Run-D.M.C., "Raising Hell"
CJ unlaces his Adidas
CJ’s Pitch:
These were my guys.
As a metal kid whose only dalliances with rap were Grandmaster Flash and The Sugarhill Gang (And Blondie. Sort of, but not really.), I was blown away the first time I saw the video for “Rock Box”. Here were these two slick dudes and their DJ dressed head-to-toe in black leather rapping over a hard rock guitar track. It was revelatory.
The story goes that Joseph “Run” Simmons, Darryl “DMC” McDaniels and Jason “Jam Master Jay” Mizell were waiting for the heavy metal band Riot to finish their studio session so that Run-D.M.C. could get in and lay down some tracks. (Riot, not Quiet Riot. Sadly, Riot did not feel the noize or bang their heads with the same degree of success as their cousins in QR.) The trio was so taken with the power of the loud guitar that they decided to marry it with the rhymes they recorded. In doing so, they created the whole rap-rock genre and paved the way for legends such as the Beastie Boys, Red Hot Chili Peppers and Rage Against the Machine as well as unqualified disasters Limp Bizkit, Kid Rock and Korn. (Those last three weren’t Run-D.M.C.’s fault. Dirtbag America was responsible.)
Following the success of their debut album and its follow-up, King of Rock, Run-D.M.C. released what would become the first multi-platinum hip hop album ever, Raising Hell. This wasn’t just a record. It was a cultural phenomenon. Everything and everyone associated with Raising Hell carried weight beyond the music.
Take the album’s biggest hit, “Walk This Way.” Not only did the song breathe new life into the bloated corpse that was Aerosmith at the time, but it also unified two audiences that could charitably be described as standoffish toward each other. The video, which is probably among the top ten of all time, is one giant metaphor. Run-D.M.C. and Aerosmith are in different studios with a wall between them. When they start to play different versions of the same song Steven Tyler literally breaks down the barrier, allowing Run and Darryl to join him onstage for a fusion of the old Aerosmith tune as the rock audience goes wild. In that moment, hip hop went mainstream.
How about the other big banger, “It’s Tricky”? Is that the backbeat of The Knack’s “My Sharona” you hear running through this track? Yes, indeed. And do you detect a soupçon of Toni Basil’s “Mickey” in there as well? So, it is! It’s like Jay raided the tape collection of every suburban kid in the Lower 48. Do you know any man or woman between the ages of 40 and 60 who can’t come up with at least 80% of the lyrics to this song? I sure don’t.
Then there’s “My Adidas”. Run-D.M.C. dictated the new rap fashion with their basic black denim and leather, black fedoras and thick gold rope chains. But only three guys this def could take a lily-white tennis and soccer brand like Adidas and make it urban cool. The white Adidas with the black stripes (no laces, of course) became de rigueur in high schools across the country.
The title track is another rap rock standard that extols the duo’s superior mic skills. Run-D.M.C. are not shy about telling you how much better they are than any other rappers in the universe. Woe to you if you were a Sucker MC in the mid-to-late ‘80s. Run and Darryl would ferret you out and expose your weak-ass rhymes to a mocking public. Fortunately, this was before social media so the damage to your stage persona was considerably less.
I haven’t even mentioned “Peter Piper”, which is a rap tour through your favorite nursery rhymes and fairy tales wherein Rip van Winkle “fell the hell asleep”. Or the suis generis dis tracks “You Be Illin’” and “Dumb Girl”. All done with razor sharp wit and incisive lyrics.
Run-D.M.C. were pioneers. They consciously swam against the current to create music that successfully married disparate genres and, more importantly, got everyone’s ass—black and white—out on the dance floor.
It may be tricky to rock a rhyme, but it’s easy to save a place for Raising Hell on Newbury St.
Mitch’s Response:
In political science, the “horseshoe theory” posits that people with extreme political ideologies - whether far left or far right - actually share more beliefs than people with more moderate views.
Having our resident metalhead pitch Run-D.M.C.’s Raising Hell is a perfect example of the horseshoe theory in action. At first blush, no two musical genres seem further apart than metal and rap: white suburban ennui versus black urban struggle; instrumental proficiency versus production innovation; fantasy-infused lyrics versus raw, visceral poetry.
Then again, Raising Hell would be a perfect album title for Run-D.M.C., or Ronnie James Dio, or even Billy Joe Shaver, for that matter.
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I grew up in an Adidas household (my Dad worked for them for years and we only wore Adidas clothing growing up) so it was pretty awesome when “My Adidas” hit and my brother and I were suddenly cool on the streets (still ice cold in the sheets). Unfortunately for us, my Dad soon moved to Puma and we moved to Boston, and our b-boy days were over before they really had begun. But we always had this album on vinyl, so every song came back to me instantly while listening this week.
I’m only offended by two things on this incredible record. First and foremost, Steven Tyler’s plea to “give me some head” makes me gag every time, and the highly offensive “Dumb Girl” is an instant skip. Sadly, misogyny was always strong both in metal and rap.
The rest of the album is a tour-de-force, with a compelling and innovative production sound, and intoxicating hooks and riffs. It’s clever and hilarious (“You Be Illin’”, “Pied Piper”), deeply profound and meaningful (“Proud to Be Black”, “Son of Byford"), and appropriately boastful (“Is It Live”, ‘Hit It Run”, “Raising Hell”).
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It’s easy to praise Raising Hell for its cultural impact: a breakthrough cross-over album that brought together the disparate worlds of metal and rap. In retrospect, rap and metal were never that different to begin with - they were both high-energy forms of self-expression for young men struggling with masculinity in the wake of second-wave feminism. Cultural impact aside, I’m Raising Hell on Newbury St. because it’s a hell of an album, bursting with powerful songs, infectious beats, and brilliantly written rhymes.
Pitch Successful (All Day I Dream About Substack)
Ken’s Response:
I should start with a disclaimer: I don’t generally enjoy rap. I never listen to it. It wasn’t made for me (a suburban, privileged, white guy), and while I appreciate it for its societal impact and find a lot of it to be phenomenally poetic, aesthetically it’s not for me.
After listening to Raising Hell over the last week, I also listened to some more contemporary rap artists for comparison, like Snoop, Kanye West, and Kendrick Lamar. What I find interesting is the comparison between first-generation rockers like Elvis Presley, Carl Perkins, Chuck Berry and Jerry Lee Lewis, and first-generation rappers like Sugarhill Gang, Kurtis Blow, and this week’s artist, Run-D.M.C.
Most of the original rockers were making music that you could dance to, manufactured in the studio to be easy to dance to and have catchy lyrics. While the subject of those uncomplicated, catchy lyrics were far more “real life” for the original rappers, they were still fairly basic - a lot of 4/4 time and similar beats, and they were a blast to dance to.
The British Invasion of the sixties gave us more complex sounds, and bands started taking more risks with their lyrics and time signatures. In rap, bands like 2 Live Crew and NWA were making some of GenX’s greatest poetry and setting it to (musically) unusual beats, and even sampling rock and jazz licks to add layer after layer of complexity.
So that’s a lot of words to set up the fact that I didn’t enjoy listening to this album in the least bit this week. Even the cover of “Walk This Way” was extremely unpleasant. I found the whole album boring and a bit of a chore to endure. It was exactly how I feel listening to the oldies of the fifties.
I can’t, however, overlook the fact that this band and this album helped an entire genre of music cross over into mainstream culture. And that’s more than enough to earn it a spot in the Newbury St. Collection.
Pitch Successful (it’s not perfection, but it’s tricky)
CJ’s pitch was successful and Run-D.M.C.’s Raising Hell has been added to the Newbury St. Collection.
Whether you’re the king of rock or down with the king, walk this way to the comments section and let us know what you think about the Hollis Crew and their breakthrough album, Raising Hell.
Please join us next week as Mitch busts out his careless whisper with a pitch for George Michael’s Faith.
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