Phife Dawg, Forever Flawless - Chris "Preach" Smith

“Cuz where I come from quality is job one
 And everybody up on Linden know we get the job done”

I don’t think I can ever get used to hearing bad news
in the morning. It’s an unfortunate, but all too true part
of life. And this morning ranked among them, because 
I got the news that Phife Dawg, the Five Foot Assassin
and one-fourth of Queens’ own A Tribe Called Quest, left
this world. The cause wasn’t reported, but I and many of
us could figure that he just needed to rest. As I went on
throughout my day, winding through the neighborhood
I grew up in and still call home, here and there I could 
hear different ATCQ tracks being played. From cars, from
storefronts. Right now, as I’m typing this, the New York
Knicks are beating down the Chicago Bulls and the MSG
Network has been playing Tribe instrumentals at certain
breaks. I’d like to think Phife is up top enjoying the win,
but he’s also probably asking where was all of that finesse
earlier in the season.(And if you thought of the classic end
to his verse on “Problems”, you get some dap.)

Losing Phife Dawg is in some ways, losing another part of 
the New York City that made me and many others. New 
York City, and Queens for that matter. So much about the
city has changed, and not entirely for the better. The area
of Saint Albans is still standing strong, although a good deal
of people have made their way “down South” to Maryland,
Florida and other places because of rising prices and the 
city getting entirely too hectic. The Coliseum Mall, a place 
that Phife would hit up for kicks, is now empty and waiting
to be a real estate broker’s science experiment. Even though
Phife had relocated to Atlanta years ago, Queens was always
a part of him no matter where he went. That’s what we all
loved about him - he was the cat we’d see jawing with the
homies by the ball court waiting to get next or just chilling.
Phife was an everyday cat to us. Even as Tribe entered the 
rap scene with a distinct Afrocentric air that bordered on what
some would call “hippie”, Phife was the one dude who you
could see coming at someone’s neck either in a battle or 
on the corner.

Think about it - a lot of folks focused on Q-Tip for various 
reasons, but Phife not only held his own, he was equal to
Tip. THAT is what composed the core dynamic of ATCQ. It’s
more evident now mainly because of Phife’s lyricism which
made him one of the most charismatic in the game. I used
to get into a debate here and there with folks who felt that 
he was just “aight”. To me, Phife was one of the most versatile
lyricists from the “Golden Era”. He had the friendly, easy tone
that one finds with the great radio disk jockeys like Mr. Magic.
But you better believe he could SNAP on a track, earning
that Five Foot Assassin title with ease. There’s a bunch of
examples you can point to. His opening bars on “Buggin’ Out.”
The rapid-fire verse on the frenetic but harmonious “Lyrics
To Go”. The fact that he had arguably the BEST verse on a track
with Tip, Redman AND Busta Rhymes, that track being “Stepping
It Up” from ATCQ’s last album, The Love Movement. Even his
tracks as a solo artist had weight - if you haven’t had the chance
to, go listen to his Ventilation LP. It’s an album that didn’t get
the exposure it should’ve, and its a shame because it’s a solid
effort. 

Phife Dawg made an impact because he was also a visionary in
his own right. A sports fanatic who could never be seen without
a fitted or some sort of jersey, he was a connecting bridge between
that world and hip-hop culture and as a result, popular culture.
He parlayed that into doing some reporting on college basketball
and even scouting for different prep schools when not in the studio.
He also had a flair for tapping into pop culture with his rhymes
(who could forget the “Seaman’s furniture” line from Electric 
Relaxation”) and could also pepper his lyrics with patois that 
honored his Trinidadian roots and further bolstered his ties to an
area of the city that boasts a heavy Caribbean population. His 
visionary spirit also lay in his friendship and collaboration with
the late J Dilla, which would continue with another hit single in
tribute to the producer, “Dear Dilla”. He even had production on
that same Ventilation album from Hi-Tek and Supa Dave West
just before they both got major shine working with Talib Kweli.



So…I choose to remember Phife Dawg with joy and abandon.
I choose to remember him for what he meant and still means
to me, Linden Boulevard, Queens, New York City and the world. 
What right do I have to really, truly mourn too long for someone
who made his presence known so emphatically, but still managed
to be an affable and humble dude to everyone who crossed his
path. As much as there’s some pain in realizing that you’ll never
see him bounce on stage and spit fire into the mic again, can a
spirit like that ever really leave us? The man went through a serious
fight with diabetes and had to have a kidney transplant. Yet and
still, he kept on living and rhyming, doing it his way. I choose to
remember Malik “Phife Dawg” Taylor as an inspiration. Hearing
his words pour out of a boombox in a bodega, seeing so many
ESPN shows pay homage to him - that’s the mark of someone
who was supremely and utterly flawless with his. And that’s
something that will live on in our hearts and in hip-hop.

Rest well, Phife.