Excuse Me, This Is The Yah Mos Def

The young men of the YMD do have good memories, as any MCs worth their spit should, but there's no nostalgia here, no whiff of formaldehyde coming from the speakers. Instead, the YMD is guilty of doing something new, and now find themselves at the front of a movement they didn't even realize they were starting. Like Run DMC and The Clash before them, they've taken the music of their youth and built on it; it's an extension of youth, a motherfucking fountain of it. This ain't over-priced reunion shows. Like all greats, they stand on the shoulders of giants, on their amplifiers and thick gold chains, and all their wax.

Consider their samples. The songs on this record are built from the music of a diverse bunch, including Bikini Kill, Minor Threat, Shipping News and Cap'n Jazz. The production is raw and guerilla; think '36 Chambers' by (ex)punks, think being in the cipher as an ambulance drives by, sirens blazing. Lyrically, the album amounts to nothing short of a cultural history of the city they call home (in fact, in 'New Direction' the boys seem to shout out every single neighborhood in Philadelphia. They've got back).