“De La Soul… of the soul… Black medallions, no gold.”
It’s difficult to put into words the exact level of joy that many fans of seminal and seminal hip-hop act De La Soul feel today when the group’s back catalog of songs is finally released to streaming platforms after decades of effectively zero access becomes. It’s also a challenge to express how bittersweet this is given the recent death Dave “Trugoy” Jolicoeurjust days before De La’s music was digitally revived.
Or maybe? The resurrection of De La’s back catalog so close to his death is… kind of perfect.
Hip-hop culture currently defines American — if not global — youth culture. And De La Soul’s influence on his development during his infancy has been criminally overlooked, in part due to the inaccessibility of their first four albums.
You see, their pioneering approach to sampling – from the Turtles to Johnny Cash and Steely Dan’s “Peg” to Schoolhouse Rock’s “The Magic Number” – and their record label’s lack of licensing savvy meant their groundbreaking albums remained unavailable for decades . Not just on streaming platforms. Cassettes, vinyl or CDs have not been found for far too long. As a result, her work has been erased from the history of hip hop and music in general so many times. It was a crime against humanity.
It’s hard to explain why De La Soul was such an important and pioneering group, but “difficult preaching was Posdnuo’s delight,” so allow me to do my best.
De La broke out in hip-hop’s early years just after it got really serious and way smarter than rocking a block party. For me, KRS One taught about how “knowledge came first” and Chuck D rapped about fighting the power out of the terror dome, then De La came out and rapped about the DAISY age. No, it wasn’t a hippie thing; it was “Da Inna Sound Y’all,” and her lyrics were like zen koans mixed with goofy comedic observations and horny asides from young men in their late teens to early 20s.
They were at the forefront of what some called “positive rap,” at least for a short time, and formed a collective of like-minded groups including A Tribe Called Quest, Jungle Brothers and Queen Latifah, among others.
Back then, De La Soul almost satirized the materialistic paraphernalia of clichéd rappers. They poked fun at overspending on gold dookie chains, which they eschewed for a more Afro-centric style that became boho-standard in the early ’90s.
They were from Amityville, Long Island, and they were proud of it, but their perspective wasn’t quite suburban. Yes, they had trees in their backyard, but they also had potholes in their lawns. More inventive in their own way than almost anyone else in rap music at the time, they opened intellectual doors to a remarkably diverse group of fans.
Their first record, Three Feet High and Rising, was named after a Johnny Cash sample featured on the record. It was very popular, but the daisy theme was misinterpreted by many as a silly “flower power” thing. Her second record was titled De La Soul is Dead and featured dead flowers on the cover. Buhloone Mindstate was their third album and my favorite, followed by Stakes is Hight, produced by a pioneering music producer J Dilla. These recordings are now all available for streaming.
Over the past few years, I’ve started making “must read” playlists on Spotify for my sons to get to know specific artists. Marvin Gaye, Radiohead, Stevie Wonder, Nick Drake, The Beach Boys and REM have all received this treatment. And now, today? I can show you my required reading: De La Soul playlist, which you can also check out below.
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