I'm a record man.

Depending on your generation, you might ask what that means.  To clarify, I hail from an era where records were created with real work.  The more work you put into a record, the greater the potential for timeless music you could create.  And, your records would speak to the emotions, struggles, fears, concerns, joys & pains of the people.  The record might alleviate the pain of the day by allowing you to forget every worry and simply party; or it might talk you through something that you were dealing with.  And, the music was completely original.  And, if the songwriters, musicians and artists did their jobs correctly, a collection of these records would form an album.

Those were the days.

Earth, Wind & Fire (the greatest band of all time).  Parliament-Funkadelic.  Mother's Finest.  George Benson.  Prince.  Stevie Wonder (arguably the greatest songwriter of all time next to Smokey Robinson).  Rufus featuring Chaka Khan.  The Jacksons.  The Commodores.  The Ohio Players.  Cameo.  I can go on.  Know why?  I benefit directly from being born during that era, and I wouldn't have it any other way.  My mother would bring these records home, and I would study them.  Intensely.  I analyzed every song, every lyric and every instrument.  I scrutinized the artwork.  I read every credit to see who did what.  When I went to visit my father, he had the dopest record collection.  He would let me clean his records, test the needles on his record players, organize his 45 clips, etc.  He never let anybody touch those records, but he knew that I, like he, was a record man.  I knew the work that went into making these records; therefore, I had respect for the records.

I always knew I wanted to be in the music game.  I just didn't have any focus.  I practically abused every drum set my mother bought me with her hard-earned money.  I imagined writing great songs.  I just needed that fire to set everything off.  Then, one day in 1982, Michael Jackson released Thriller.  It was then I found my first hero: Quincy Jones.

See, I knew Quincy Jones' music from Off The Wall, Michael's prior release, and The Wiz.  But, I was only 9 years old when Thriller came out.  I had no real sense of the dude's stripes.  He played with Ray Charles, Count Basie and Dizzy Gillespie, just to name a select few.  He was producing records when he was simply regarding as having arranged them.  That's why I take great exception to a lot of beatmakers these days calling themselves producers.  Just because you made a beat does not mean you produced a record.  But, I digress.  Quincy produced the records by which all other records would be measured.  The richness of Quincy's music history strengthened my resolve to do my homework.

Six years later, in 1988, my life would change again.  Let me explain.  I don't remember "not having" Hip-Hop.  Whether you are talking about The Last Poets, Sugarhill Gang, Afrika Bambaataa and the Zulu Nation, Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five; it doesn't matter.  It seems like Hip-Hop had been with me my whole life.  We would spray paint graffiti on large pieces of cardboard and carry them to the parks or other neighborhoods and battle other crews.  God forbid you bit somebody else's move; all hell would break loose.  I quit playing drums and discovered the power of drum machines from my little brother, Char-Michael.  I had heard great-sounding Hip-Hop records from Grandmaster Flash and Whodini.  When I say great-sounding, I meant superb engineering for that era.  I defy you to pull out a Whodini record right now & tell me that shit doesn't bump.  Anyway, I had heard "Boyz N The Hood" from Eazy E, but I didn't put it together that the same producer worked on "Turn Off The Lights" by World Class Wreckin' Cru.  I simply didn't make the connection at the time.  Then, in 1988, NWA dropped Straight Outta Compton, and I discovered my second hero:  Dr. Dre.

Dr. Dre didn't simply produce records: he crafted Hip-Hop records at a molecular level.  That. Shit. Knocked.  It was a wrap for you or anybody else who was trying to compete.  That dude was a certified monster on the beats and the boards.

I live in Indiana.  I never really dealt with West Coast music like that because of our proximity to the East Coast.  Music from the East Coast was constantly being ushered to me.  But, NWA?  Gottdamn.  Seems like they came out of nowhere, at the time.  My brother and I couldn't quit playing the records.  They sounded so great.  We would try to remake the beats on our drum machines.  Man, those were good days.  Dr. Dre created Hip-Hop records like Quincy Jones created Pop records.  They both crafted great albums for artists.  Now, at this time, I started to really play at writing raps.  Only two people in my neighborhood would come to nurture this fire in me: my fellow Nightsons, Sho-Down and FoDoose.  I studied Rakim, KRS-One, Big Daddy Kane, etc. because they had a gift for enlightening yet entertaining wordplay that I longed to emulate.  Then, Dr. Dre produced an album for an artist that caused me to go full-throttle on lyrical composition:  The D.O.C.

Let me tell you something:  when a producer crafts an album for an artist, you have to have chemistry.  Chemistry is the only thing that separates timeless music from... the other shit.  Dr. Dre and The D.O.C. created No One Can Do It Better and changed my perception of record-making forever.  Pull that album out right now and tell me you don't agree.  Lyrics, music, sonic clarity, timeless composition.  Do yourself a favor and get that album on iTunes right now by clicking HERE.  After listening to this album, I put myself on the path to writing better songs in an attempt to make a great album.  If you were ever an aspiring artist, you did it, too: you had a notebook full of song titles, potential producers, guest appearances, artwork, credits, etc.  But, I'm in the middle of Indiana, which might be nowhere to you.  How would I achieve this vision?  Fuck it: I will do it for the hood.  Just like everybody else.

Now, you have to understand:  the Hip-Hop music business began to expand into a multibillion dollar industry over the next 10 years, and a lot of people got rich.  I saw LP's, 8-tracks & tapes go the way of the dinosaur from a consumer perspective.  I saw the market saturation of CD's from a multitude of artists who seemingly came out of nowhere at once.  I remember a time when a dope album came out every week.  Really.  But, something started to happen:  the music started to suffer.  Albums only had one or two records that I really liked while everything else was simply filler.  The cost of the CD's was astronomical.  A given artist would release a new record every fucking year.  Hip-Hop drove the Pop charts.  Now, during that period, we did have great records forming great albums like Ice Cube's first two solo albums, Amerikkka's Most Wanted and Death Certificate.  Dr. Dre's The Chronic.  Snoop Doggy Dogg's Doggystyle.  Anything from Redman (arguably Hip-Hop's most consistent MC next to Scarface).  Nas' Illmatic.  Jay-Z's Reasonable Doubt.  2Pac's Me Against The World.  I can go on, but you get my point.

Remember, I am a record man:  I want to put an album in my player and listen to it from beginning to end.  I want to remember the songs.  I want to bump the album when I'm driving around.  I want to play it 10 years from now and be able to say it holds up.  Dammit, this is the type of music I want to make!!!

Now, look at us:  nobody believes in the album market anymore.  Things are simply not what they used to be.  I applaud Jay-Z for not releasing American Gangster on iTunes because he believed in the album format.  Was there a commercial consequence for doing so?  Yes.  But, what can be done to make people believe in the format again?  How can one craft an album that is made up of great and entertaining records that will withstand the test of time?  I have heard it done recently: Reflection Eternal, Kanye West, Talib Kweli, Mos Def, Little Brother, The Roots & Rhymefest, to name a few.  Who is going to make this the point of contention for all music that comes out from this day forward?  Someone needs to conceive a project for this digital market that addresses these concerns.  How do you drive a singles-driven market to believe in the album format?  Who do you trust with this responsibility?

We are Nightsons.  This is THE HURT GAME.  The album is dead.  Long live the album.

Peace and blessings,

Shadowkat Nightson

CEO of Nightsons, LLC

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