Backspin: Digital Underground — Sex Packets ( 1990)

Hip-Hop’s P-Funk disciples hosted a sonic orgy of the flesh and the mind. (82.5/100)

“Alright stop what you’re doin’, cause I’m about to ruin the image and the style that you’re used to.”

Shock G impishly announces Digital Underground’s arrival via his bulbous-nosed alter ego, Humpty Hump, at the top of the group’s breakthrough single, “The Humpty Dance.”

Never has a more prophetic mission statement been rapped. Shock G’s cheeky band of rogues still stands as a singular entity in hip-hop’s vast pantheon. Digital Underground is at once wildly imaginative and mischievously subversive, rooting their flights of fancy in Shock’s classically trained musicality. Ultimately, they confounded audiences every bit as much as they entertained us - which they did in spades.

“The Humpty Dance” may be hip-hop’s most instantly recognizable anthem. To this day, the moment the falsetto vocal sample from Parliament’s “Let’s Play House” stutters in, eyes widen and lips arch upward. Limbs stiffened from hours in cubicles limber with the elasticity of Shock’s industrial strength rubber band of a bass line. Inhibitions start shedding like cocoons as grown ass adults and unsuspecting kids convulse into motion with the reckless abandon of the song’s titular character.

The giddy raunch and sheer goofiness of Humpty’s rhymes are timelessly infectious, but the over-the-top antics largely overshadowed the ingeniousness of the record - particularly for early ’90s pop audiences and critics eager to dance to rap hits but still struggling to see hip-hop as a sophisticated art form.

In a seamless blend of samples and live instrumentation, “The Humpty Dance” is one hip-hop’s greatest beats; as meticulously constructed as it is irresistibly funky. The six-and-a-half minute album version climaxes in a spirited crescendo followed by a methodical breakdown that highlights the disparate elements that Shock G has so subtly woven together.

Likewise, the lyrics go far beyond the surface silliness. In the tradition of the P-Funk anthems by which Digital Underground is so clearly influenced, Humpty’s rhymes deliver a subversive salvo, lampooning the era’s dance craze, hip-hop’s hyper-masculine bravado, and ultimately America’s euro-centric beauty standards:

People say “Yo, Humpty, you’re really funny lookin’” That’s all right, ’cause I get things cookin’ You stare, you glare, you constantly try to compare me But you can’t get near me I give ’em more, see, and on the floor, B All the girls they adore me Oh yes, ladies, I’m really bein’ sincere ’Cause in a 69 my Humpty nose’ll tickle your rear My nose is big, uh-uh I’m not ashamed Big like a pickle, I’m still gettin’ paid I get laid by the ladies, you know I’m in charge Both how I’m livin’ and my nose is large

Like the character’s nose, “The Humpty Dance” is larger-than-life in every way. That’s precisely why it was the wrong choice to open Sex Packets, the Oakland-based collective’s debut album. Taken on their own, “Way We Swing” and “Rhymin’ on the Funk” would have made for a fitting introduction to the Underground. The former freaks a Jimi Hendrix sample to fuel rhymes reminiscent of the rhythmic chants that dominated mid-70s Parliament records. The latter ups the tempo as Shock and sidekick Money B pledge allegiance to the funk lineage for which they proudly carry the torch. But the more understated production coupled with Shock G’s laconic delivery feels small following the bombast of “The Humpty Dance.”

Sex Packets settles into a deep groove - or more precisely, a deep sea groove - with “Underwater Rimes (Remix).” The track bubbles like water itself as Digital Underground embrace the metaphor of water as freedom that powered Parliament’s “Aqua Boogie,” from which “Underwater Rimes” cribs its playful hook.

Shock paints a surrealist picture of an aquatic party, complete skinny dipping mermaids, DJs stymied by floating records, and even a rhyming blowfish who shows impressive gill control while spitting the track’s closing bars. It’s one of the most imaginative embodiments of the album’s recurring theme of escape and transcendence through the vessel of imagination. Our freedom, the subtext implies, is inside us. Or, in the words of Shock G’s spirit funkateer, George Clinton, “Free your mind and your ass will follow.”

The excursions of imagination veer sharply toward the carnal on “Gutfest ’89,” as the Underground envisions a bacchanal in which musical visionaries across the genre spectrum score a decedent orgy featuring women of every ethnicity and proclivity. Sexual and artistic freedom are intrinsically linked in the dimension we’re now traversing, which feels like equal parts debaucherous wonderland and human id.

Just as it feels like a trippy concept album is coalescing, “Danger Zone” slices through the euphoria with a stark portrayal of the addiction and desperation plaguing inner cities at the tail end of the crack era. An ingenious sample of Parliament’s anthem “Flashlight” turns the celebratory keys menacing. On its own, “Danger Zone” is one of Sex Packets’ strongest tracks, but the stark tone stands in jarring contrast to the rest of the album. Its placement breaks up the freaky-deaky flow between “Gutfest” and “Freaks of the Industry,” a sinewy piece of strange that manages to be simultaneously more graphic than you’d expect and not as scandalous as the pornographic groove feels.

“Doowutchyalike” picks up the tempo, embodying the group’s all-inclusive ethos in a nearly nine-minute romp.

I mean rich, poor, high, low, or upper-middle class, Let’s all get together and have a few laughs And do what we like Yeah, and do what we like, yeah, and do what we like And since you came here you gotta show and prove, And do that dance, until it don’t move, Doowutchyalike Sometimes I bite Now if you’re hungry, get yourself something to eat, And if you’re dirty, then go take a bath Messed up the line? Nope, sometimes I don’t rhyme Help yourself to a cracker, with a spread of cheddar cheese, Have a neck bone, you don’t have to say please Eat whatcha like, yo, smell how ya like Everybody doowutchyalike

Essentially the albums first and third singles (it was re-released to radio and video outlets following the success of “The Humpty Dance), “Doowutchyalike” would have been an ideal opener. It not only lays out the group’s mantra over an irresistible funk groove, it also introduces Humpty in a colorful cameo that would work perfectly as foreshadowing without pushing a show-stealing side character to the forefront too early.

The final leg of the album is devoted to its thematic core - the fictional black market pills that can deliver any sexual experience the imagination conjures within the safe confines of the mind. “Sex Packets” is a slinky slice of electro-eroticism, with Shock singing the pills’ praises over a slow grinding synth groove. If, in an alternate universe, TV stations are allowed to advertise street drugs, this is the jingle you’ll hear while drifting off to sleep to The Red Shoe Diaries.

“The Packet Man” follows with a street hustler’s sales pitch over a frenetic Fred Wesley sample. Shock plays the role of pusher, slyly extolling the virtues of the most visceral high of all.

These cheap ones here are ten minutes But these are extra power They last about a half an hour And these here sell for bout 40 ’Cause you get two girls [Yeah it says orgy] Right, and if you’re married, it’s no big deal You’re not cheating at all, you’re just poppin’ a pill And if your wife’s got a headache and wants to hit the sack It’s cool, take a packet fool Biochemically compacted sexual affection Now here, take a look at my selection

More than three decades after its release, Sex Packets still stands as a singular album from a group like no other. The funk fueled grooves and tongue-in-cheek irreverence make it a lively listen, while the conceptual forays are enough to keep the cerebellum bouncing right along with the booty. Yet, it falls short of being the all-time great album that a group as unique and talented as Digital Underground should have in their catalogue.

The sequencing certainly plays a part in the whole adding up to slightly less than the sum of the parts. The fact that the CD, cassette, and vinyl all feature different track orders might speak to the group itself lacking certitude in exactly what statement they wanted the album to make. On the CD/Digital version, through which the album is now most commonly consumed, abrupt transitions between tracks and jarring tonal shifts rob it of the fluidity that a concept album should have, and that Sex Packets could have achieved with some minor reordering. For instance, had the “Sex Packets” suite been sequenced earlier, the dream-like sexcapades of “Gutfest” and “Freaks of the Industry” would fall organically into place as drug fueled hallucinations.

Perhaps more intrinsic to the album’s limitations is the same component responsible for its highest heights: Digital Underground’s strict adherence to the P-Funk template. Seven of the album’s 10 proper songs contain P-Funk samples (in some cases, multiple), while the thematic touchtones of music as social lubricant and liberation are straight out of the Book of George. The result is an album (and ultimately a discography) that feels like a faithful adaptation of P-Funk to hip-hop rather a channeling of its creative spirit to build something new.

If that seems like nitpicking, it’s actually a testament to the moments of brilliance that shine through on Sex Packets, hinting at how an already great album could have been transcendent.

By the Numbers

Production: 8.5 Lyrics (how the words are put together): 7.5 Delivery & Flow: 8 Content (Substance): 9 Cohesiveness: 7.5 Consistency: 8 Originality: 10 Listenability: 9 Impact/Influence: 9 Longevity: 6

Total — 82.5

This score reflects the CD/Digital version of the album.

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Backspin is a look back at the albums that shaped and defined hip-hop. It explores what made them resonate, the impact they had on the culture, and where they fit in today’s ever-expanding hip-hop canon.