A Critical Re-Evaluation of "Dad Rap"

Today's hip-hop of fat blunts and bitches doesn't exactly accommodate the older fellow; they're just not the gentle themes that a man in his advancing years wants to be reminded of. But what with most of today's rap superstars born after The Chronic (apart from Rick Ross, who stands ageless, like a mighty oak tree) we've been left with a slew of hip-hop from tween Tumblr upstarts. Modern hip-hop is no country for old men. But in the 90s Golden Years, Dad Rap was big business. Cuss-free and sample-heavy, it was carefree hip-hop that could be reenacted at a family BBQ after one too many lager tops. It's a genre easily overlooked, having all but disappeared in recent years as the world of Dad Rock continues to thrive so long as Paul Weller is known as The Modfather. Even Dad House is sort of still going, so long as Moby can still make it on the plane to Lovebox once a year. So, in honor of the bald brigade who just can't face A$AP’s doobie talk or Odd Future's anti-mom vibe, we're pourin' out a little liquor for the five Dad Rap classics of hip-hop past. The Spooks - "Things I've Seen"

For some reason, I--as well as a lot of people I know--always assumed that The Spooks were European. Something about the broken English, semi-sensical lyrical clichés, and cheap 3/4 length leather jackets that suggested they might've been involved in the Copenhagen B-Boy scene. In fact, they were from the mean streets of Philadelphia. Weird, huh? Apparently, LMFAO isn't European either. Things ended badly for The Spooks when founding member, Water-Water, died in a car crash in 2003. But the music will live on, as "Things I've Seen" and follow up single "Karma Hotel" will always remain classics in the Dad Rap canon.

Coolio feat L.V. - "Gangsta's Paradise"

Dads fucking love Coolio. On paper, the man previously known as Artis Leon Ivey Jr. is actually pretty 'hood - with a recent crack possession charge and a lot of unpaid parking tickets under his extremely loose belt - though little of this translates into his work. In fact, his music is relentlessly positive to an almost Cliff Richard extreme. A common theme in the world of Dad Rap is sampling golden oldies, and "Gangsta's Paradise" is basically Stevie Wonder's "Pastime Paradise," with a fat man singing instead of a blind one. This is the song that made an entire nation of patriarchs turn their baseball caps backwards for a day.

Ruthless Rap Assassins - "And It Wasn't A Dream"

The Windrush generation is a story that’s been largely overlooked in UK Urban Music, I mean there was the BBC adaptation of Small Island with Asher D, but that's about it really. But "It Wasn't Just A Dream" was UK hip-hop's first major attempt to tell the story, and the dads of our great nation lapped it up. What's astonishing about it now is just how fucking WEAK MCs Kermit La Freak, Dangerous Hinds and Dangerous C's respective flows are. They sounds beyond stilted, like a Radio 4 newsreader coerced into "doing a rap" for Children In Need. Even Louis Theroux had tighter bars than this. But it does have a nice summery feel to it. So next time you're riding dirty in the Previa, roll the child-locked windows down to half-mast, and give the people of Claygate and audio history lesson they won't ever forget.

PM Dawn - "Set Adrift On Memory A Bliss"

This track is essentially a proto-mash up, though instead of using an obscure track and making it sound new, it used two very obvious ones (Spandau Ballet's "True" and the beat from "Paid In Full") and put some redundant rapping over the top of it. Just listen to how low the verses are in the mix, they might as well not even be there. Even the acapella drop-out doesn't have any real conviction. PM Dawn was (and still are, sort of) comprised of two brothers whose only real brush with the gangsta world is when one of them was thrown off stage by that guardian of "real hip-hop" Krs-One at one of their own concerts. This is Dad Rap's equivalent of the Biggie/Pac slayings.

Puff Daddy ft. Faith Evans - "I'll Be Missing You"

Here it is, the Daddy of Dad Rap. The song that made a hundred thousand British men between the ages of 35-65 stand up and say "Yeah, I like it, that Poof Dada song. But not the bits with the rapping." There's something about the nostalgic sentimentality, the mournful subject matter, and yes, the lack of profanity. It's like the funeral bit in Four Weddings with a toe-tapping beat. The song proved so popular with the caucasian mainstream, in fact, that troubled ITV funny-man Michael Barrymore covered it on his seminal primetime show Michael Barrymore's My Kind Of Music.

@thugclive