I’m back at ‘er today with a 60 minute Interval pyramid spin session at the gym’s spin studio. I could just as easily do them at home on my trainer I guess but, I enjoy the whole getting out and being distraction free from the phone, email, etc. Besides, I have to keep tabs on the intricate parking lot social scene at the Fort Erie YMCA. Will the squirrels win their battle against the seagulls in the war over discarded protein bar bits? Will that old lady in the Mercury ever manage a simply two-point turn out of her parking space? Will the old guy on the bench outside ever find love before his ass permanently fuses to it?
Hey, these are important issues!
It’s gripping shit I tell you.
Anyway, I chose something with an upbeat tempo to keep things moving along this afternoon, Public Enemy’s ‘Fear of a Black Planet’.
What? White boys on spin bikes can’t listen to gangster rap?
Sup wit dat?
Anyway, ‘Fear of a Black Planet’ is their third studio album released on March 20th, 1990, by Def Jam Recordings and Columbia Records. It was produced by the group’s own production team The Bomb Squad, who sought to expand on the dense, sample-layered sound of Public Enemy’s previous album, ‘It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back’ (1988). In its first week alone, the album sold one million copies in the United States, where it charted at number 10 on the Billboard ‘Top Pop Albums’ and was certified platinum by the Recording Industry Association of America.
It was praised by music critics for its sonic quality, societal themes, and insightful lyrics, and was ultimately named as one of the best albums in 1990. It has since been recognized as one of hip hop’s greatest and most important albums, as well as being both musically and culturally significant. In 2003, it was ranked #300 on Rolling Stone’s list of the ‘500 Greatest Albums of All Time, and in 2005, the Library of Congress added it to the National Recording Registry.
From the opening tracks it’s gritty and ugly and the samples of everything from Assata Shakur, Nelson Mandela, Louis Farrakhan, and even James Brown were enough to keep this white bread cracka homeboy a-spinnin’ as if my very life depended on it, dig?