Not  sure what Flashback! is? Go here. 

Before we start flashing back, let’s talk about the present for a minute: It is not 1990, yet New Kids on the Block are in the top 40. Yes, their comeback single “Summertime” is now a legitimate hit. This fact finally made me listen to the song, and… It’s pretty good. I know, right!?!? Not mindblowing, but definitely a more elegant groove than I was expecting. And have you seen the video? The boys have held up quite well. (Especially Jon, who I always thought was the group’s unsung cutie.) 

So if NKOTB are still hangin’ tough, and if Paula Abdul got another chance at radio stardom this year, can we spare a little love for P.M. Dawn? 

(more on them after the jump)

Remember P.M. Dawn? They took the blissed-out hip-hop of De La Soul, added more mysticism and pop samples, and turned it into some awesome songs.

Those who remember Prince Be and his brother, DJ Minutemix, probably remember “Set Adrift on Memory Bliss,” a trippy #1 single from 1991 that uses a sample of Spandau Ballet’s “True.”

And that song is great, but let’s not forget their other hits. “I’d Die Without You,” from the Boomerang soundtrack, is a piano ballad that still sounds haunting. Then there’s my personal favorite, “Looking Through Patient Eyes,” which features backing vocals from Cathy Dennis (more on her in a later post), a sample of George Michael’s “Father Figure,” and some of the most inscrutable lyrics I’ve ever heard.

Here’s the video:

“Patient Eyes” shows the duo at its best: A sample is reimagined into tuneful hip-hop, complete with a brilliant hook, and the result doesn’t sound like anything else around. In the early nineties, P.M. Dawn took a lot of flack for not being hard enough–this was the era of gangsta rap, after all–but in retrospect, it’s clear they were simply pushing the boundaries of what their genre can do. You can trace a line from De La Soul to P.M. Dawn to Arrested Development, Digable Planets, and even Lauryn Hill’s more spiritual work.

Another thing that worked against P.M. Dawn was that Prince Be wrote about love, vulnerability, and emotional pain. I mean, yes, 2Pac wrote “Dear Mama,” but what if that had been his rule and not his exception? That kind of sensitivity subverts the gruff MC sterotype, and some people can’t handle it.

P.M. Dawn obviously overcame the “weakling” tag with a few years of mainstream success, but it’s sad that so few commercial rap acts were able to follow the path the duo helped blaze.

To get back to the music, this post has reminded me that they made some slamming beats. Singles like “Paper Doll” and “Downtown Venus” (and album tracks like “About Nothing” and “Plastic”) command you to go crazy. (”Downtown Venus” is even in my gym mix right now.)

 

On the ballad front, beautiful numbers like “I Had No Right” and “More Than Likely” (a duet with Boy George) are as striking today as they were in the 90s. Again, they just don’t sound like anything else.

But that’s not to say the group was flawless. For one thing, they could be Capital-P Pretentious, especially when it came to their pseudo-spiritual jargon. I mean, good lord… the full name of their second album was The Bliss Album…? (Vibrations of Love and Anger and the Ponderance of Life and Existence). Even Fiona Apple might gag.

But as we flash back, let’s focus on the good times. If you don’t know P.M. Dawn’s music–or if you haven’t listened in a while–take a stroll with some of those songs up there. (They’re all available on iTunes.) I bet you’ll find at least one that you love.

And now I’d like to share some random P.M. Dawn memories… 

(1) The first time I heard “Looking Through Patient Eyes,” my grandfather was driving me home from the 1993 regional spelling bee in downtown Chattanooga. I did not do very well in the Bee, but the song ruled.

(2) I clearly remember, a few weeks later, getting ready to catch the school bus at some ungodly hour, trying to memorize the words to “Looking Through Patient Eyes” off the liner notes in my CD. I didn’t understand the line “I let the sandcastles kill my mind” back then, and I don’t understand it now.

(3) In summer 2000, I used a short-lived delivery service called Kozmo to have P.M. Dawn’s greatest hits CD brought directly to my door. At the time, I was living in the Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority Lodge at Emory University. (Long story.)