772. ‘Men in Black’, by Will Smith

The first half of 1997 was an interesting musical smorgasbord, with a quick turnover of number ones meaning we flitted gayly from genre to genre. During the second half of the year things will get slightly more predictable at the top of the charts, and records will start staying at #1 for slightly longer…

Men in Black, by Will Smith (his 1st and only solo #1)

4 weeks, from 10th August – 7th September 1997

Beginning with the year’s second big soundtrack hit. ‘Men in Black’ was the summer’s big popcorn movie, featuring Will Smith, Tommy Lee Jones and some aliens, which I thought I remembered fondly until I realised I was thinking of ‘Independence Day’, from the year before. I probably did see ‘Men in Black’ at the time, but it hasn’t remained with me.

The lyrics are geared towards the movie plot, which means unique lines like: Walk in shadow, Move in silence, Guard against extra-terrestrial violence… It reminds me of Partners in Kryme – one of the first hip-hop chart toppers – and their rhymes about which Teenage Ninja Turtle liked pizza (Michelangelo, of course). You could class this, and Puff Daddy’s ‘I’ll Be Missing You’ as a step back for hip-hop, after more innovative and respectable #1s by the Fugees and Coolio. But at the same time, this was a huge-selling, month-long number one, and another sign that rap had gone mainstream. (It was also, I believe, the first time that one hip-hop track had knocked another off top spot).

It’s based around ‘Forget Me Nots’, a minor hit in 1982 for Patrice Rushen. If it sounds familiar, then that’s because George Michael had sampled it a year earlier on ‘Fastlove’. The chorus was edited and sung by Coko, of the R&B group SWV, who really should have gotten a co-credit, so much does she bring to the show.

“Will Smith don’t have to cuss to sell records, but I do”, Eminem would famously rap a few years after this. It’s easy to be snobbish about Smith’s family-friendly approach to hip-hop (an NME review at the time labelled him the ‘Cliff Richard of rap’) but really, this is well-made, catchy pop. I don’t love it now, twenty-seven years on, but it was everywhere that summer, and was the #1 when I started high school. Plus the Bouncin’ with me, Slide with me… break is still great fun. File it under ‘fondly remembered’.

‘Men in Black’ was Will Smith’s debut solo single, featuring on his first solo album ‘Big Willie Style’ (tee-hee) and marked a return to music after he’d begun focusing on acting in the early-nineties. He has of course already featured at number one, as the Fresh Prince with Jazzy Jeff in 1993; while this song set him up for a good few years of chart success. He would have eight further Top 5 hits between now and 2005, including three #2s. Respect from the hip-hop community never quite arrived, but he had a great ear for a sample, and made some of the records that define the late-nineties for many people of my generation. He hasn’t released much new music since the mid-2000s, but remains one of Hollywood’s big hitters…

770. ‘I’ll Be Missing You’, by Puff Daddy & Faith Evans ft. 112

And so we meet the year’s third now-problematic chart-topper. I have to admit that I’m not quite up on what Sean Combs has/hasn’t been accused of*, while I think a lawyer would advise me to mention that he’s not been found guilty of anything. It seems, though, he’s quickly heading the way of R. Kelly and Michael Jackson.

I’ll Be Missing You, by Puff Daddy (his 1st of three #1s) & Faith Evans ft. 112

3 weeks, from 22nd June – 13th July 1997 / 3 weeks from 20th July – 10th August 1997 (6 weeks total)

Back in 1997, Combs was head of his own label, Bad Boy Records. He’d signed the rapper Notorious B.I.G., and had produced for acts like Usher, TLC, Mariah Carey, even Aretha Franklin. That March, B.I.G. had been shot dead just as Combs had been preparing his own debut album. ‘I’ll Be Missing You’ is a hastily-recorded tribute to his dead pal, featuring fellow Bad Boy artists 112, and Faith Evan’s (Biggie’s widow).

So, on the one hand, it feels churlish to criticise a tribute to a recently deceased man. On the other… there’s just so much to criticise. Reviews at the time called it ‘maudlin’, and ‘turgid’, and it’s hard to disagree. The lyrics – which I once knew word-for-word – are extremely clunky. It’s kinda hard with you not around, Know you’re in heaven smiling down… Watchin’ us while we pray for you, Every day we pray for you…

It’s main hook is that it’s based around ‘Every Breath You Take’, by The Police, as well as the hymn ‘I’ll Fly Away’. In earlier posts I bemoaned not knowing the difference between a sample and an interpolation, so imagine my joy to discover that ‘I’ll Be Missing You’ features both! So blatant is it that Sting and Co., who hadn’t been asked permission, sued for 100% of the royalties (and won).

The clear highlight of this saccharine number is Evans, whose voice soars above the sentimentalism, especially in her middle-eight: Somebody tell me why… Other than that, it is catchy, and it is heartfelt. But I can’t help but see something cynical in the way it goes for the heartstrings so remorselessly. It reminds me of Wiz Khalifa’s ‘See You Again’, another rap/pop crossover about a dead man, which I think is one of the sickliest pieces of music ever recorded (sorry, spoilers, but it’s a while before we’ll come to it…)

Thing is, though, I loved this song as an eleven year old. Like I said, I knew all the words. If I’d been eleven when ‘See You Again’ came out, I’d probably have felt the same about it. But that’s the song’s problem: it lacks nuance, depth, and relies too much on simplistic lyrics about turning back the hands of time, and living life after death. If this record helps a kid process their emotions following a loved one’s death, then great. But as an adult I would need something a little more substantial.

Though maybe I’m in the minority on this, as ‘I’ll Be Missing You’ stayed at number one for six weeks in total (an impressive feat, as chart turnover was ever increasing) and would have been 1997’s biggest-seller, if it weren’t for the small matter of the most succesful record ever released coming along a few weeks later: another tribute to a dead person. It remains the 23rd highest-selling record in the UK, and the country’s biggest-ever hip-hop song. Sean Combs, AKA Puff Daddy, AKA P. Diddy, AKA Diddy (I believe he’s the only artist to have topped the charts under three different stage names) will return to this countdown eventually, though with nothing resembling the success of his first big hit.

*Long before the current accusations against him, there was a rumour that Diddy had put the hit out on the Notorious B.I.G. himself.

759. ‘Ain’t Nobody’, by LL Cool J

Five weeks into 1997, and we’ve had five different number ones (if you count ‘2 Become 1’, leftover from the year before). Dance, indie, rock, and now…

Ain’t Nobody, by LL Cool J (his 1st and only #1)

1 week, from 2nd – 9th February 1997

One of hip-hops OGs. Ladies Love Cool James, or just LL Cool J to his friends. I’m the best when it comes to making love all night… LL announces in this record’s opening lines… Go deep till the full moon turns to sunlight… before commencing on a four-minute rap Kama Sutra, full of lines about bodies intertwining, animal attraction, all that jazz.

It’s based around ‘80s classic ‘Ain’t Nobody’, and I did wonder if it was a full-blown sample, meaning that Chaka Khan could grab a second #1 by association. But no, it’s an interpolation (one day I’ll have to work out the difference). The chorus is sung by an uncredited lady, who doesn’t have Chaka’s pipes, but LL does a neat little reference to ‘I Feel for You’, as he freestyles towards the end.

I’ve talked for a long time about hip-hop gradually coming of age, especially in recent years with hits from Coolio and the Fugees. I’d add this one to the pile. The rapping is tighter, faster, and obsessed with sex. Still no swearing (the Outhere Brothers remain an outlier), though we’re slowly getting saucier: see the lines above, as well as treats like I’m exploring your body and your erogenous zones, Like a black tiger caged up till you come home… And I’m sure he didn’t mean it, but the refrain of You can take it girl, Stop runnin’, Uh… sure does sound a bit dubious to today’s ears.

Other than that, the sample (sorry, interpolation!) works well. I don’t love the song as a whole, and it’s not a patch on the original, but wouldn’t leave the dancefloor if it came on. Plus it sounds like a modern pop song, once again, furthering my argument that late ’96 / early ’97 marked one of those shifts that pop music goes through every decade or so.

This record, standard 90s hip-hop that it is, came from the unlikely source of the soundtrack to ‘Beavis and Butt-head Do America’, which I haven’t seen, and cannot imagine how it fits into the plot. The ‘B’-side was called ‘Come to Butt-head’, which seems much more appropriate.

Despite rap still being a relatively new chart-topping genre, LL Cool J had been around since the early ‘80s, which is seriously early in hip-hop terms. ‘I Need Love’, his slow-jam from 1987, was one of the first fully-rapped songs to be a chart hit in the UK, reaching #8 (meaning LL had a UK Top 10 several years before he managed one on the Billboard 100). ‘Ain’t Nobody’ was his third, and it set him up for a decade’s worth of regular hit making. And before I go, I’ll give a shout out to one of his other 1997 hits, which should have been the #1, ‘the frenetically funky ‘Phenomenon’.

745. ‘Ready or Not’, by The Fugees

I first proposed the existence of ‘shadow #1s’ way back at the start of this blog when covering Frankie Laine’s ‘Hey Joe’, which had made top spot shortly after his mega-hit ‘I Believe’ (the song that still holds the record for weeks at number one). ‘Hey Joe’ was a zany, whip-crackin’ country ditty, a world away from the spiritual ‘I Believe’, and I suggested that the reflected glow of the earlier hit had paved the way for the follow-up.

Ready or Not, by The Fugees (their 2nd and final #1)

2 weeks, from 15th – 29th September 1996

It’s a phenomenon we’ve seen repeated a few times. ‘Baby Jump’ by Mungo Jerry springs to mind as one of the most obvious. ‘Shadow #1s’ don’t even have to follow a chart-topper, as both Alvin Stardust and a-Ha achieved their only number ones after their much more famous number twos… All of which is my long-winded way of introducing ‘Ready or Not’, one of the ultimate shadow #1s…

I tried to claim that The Fugees earlier cover of ‘Killing Me Softly’ was hip-hop’s big arrival as a chart force. But actually, this is the moment. This is no funky cover of a seventies classic; this is uncompromising rap. (Though it is built around a very distinctive, very haunting sample from Enya, so I suppose it does have some mum-friendly credentials.) Like Peter Andre’s ‘Flava’, which was a particularly modern sounding pop song, this is modern rap – East Coast rap, apparently, though I’m not qualified to clarify what that actually means – and could have been a credible chart-topper anytime between 1996 and now.

It still makes use of Lauryn Hill’s amazing voice, in the chorus, but while she sang angelically on ‘Killing Me Softly’, her voice now drips with deadpan attitude. Ready or not, Here I come, You can’t hide… Around this, each of the three MCs take turns telling us how the Fugees are poised for world domination. I like Hill’s alliterative voodoo line, as well as: While you’re imitating Al Capone, I’ll be Nina Simone, And defecating on your microphone… But perhaps the most important verse is Pras Michel’s, which focuses on the group’s immigrant background: I refugee from Guantanamo Bay, Dance around the border like Cassius Clay… (the band name is, after all, short for ‘Refugees’).

Although uncompromising, this isn’t gangsta rap. Hill’s verse even calls out stereotypical rappers: Frontin’ n*ggas give me heebeejeebees… Enya threatened to sue the trio for sampling ‘Boadicea’ before she realised that the lyrics went deeper than just guns and pimping. (Although, while there’s no swearing, there is the above-mentioned debut appearance of the n-word in a UK #1.) Meanwhile, though it isn’t strictly a sample, the chorus is heavily based around the Delfonic’s ‘Ready or Not Here I Come (Can’t Hide from Love)’, a minor hit in 1969.

In calling this a ‘shadow #1’, I don’t mean to suggest that this doesn’t have musical merit. The verses are impressive both lyrically and in the way they are delivered, while the use of ‘Boadicea’ is one of the all-time great samples (so effective that this won’t be its only appearance in a number one single…) There was also the small matter of a multi-million dollar video featuring submarines, sharks and helicopters to promote it. But no, all that aside, this is an impressive and important song, and I say that as someone with a fairly low tolerance for rap.

The Fugees weren’t together for long after their chart-topping summer of ‘96, with the members moving on to solo projects by the following year. All three will have their own hits, but only Wyclef Jean will feature on another #1. Lauryn Hill has had the most interesting post-Fugees career, involving both charity work and other philanthropic endeavours, jail time for tax fraud, as well as the small matter of eight Grammy awards and the title of ‘Greatest Female Rapper’. The group have reunited twice over the years.

741. ‘Killing Me Softly’, by The Fugees

I was ready to lead this post with a ‘hip-hop goes mainstream’ headline, twinning it with the success of ‘Gangsta’s Paradise’ a few months before…

Killing Me Softly, by The Fugees (their 1st of two #1s)

4 weeks, from 2nd – 30th June 1996/ 1 week, from 7th – 14th July 1996 (5 weeks total)

But listening to the Fugees’ cover of ‘Killing Me Softly’ now – even though it holds the title of the UK’s ‘best-selling hip-hop single of all time (by a group)’ – there isn’t all that much hip, or hop.

The intro is a beautifully sung a cappella version of the chorus – the whole song is similarly well sung by Lauryn Hill – and even though a simple hip-hop beat comes in soon after, and Hill’s bandmates Wyclef Jean and Pras Michel throw in some adlibs, this is not a gangsta rap revolution. Your mum could have quite happily heard this on the car radio without reaching for the dial in horror.

Which is presumably why this song went on to be the highest seller of 1996, to this day remaining in the all-time Top 50. It is also a cover of a much loved classic, Roberta Flack’s version having made #6 (and #1 on the Billboard chart) in 1973. Flack’s wasn’t the original though (something I just found out today) as Lori Liebermann had recorded a version the year before, with her two song-writing partners Charles Fox and Norman Gimbel. There have been lawsuits and recriminations over which of them dreamed up the song’s concept, and the lyrics, but it’s generally agreed that the subject of the song – the man killing the singer softly with his words – is Don McLean.

A record as great as this will have moments in particular that stand out, and I love the twangy sitars that chop up the verses, and the way Hill pronounces ‘boy’ as ‘bwoi’. But the beauty here is mainly in the song’s simplicity, in the way that they allow the raw and very personal lyrics to stand out, much as they do in the earlier versions. The way that the woman listening to the unnamed singer has an almost sexual reaction to hearing his music: I prayed that he would finish, But he just kept right on…

This may be hip-hop lite, but at the same time it is undeniable that this was the moment when the genre was going mainstream in Britain. More and more rap #1s are coming up, including one much less radio-friendly one from the Fugees themselves. Perhaps that’s the way it had to be – hip-hop in through the back door, covering easy-listening classics, persuading suburban mums to buy the album… I can imagine many shocked faces in the summer of 1996 when people realised that this pop classic was a bit of an outlier in the Fugees’ canon.

The Fugees were a trio from New Jersey (Jean and Michel were of Haitian origin) who had been together since 1990, and recording since 1993. Their first album hadn’t much troubled the charts, and so this record was their breakthrough smash. Interestingly, the strange Billboard rules of the time meant that neither this nor any of their subsequent hits actually charted in the US, as they were only released to airplay. In any case, it still made #1 in twenty-one countries around the world.

I won’t delve into the Fugees’ subsequent careers, and varying levels of fame and infamy, just yet, as they have that aforementioned second #1 to come very soon. But I will linger here a moment more, as this really is one of the great ‘90s chart-toppers. The fact that I cannot listen to either of the earlier versions without wanting to add the ad-libs from this one is testament to that. ‘Killing Me Softly’ did a dance with ‘Three Lions’ at #1, meaning that it is one of only two singles to knock the same song off top spot twice. Not ‘one time’, but ‘two times’… See what I did there?

729. ‘Gangsta’s Paradise’, by Coolio ft. LV

Although 1995 is turning out to be a fairly – let’s be blunt – crap year for number one singles, it’s also turning out to be a year of firsts at the top of the charts.

Gangsta’s Paradise, by Coolio ft. LV (their 1st and only #1s)

2 weeks, from 22nd October – 5th November 1995

We’ve had our first Britpop #1s, as well as our first ‘Explicit Warning’ chart-toppers. You could also argue that Robson & Jerome, with Simon Cowell as mastermind, heralded the start of the ‘TV personality as pop star’ age, which will dominate the next twenty years of British pop music. And as we draw towards the year’s end, here comes our first proper rap #1.

We’ve had plenty of hip-hop at #1 before this: Vanilla Ice, Partners in Kryme, Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince… Throw in the Simpsons, and John Barnes, and it’s clear that rap has struggled to be seen as much more than a novelty. Until now, for this is uncompromising hip-hop: undiluted, comfortable in its own skin, not softening its edges in looking for widespread appeal.

Coolio weaves a tale of life on the streets, a life of drugs and violence that often leads to death: You better watch how you talkin’, And where you walkin’, Or you and your homies might be lined in chalk… In it, the singer both recognises his situation: Why are we, So blind to see, That the ones we hurt, Are you and me…? and sees no way out: They say I gotta learn, But nobody’s here to teach me, If they can’t understand it, How can they reach me?

Heavy stuff, but it’s lifted to classic status by one of the all-time great samples. Stevie Wonder’s ‘Pastime Paradise’ provides a compelling, propulsive melody around which Coolio tells the story. LV, who sings the chorus, changes ‘Pastime’ to ‘Gangsta’, while a gospel choir provides the finishing touch.

The record’s authenticity must have struck a chord, as it became the UK’s highest-selling hip-hop record in fairly short order (today it sits well inside the Top 50 highest-selling singles in British chart history). It featured on the soundtrack to the Michelle Pfeiffer film ‘Dangerous Minds’ – Pfeiffer also appears in the video – which may have helped in its success. But probably not to the extent that the song wouldn’t have been a hit without it.

I’ve called this the first ‘proper’, ‘modern’ rap #1, but I’ve been reluctant to call it the first ‘gangsta’ rap number one. Mainly because the word is literally there, in the song’s title, and it feels slightly lazy. Plus, while the song’s themes may be pretty gangsta, the lyrics are all quite PG. They weren’t originally, however – Coolio had written a much more explicit version, but Stevie Wonder refused to sanction the sample until he cleaned it up.

Swears or no swears, this is a brilliant song, one of the best that 1995, if not the entire decade, has to offer. I also realised, while writing this post, how many of the lyrics I could remember. I certainly wasn’t rapping along at the time, so they must have entered my brain through cultural osmosis over the years – always a sign of a song’s classic status. Coolio went on to have three more Top 10 hits, including ‘C U When U Get There’, which has an equally famous ‘sample’. And of course, just as importantly for people of my vintage, he recorded the ‘Keenan & Kel’ theme song. He died following an overdose two years ago, aged just fifty-nine.