Just as Thelonious Monk tried to "test the swing" of his bands by shuffling oddly around the stage during performance, I thought it would be appropriate to analyze Rhino's new 80's Underground Rap compilation by pulling out a slab of cardboard and dusting off my old b-boy moves. I had to rearrange some furniture to get ample room for my footwork, but in a few short minutes I had my crushed velvet sweatsuit out of the closet (a little tight in the thighs, sadly) and I was ready to go. Now, mind you, I was never actually in a breaking crew back in the day-- I was too shy to perform in public. But I spent many an afternoon after school popping and locking alone on the basement floor with my Run DMC tapes and my dreams.

The first disc in the series, Don't Believe The Hype, served as my warm-up. Public Enemy's classic of the same name kicks things off, and though it's always been a personal favorite, its status as "underground" is questionable. No matter, it helped get me limbered up as I started with some downrocking, moved into a glide and then busted a double 99. So far, so good.

MC Shan's "The Bridge" held my attention through its famous intro, but the song itself is relatively mediocre. De La Soul's "Ghetto Thang" ("underground" my krush-grooved ass!) is again a fine cut, but who the hell would buy a collection that chose that track over "Three Feet High and Rising?" The smooth bassline was good for eggbeaters, though, and by now I really had the blood pumping. I moved through some genies and a somewhat awkward cricket that still looked pretty sweet to Roxanne Shante's "Go On Girl." And let's face it about about Roxanne, you guys-- it's time for a reassessment of her career. Of all the female rappers, she's truly the queen, and most of her shit's out of print now.

Overall, this volume is perhaps the best in the series, but it's still weighted down with some weak material. But the early Jungle Brothers track, Schooly D's "Gucci Time" and the all-star Marly Marl jam are decent, relatively obscure songs. The rest, though, are largely forgettable-- with the exception of "Make Music with Your Mouth Biz" by the one and only Biz Markie. This track belongs in every collection. I got so excited hearing it that I took out my cat Otis with a particularly hellacious flare. It was here that I started to feel some pain in my right hip.

I was sweating pretty good when I cued up Can I Kick It?, the second volume in the series. KRS-One's "You Must Learn" starts it fast and funky, actually delivering on the knowledge tip with a nice, compact lesson about some of the great overlooked men of black history. All this and terrific for munchmills, which I had to perform somewhat tentatively due to my aching hip joint. I took a well-deserved break through Kurtis Blow's lame "If I Ruled the World" and Master Move's dull "Masters of Ceremony."

"Promo No. 2," another fine Jungle Brothers cut with Q-Tip sitting in, got me back in the game. I began with some toprocking and morphed into a shimmering worm, which had my trick hip smarting something awful. The music distracted me, too, as the rest of the disc-- save for Nice and Smooth's "No Delayin'"-- was pretty damn weak. This was the shit that should have stayed in the underground-- limp beats, wack sing-song rhyming-- you'll never hear a conscious head rocking this shit at a party, believe me. On the way to the bathroom for some Ibuprofen I decided that Can I Kick It? was just not "all that."

The final disc, Can You Feel It? starts with the sharp track of the same title by Original Concept. I rocked it Eastcoast style through Special Ed's "I Got It Made" and tried my first UFO during EPMD's groovy "Get Off the Bandwagon." The UFO was not a success, as my bad leg flew out and swiped my floor-standing halogen lamp which quickly ignited a portion of my couch. As I crawled to the hallway for the fire extinguisher, I paused to catch an earful of Three Times Dope's excellent "Greatest Man Alive."

I extinguished the blaze to the beat of Public Enemy's "B-Side Wins Again," albeit somewhat annoyed at Chuck D's never-ending obsession with the state of black radio. I got back on the board for "Because I Got It Like That," another nice Jungle Brothers track. (Those guys must need some bread.) After that, I lost my groove. A flying suicide during Chill Rob G's "Wild Pitch" went awry, and I'm now writing this from my hospital bed. The doctors say I'll be out of traction by next Thursday, which is two weeks earlier than I expected.

Overall, this is not one of Rhino's better outings. First off, the "theme" for each volume is pretty unclear. In truth, they're all completely interchangeable, and should be judged only on the quality of the song selection. Also, it's plain to see that Rhino couldn't license the really slamming 80's tracks and had to settle for what they could get. There's a lot of great under-appreciated stuff from this era, but disappointingly, you're not going to find it on this collection. If you're really into it, go pick up Treacherous 3's Live Convention, featuring the truly underground "New Rap Language," which was cut in '81 but still sounds like it was made next year. But whatever you do-- for the love of God, people-- don't stop that bodyrock.

-Mark Richard-San