Published on Oct 15, 1999
Coming off one of the last perceived, “dangerous” albums in the
last 20 years,
It Takes A Nation of Millions To Hold Us Back, Public Enemy
had to answer a lot of questions as the ninties were born.
Professor Griff, a key member of the band, was kicked out of the
band, reluctantly, after making anti-Semitic remarks. Gangsta rap
was quickly bum rushing suburban areas, threatening to dispel
Public Enemy’s claim to be the “toughest” rap act alive. And
finally, could they have the artistic clout to follow up one of the
most heralded albums of the eighties?
The stakes were high and
Fear Of A Black Planet more than lived up to its pre-release
hype. More importantly, it established itself as being one of the
musical cornerstones of this decade. Public Enemy’s musical version
of a B-2 bomber, The Bomb Squad layers guitar wails and record
scratches over the rally cry, “Brothers Gonna Work It Out,” a
perfect introduction for the next 50 minutes.
Playing out rap’s version of Mick Jagger and Keith Richards,
Flavor Flav and Chuck D take turns dominating an album full of
angry social commentary mixed with beats so slamming, you swear the
album was a party along the lines of Funkadelic’s
Maggot Brain.
Flav’s humor and Chuck D’s assault-rifle style of lyrical
bombast intersect often throughout “Fear.” Ambulance service in the
inner-cities gets fragged on “911 Is A Joke,” and Hollywood gets
railed for it’s portrait of minorities in “Burn Hollywood Burn.”
Both are hilarious, but the humor does not soften the hard hitting
message.
Public Enemy, during its heyday, meant to get under people’s
skin, and they succeeded. Just as the most liberal minded person
could agree with all of what Chuck D had to say, they crossed the
line sometimes, offending liberals as often as conservatives. On
“Meet the G That Killed Me,” Chuck fires off some homophobic rants.
But this time, the crass humor of the band sinks to a sophomoric
low.
Once again, Public Enemy shows that they have a diamond-sharp
focus in their beliefs, and no special interests are going to get
in the way of their message. But thankfully, much of
Fear Of A Black Planet aims to unify the races.
On the title track, PE takes a swipe at those who oppose
interracial relationships, especially marriage. And on “Can’t Do
Nothing For Ya Man,” Flava Flav, in full Dr. Seuss on crack
attitude, warns about trusting someone just because they share the
same skin color.
It’s hard to find specific highlights of
Fear Of A Black Planet, but if I had to pick one particular
shining moment, it would have to be the relentless track, “War At
33 1/3”. It’s not one of the more well-known tracks off of the
album, but it perfectly melds the beats of the Bomb Squad with
Chuck D’s powerful voice.
“Fight The Power” effectively closes
Fear Of A Black Planet. The most well-known song off of the
album, the song has a “power to the people” chant that encourages
even the most Republicanized frat boy to raise their fist in the
air. Too bad for some the song makes blatant slams at two
established American icons: John Wayne and Elvis Presley.
The album ends with a short blurb, featuring Chuck D telling a
reporter about the future of Public Enemy. In a sly gesture, that
question is answered on their next album,
Apocalypse 91: The Enemy Strikes Black. To many, that album
would be the last great Public Enemy album.
As rap was still an emerging artistic form,
Fear Of A Black Planet was one of the first albums that
confirmed art could be made out of this supposed “fad.” Almost two
decades later, it’s obvious to even the most jaded non-believer
that rap is definitely here to stay. Though it took a Public Enemy
shirt worn by Scott Ian of Anthrax to show me,
Fear Of A Black Planet was one of the first albums where I
rejoyed rap’s entrance into the last decade of this century.