Arabian Prince

There is no Hip Hop Genome Project. No scientists in lab coats examining the contents of mix tapes; no geneticists pouring beats from beaker to beaker; or pipe-smoking socialites discussing the necessities of "Bring the Noize." But fortunately, there is Stones Throw Records, the closest thing to a hip-hop think tank created by DJ and veritable vinyl archivist, Peanut Butter Wolf. The latest exhibit in the Stone's Throw catalog is Arabian Prince, the one-time N.W.A. member and West Coast electro progenitor.

Innovative Life: The Anthology, 1984-1989, explores Arabian Prince's career from his Afrika-Bambaataa-meets-nursery-rhyme raps to his fast paced bass droppers that presage the 1988 hit he produced for J.J. Fad, "Supersonic." It was the 1980's, and Arabian Prince was the king of West Coast party crews. From the time of fades and neon shades, Arabian Prince's focus was stoking the party, suggesting an evening with a lady, and possibly recommending one to move her body in a rhythmic motion. In "Let's Hit the Beach," Arabian Prince espouses the benefits of being by the ocean, "[where one could] Look for bikinis and beg for more." The joie d’vivre of West Coast living emerges in "The Strange Life," in which Arabian Prince encourages freedom of expression—"Like an 80-year old woman trying to do a strip tease."

Like with most rap and hip hop, Arabian Prince's electro style was built by salvaging pieces from other songs and reassembling them into new ones. Because of this musical recycling, much of rap, hip hop and electronica can be traced to a single drum beat. Entire genres evolved from a singular drum pattern: the alpha beat. Drum n' Bass, breakbeats, and even N.W.A's "Straight Outta Compton" can trace their lineage to the "Amen break," a five-second drum break from a 1960's funk song by The Winstons, entitled "Amen, Brother." But for Arabian Prince's brand of electro rap, the popular hyperkinetic hip-hop form preceding gangsta rap, the alpha beat finds its roots in Germany.

It may be hard to believe that the Raider jacket-wearing fellas from N.W.A. took their influence from stoic Germans, but the minimalist synth-poppers Kraftwerk laid the foundation for West Coast rap. Afrika Bambaata first (illegally) sampled Kraftwerk's "Numbers" and "Trans Europe Express" in 1982 and (arguably) forged the hip hop genre with the album Planet Rock. Later Arabian Prince dipped into this well, unleashing the boom-bap-boom-boom-bap drums gleaned from the house that Kraftwerk built.

Arabian Prince's music sounds so innocent today, dishing out party-themed, booty bouncers. It came of from the end of Studio 54 into the Reagan Era, where the party spilled out from the clubs and into the streets. Then, as late 80s rushed in, drugs and gangs changed the streets of Compton. The undeniable gravity of gangsta rap took hold of the West Coast and the world. People were dying on the streets and electro went with them.

At the beginning of the new millennium, electro was (momentarily) resuscitated, from Peaches and M.I.A. to Britney Spears and Fergie (whose "Fergalicious" samples "Supersonic"). Yet, their nostalgic, somewhat ironic references missed out on the genuineness of Arabian Prince's backyard party anthems. In the innocence of the keyboard hook, roll of the endless beat, and shake of earthquake bass, Arabian Prince doesn’t ask you to dance, he demands it. As he says in N.W.A's "Panic Zone:"

"Don't be afraid, just bust a move."

—Drew Tewksbury
08.25.08

An overdue overview that is era-specific instead of career-spanning, Innovative Life compiles several Arabian Prince productions originally released in the 12" format on Rapsur, Street Kut, and Techno Kut, along with the fruit of a dalliance with the early N.W.A. As detailed in the phenomenal liner notes, this disc sheds a spotlight not just on Arabian Prince but the West Coast, which tends to get a very short shrift throughout coverage of electro and pre-gangsta-era hip-hop. Not all of the content here is gold -- "Strange Life," the first single, is a limp curiosity, recorded with musicians who knew much more about Poco than P-Funk -- but plenty of it rates with any of Arabian's Kraftwerk/Bambaataa-spawned brethren on the East Coast, not to mention his fellow L.A. scene running mate, Egyptian Lover. All the ingredients of classic electro are present -- the bounding machine beats, synthesizers set to either "paranoid" or "assault," cyborg vocals, wordplay that switches from the sci-fi-obsessed to the playfully (rather than crudely) lecherous. (The timeline here cuts off just before Arabian cut "It's Time to Bone.") The most noteworthy missing track would be J.J. Fad's "Supersonic," easily the most well-known Arabian production, but anyone around at the time of its release can likely replay it in his or her head from start to finish. ~ Andy Kellman, All Music Guide