BREVITY IS THE SOUL OF WIT: EXPLORING THE LYRICAL GENIUS OF JALIL HUTCHINS: BROOKLYN'S ORIGINAL RAP KING BY SHELDON TAYLOR

 

Am I eternal or eternalist? Rakim's rhetorical reflection from 1988's Follow The Leader finds the God MC pondering his place in hip-hop history. While Ra's legacy is solidified, rap's historical highlight reel moves at the speed of light, omitting major players of the game.

Jalil Hutchins is one of those major players. Many don't know the name but they know at least one of the classics that sprang from his mighty pen and fertile mind that are part of the Great American Rap and Black Music Songbook. 

To put things in perspective; to all the outsiders reading this essay---think Gershwin and Berlin. For those in the know--- think Sly Stone. Smokey Robinson. Gamble and Huff. 

Many emcees had hot lines. Jalil had hot songs: "Friends". "One Love". "Freaks Come Out At Night". "Five Minutes of Funk". These songs inspired two decades of R&B and hip-hop samples, remakes, and interpolations. 

Go to whosampled.com and sip from Jalil's bottomless well of creative inspiration

My mother (now in her late eighties) remembers the Whodini catalog. Millenial/generation Z YouTubers continue to do the knowledge and come away spellbound by the group's pristine production quality, thoughtful plain-speak, and lyrical depth.  

During the early 2000s rap fans devoured 50 Cent and Lil Wayne's endless slew of freestyle mixtapes. In the streaming era, listeners inhaled Drake's run of 186 single releases. 

Emcees inspired by Biggie and Jay have copied their off-the-cuff method of studio creativity.

These things are all good but there is something special about quality over quantity and the art of being able to put pen to paper and end up emerging with classic material that will stand the test of time. 

For me, written words will always remain. Like a hieroglyphic. 

Make no mistake---Jalil is hip-hop’s greatest songwriter of all time or at minimum----one of a select few literary luminaries dotted along the rap galaxy. 

Undoubtedly he's rap’s premiere lyricist. Hip-hop soothsayer Melle Mel's string of apocalyptic anthems has never been duplicated, rivaled, or surpassed in content. On the other side of the compositional coin, his lyrical versatility is without peer.

When I say lyrical  I don't mean that corrupted term used to separate super-elite rhyming abilities from rap’s early party-time poetics and “lesser skilled” rappers---I'm referring to the quality of the written---not the spoken word.

During Whodini's run back in the early to mid-Eighties they turned the typical rap repertoire on its ear. Occasionally touting his “master rapper” persona---instead of mountain-top boasts of mic superiority ---Jalil's lethal weapon was his mind.

Back in '79 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five's "Super Rappin'" flaunted their ability to make "five emcees sound like one." Jalil would do the same thing absorbing future signature styles of rap artists who came after him into his writing.

Don't believe me? Take several emcees put'em in a line. Check  Ice Cube's thematic discipline and sardonic lyrical wit. Nas's flair for drama. KRS's spare bluntness. Ra's penchant for sloganeering catchphrases. 

All these signatures would show up in Jalil's writing first.

Criminally ignored, Jalil and his Whodini bandmates DJ Drew (Grandmaster Dee) Carter, partner John (Ecstasy) Fletcher along with producer Larry Smith have long been regulated to the sidelines. Their innovative contributions are rarely acknowledged in hip-hop history.

 One accomplishment stands tall above the group's many: Whodini gave rap music its very first platinum album with 1984’s Escape. 

Conceptually diverse and sonically advanced, it's rap's first legitimate album. At a time when R&B albums like "Thriller" had multiple single releases, Escape would do the same for rap music spinning off no less than five hit singles. 

 This was no project built around previously released hits or padded with filler and then camouflaged as an album. It wasn't a "soft" certification akin to other hip-hop records that might have “shipped” platinum. 

Despite the chronological misfortune of arriving seven years before Soundscan tracking of global and domestic sales Escape's hard numbers are a testament to the album's universal appeal that led to it exceeding gold-level sales typical with average rap albums.

Escape's success didn't require blatant crossover attempts or elaborate marketing schemes or inflated sales figures to win.

What does this all mean? Before rap albums ever passed through the platinum/multi-platinum portal or achieved diamond-level sales---Escape was the undisputed precursor to best-selling long-players Raising Hell (three million), Please Hammer Don’t Hurt ‘Em (ten million) The Chronic (three million) Life After Death (six million) The Score (six million) and The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill (seven million) and other future mega-selling releases.

In December 1985 Arista/Jive Records took out a promotional ad celebrating its tenth anniversary top-selling albums. Escape ("With over 900,000 copies sold Brooklyn's street wizards scored the biggest selling rap album ever") was listed among heavy-hitting labelmates Whitney Houston, Aretha Franklin, and Billy Ocean. 

Sales are just part of the story…..

Instead of abstract soliloquies (see De LA’s “Potholes On My Lawn”), agnostic shock value, and dense rap narratives (see Nas’s performance on Main Source’s “Live At The Barbecue” and his "Blaze A 50"), “fearified freestyles” (see Rakim’s “The Punisher” or “Lyrics of Fury”) or artillery-like alliteration (see G-Rap and Kane’s “Men At Work” or “Set It Off”), Jalil's leaned on his simplistic genius to get his message across.

In the hands of more linear rap talents, Jalil's compositional cornerstone “Friends”---inspired by personal experiences and  War’s 1975 hit “Why Can’t We Be Friends”----would either be sampled or converted into a cheesy remake using the hook.

Instead, Jalil would craft a song on par with choice selections from the Black Music Pantheon that would explore the dark side of relationships, paranoia, and betrayal like the O'Jay’s "Back Stabbers" (1971) and "Don't Call Me Brother" (1973) along with Undisputed Truth’s "Smiling Faces Sometimes" (1971) and Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes’ "Where Are All My Friends" (1974).

Before Rakim's arrival in '86, Jalil would demonstrate his own gift for written syncopation (“she shook your hand/and stole your man/it was done so sweet/it had to be a plan”). 

He also echoes Sly's gift for sly lyrical admonishment ( "you've been sitting much too long/there's a permanent crease in your right and wrong.") dipped in biting humor delivering lines like:

 "Couldn’t trust her with cheese/let alone your keys/with friends like that you don’t need enemies."

Jalil's masterpiece One Love recalls the poetic sentiment of 70s sweet soul groups like the Spinners and Blue Magic. 

It's a reflective rap ballad that would have been right at home in the Philly Soul or Motown catalog; torn from the wistful pages of Stylistics songwriter Linda Creed (“People Make The World Around” “Stop Look And Listen”) or Motor City poet Smokey Robinson’s ( "The Tracks of My Tears" and “I Second That Emotion”) songbook. Heartfelt contemplation opens up "One Love's" poetic  floodgates:

The words love and life both have four letters 

but they’re two different things altogether                            

Cause I liked many women in my day                                 

 but just like the wind, they’ve all blown away                   

 See to love someone is an atmosphere                            

 That you both still share when one’s not there….

 As he pens witty lyrics (“started roamin’ through the streets all day and night/I guess greedy best describes such an appetite”) laced with tried-and-true catchphrases (“its better to have loved than to never have loved at all”) partner Ecstasy brings his words to life, turning in a stellar vocal performance. 

Remorseful for showering his lady with material attention (“now I once had a love who left me cold/ I used to buy her everything from diamonds to gold"), Ex concedes to the fact his love as a ”definite blessin’” and a “definite lesson” and ends the verse with a masterful turn of phrase exemplifying Jalil’s poetic reach: “now I know what the Beatles were thinking of/ when they said that money can’t buy me love”

Jalil’s lyrical and conceptual reach is far; moving at the speed of light as he spins a tale of nocturnal nightclub voyeurism on "Freaks Come Out At Night"), dispenses motivational mother wit (“ Growing Up”) while taking on loose-lipped trolls ("Big Mouth") to task.

Lesser known jewels (and there are many) like introspective co-write (with Ecstasy) "Last Night (I Had A Long Talk With Myself") and the go-go-ish "Hooked On You" are so tightly crafted they could easily double as R&B records thanks to their catchy hooks, circular vocal refrains, and strong lyrics. 

Void of profanity, gun, and drug talk---Jalil's gifts seem to fall not just on deaf ears but blind eyes.

 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five’s "Freedom" (1979) is an excellent early example of the masterful execution and arrangement of vocals in a rap song. 

In terms of using key, pitch, and tone within the delivery of rap vocals to give songs a certain feel? No one did it better and more consistently than Whodini. 

Jalil didn't just write rhymes. He wrote songs. Using Ex's syrupy and liquid baritone as a reference point---he wrote songs in vocal keys that played off their yin-and-yang timbre and tone to perfection.

 In the cinematic "Fugitive" Ex sets things up with a pensive lead. Jalil provides a gritty counterpoint before his partner closes things out as the metaphoric credits roll. On "Big Mouth" his lyrics are ammo for Ex's machine gun flow that help give "Big Mouth" a mighty punch:

"They call you mouth almighty, tongue everlasting

  you ain't satisfied unless something's happnin'

  you don't have to be here but for no more than a minute

  but you always gotta have your two cents in it

  so far all you Big Mouths this jam's for you

  somethin' else you can go run tell your crew

  we made the beat big so we can rock the house

  but we also made it big enough to fit in your mouth!"

Post '82---the utopian "Planet Rock" and the "Message" provided rap acts with inspirational low-hanging conceptual fruit spinning off conceptual copycat records. Jalil didn't follow the crowd. Instead---he crafted a cinematic spin on hard-knock life: "Escape (I Need A Break)." 

 Across two verses, Jalil laments his manic world where he's overworked, underpaid, and appreciated. Caught in a web of unfulfillment, and demanding relationships, Jalil's lyrics push 'Escape (I Need A Break)" past the parameters of a typical rap song. Bigger picture---song is part of a continuum of Black music. It's part of the long list of songs in the R&B hit parade praising music's potent antidote for working-class woes.

 Listening to "Escape (I Need A Break)" brings to mind songs like the Gap Band's '79 "Shake" ("the rent is due/ but my loan ain't come through/got me a couple dollars/ guess what I'm gonna do") all the way to Beyonce's 2022 "Break My Soul" ("work at nine/off past five/damn they work my nerves that's why I can't sleep at night") hugging the curb of commonality.

Lodged somewhere in between--- every time I hear Jalil's rap equivalent ("somebody tell the DJ to play my song") it solidifies one thing: music soothes the ravaged peace.   

Jalil's impact in rap runs deep.

Before GZA wove industry imprints into a spell-binding tapestry (“Labels”) Jalil originated the conceptual technique with “Haunted House of Rock” way back in 1982. 

Decades before the current artificial intelligent fixations, he explored the 80s “man vs. machine” paranoia of technology and automation with “Rap Machine” (co-written with partner Ecstasy).  

“Rapper’s Delight” may have introduced many fans to rap music but Whodini's"Magic’s Wand" is the rhyme rollout that just may be NYC rap's proper primal introduction to the world.

On “Wand” Jalil transports the listener back to the joyful noise of Brooklyn block parties where deejays jam in the streets and emcees rock to the beat.

 By the second verse, he traces rap’s infinite origins (“well rappin’s always been around”) and party-rocking roots. Verse number three finds him citing mentor Mr. Magic’s impact on NY rap radio along with the influence of “Sugar Hill/Kurtis Blow/and Grandmaster Flash.”

 As naysayers diss rap (some say the rap's not happenin'), Jalil reminds them of "Rapper’s Delight's" runaway success ("triple platinum"). Running down rap’s real-time quantum leap in '82 (“rappin’ on the mic/has caught on strong”) he name-checks “Blondie, Stevie Wonder, Teena Marie”---it’s a clever lyrical wink that references three R&B and pop songs flirting with rap: “Rapture”(1981) “Do I Do”(1982) and “Square Biz”(1981). 

Part-tribute part-history lesson---Jalil’s documentarian narrative approach is a stroke of lyrical genius. 

Jay-Z, Biggie, and Big Daddy Kane's charismatic cool, potent explosiveness, and witty flamboyance have been hailed as symbols of Brooklyn's hip-hop dominance and influence.  

Before them, all was Brooklyn's Original Finest and Smooth Operator. All hail the king......