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    Magoo, Rapper and Former Timbaland Collaborator, Dies at 50

    Melvin Barcliff, who rapped under the name Magoo, was a teenager in Virginia when he joined a hip-hop scene that still influences music today.The rapper Magoo, a foundational member of a groundbreaking hip-hop scene that emerged in Virginia in the 1990s and that included his collaborators Timbaland, Missy Elliott and Pharrell Williams, has died at 50.Magoo, whose birth name was Melvin Barcliff, died this weekend in Williamsburg, Va., according to his wife, Meco Barcliff, and a statement from his family. Barcliff said that he had no known health problems other than asthma, but that he had not been feeling well in the past week. The coroner’s office was still investigating the cause, she said.Magoo was a child when rap music was first broadcast on the radio, and he credited it with helping save him from a difficult early childhood in Norfolk, Va. At first, he thought hip-hop was something he could dance and listen to, but was made only by people in the Northeast, he said in an April 2013 interview for the hip-hop oral history collection at the College of William & Mary.As rap music began to drift from the coasts and Atlanta to radios and record stores in Virginia, Magoo realized at 14 years old that it was an art form he could practice, too. At Deep Creek High School in Chesapeake, he made friends with other teenagers who also wanted to rap including Timothy Mosley, also known as Timbaland, who became a renowned music producer.Magoo and his associates in the Virginia Beach area, including Pharrell Williams and Missy Elliott, would go on to exert a heavy influence on music in the late 1990s and early 2000s. Magoo and Timbaland formed a duo and between 1997 and 2003 put out three albums. “Welcome to Our World,” their first collaboration, included the track “Up Jumps da’ Boogie,” featuring Elliott and Aaliyah, which reached No. 12 on the Billboard Hot 100, their highest charting effort. Critics noted the project as a step in Timbaland’s development as a producer, and compared Magoo to Q-Tip, one of the rappers in the Queens group A Tribe Called Quest.On Monday morning, Timbaland posted on Instagram several videos and photos of the two together and said in one caption: “Tim and Magoo forever.”Elliott wrote on Instagram on Monday that she met Magoo when they were teenagers and that he gave her the nickname “Misdemeanor,” telling her it was because “it’s a crime to have that many talents.”Though Magoo faded from the spotlight as his early collaborators’ stars continued to rise, Barcliff said that her husband had always preferred to be behind the scenes.She said that they separated five or six years ago but that they were still family.The couple met on Aug. 10, 1996, at a club, she said. Even though Magoo was a great dancer, she said, she would learn a few months later that he did not like to go out because it was too much like being at work. “That’s when I found out: No more clubbing for me,” she said.Magoo met Tim Mosley, also known as Timbaland, in 10th grade. They were part of a group of friends who started rapping together in the 1990s.Johnny Nunez/WireImage, via Getty ImagesBarcliff said that she had a 2-year-old daughter, Detrice “Pawtt” Bickham, when they met, and that Magoo raised her as his own. As a family, they loved going to theme parks, including Busch Gardens and Kings Dominion.Magoo’s survivors include the aunt and uncle who raised him and whom he considered his mother and father, Magdaline and Hiawatha Brown, and his two sisters, Portia Brown and Lynette Hawks.In the William & Mary interview, Magoo said that his aunt, who went by Mag, inspired his rap name, Mag-an-ooh, which he then shortened.He said in the interview that his aunt took him in when he was 4 years old. He said he most likely would have been taken into state custody without his aunt’s care and he “probably would have ended up away from family and wouldn’t have been in the position to become what I was able to become.”He treasured the memory of the first time he heard a rap song, he said. He could still remember where he was standing, in another aunt’s house, when he heard the track, “Rapper’s Delight,” by the Sugarhill Gang.“It just changed my whole perspective on life because, like I said, I was, 6 or 7 at the time,” Magoo recalled. “I was only three years away from being with my real mother who had abused me, so I hadn’t completely get over that abuse, but rap music became my blanket.”Alain Delaquérière More

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    Travis Scott’s ‘Utopia’ Repeats at No. 1

    The rapper’s latest solo album is the first hip-hop release to spend more than a single week atop the Billboard 200 in over a year.Travis Scott is No. 1 on the Billboard album chart for a second time this week, while Morgan Wallen’s “Last Night” logs its 16th time as the top single.“Utopia,” Scott’s first new solo album in five years — and the first since his Astroworld Festival in 2021, where 10 people were crushed to death — holds the top spot on the Billboard 200 with the equivalent of 147,000 sales in the United States, according to the tracking service Luminate. That total includes 146 million streams and 37,000 copies of the LP sold as a complete package.With fewer rap albums topping the charts these days — country, pop, R&B and Latin have been more in favor — “Utopia” is the first in over a year to notch more than a single week at No. 1. In April 2022, Tyler, the Creator’s “Call Me if You Get Lost” logged its second time at the top, thanks to the delayed release of that album’s vinyl version. (“Call Me” had opened at No. 1 nine months before.) The last rap album to spend at least its first two weeks at No. 1 was Drake’s “Certified Lover Boy” in September 2021; it held at the top for three weeks, then later returned for another two.Wallen’s album “One Thing at a Time” is No. 2, while his song “Last Night,” a monster hit on streaming services and pop radio, holds at No. 1 on the Hot 100. With 16 weeks atop the singles chart, “Last Night” is on a rare streak, tying Luis Fonsi and Daddy Yankee’s “Despacito,” from 2017, and “One Sweet Day,” by Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men, from 1995. Only Lil Nas X’s “Old Town Road,” with 19 weeks in 2019, had a longer run at the top.Also this week, the “Barbie” soundtrack, featuring Dua Lipa, Billie Eilish and Lizzo, is the No. 3 album, and Taylor Swift logs four albums in the Top 10: “Speak Now (Taylor’s Version)” (No. 4), “Midnights” (No. 5), “Lover” (No. 6) and “Folklore” (No. 9). More

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    Fans Celebrate Hip-Hop’s 50th Anniversary

    The start of hip-hop dates to Aug. 11, 1973, when DJ Kool Herc created continuous break-beats by working two turntables during a party in a rec room at 1520 Sedgwick Ave in the Bronx. On Friday night, exactly 50 years later, a concert was held at Yankee Stadium — roughly a mile and a half from hip-hop’s birthplace — to honor the occasion, featuring Run-DMC, Slick Rick, Ice Cube, Snoop Dogg, Lil’ Kim and Nas. DJ Kool Herc, 68, also appeared onstage to accept an award.Before the show, which was billed as “Hip Hop 50 Live,” the scene outside the stadium was heavy with fans of the sounds from the ’70s, ’80s and ’90s. Middle-aged couples on date nights arrived wearing matching Adidas track suits. A man strolled the promenade carrying a boombox and wearing a Kangol hat. Hawkers sold pins with pictures of Biz Markie and The Notorious B.I.G.Outside a McDonald’s opposite the stadium, a street musician performed Tupac Shakur hits, while an in-line skater entertained the crowd with basketball tricks. Stationed beside a subway entrance was an 8-year-old rapper, Hetep BarBoy, who, accompanied by his father, was selling CDs of his album. “I prefer old-school hip-hop,” Hetep said. “I like Rakim because of his flow and the clean message he was putting into the world. He rapped about positivity, and that’s also what my music is about.”In the edited interviews below, attendees reflected on hip-hop’s 50th. Some recalled witnessing the park jams and parties that defined the genre’s beginnings.Tamika TalbotExecutive assistantJutharat Pinyodoonyachet for The New York TimesPick a side: Old-school hip-hop or new? Old-school all day. I was at the rap battles in the parks. Hip-hop came from the dirt. You had to be a lyrical assassin then. If you weren’t, you were trash. I feel if you have something to say now, you’re seen as wack. Back then your flow had to be intact.Your old-school hero? Big Daddy Kane was once the prince of hip-hop. He had crazy lyrical flow. He was super-duper fly. He was unmatched.Richard ByarsCelebrity chefJutharat Pinyodoonyachet for The New York TimesWhich old-school hero are you here to see? Ice Cube. To me he represents the beginning of hip-hop’s renaissance. But I’d never use the term “old-school.” I call artists like him “true-school.”What’s a significant hip-hop history moment for you? The public access television show “Video Music Box” was essential to hip-hop’s growth in the 1980s. All the forefathers appeared on that show.Adam JenkinsFiber optics specialistJutharat Pinyodoonyachet for The New York TimesOld-school or new? I saw the birth of hip-hop as a kid growing up in the Bronx. I was at those Sedgwick Avenue parties. I saw Cold Crush Brothers and Afrika Bambaataa. So this all goes way back for me. It’s amazing to see how hip-hop has become a global force, but when I was a kid, it was just about having fun in the park. It wasn’t about how nice your car was or how much money you had.Do you ever boast about seeing hip-hop’s birth? I do sometimes tell young people that I saw the beginning of all this, but it usually falls on deaf ears, and they don’t get it. But that kind of response is also part of hip-hop to me, because it’s a genre that’s supposed to be always evolving from its past.Lesley SmithHome-care aideJutharat Pinyodoonyachet for The New York TimesOld-school or new? For me it’s still all about Melle Mel, the Sugarhill Gang and Kurtis Blow. They’re the originals. Back in the day hip-hop was wholesome and fun. I don’t even understand it now. Primo GonzalezSecurity guardJutharat Pinyodoonyachet for The New York TimesWhat’s a significant hip-hop history moment for you? I remember seeing “Beat Street” in the movie theater in the 1980s. It was a world I already knew from seeing B-Boys on University Avenue, but for many people, that was the first time they ever saw break dancing culture.Mary Olivette BookmanFordham University music studentJutharat Pinyodoonyachet for The New York TimesWho do you consider a pioneer? Missy Elliott. She had something to say. What she was doing was sonically unique, and her skill and individuality were always immediately visible in her rap style.Who are you here to see tonight? I’m here to see them all. I want to see hip-hop history. Tonight is music education for me.Gearni ThompsonMusic marketing professionalJutharat Pinyodoonyachet for The New York TimesWhat’s a significant hip-hop moment for you? I can still remember riding in a car with my friends when I heard “Rapper’s Delight” by the Sugarhill Gang for the first time.Old-school or new? I love the old-school. I feel like the new school is about all the wrong stuff, like buying jewelry and expensive cars. Grandmaster Flash was reaching the kids in a good way. Old-school rap was about community and where we came from. It changed our lives.Ricardo VaronaStreet ball entertainerJutharat Pinyodoonyachet for The New York TimesYour old-school hero? Snoop Dogg. When he and Dr. Dre came out with “The Chronic” it shook the world. Everyone followed their way after that.What’s a significant hip-hop moment for you? An important artist who I feel is too little known now is Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam. Her hit “Can You Feel the Beat” was impossible to not want to sing and dance to when it came out.Wisdom McClurkinHospitality professionalJutharat Pinyodoonyachet for The New York TimesWho do you want to see tonight? Lil’ Kim. She’s a pioneer. She’s from the block. She’s the queen of everything. She was the blueprint. If it wasn’t for her, there would be no Nicki Minaj.William GainesRetired chefJutharat Pinyodoonyachet for The New York TimesOld-school or new? I grew up in the boogie-down Bronx, so I went to all those legendary park jams. They’d hook up the turntables and speakers, and the cops would eventually come to turn it all off. You’d see Biz Markie and Doug E. Fresh. It was a good time. It all started from nothing and became something. But it all began with us just saying to each other: “Yo, they’re having a party on Sedgwick Avenue tonight. Want to go?” More

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    How Hip-Hop Changed the English Language Forever

    In 50 years, rap transformed the English language, bringing the Black vernacular’s vibrancy to the world. “Dave, the dope fiend shootin’ dope.” — Slick Rick, “Children’s Story” (1988) “Dopeman, dopeman!” — N.W.A, “Dope Man” (1987) Did you ghost me? 👻 Read 10:28 PM Homer Simpson going ghost. We unpacked five words — dope, woke, cake, […] More

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    ‘All Up in the Biz’ Review: Showtime’s Biz Markie Documentary

    Biz Markie created hits like “Just a Friend” and influenced a wide range of rappers, many of whom remember him fondly in this Showtime documentary.Biz Markie’s death in 2021, at the way-too-young age of 57, robbed hip-hop — hell, robbed American music, period — of one of its most idiosyncratic and singular talents.“All Up in the Biz,” a new documentary directed by Sacha Jenkins, is a cogent, affectionate and largely apt tribute to Markie, the D.J. and rapper who was known as a gifted beatboxer.The documentary uses animation along with comedic and dramatic sketches to underscore Markie’s irresistibly antic nature. For instance, while there are no documentary scenes of his extended hospitalization before his death, the artist’s wife, Tara Hall, re-enacts the loving care she gave to her husband, who’s played in the dramatization by a bemused-looking puppet.Even as the movie portrays Markie — whose birth name was Marcel Theo Hall and who is frequently referred to by friends as “Mark” — as a clown prince whose humor was a way of deflecting and transcending a tough childhood, it charts the near-parallel development of Bronx-bred hip-hop and its Long Island brand, with Markie a stellar representative of the latter. In his early days, the rapper worked on his lyrics and delivery with the Juice Crew, a collective in Queens, before he released his first EP.With respect to commercial development, Markie was, as the cliché goes, crazy like a fox, even if his charms weren’t immediately appreciated. The entertainment veteran Bernard Alexander recalls hearing the eccentrically drippy “Just a Friend” in demo form and throwing the cassette off a hotel balcony. Months later it was Markie’s breakthrough single, and the burly, goofy guy behind it was a pop star.“You get a little jealous when someone loves hip-hop more than you do,” the rapper and record producer Rakim, a close friend, says here. “Biz made me jealous.”All Up in the BizNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 40 minutes. Watch on Showtime platforms. More

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    How Hip-Hop Conquered the World

    How Hip-HopConqueredthe World A crowd in Harlem watching Doug E. Fresh, 1995.David Corio The Great Read How Hip-Hop Conquered the World Fifty years ago, a party in the Bronx jumpstarted an essential American artform. For decades the genre has thrived by explaining the country to itself. Aug. 10, 2023, 5:00 a.m. ET We’ve gathered here […] More

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    Too Short’s Long (and Very Raunchy) Life in Rap

    When Too Short walks onstage, before he says anything else, he asks: “What’s my favorite word?” And audiences of thousands shout: “Biiiiiitch!”When Too Short says “biiiiiitch,” it’s less of a word and more of an incantation. He stretches it out, savors its taste. He always sounds unflappable on record, but when he belts out that particular word, it lands with a slight electric charge. It sounds playful, arrogant, angry, disgusted, maybe even amazed; you hear a vast spectrum of human emotions in it. He knows the word is rude and offensive. Since the mid-80s, he has been pushing hip-hop’s coarser edges to their logical conclusion, rapping legends of his own sexual prowess: phantasmagorical erotic adventures, set in a blaxploitation-inspired East Oakland full of pimps and prostitutes, delivered in the lingo of X-rated ’70s comedians like Richard Pryor and Rudy Ray Moore. “Biiiiiitch!” isn’t the only thing that he says, but it’s his signature. On “Rappers’ Ball,” a 1996 track from his longtime friend E-40, he explained his relationship with the word in one economical punchline: “They always said I couldn’t rap, I just say ‘bitch’/I guess the bitch made me rich.”Listen to This ArticleFor more audio journalism and storytelling, More

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    The Future of Rap Is Female

    The Future of Rap Is Female As their male counterparts turn depressive and paranoid, it’s the women who are having all the fun. Aug. 9, 2023 Like American men in general, our top male rappers appear to be in crisis: overwhelmed, confused, struggling to embody so many contradictory ideals. As a result, the art is […] More