posed the eternal question "Are you ready to throw down?" But while audiences enthusiastically answered "Yes we are!" it would prove to be several years before Detroit's rap scene was heard from again. When the music resurfaced in the late '80s, the call to party-hearty had been replaced by post-Public Enemy black consciousness and post-N.W.A street-corner reportage.
The image of the MCs themselves had hardened as well, influenced in no small way by the headline-grabbing exploits of local gangsters like the Young Boys Incorporated drug cartel (who devised many of the organizational innovations later employed nationwide in the '80s crack trade) and the aggressive persona of the "Bad Boys"-era Detroit Pistons.
Prince Vince and the Hip Hop Force "Gangster Funk" (1988)
Awesome Dre & The Hardcore Committee "Frankly Speaking" (1989)
Awesome Dre & The Hardcore Committee "You Can't Hold Me Back" (1989)
Kaos & Mystro, "Mass Confusion" (1989)
Kaos & Mystro "Mystro On the Flex" (1989)
Merciless Amir (as Ameer Stein) "A Day Without A Rhyme" (1989)
Detroit's Most Wanted "City of Boom" (1990)
The image of the MCs themselves had hardened as well, influenced in no small way by the headline-grabbing exploits of local gangsters like the Young Boys Incorporated drug cartel (who devised many of the organizational innovations later employed nationwide in the '80s crack trade) and the aggressive persona of the "Bad Boys"-era Detroit Pistons.
Prince Vince and the Hip Hop Force "Gangster Funk" (1988)
Awesome Dre & The Hardcore Committee "Frankly Speaking" (1989)
Awesome Dre & The Hardcore Committee "You Can't Hold Me Back" (1989)
Kaos & Mystro, "Mass Confusion" (1989)
Kaos & Mystro "Mystro On the Flex" (1989)
Merciless Amir (as Ameer Stein) "A Day Without A Rhyme" (1989)
Detroit's Most Wanted "City of Boom" (1990)
Given its affinity for both electronic music and hip-hop, Detroit was a prime breeding ground for the short-lived "hip-house" sound, which combined accelerated rapping with up tempo dance beats. Detroit techno originator "Magic" Juan Atkins dabbled in hip-house, the pioneering radio DJ Jeff Mills spun the music during his frenetic WJLB-FM shows as "the Wizard," while Mills' politically incendiary group Underground Resistance featured rapping by Robert Hood in their live shows.
Magic Juan (Juan Atkins) & Normski ""Yeah, Yeah, Yeah," (1988)
Underground Resistance & Robert Hood "Panic" (1991)
Magic Juan (Juan Atkins) & Normski ""Yeah, Yeah, Yeah," (1988)
Underground Resistance & Robert Hood "Panic" (1991)
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