
The easiest line to draw from hip hop to more traditional genres (at least back in the 80s and 90s) is with live instrumentation. The turntable and sampler were foreign devices to most people, who were used to the colloquial description of “music” meaning something that is “performed live with instruments.” And so, the simple solution to that cognitive dissonance in a lot of people’s minds is to simply make hip hop with instruments. That shouldn’t be a big problem, should it? I mean, most of hip hop is based on funk and soul samples, heavy basslines with snapping drum loops. Something easily mimicked by any number of house bands. And yet, for most of hip hop’s history, the combination of rap and instruments was something that never really clicked as much as labels and agents thought they obviously would. Sure, there’s countless producers who utilize live instrumentation in their production; but the idea that a hip hop act could become a singular entity in the way a rock band could be was something that never really amounted to anything more than an obvious step outside of what made hip hop so great, and as a result, a step back for the still evolving genre (and a step forward for the abomination that rap-rock would eventually become).
That is, except for the Roots. The Philadelphia ensemble is probably one of the most respected and simultaneously underrated groups in hip hop’s modern history; and a lot of that obviously comes from the fact that they are serious musicians, and thus, associated with countless other forgettable rap/rock combos that produce trite, misdirected, and boring music. By the time they had finished three LPs, they had established themselves as one of the most reliable live acts in the business, and had produced an underground classic in Do You Want More?!?!, an album that was less about singles, or even really about “rapping” so much as it was about a display of mood and outright skill. Unless you are part of their rabid fanbase or an educated hip hop head, it’s unlikely you could name a single song off of DYWM??!?!, and that’s kind of the beauty and the point of the classic album. It defies that kind of segmentation. The Roots were a movement, a culture, a sensation that no one really paid all that much attention to in terms of the HIP HOP they created.

With growing label problems and a bubbling controversy about the band’s dissatisfaction with their fanbase (i.e. they weren’t hip hop fans), the Roots spent two years creating Things Fall Apart (1999), their most critically praised and fully realized album to date. Starting out with a sample from Spike Lee’s Mo’ Better Blues, the dialogue between Denzel Washington and Wesley Snipes’ jazz musician characters about playing what the people want to hear, versus playing what the people should want to hear paved the way to a sober, ethereal album that was as much about reclaiming their hip hop essence, as it was about a meta-commentary on the band’s unsure future (which would turn darker later, after a heated label battle and group emcee Malik B.’s struggles with drug addiction and eventual departure and subsequent return to the collective). Borrowing its name from the African novel of the same name by author Chinua Achebe, a novel about a village torn between tradition and change, the Roots were pissed off and determined to set their own legacy straight in the eyes of not only their fanbase, but the growing fanbase of thug culture hip hop heads as well.
The result was an album that, for the first time in their history, eschewed the “band as DJ” hook that they had built their entire careers on. Bolstered by the Soulquarians Collective’s production style, ?uestlove and the group created soundscapes for Black Thought to construct rhymes over, locking in hooks and guest verses (Common, Mos Def, and the first appearance by Beanie Sigel) and creating a more traditional hip hop album, albeit from less traditional hip hop elements. The tone of the album was angry, but never dark; determined, but never overbearing, and overall, a breath of fresh air for both the genre, and for the group that had long tried to step fully into their role as pillars of the hip hop community.

I’m not sure what it says about the “band as DJ” hook for hip hop acts, when the Roots had to essentially make an album that sounded less like a band to become fully accepted into the community. Maybe it was just the time for them to create their classic album. It’s an interesting concept, hip hop artists utilizing a live band to create music that formed without the need for one; essentially, borrowing it from rock or funk and soul. And I’m not sure what to think about the fact that other than the Roots, I can’t think of a single hip hop act with a band that has achieved any kind of success (and if you say Linkin Park or Limp Bizkit, I will kill you). There’s no question that in the aftermath of Things Fall Apart, the Roots’ production style has become more layered and over-produced (in the good way). With every subsequent album, they sound less like a band and more like another hip hop act, even if they’re an insanely good one:

It’s an interesting thing to ponder: what happens when hip hop borrows back? In this case, Things Fall Apart is that rare balance between both ends where the Roots achieved some cosmic perfection that defies explanation. Enjoy it. It’s one of the best hip hop albums of all time, no matter how you try to categorize it.
Purchase The Roots’ Things Fall Apart on MP3!