Once more we revisit our Brooklyn dwelling pioneers; this time for some Wordz of Wisdom. This has to be one of my favourites from the Bassers, 7 minutes of rhyme fuelled mayhem over a driving rhythm track that sounds as fresh today as it did in 1989.
The video itself is something of a frustration however, only released, as far as I am aware, on a VHS compilation, it would appear that it was cut to a tantalising two minute snippet for continuity purposes. Or more likely Serch and Pete Nice started fighting and the director’s panicked shouts of ‘cut’ simply saw them unsheathe their respective knives.
Speaking of the video director, I’m not sure he was their biggest fan. How else do you explain his remarkable decision to site the shoot in the middle of road you would have to describe as busy. Then placing the Prime Minister on a precarious looking chair, that certainly wouldn’t have withstood the impact of a Serch kick, never mind a 69 Impaler or whatever they’re called. He, and surely it is a he, then suggested, to our presumably incredulous duo, that we finish this bitch on a construction site! Where far larger vehicles roam unchecked, kicking up rapper obscuring amounts of dust, what could possibly go wrong! Despite this clear recipe for disaster the shoot went ahead; presumably our wordsmiths concerns were sated, when once more they were informed that the chair, undoubtedly now retired from a BBC King Arthur period drama, would be present.
I should also add that admirers of fierce crotch gyrating should certainly have their notebooks ready at 28 seconds in. For it is here that we witness an oscillation of such pelvis shattering proportions that you have to assume Serch has become accidentally entangled with a local fishermans hook, and an inadvertent, yet rhythmic fight, for genital survival briefly ensued. Thank goodness they managed a satisfactory take first time round. A second attempt may well have killed him, or at the very least separated him from his indispensible spine.
There is of course a third member of the group, who rarely seems to warrant much attention, DJ Daddy Rich. A trawl through Google reveals nothing of note, which is a shame as I would certainly loved his take on the politics of the group. He seemed happy though, always smilling. However this is perhaps best attributed to the fact that he knew that Serch and Nice were always only ever a misplaced glance away from staging their own unscripted version of ultimate fighting champion in the recording studio. An event that would appear to have ended, judging by the Serches hairdo, with him being chased down an alley that was significantly narrower than he had initially estimated.
Enjoy downloader, enjoy!
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