Happy 35th Anniversary to EPMD’s second studio album Unfinished Business, originally released August 1, 1989.
What really made hip-hop’s golden age so important were the sophomore albums. Yes, the era of 1987 to 1992 is so well remembered because of the massive amount of talent that it introduced to a worldwide audience. But what gave the artists of this period their staying power was the quality of their respective second releases. One-album wonders will always be a penny a dozen during any era, but the crop of artists spawned during the late ’80s and early ’90s eventually built careers that spanned decades.
The duo EPMD is one of those groups who were able to follow a great debut album with an even better follow-up release. Erick “E-Double” Sermon and Parrish “PMD” Smith had released their initial offering, Strictly Business, in 1988. They went back into the studio almost immediately, and a little over a year later triumphantly returned with Unfinished Business.
Unfinished Business is one of the great hip-hop sophomore albums, in a category populated by such powerhouses as Public Enemy’s It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back (1988), Jungle Brothers’ Done By the Forces of Nature (1989), Boogie Down Productions’ By All Means Necessary (1988), and Eric B. & Rakim’s Follow the Leader (1988). After making their initial artistic statements, these artists found their next gear, proving to the audience that they were equipped for longevity. Unfinished Business is a clear step up both lyrically and musically for EPMD. Both Sermon and Smith were much more confident on the mic this time around. They sound seasoned and comfortable, as their delivery is sharper, their abilities more refined.
PMD stands out in particular. While the late ’80s are practically crowded with the presence of all-time great emcees like KRS-One, Big Daddy Kane, Kool G Rap, Posdnuos, and The D.O.C., PMD’s performance on Unfinished Business hasn’t received the accolades that it deserves. The Microphone Doctor is indeed “back making house-calls,” sounding confident. He raps with a cool efficiency while maintaining a menacing edge, simultaneously possessing a kind of effortless swagger that’s a hallmark of the all-time greats. It’s a performance that evokes the presence of the other Long Island-based lyrical surgeon that the group initially drew comparisons to, Rakim.
Musically, the group improved as well. As always, production credits during this era are a bit muddled, but whether it’s Sermon, PMD, or Charlie Marrotta, the group moved closer to a heavy funk driven sound that they would become synonymous with throughout the ’90s. Unfinished Business featured some of the best-produced tracks that EPMD ever rapped upon.
Furthermore, the quality of the cuts and scratches on the album takes a quantum leap forward. Both DJ K La Boss (who now goes by DJ 45) and DJ Diamond J were both solid on Strictly Business, but they were replaced by the superior George “DJ Scratch” Spivey for Unfinished Business. Scratch, who was introduced to the duo by Run-DMC’s Jam Master Jay during the “Run’s House” tour, is a maestro behind the 1’s and 2’s and the best album DJ of all time. He was able to take his very skills-oriented approach to scratching that he would display at a live show and adapt it to a studio setting.
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The vast improvements in all three areas first come together on “So Wat Cha Sayin’,” the album’s first single and opening track. While I’ve been writing for Albumism, I’ve referenced a few of my all-time favorite songs. Well, “So Wat Cha Sayin’” really may be my favorite of all time, as close as anything comes to a perfect hip-hop track.
The song’s perfection starts with the beat. First to come in are the drums, sampled from a dub-plate of Soul II Soul’s “Fairplay,” which, Sermon later noted, is an augmented version of the “Impeach the President” drum break. Distinctive snatches from a guitar breakdown from BT Express’ “If It Don’t Turn You On (You Ought To Leave It Alone)” kicks things into overdrive.
Sermon and Smith’s lyrical performances are among the strongest they’ve executed in tandem, one wrecking while the other destroys. Sermon easily switches gears from being deadly serious to injecting some humor into the track, first rapping, “Taking no shorts, showing vital signs / You can tell by my lines that I’m getting mines,” then eventually delivering a ridiculously off-key rendition of Luther Vandross’ “So Amazing.” Meanwhile, Smith rhymes like he’s just swallowed a glass of rusty nails, delivering his lines like he’s taking a razor across a sucker emcee’s neck. He raps, “’Cause I’m just the type of brother that's out to get mines / And if the odds against me, I still drop lines.” And there aren’t enough superlatives for Scratch’s contributions on the turntables, as he furiously cuts up Chuck D’s shout of “Huh-Hah!” from the song “Public Enemy #1.”
Truthfully, “So Wat Cha Sayin’” wasn’t my initial entrée into either EPMD or Unfinished Business. That would be “The Big Payback,” the album’s second single. I’d initially been drawn to it after catching the video on Yo! MTV Raps and Oakland’s local music access channel Soul Beat. Aside from a rather ridiculous plot about Sermon being abducted and held hostage by a gang of wack emcees, the video also featured footage of the duo, joined by members of N.W.A (another crew of favorites of mine at the time). Everyone involved were shown unloading rounds at a shooting range, looking like the baddest motherf***as on the planet. Though the video featured a slightly remixed version of the song, the album version is a bit more rugged and simple, with Sermon and Smith kicking verses over expertly chopped horns and guitar from James Brown’s “Payback.”
Unfinished Business is at its best when EPMD focus on dispatching suckers and kicking fly shit. The production on these types of tracks is more varied—tracks like “Total Kaos” and “Strictly Snappin’ Necks” are mid-tempo exhibitions, densely packed with various samples and scratched vocals.
EPMD take a more stripped-down approach on “Get The Bozack,” another of the album’s standout songs. Here Sermon and Smith continuously trade verses with few breaks and no hooks, passing the mic back and forth and rhyming at a furious pace with grim determination over a freaked sample of BT Express’ “Everything Good to You (Ain't Always Good for You).” While Sermon proclaims to “come correct with the context / and then vex and then flex and throw a hex on your whole complex,” Smith “stomps mudholes in posses like Gigantor.”
The duo also display improved storytelling ability throughout Unfinished Business. It’s first apparent on “Jane II,” the sequel to the final song on Strictly Business. The first entry described their initial interactions with the “skeezer” in question. The original “Jane” featured a dope beat and some solid interplay between Sermon and Smith, but suffered from a threadbare narrative. As the story continues, both Sermon and Smith both further display their expertise in passing the mic between each other, while providing details to the story that make it seem more of a lived-in space. I continue to find it endlessly entertaining that Smith envisions himself as Bruce Wayne throughout the endeavor, making reference to the “Bat-Phone” and the “Bat Utility Belt.”
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EPMD also exhibit their improved storytelling skills on “Please Listen To My Demo,” where the pair provide a glimpse of the days back when they were an up-and-coming group trying to get signed to a label. The group is excellent at conveying both the headaches and the triumphs that accompany trying to get put on. DJ Scratch has said that he also recorded a verse for the song, but that it was removed before the album was released. The track feels different from the rest of the album, mostly due to the beat, which, through utilizing a loop from Faze-O’s “Riding High,” is much smoother and more laid-back.
The guest appearance was somewhat of rarity for hip-hop releases three decades ago. Artists and groups were expected to hold a four to five minute track, dropping three to four verses each time out. All of this made K-Solo’s appearance on “Knick Knack Paddy Whack” stand out. Another of the album’s highlights, it features Sermon, Smith, and newcomer K-Solo delivering lengthy verses over a horn and piano-driven loop of Joe Cocker’s “Woman to Woman,” best known these days for its usage on 2Pac and Dr. Dre’s “California Love.”
Smith dispenses some hardcore witticisms on the song, rapping, “Because the older I get, the harder I kick / Using my rap-fu style from a rap-fu flick / Of my Bic, oh shit, another MC’s lit / Like a Jack-o-Lantern, on the Halloween tip.” But the song is best known for Solo’s two-minute closing verse, where he establishes his rugged presence and displays his spelling skills. He devotes the last third or so of his verse to his “spelling style,” which is really just him spelling out words on beat. Even though K-Solo misspells “Bird” (“Like a B-R-I-D in the S-K-Y”), he pulls off the gimmick.
The album does occasionally falter, as it features at least one of the worst songs that the duo ever released. That would be “It’s Time 2 Party,” their attempt at getting dance club spins. My hatred of hip-house has long been documented, and while I wanted to say that this is the worst track of its kind that saw the light of day, it’s pretty bad. It feels odd to say that LL Cool J did the sample of MFSB’s “Love is the Message” much more justice on Walking With A Panther (1989), released a month or so before.
Another miss is “You Had Too Much To Drink,” which I guess would qualify as EPMD’s “socially responsible” song. It’s dedicated to the dangers of drinking and driving, or just excessive drinking. Mostly, it sounds like a bad song that Run-DMC never recorded. EPMD make use of a flow that the O.G. hip-hop rhyming duo would utilize on their more serious-minded tracks, but it comes across as labored and flat. Musically, the song is soulless, and the extensive guitar work by Marotta isn’t particularly good, though he certainly tries to entertain. There are a couple decent flashes of humor, mostly from the dialogue of their homie Frank B, occasionally channeling Al Pacino as Tony Montana.
Unfinished Business ends with the autobiographical “It Wasn’t Me, It Was the Fame.” Over samples from the Delfonics’ “People Make the World Go ’Round” and David Bowie’s “Fame,” Sermon and Smith recount their ascendancy from a couple of brothers from Brentwood, Long Island to hip-hop masters, chronicling the challenges they faced and doubts they had as they developed their talents and soaked up knowledge from their role models. I’ve always remembered the sage advice of Smith’s father: “If you hang with nine broke friends, you’re bound to be the tenth one.”
Unfinished Business was an unequivocal success for EPMD, going platinum and creating a baseline of greatness for them to live up to each time out. Of course, their third album Business As Usual (1990) was even better than their first two efforts, but that’s another story. All it really took was two albums for Sermon and Smith to establish that when it came to music, they were all about their business.
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Editor's note: this anniversary tribute was originally published in 2019 and has since been edited for accuracy and timeliness.