OPINION: Back when albums used to be released on Tuesdays, hip-hop had a day where five eventual legends (solo or group) would drop and run all of our pockets.
Editor’s note: The following article is an op-ed, and the views expressed are the author’s own. Read more opinions on theGrio.
I got robbed by a crackhead on Tuesday, Sept. 29, 1998.
While I wish that prior sentence was the beginning of an opening monologue of Tyler Perry’s next blockbuster film, “Return of the Mack,” the redemption story about a man named Mack who worked at McDonald’s and went to jail for killing a crackhead that robbed him for a Big Mac — on Sept. 29 — I actually was robbed by a crackhead on that date. I remember this so specifically because my crack-ish neighbor who happened to live in the crackhouse two doors down from my house (I realize how ridiculous this sounds; shouts out to the west side of Atlanta) stuck me for Jay-Z’s “Vol. 2: Hard Knock Life,” Outkast’s “Aquemini,” and A Tribe Called Quest’s “The Love Movement,” three albums I’d just spent no less than $60 in total to purchase on what felt like the most insane hip-hop album release date in my lifetime. Because I was a college student and thus not rich, I left Brand Nubian’s “Foundation” and Mos Def and Talib Kweli’s “Mos Def and Talib Kweli are Black Star” on the shelves at the Circuit City (most likely) at Greenbriar Mall in Atlanta.
Since I’m sure you have questions about the robbery, I assure you it was my fault. As I said, I lived two doors down from a crackhead in my collection of rowhouses. I got home and put my CD Discman with accompanying wires under my seat but I guess I left some exposed. About an hour later, I got a knock at my door and my crackhead neighbor tried to sell me BACK the three CDs he’d just stolen out of my car. I walked to my back porch, looked at my car, saw broken glass and then told him I wasn’t about to buy back the albums he just stole out of my car. He said he didn’t know anything about any stolen goods but figured I would have a specific want for these three CDs. Apparently, he knew my musical tastes from listening outside of my windows or something. I didn’t buy them back if you’re wondering … I’d already spent what felt like too much money plus I had to pay for a new driver’s side window.
That was MY Sept. 29, 1998. But for others, that day represents the last great release date in hip-hop history and an important one for hip-hop as a whole. It’s so important I need to have a conversation about it on “Dear Culture” with Jacinta Howard, news editor at Rock The Bells, about what that day meant culturally (she did not get robbed by a crackhead — at least not that day).
In one day, we got four albums by legacy artists: Outkast (their third album), Jay-Z (his third album), A Tribe Called Quest (their fifth album), and Brand Nubian (their fourth album). Mos Def and Talib released the first of their two projects — their second album released in 2022. As a hip-hop head, the day was a total win, and for those of us with little money, a stressful day. For one, each of the albums was coveted. Outkast was coming off of their game-changing album, “ATLiens,” and Jay-Z was riding the high of his HUGE single, “Hard Knock Life.” We all kind of knew this new album from ATCQ would be their last. For 18 years, we weren’t wrong; by the time they released 2016’s “We Got It From Here… Thank You 4 Your Service,” Phife Dawg had passed away, ensuring that album would be their last.
While Mos Def and Talib Kweli were the “new kids” on the block, their single “Definition” was a hip-hop salve for those lamenting the shiny suit era. For Brand Nubian, “Foundation” was an album that featured the original members of the group we knew from 1990. The point is, there was excitement around each album so deciding which album to bring home wasn’t an easy choice.
Outkast’s “Aquemini” was the only album I was guaranteed to buy. While I loved ATCQ, I didn’t love their previous album but; I mean, “Find A Way,” the single from the album was an absolute banger so I grabbed that. I landed on Jay-Z’s album because my crew was full of Jay fans (I was, too, just not AS much back then) and that’s an album everybody was guaranteed to buy. I remember opening each album and listening to them in my car (though I had a bit of a cheat code; in the Atlanta University Center we had a store called Audrey’s where you could listen to — and buy — albums the day before; I didn’t have the cash on me for them on Monday, Sept. 28, but I did listen to “Aquemini” in-store).
As a hip-hop head, I have an extreme reverence for these days and moments in the world of hip-hop that coincide with my hip-hop journey. Especially with some distance and the ability to see if these moments that mattered still do as we continue to reach anniversaries for the projects. For instance, if you were to ask me now, the only albums that truly matter from that date are Outkast’s “Aquemini,” an album that is now considered one of the greatest albums of all time, and “Mos Def & Talib Kweli are Black Star,” since its creators are such luminaries in our current pop culture world, even if in different ways. That album has almost taken on mythic qualities for what it represents in hip-hop, though that representation is definitely better than the album itself. “Aquemini” is a true classic work of art. “Black Star” is a classic, as well, though probably for the spirit of hip-hop.
ATCQ’s album was largely disappointing to me, and the almost immediate breakup of the group after its release made sense. I don’t listen to “The Love Movement” at all, and I’m sure I’m not alone. Jay-Z’s album was a pinnacle moment at the time; to date, it is his most commercially successful. But as Jay released more albums, he also released better albums that pushed “Vol. 2” further down the list of his album rankings. I wasn’t a huge fan of Brand Nubian, and I would wager their album is just part of the Brand Nubian convo but not a legacy-cementing project. Respectfully, it is not just another album released in 1998.
Regardless of the position of each of the albums historically, they are part of a date that mattered to hip-hop culture during a time when hip-hop was still this evolving movement; all of the albums took up space for different reasons. As I continue on my trajectory towards being a middle-aged hip-hop head, the joy and appreciation I felt for Sept. 29, 1998, hasn’t wavered, no matter how many years have passed since. I suppose I really mean it every time I say that hip-hop is the love of my life.
And because I know you want to know, I haven’t been robbed by a crackhead since that day.
Panama Jackson is a columnist at theGrio. He writes very Black things, drinks very brown liquors, and is pretty fly for a light guy. His biggest accomplishment to date coincides with his Blackest accomplishment to date in that he received a phone call from Oprah Winfrey after she read one of his pieces (biggest), but he didn’t answer the phone because the caller ID said: “Unknown” (Blackest).
Make sure you check out the Dear Culture podcast every Thursday on theGrio’s Black Podcast Network, where I’ll be hosting some of the Blackest conversations known to humankind. You might not leave the convo with an afro, but you’ll definitely be looking for your Afro Sheen! Listen to Dear Culture on TheGrio’s app; download it here.
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