'Illmatic', Two Decades Later - Chris 'Preach' Smith

‘Poetry, that’s a part of me, retardedly bop
I drop the ancient manifested hip-hop straight off the block’
- ‘Memory Lane’, Nas

‘My soul has grown deep like the rivers.’
- ‘The Negro Speaks Of Rivers’, Langston Hughes


When I think of Illmatic and the fact that two whole
decades have passed since it first graced the world’s
ears today, I find myself both amazed and nostalgic.
It’s a remarkable milestone, not just for hip-hop, but
for music and popular culture as a whole. You can’t 
deny the impact Nas created with this album on so 
many levels. In preparing for this article this week,
I found myself being drawn to the line from Langston
Hughes’ iconic poem above with everything I read on
the anniversary. Why? Think of what comes to mind
whenever you listen to ‘Illmatic’ or someone brings
it up. Think of the descriptions. Deep. Serious. People
speak of the flow. And yet, we somehow keep finding
ourselves amazed at just how much symbolism Nas
embedded within this album years later.

I think any discussion of Illmatic warrants a closer
look at the time period that this album was released.
New York City in April 1994 was a city in a state of
wary transition. Rudy Giuliani was in his fourth month
as the newly elected mayor, and it was beginning to
become apparent just how much of a snake he was
going to be. Racial tensions were still not entirely
swept under the rug from three years before with
the violence in Crown Heights, and that led to Rudy
beating David Dinkins in the mayoral election avenging
his defeat in 1989. Another factor to that tension
was the fact that he won mainly by exploiting the
bad feelings of Staten Islanders who wanted to secede
from the city, giving him that borough and Queens.
Times Square wasn’t the pristine playground and
commercial zone we’re so accustomed to now. The
city was still very gritty with no pity. The NYPD got
buckwild under Bill Bratton once 1994 rolled around.
More innocent people were getting shot and killed 
by cops, dying in police custody, getting bagged for
minor offenses or stopped. (Side note: this is when
dime bag traps started popping up in subway stations.)
I remember seeing cruisers that much more around
the way, which was a startling sight for this part of
Southeast Queens. One figure that always popped up
was Sgt. McIntyre who seemed to make it a point to
run up on cats by the bodega or on one of the many
quiet blocks in the backstreets if there were more than
two hanging out. And other neighborhoods would 
feel that heavy police presence too…Queensbridge
especially. Which many expected because it was the
projects, and no one expected much from the projects
except crime and hip-hop, which the Bridge excelled
in.



Queensbridge is near the beginning of Queens and Long Island
for anyone driving over the 59th Street Bridge or taking the
7, N or Q trains from Manhattan. It sits there like a set of
undiscovered temples, tucked in between rows of trees and
warehouses overlooking the East River. Coming up in NYC,
we knew The Bridge for a few things. You may have had family
or friends live near there or in the houses. If you were playing
ball in the P.A.L. or any other youth league, you played against heads
from there or went there to play. If you were caught up in
the hustle, it was one of the biggest markets. And if you were
a fan of hip-hop, it is one of the holy sites of the culture.
The Queensbridge Houses are also this country’s largest public
housing project. All of this tucked away in a section of a city
that never sleeps. Bear in mind that The Bridge gets all of
this notoriety while isolated; they didn’t even have improved
subway access until 1989. Marley Marl, MC Shan and Roxanne
Shante and the rest of the Juice Crew helped firmly put the
place on the map.

By April ‘94, the battle with Boogie Down Productions was relegated
to history. New York hip-hop was beginning to transform
again. Back then, West Coast hip-hop was sticking to cats’
ears more and more thanks to Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg. 
‘New Jack Swing’ was still in effect via Heavy D and Uptown.
The Notorious B.I.G. would be causing a slight buzz thanks 
to ‘Party and Bullshit’, and the Wu-Tang Clan was still fresh
in many minds with Enter The 36 Chambers months before.
We all heard about Nas’s firebrand delivery thanks to THAT 
verse from fellow Queens natives Main Source’s ‘Live At 
The BBQ’ off of their debut album, Breaking Atoms. The 
stage was set for something new to accurately convey the
shifting landscape in a city that was trying to stifle its rugged
character and to also assert a voice in hip-hop that wasn’t
exactly all about the party. When Illmatic dropped, I can 
honestly say it was the fastest I’ve ever seen an album
spread around the city. Everywhere you went, someone was
bumping that album. Recent interviews talk about how 
Illmatic was heavily bootlegged. Take this into account -
1994 was the last year that you can recall people OPENLY
making a living off bootlegging. You used to cop bootlegs 
from certain newsstands in the city, or if you went to the
flea markets held in the off months at the Belmont and 
Aqueduct racetracks. You remember those, the tapes with
the grainy Xerox covers and the white ink that rubbed off
about a week in. This was the era where we still religiously
made pause tapes of radio sets, from DJ Red Alert to DJ 
Kid Capri. 


What Nas did with Illmatic was create a truly rapturous
and illuminating look at a part of Black life in ‘the hood 
that didn’t heavily lean on violence, drugs or sex even 
though all of that is in there. The album is potent and 
succinct. Part of me always wonders how the studio 
sessions went because Illmatic is only 10 songs. Only
ONE full-fledged guest appearance by A.Z. even though
Pete Rock and Q-Tip make their contributions via hooks
to ‘The World Is Yours’ and ‘One Love’. In today’s 
hip-hop scene, that would be blasphemous. The album
itself comes in under 40 minutes, perfect for any car
ride in the city. Think about this: ‘Halftime’ comes in
at the halfway point literally and figuratively when you
look at the time duration breakdown. That goes to show
how masterful the track sequencing was. Another 
example to that fact is how effortlessly ‘Halftime’ flows
into ‘Memory Lane’. It’s one of the most tranquil 
stretches of any hip-hop album on record; play that
out at a barbecue, house party and see just how the
mood changes. It’s as if Nas composed this in the park
by the houses overlooking the haze over the river on
a summer evening. 

Which leads me to the lyricism. The lyricism on Illmatic
is impeccable. Look at the first verse of ‘The World Is 
Yours’. It sounds effortless but is layered with imagery.
The first four lines alone are powerful:

I sip the Dom.P watching Gandhi ‘till I’m charged
then writing in my book of rhymes all the words past the margin
then hold the mic I’m throbbin’ mechanical movement
understandable smooth shit that murderers move with

Those four lines when you examine them speak to 
the duality of hustlers some of us came up with. Quite 
a few had ensconced themselves in Five Percenter teachings,
most notably the infamous Supreme Team from South
Jamaica who Nas shouts out on ‘Memory Lane’. Nas himself
was down with the Five Percent and even spits a line or two
influenced by Dr. Malachi York & the Nuwabians. Those 
teachings were highly present in the projects. That last
line? A throwback to the days when parties used to get
broken up during smooth selections, mainly tracks by 
Baby Huey, The Whispers or Billy Paul, by stick-up men.
And when you think about that first line…Gandhi is 
three hours long. So imagine how your state of mind is.
Plus it shows a link in terms of thought to the activist 
thinking displayed by Rakim and Public Enemy among 
others in their music to that date, providing a clear 
opposite to the creeping influence gangster rap was 
having. Jazz also plays a prominent role throughout 
Illmatic as well, from the magnetic album cover which
has been said to been inspired by the cover for  Child
Is Born by The Howard Hanger Trio to Nas’ own father,
Olu Dara. Even when you listen to it today, the album
has tinges of The Last Poets and Gil Scott Heron in it.
Not surprising since Nas’ childhood probably had him 
hearing their music still bumping on popular Black radio 
in the mid 1980’s. And these lyrics are coming from 
someone who dropped out of school in the eighth grade.
Yet he had the grounding to compose these poetic 
rhymes, to help craft such an important album. And we
can’t forget the production; Illmatic’s production is a 
treasure trove of American music from all eras. (The
mere fact that ‘Represent’ samples the theme song 
from ‘The Thief of Baghdad’ is staggering.) This is all
due to a legendary quartet that worked the boards in
Large Professor, DJ Premier, Q-Tip and Pete Rock. They
wove a vibrant frame around Nas’ words making each
song just sound better as the years pass.

Photo Credit: RapBasement

So twenty years later, we can honestly say that 
Illmatic and its impact is much like that of a river.
A river not unlike the East River just at the edge 
of the Queensbridge Houses. Throughout the Black
experience here and elsewhere in the diaspora, we
often look to the river as a metaphor. It embodies
every part of the soul one has not only to come from
where Nas came from, but where all of us come 
from. Unceasing, profound and yet, delivered and
observed simply. That’s how I look at Illmatic today.
Not many albums from that time can weather 20
years and still sound as rich, if not BETTER. As I’ve 
grown, Illmatic along with a couple of other choice
albums have been my wellspring for many reasons.
Every song fits as the soundtrack for one part or 
another of our lives. Illmatic flows, and speaks like
the rivers within us all. And more than likely will
for years to come. For that, I am grateful.