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By Root 545 0

and heroin abuse, the Orwellian control mentality of local and national governments, and decaying inner cities in the late 1970s. In the years after the Vietnam War, the incentives of America’s major industries—auto, chemical, and real estate—funded the development of suburban life, and urban-based families that could afford to move did. Those left behind had no choice; they were predominantly matriarchal households left to fend for themselves in eroding neighborhoods while city governments spent their budgets on police containment instead of assistance. In New York, families moved to New Jersey and Long Island or better sections of Brooklyn and Queens. The Bronx, at the heart of America’s biggest metropolis, was hit hardest. Gangs and drugs ruled in an area with no economic foundation to build on; it was depicted in the media as a wasteland, for example, in movies such as Fort Apache, the Bronx (1981) and Escape from New York (1981), which predicted that in 1997 the federal government, in response to uncontrollable gangs and crime, would wall in Manhattan Island and declare it a maximum security prison. On the music front, the righteous soul of Motown and the funk of Sly and the Family Stone was superseded by disco’s smooth elitist soundtrack and R&B singers in the disco vein.

In the 1970s, the northernmost tip of Manhattan, across the Harlem River from the southernmost section of the Bronx Borough of New York City, the restless youth either didn’t like or couldn’t afford to see hip-hop pioneer DJ Hollywood spin in Manhattan nightclubs, so they found a dance outlet at parties in their neighborhood parks. Unorthodox DJs there wove a sound harder than the show business boogie of disco bands such as Chic and Fatback. These rebel crews rocked the block with power that was siphoned from the city of New York by tapping into a transformer box at the base of a light pole. The performers reinvented themselves as grandiose street superheroes with flashy uniforms and spectacular names that suggested power, prestige, and respect. There were plenty of players on the scene, but three men permanently sculpted the revolution: Kool Herc Grandmaster Flash, and Afrika Bambaataa.

I got techniques dripping out my buttcheeks: Christopher Wallace, a.k.a. Notorious B.I.G., performs in 1995.

Kool Herc, born Clive Campbell on the island of Jamaica, was the first to link the instrumental drum breaks in a song. He sewed together hard funk, connecting James Brown and the Average White Band, and sought out obscure records with hot instrumental breaks to extend the jam. He called it “break spinning.” It was the first sound of hip-hop. Herc spun in Bronx nightclubs and outdoor parks with his “masters of ceremony” or “mike controllers” (MCs), Coke La Rock, Luv Bug Starski, and Busy Bee, who kept the party moving like the Jamaican toaster emcees in the dance halls of Kingston. They’d hype the songs, commend the DJ’s skills, and keep people on the floor with phrases that are still hip-hop staples, like “Ya rock and ya don’t stop” and “To the beat, y’all.”

Bambaataa, born Kevin Donovan, broadened hip-hop’s sonic horizons and social image. Bambaataa, known for his sharp tongue and bold community politics, was the leader of the Black Spades, the city’s biggest, toughest street gang. Using their influence, Bambaataa formed the Organization, a coalition that helped keep drugs and violence at bay in his home, the Bronx River Projects. Spinning breaks like Herc, Bambaataa brought a multicultural strain to the party, courtesy of the eclectic tastes and diverse record collection he picked up from his mother, which ran the gamut from Sly Stone to Led Zeppelin to Latin soul. He would scour secondhand stores to score diverse vinyl, adding everything from African, jazz, and Caribbean breaks to the Euro-synth of Kraftwerk’s “Trans-Europe Express” to his mix. In 1974, as Bronx gangs imploded over turf wars, drugs, and police crackdowns, Bambaataa founded the Zulu Nation, a collective of DJs, breakers, rappers, and graffiti artists, plus some friends from the Black