RZA created, developed and patented the Wu-Tang Clan. To me, that makes him not only the best producer of the modern-era, but one of the most important artists in the history of music – period.

Real talk: Wu-Tang put NYC back on the map – moreso than Biggie and Nas put together. Maybe it was the simple fact that they had nine emcees.  Or, maybe it was the fact that they were so gangsta, but in a different way than their peers on the Left Coast. See, West Coast took over because they invaded hip hop, not only with a gangsta-steez, but bravado and machismo. Nas couldn’t put NYC on the map because (at that time) he wasn’t popular enough and he wasn't hard enough -- he was too substantial for that, too busy being a sociologist and we love him for it. Biggie was definitely popular and gangsta, but he had Puff with him. They wanted zero beef with

Pac and the West on wax. Wu-Tang, on the other hand, was reckless. They were intimidating. They were cool with Pac and Cube and MC Eight and kats from the West, but if the steez would have flipped and they'd have been at odds, they would’ve brought the ruckus. Think about the songs on Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) and think about the videos. They were menacing, but in an authentic, genuine way.  It didn’t feel contrived or purposely shocking like Onyx.  New York needed this visual, cultural and, most importantly, musical aggression – supported by artistry and integrity – to balance the scales.

At the helm of this Wu project was the RZA – that is an unquestioned fact. He made every beat and the Wu-sound began with the music, as opposed to the lyrics. It was dank, it was eerie, it was scary, it was rambunctious, it was reflective, it was groovin, it was just way too many things for my young, teenage.  Who doubts that RZA was the dude that came up with the idea of the chorus for "Bring the Ruckus"? And don't think for a second that when RZA dropped the track to just a rumbling bass before each verse on or "Wu-Tang Clan Ain't Nuthin to F’ Wit", it didn't add to the drama of that record.  In 1993, had you ever heard a beat like “Da Mystery of Chessboxing”?  Did we ever encounter anything like, "Can It Be All So Simple"? One could rack their brain and fail to come up with something that sounded even remotely similar.  Not to mention, the whole movement could have unraveled thanks to, like, nine (essentially) solo acts forming a group. 36 Chambers might be the most important album of the modern era and it had RZA’s fingerprints smeared all over it. In fact, no producer was more important to a project than RZA was to 36.

That album, the subsequent solo releases from the Wu-camp and the landmark (and horribly slept on) follow-up, Wu-Tang Forever, were so new. RZA was actually breaking new musical ground.  Splicing in Kung-Fu flick sound-effects, sped up soul-samples, dark, lo-fi soundscapes – moreso than any of the dudes on this Top 7 list, kats bite RZA the most. The hyperspeed samples Kanye employs so much, RZA coined that. Those odd, video-game antics Dilla uses in some of his far-out tracks, RZA started that. When producers drop portions of famous movies or obscure monologues on their records, that's Wu-influence, which is (ultimately) RZA-influence.

Aside from RZA’s genius as a creator, his palette was diverse. Take for instance, the disparate natures of “Guillotine” or “Glaciers of Ice” off Only Built 4 Cuban Linx and “Brooklyn Zoo” and “Shimmy Shimmy Ya” off Ol’ Dirty's Return to the 36 Chambers—I think you could make an argument that no producer made beats that sounded as disparate or fresh.  For instance, “Shimmy Shimmy Ya” used a piano riff that was tinkling, with a shuffling snare and groovin bass line. “Brooklyn Zoo” was classic Wu, it sounded like a basement, the piano was real heavy and ominous—once again, it was that threatening, truly gangsta ish that Wu was on. “Guillotine” was that typical RZA-track with the odd sounds, in this case some type of distorted violin and a head-nod drum rhythm. And I'm not really prepared to breakdown “Shadowboxing” off the Liquid Swords album, from the subtlety of the haunting flute that whispered the sped-up sample of the woman singing "oh man."  It was as vile as they come.

Yet, perhaps RZA's importance and excellence was best manifested in 2000. In 1997 Wu dropped Forever. RZA didn't miss a beat. It was actually a better album than 36, albeit not as important. After Forever, RZA lorded over most of Tical 2000: Judgment Day, another impeccably produced album. But in 1999, the masses awaited Rae's follow up to Only Built 4 Cuban Linx, maybe the Clan's illest effort. He hit us with Immobilarity. It couldn’t have been more disappointing, not even beginning to approach the level of Cuban Linx and acting as Wu’s first real dud.  No wonder, though – RZA didn’t oversee the album.  RZA and Rae butted heads a lot and they were in the midst of a spat, supposedly, so Rae went with his own team of producers. They produced Wu-sounding tracks, but without RZA reigning over the studio, it was a flat album. So, knee-jerk reactions were like, "Oh no! Is the Wu over? Are they done?!"

But, just when you thought the earth was gonna cave in, RZA gets in the studio and exec-produces Ghostface Killah’s Supreme Clientele. That, along with the Dilla-produced Slum Village-gem, Fantastic Vol. 2 remain the dopest, most important and creatively produced albums of the Last Great Year of Hip Hop. Clientele was an obvious indication that RZA was unquestionably the driving force behind the Wu's prowess. It was like a brief Wu-rebirth – for a moment, the Wu was back. It had been two years after Tical: 2000, Wu was stumbling toward irrelevance, RZA had leapt to scoring films (his work on Ghost Dog really places him in a separate stratosphere) and you really missed Wu and RZA “The Producer” – then he came back and blew your brain out the back of your head with mind-numbing, straight-up baffling production on Wu-Tang’s last classic album.

Later that year, Wu came to D.C. as a collective and performed at Nation. His beats induced mayhem and euphoria at the same time. And when he started passing around bottles of Don Perignon to us crazed lunatics near the stage – well, that sealed it.  For that, and his immense, never-before genius, he is modern hip hop's Greatest Producer.

Doin’ The Knowledge:

Aside from the individual tracks listed in the above piece (required listening for realmusic lovers), check out his work on the score and music direction for Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai and his alter-ego trip via his Bobby Digital vehicle.

-- Music Dude

musicdude@thisisrealmusic.com