Customer Reviews

Tommy Boy Story 1

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As a child of the 80s, perhaps its nostalgia that makes this stuff still so good to me. But another part of me will always believe that the originals will remain top notch. This is one of the best compilation CDs I've ran across.

I had the misfortune of being in my latter high school years when this stuff came out. By 1982-83, the beautiful, harmonic, and melodious Soul music of my youth was replaced by this ultra-syntesized soulless high-tech drek which I considered the dawn of the "dark ages of black music." Being able to distinguish between nostalgia and what was actually good, I'm one of the few who does not look on my HS years as any golden age of music.

When Tommy Boy and other record companies found out that (for some strange reason), young people were willing to pay money for what was essentially low-quality pre-programmed beats set to some silly chanting, R&B went on a long downhill slide until the recent advent of the neo Soul movement.

As for the "songs," "Planet Rock" was not awful for what it was. The beginning which simulates Bambaataa chanting to the cheers of a partying crowd makes me smile, and he adds some of his infectous personality in this which is unusual for such mechanical music.

"Pack Jam" like most of these other "songs" (?)is just a bunch of nothing. Some studio techincians calling themselves the "Jonzun Crew" (few of them were actual bands) chanting the title to some undistinguished programmed beats. "Play at Your Own Risk" is only distinguished by the incredibly witless chant near the end (Woof woof, hey buddy buddy-hey buddy buddy). Yes folks, once upon a time it had gotten THAT bad. We also get to ridiculous new lows with "Rock the House (They'll Never Be)" which the fools chant "Dig it, a dig it, a dig it, a get on down-ROCK THE HOUUUUSSE!" over and over. Back in the early 80s, this kind of junk made you want to chase after the kids who played this trash loudly on their boomboxes with baseball bats!

Fortuantely, such ignorant "music" (?) is now largely a deservedly forgotten memory and has (wisely) not reappeared in any kind of misguided nostalgia. Only hardcore hip hop historians and people too young to have had good taste when this stuff came out would buy something like this. May those days of ear pollution be gone forever like that other musical scourge of that time called heavy metal and one day, gangster (c)rap will join them.