“Paid in Full” by Eric B. & Rakim

Programming note: It’s 80s week! I’m spotlighting some of my favorite records released between 1980 and 1989. Like previous decade-themed newsletter posts, I’ve selected albums that cover multiple genres and deliberately avoided the well-worn titles that top all “best of” lists for this decade. In other words, no Thriller*,* Purple Rain*, and so on.*

If you love 80s music, check out other write-ups I’ve done on classic albums or songs from that decade.

Hope you enjoy it!

A crucial moment in hip-hop’s evolution, helping the art form forge its own unique sound.

If Run-D.M.C.’s debut shrugged off the last vestiges of the disco and funk influence by introducing harder rhymes and brawnier beats, Eric B. & Rakim’s Paid in Full refined the approach and set the template countless emcees from hip-hop’s golden era would later emulate. The near-perfection of this LP lies in its stripped-down construction. There’s no elaborate instrumentation and no code-switching for crossover appeal. Compared to modern rap, which is often drowning in a murky sea of effects and autotune, it may sound too thin for some modern ears. But, based on the crispness of the technique alone, you could also argue it crackles with more life than maybe it ever has. This LP is essential listening for anyone interested in hip-hop’s evolution from a niche genre to a sonic concept that would take over the world.

A considerable part of that historical significance is Rakim’s skill on the mic. It’s no stretch to say that he basically invents modern rap architecture on these tracks, combining complex internal rhyming schemes that are still used today with a silky-smooth delivery that never gets too high or too low. The opener, “I Ain’t No Joke,” is a dizzying display of his lyrical virtuosity, executing some hard-hitting braggadocio with the icy precision of a trained hip-hop assassin. Ditto for “I Know You Got Soul,” which you can credit with being one of the first rap cuts to use a James Brown sample to great effect, a decision that kicked off its own sub-movement of sampling culture. At one point, Rakim reveals just how obsessed he is about his craft, stating: “I start to think and then I sink/Into the paper like I was ink/When I’m writing, I’m trapped in between the lines/I escape when I finish the rhyme.” Seriously—do classic hip-hop bars get any better?

The turntablism more than keeps up its end of the bargain, too, particularly on “Eric B. is President,” which, despite Rakim’s contributions as emcee, may be my favorite track on the entire album. As a massive fan of the genre’s peak period, I don’t know of another record that’s as precise in its movements and still as enjoyable as Paid in Full.