Happy 25th Anniversary to Keith Murray’s second studio album Enigma, originally released November 26, 1996.
When he got his first opportunity to make a name for himself, Keith Murray hit the ground running. As one of the stars of hip-hop’s class of 1994, he burst onto the scene with his mind-bending debut album The Most Beautifullest Thing in This World. A legit tough guy surging with lyrical skill and personality, he stood out amongst his peers, and was a critical and commercial success.
The Central Islip, Long Island native had long rolled with the L.O.D. (Legion of Doom), a collective of street-seasoned emcees. However, he had also allied himself with hip-hop legend Erick Sermon post-EPMD breakup and had become one of the core members of the Def Squad, the Green-Eyed Bandit’s new crew. Sermon was entering his mini production renaissance during this time, which coincided with the release of The Most Beautifullest and Redman’s Dare Iz a Darkside (1994).
By 1996, Sermon was moving in a somewhat different direction with his production. Long-known for the deep and muddy funk sound of the EPMD albums, by the mid-1990s, Sermon was crafting more soulful and jazzy tracks that still maintained their distinct hip-hop flavor. It’s this sound that dominates Keith Murray’s Enigma, released 25 years ago. It’s one of the more overlooked sophomore albums, reflecting the growth of both Murray and Sermon in their respective fields.
Enigma is Murray at his artistic peak as a solo artist, as it’s a more focused effort than his debut. Erick Sermon again handles the lion’s share of the production and keeps a feel similar to his own sophomore album, Double or Nothing (1995). Sermon keeps the beats mid-tempo, only occasionally slowing things down. They contrast well with Murray’s boundless energy and raspy vocals.
On a few tracks, Murray and Sermon keep things dark, like “Call My Name,” the album’s initial salvo. Here Murray rhymes with grim determination, rapping, “With virtuality, poetry I successfully bring crews agony in virtual reality.” More often, Enigma’s offerings are in the vein of tracks like “Manifique” and “What a Feelin’,” where Murray delivers his rugged rhymes over smoother grooves.
“Manifique (Original Rules)” features one of Murray’s best performances of his career. Keith gets ill over a subtle keyboard groove, channeling his fierce aggression. “I holla Allah U Akhbar my peeps hold me down,” he barks. “In the roughest pair of Timbs that ever touched the ground / Huh! How’s about a broken jaw? / It’s Keith Murray and I'm coming in with the raw metaphors!”
Sermon provides slinky, creeping grooves on some of Enigma’s best entries. On “Whut’s Happenin’,” he replays elements of the Thelonious Monk jazz standard “’Round Midnight,” while on “Hot to Def,” he takes loops from a portion of Ohio Players’ “Laid It.” But Murray’s flow on both is as menacing as ever, still packing more syllables into his bars than seem possible. He comes out swinging throughout “Whut’s Happenin’,” rapping, “For the cause, I’m wiring jaws / Got n****s eating four-course meals out of Krazy Straws / And if it ain’t def it ain’t shit / I’m taking it to the limit and killing it each and every minute.”
Murray occasionally goes with what’s worked for him historically. The first single from Enigma, “The Rhyme,” sounds like a sequel/update of “The Most Beautifullest Thing in This World.” Like Murray’s very first single, Sermon samples a crowd-pleaser, this time allowing Murray to let loose to Maze’s barbecue anthem “Before I Let Go.” The familiarity of the groove doesn’t prevent Murray from “punching emcees dead in their esophagus.” He maintains his complex flow and expansive vocabulary but tones down the malapropisms. “My hypothesis on this is you n****s better come in terms of my vocabulary quick or get dissed,” he raps. “My brain bleeds mental complex feeds / Bring it on kid, I got exactly what you need.”
Sermon doesn’t handle all of Enigma’s production, as The Ummah collective (Q-Tip, Ali Shaheed Muhammad, and J Dilla) does some primo work behind the boards. With “Dangerous Ground,” they create a track that would have fit in well on A Tribe Called Quest’s Beats, Rhymes and Life (1996). Murray tag-teams with his L.O.D. cohort 50 Grand, bouncing off each other like bumper cars. The Ummah also remix “The Rhyme” for Enigma, titled the “Slum Village Mix.” This was the first time I ever remember seeing “Slum Village” in association with Dilla.
The L.O.D. crew makes a pair of appearances on Enigma. Murray teams with Kel Vicious on the aptly titled “Rhymin’ Wit Kel.” The track is hip-hop simplicity with Murray and Kel trading verses over the bassline breakdown from Le Pamplemousses’s “Gimme What You Got.” Kel and 50 Grand return to team with Murray on the sparse “Love L.O.D.” All three continuously pass the mic back and forth, delivering short verses, backed by a few chopped piano notes and a rugged drum track. Murray is clearly the most skilled lyricist in the crew, and his presence is enough to carry both tracks.
Murray teams with a few of his contemporaries on “Yeah,” a mostly forgotten posse cut featuring Busta Rhymes and the rest of the Def Squad (Sermon, Redman, and Jamal). The emcees (with the exception of Sermon) are in nearly perfect form. Busta, then in the midst of his ascent to becoming a hip-hop superstar, delivers a boisterous and tongue-twisting verse, rapping, “Rhyme calisthenics will make you see the medic / Shit will break you down in order from A to Z like the alphabetics.” Even though Redman can’t quite match Busta’s energy, he still contributes the track’s best verse. “Ain't nobody fuckin' with me, the potency that I blow from my mouth with no doubt would choke Jesus,” he raps.
Though most of Enigma is concerned with Murray (and crew) dispensing verbal slaughter, he switches things up a bit towards the tail-end of the album. Keith expresses his fondness for touring on “World Be Free,” listing destinations around the world where he tore the stage down. “To My Mans” is Murray’s poignant dedication to friends who tragically died while he was working to achieve his dreams. He reminisces about finding any way possible to make his money, through either rapping or illegal means. Murray also explains how their lives continue to motivate and inspire him to improve the lives of the people he came up with. “I'm on a rage against the machine, what I mean,” he raps. “I want to see my people with more than just first of the month cream / The situation’s always looking grim / Pregnant teenagers with kids that can't take care of ’em.”
Murray recorded and released Enigma during a time of personal turmoil, as he dealt with an impending court case. In 1995, he was accused and arrested in Connecticut for hitting a man with a barstool. Murray maintained his innocence but was convicted and sentenced to three years in prison. All things considered, it’s amazing how unfazed Murray sounds throughout Enigma.
Murray’s legal issues eventually hampered his career. In late 1998, after being free on bond during the appeal of his sentence, the judge in his assault case ordered Murray to begin serving his three-year sentence in a Connecticut prison. This led to him going on the lam for a month, evading the authorities in an attempt to stave off incarceration. Against the rapper’s wishes, Jive Records released a yet-to-be completed third album, It’s a Beautiful Thing (1999), while he was locked down. From there, his relationship with the label completely soured.
Murray did well commercially in the early ’00s, especially after signing with Def Jam, as he began moving away from having Sermon being the central conductor of his sound and began moving towards what would sell more records. These days, Murray primarily works within the confines of the underground, focusing on releasing his albums independently. Enigma presents the best of all worlds as a whole, allowing him to create crowd-pleasers while still maintaining his razor-like lyrical edge.
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