Steve 'Flash' Juon“P-Dog with a gift from heaven
Tempo one sixteen point seven”
Sometimes the most memorable thing about a rap song can also be the most confusing. As a teenager who was pissed off about racism, Reaganomics and the Gulf War, Paris’ “The Devil Made Me Do It” was the right album at exactly the right time. He tapped into the angst of a young generation of Americans who were given empty promises by a power structure that had imprisoned or assassinated the revolutionaries of the 1960’s and 70’s. Instead of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, Republicans handed out false promises that didn’t improve the life of anyone of color trapped in poverty. “Nigga please, food stamps and free cheese can’t be the cure for a sick disease.” Paris was telling the truth to people who didn’t want to hear it on the title track, but that “tempo 116.7” line has lived rent free in my head for over half my life. Did he say it just to make it rhyme, or is there a deeper meaning to the number that I’ve never been able to decipher?
There’s no mystery to the rest of this presentation, including the fact that Oscar Jackson Jr. had an uphill struggle even getting heard. The original version of the album cover showing a black man being choked out by a cop was very prescient but made a lot of stores refuse to carry it. The revised art showed an intense Paris staring a hole through the camera, but the music video for “The Devil Made Me Do It” was also banned. I would have said MTV was scared of a militant black man who wouldn’t take shit from devils (white people) but they didn’t have a problem with X-Clan or Brand Nubian. Perhaps it was the imagery of police brutality, the sharply dressed black men in bow ties, or the fact Paris was openly advocating self defense for the oppressed. No matter the reason they weren’t having it and the fact the video still exists in any form today is amazing.
For a kid who was already steeped in the politics of Public Enemy, Boogie Down Productions, Ice Cube and the aforementioned Brand Nubian, nothing Paris had to say felt shocking. What made songs like “Break the Grip of Shame” stand out was the raspy panther-like growl of his vocals, the impressively dank bass of his self-produced track, the samples of Malcolm X and the fast turntable wizardry of Mad Mike. I don’t say this lightly — I think Paris scared white people and he liked it that way. Frankly I wouldn’t have it any other way. We need rappers who are this pissed off about the state of affairs in America, in the inner cities, in the ghettos and wards of every urban metropolis. Complacency hasn’t made things better and while I believe in voting it hasn’t changed a whole lot in my lifetime.
“With a raised fist I resist
I don’t burn, so don’t you dare riff
or step to me, I’m strong and black and proud
And for the bullshit I ain’t down”
What made “The Devil Made Me Do It” stand out then and now is that Paris was channeling his frustration and rage into dope rap songs. “You dumb motherfuckers just don’t know me/You don’t control me, so leave me lonely/Step and be prone to a cap to the dome/I don’t quit! {*bang*} I start tearing up shit.” While “The Hate That Hate Made” obliquely references an infamous documentary by name it’s only the starting line for Paris. The strident tone informs both his future career and this entire album. He’s not just giving hell back to those who gave it to the black community, he’s painting portraits with his words about why life is hell for the black man.
When Jackson does choose to slow down and be slightly calmer “on the jazz tip” of “Mellow Madness” he sounds like a California mixture of Big Daddy Kane and Lakim Shabazz. It shows his versatility and ability to make more than raps of righteous indignation, and also gives the underrated Mad Mike another chance to show off his turntable tricks. Even so there’s an undercurrent of tension to words like “Not down with the meaningless babble that some spit/I’m paid to degrade that ignorant shit.” Even a smooth Paris is still sharper than 95% of his contemporaries.
I won’t mince words here. “The Devil Made Me Do It” is a must own rap album. It’s the best and not coincidentally most commercially successful release of Paris’ catalogue, one which has continued to grow all the way to the present day. It’s almost unfair that he got so much right the first time out, setting a standard he’d be forced to chase for the rest of his life, but “tempo 116.7” remains an elusive notch on a turntable that I continue to look for thanks to him. If you want to nod your head, the beats prevail. If you want to feel the fury of a Panther, he’s tapped the main vein like no other brother. If you want a rapper who makes you see his world like you strapped on a VR helmet, Jackson is your man. If you’ve never heard this one you owe it to yourself to play the whole thing right here and now.