Pharoahe Monch
1991: Headphones on, tuning into either Kid Capri on WBLS 107.5 or Red Alert in 98.7 KISS FM and Fudge Pudge comes on, scampering to press the record button. Later that weekend, tuning into the Saturday at noon repeat of Video Music Box with Uncle Ralph McDaniels, the Fudge Pudge video comes on. Who are these crazy cats out in Flushing, Queens standing in front of the World’s Fair globe?
Before I even knew what defined a dope MC, before I knew about James Brown samples, before I knew who O.C. was, before I knew what soulful music was, I knew I was a fan of Pharoah Monch and Organized Konfusion. This is one of the most talented poets on the planet. Listening to his verses and flows is like opening your eyes and finding yourself in a maze: you try to find the outline of the walls, bob your head to the beat, but realize in your vain attempts to find order, someone has constructed a master plan for your to follow and make sense of. Complicated. Layererd. Stuttering. Rhythmatic. Syncopated. Flowing. A Pharoahe Monche 16.
There’s no way I could pass up seeing Pharoahe Monche rock a crowd, even if it was on a Sunday! Even if there were a BUNCH of wack opening acts! Even if I wanted to celebrate the Warriors Game 4 win over the Mavs in the Town.
The Light, The Life, Oh No, The Truth, Desire, Push, Gun Draws, Stray Bullet, Who Stole My Last Piece of Chicken, Fudge Pudge, Get the __ Up. No, that is not the order of tracks he performed…
With not a trace of Organized Konfusion on his breath, or even on the crowds conciousness, Pharoahe ripped through his well known solo joints, and did the new joints from the album, Desire. He had two hype back-up singers, especially my man Showtime, who was one more solo away from stealing the show, and DJ Boogie Blind, who I didn’t know is an official, X-Executioner.
I remember seeing Organized Konfusion perform at the 25th Rock Steady Anniversary party in the Manhattan Center…I don’t really remember much about the performance excect a Puerto Rican kid standing next to me getting buckwild, requesting “Who Stole my Last Piece of Chicken”, which Organized didn’t perform.
I still don’t know why he calls himself Pharoah Monch. Go cop “Desire.”