Backspin: Mobb Deep — The Infamous (1995)

Mobb Deep’s murderous masterpiece draws beauty from brutality. (94/100)

Mobb Deep’s sophomore revelation embodies the Chinese concept of the yin and yang. Loosely translated to “positive-negative,” yin and yang is a theory of duality, rooted in the philosophy that seemingly opposite forces may actually be interdependent parts of an existential whole. The Infamous is a musical masterclass in the art of self-perpetuating balance. It draws warmth from its coldness. It conveys resilience in its fatalism. Ultimately, Havoc and Prodigy deliver one of hip-hop’s most beautiful albums by mining its ugliest places.

The gentle strings of “Start of Your Ending (41st Side)” float in like an ethereal dreamscape, transporting us not only into a different world, but a different plane of existence. If the strings seem to come from above the clouds, the drums emerge from the beneath the ground, hitting with the cold sterility of the concrete itself. The space in between is populated by a cacophony of conversation reminiscent of Marvin Gaye’s “What Going On,” suggesting a world vibrant with life, even as the sonic textures convey the dark specter of mortality.

“Start of Your Ending” feels more like a prologue than an opener, methodically establishing the world that’s gradually engulfing us. Havoc’s opening verse paints a vivid picture of the 41st Avenue side of the Queensbridge projects and the nihilistic mentality required to navigate it, while Prodigy offers slice-of-life stories conveying the type of men the environment mints. Whether by birth, circumstance, or choice, entrance into this world is the start of your ending, but you’ll fight like hell to make the journey last as long as possible.

The album unfolds in movements, like the world’s grittiest classical overture. The first suite establishes the rules of engagement evocatively spelled out in “The Infamous Prelude,” a spoken detour from Prodigy that culminates in the prescient declaration “it’s all about who gets who first.” Having gotten a crash indoctrination via the preamble, we’re thrown right into the thick of the jungle on “Survival of the Fittest.” Over foreboding keys and a brooding bassline, the MCs deliver a chilling paean of urban Darwinism:

[Havoc]

I’m trapped in between two worlds, tryin’ to get dough You know when the dough get low the jewels go But never that As long as fiends smoke crack I’ll be on the block hustlin’, countin’ my stacks No doubt, watchin’ my back and proceed with caution 5–0 lurkin’, no time to get lost in the system N****s usin’ fake names to get out quick My brother did it and got bagged with two ounces I live a world where squads hit the block hard Ask my man Twin, when he got bagged, that f***ed me up, God But s*** happens for a reason You find out who’s your true peoples when you’re upstate bleedin’

The theme of loyalty among crew is expounded upon in “Eye for an Eye (Your Beef is Mine)” over a soundscape reminiscent of a horror movie. With Nas and Raekwon riding shotgun, Havoc and Prodigy craft vivid vignettes of brutality met with brutality in the ongoing struggle to survive to the next day. The strength of bonds forged in the caldron is palpable in the lyrics as well as the interplay of the four MCs, the more animated deliveries of the high profile guests serving as the perfect counterpoint to the chilling matter-of-factness of Hav and P.

Mobb affiliate Big Noyd makes the first of several stellar appearances trading verses with Prodigy on “Just Step Prelude.” The pulsating a cappella interlude signals a transition from the scene-setting portion of the album to the more intimate personal narratives that are both bred by the environment and defining of it.

P places us smack in the middle of a frenetic crime spree on the serenely savage “Give Up the Goods (Just Step).” With A Tribe Called Quest’s sonic wunderkind Q-Tip behind the boards, the track transforms a seductive trumpet sample from Ester Phillips’ slow burning “That’s All Right with Me” into a dizzying dervish of nihilism, over which the Mobb and Noyd unfurl their adventures in larceny. Havoc’s verse turns the tables, showing how quickly predator can become pray, with P retrieving the baton for the final lap, and “sticking up the stick up kids” bringing the adventures in midnight marauding to an abrupt halt. It’s all about who gets who first, after all.

If “Give Up the Goods” hits like a shot of adrenaline, “Temperature’s Rising” creeps up like the come down. Q-Tip delivers another virtuoso turn on production pairing a melancholy Patrice Rushan sample with his signature slapping snares. It’s a pensively soulful canvas over which Mobb Deep paint a rich picture of the consequences forever looming over their outlaw lifestyle.

Written like a letter to a crew member on the run, the verses evoke a vulnerability to the Stretch Armstrong arm of law enforcement not present in their tales of tussles with fellow street maneuverers. It also introduces the the reality of prison as a near right of passage that recurs throughout the album, most notably on the subsequent track.

“Up North Trip” feels like a continuation of the story introduced on “Temperature’s Rising,” with Havoc serving up OG wisdom to the fugitive turned inmate. Prodigy takes a more esoteric approach, using his closing verse for a poignant moment of existential reflection in which life itself is positioned as the prison:

Then I pause… and ask God why? Did he put me on this Earth, just so I could die? I sit back and build on all the things I did wrong Why I’m still breathin’, and all my friends gone I try not to dwell on the subject for a while Cause I might get stuck in this corrupt lifestyle But my heart pumps foul blood through my arteries And I can’t turn it back, it’s a part of me Too late for cryin’, I’m a grown man strugglin’ To reach the next level of life, without fumblin’ Down or foldin’, I got no shoulder to lean on but my own All alone in this danger zone Time waits for no man, the streets grow worse F*** the whole world, kid, my money comes first Cause I’m out for the gusto, and trust nobody If you’re not family, then you die by me

If the A Side sets the table, establishing the codes and characters of the streets in which we’re now immersed, the B Side serves a seven course meal of murder and mayhem. “Q.U. Hectic” and “Right Back at You” deliver a potent one-two punch of controlled chaos. Prodigy captures the ultimate futility of the urgency towards the end of the former, flatly observing:

I need to slow down, movin’ through life at a high speed Watchin’ all the slow runners pass by me

The ominous minimalism of “Cradle to the Grave” offers just such a momentary slow down, but the ensuing moments of reflection reveal little in the way transformational revelation. The track opens with Havoc coming home from a bid and Prodigy frantically evading arrest, returning to the themes of prison and policing introduced earlier. As P goes from mourning the murder of one homie to plotting the demise of another, and Havoc from celebrating his freedom from the confines of jail to lamenting the street game as a “case” he can’t beat, the imperviousness of the cycles that keep their environment mired in a stasis of stagnation becomes palpable.

A much needed moment of levity follows with the airy jazz jaunt of “Drink Away the Pain (Situations).” It’s as bitterly ironic as it is fitting that the album’s first true bit of escapism is, in fact, an ode to dependency. Prodigy and Havoc imagine alcohol as the femme fatale whose seductive powers hold them captive, while Q-Tip steps from behind the boards to deliver a parable about the evils of materialism populated exclusively by the designer names for which city dwellers nationwide were killing and dying at the time.

The album culminates with the immortal “Shook Ones Pt. II.” The lead single that launched Mobb Deep from provincial obscurity to the forefront of New York’s hyper competitive mid-90s scene, “Shook Ones Pt. II” is one of those rare lightening in a bottle moments in which everything comes together. Havoc’s propulsive production is equal parts grimy and accessible; uniquely Mobb Deep and true to the signature sound of its era. The verses are littered with quotables while building coherently to an explosive chorus that captures the ethos of the entire project:

Son, they shook ’Cause ain’t no such things as halfway crooks Scared to death, scared to look, they shook ’Cause ain’t no such things as halfway crooks Scared to death, scared to look Livin’ the life that of diamonds and guns There’s numerous ways you can choose to earn funds So some get shot, locked down, and turn nuns Cowardly hearts and straight up shook ones, shook ones He ain’t a crook, son, he’s just a shook one

If The Infamous starts in prologue, it ends in epilogue with “Party’s Over” providing the rollicking coda to an unrelenting masterpiece. Prodigy invites listeners to “chill, and think about your life for real,” urging us to truly absorb what we’ve just heard.

Indeed, The Infamous is an album that sticks with you like a haunting fever dream, its resonance only growing with repeated listens. The hip-hop cannon may contain objectively “better” albums; projects of grander scope or greater innovation. But no album more successfully realizes its own vision. 67 minutes after pressing play, the 41st Side of Queens, as rendered by Havoc and Prodigy, is a living, breathing, entity that will forever inform our worldview, even if most of us will never physically set foot on its cold concrete.

True to the yin and yang equilibrium that defines the album’s hypnotic calibration, that makes it a gift from a world defined by taking.

By the Numbers

Production: 9.5 Lyrics (how the words are put together): 9 Delivery & Flow: 9 Content (Substance): 9 Cohesiveness: 10 Consistency: 10 Originality: 9 Listenability: 9.5 Impact/Influence: 9 Longevity: 10

Total — 94

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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.