Review Summary: Classic Memphis lo-fi trap for any well-appointed torture chamber.
Lo-fi music is, in this beautiful era of Soundcloud, bathroom recording studios, and social media self-promotion, a thing—and it’s a good thing. Personally, I think that low quality production and echoey vocals can add emotional depth to music, particularly rap. However, low-fi is not anything particularly new; indeed, some rap albums now considered to be classic are arguably unpolished by industry standards. Enter the Wu-Tang: 36 Chambers is a fairly good example. The occasional sonic hollowness of RZA’s production accented the album, giving credence to its underground and do-it-yourself roots.
But perhaps the most iconic of these low-fi precursors are a collection of albums which came out of Memphis during the 1990s. Before even the release of Three Six Mafia’s debut album, Mystic Stylez, Memphis rappers were putting out tapes that sounded like they had been recorded in a subterranean torture chamber. These dudes were not ***ing around; this music could have soundtracked a Southern remake of Hostel. A lot of these tapes are pure evil, but not so much in their content as in their composition.
Notable amongst these was Lil Noid’s nine-track, twenty-six minute tape, Paranoid Funk, which was released in 1995. Re-released in 2015 by the L.A. Club Resource label, Paranoid Funk is a collaborative effort between Noid and producer Blackout, who—according to their website—has worked with a number of rappers both in Memphis and across the south.
Paranoid Funk is sort of a perfect synthesis of this nightmare underground that influenced Three Six Mafia. Blackout’s production sounds as though each note was played in the weird boiler-room-basement from A Nightmare on Elm Street. The beats are both barren and foreboding, simple 808 production with minimal sampling and a solid dose of cowbell. On a related note, the 808 cowbell is incredibly underrated and shoutout to all the contemporary producers using it.
The simplicity of the beats is made more powerful through unique basslines—like the reversed bass on “Hamptown”—and a steady rhythm of high-hat. Interestingly, in some songs, Blackout basically just uses Noid’s voice as a sample, repeating one or two lines and incorporating them into the beat while experimenting with the production.
Noid’s voice itself will make you wonder if one of your earbuds is broken. It’s tinny, but menacingly so; his relatively high pitch works with the poor sound quality, making it sound as if Noid is rapping through a ghostly portal or some ***.
Lyrically, this album isn’t earth-shattering. It’s fairly straightforward braggadocio, mixed with threats of violence and murder. Part of the chorus of the second track, “Criminalistic Knowledge,” is “Kiss my nuts, suck my dick.” The rest of the song is largely Noid threatening to *** up his enemies. Really though, this album isn’t about lyrics; Noid has a strong and flexible flow that plays well off of Blackout’s beats. Together, the two teenage artists represent the Memphis sound that was hidden from the world right up until Three 6 dropped Mystic Stylez.
What’s interesting about this album are the obvious influences its had on modern rap groups like $uicideboy$ and Lil’ Ugly Mane. $uicideboy$ actually sample a track off of Paranoid Funk—“Try Me”—on their song “Pictures (feat. Maxo Kream).” Lil’ Ugly Mane’s whole style is heavily influenced by Noid and his contemporaries in the Memphis underground, from the distorted vocals to the the creepy, music-box beats. Samples taken off of tapes from the scene also appear elsewhere. Rapper and member of the Virginia-based Divine Council $ilkmoney’ track “The Fine Household (feat. Cyrax! And Lord Linco),”—produced by electronic artist Shlomo—features a piano riff taken from “I WISH YOU WOULD (feat. Reddog)” by Shawty Pimp, a song from his 1995 tape Comin’ Real Wit It.
Paranoid Funk is, ostensibly, a relatively important piece of music history. L.A. Club Resource’s reissue of the album is an opportunity for those of us who haven’t had anything on tape since The Land Before Time to enjoy this example of an influential music scene. Club Resource is distributing the album on vinyl, but it’s also available to stream on Spotify which, if you’re like me and you’re too broke to buy records or even a record player, is nice. So go check that out—or don’t. Honestly, I have no idea who’s going to read this anyways.
