Happy 30th Anniversary to Method Man’s debut solo album Tical, originally released November 15, 1994.
I used to love playing outside as a kid. So much so, that on a Saturday afternoon in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, the worst punishment for me was to be stuck in the house on a Saturday afternoon, missing what seemed like all the fun in West Baltimore. Besides the early morning cartoons, and my mother’s good cooking, the only thing that could pull me from the streets for an hour or two was our local channel WNUV’s Black Belt Theater, where I could watch Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan, and Chuck Norris flicks right around mid-day.
The overall production wasn’t crisp, sometimes the cinematography was grainy and the acting a bit raw, but it was aggressive, competitive, and seemed authentic to the rough environment it was portraying. The sound effects crashed loudly through the speakers of our 27-inch floor model Zenith, and the credits boldly bounced to the forefront of the screen to let us know whose film you were watching. This was a big afternoon adrenaline rush for a 10-year-old boy taking a break from full contact, unpadded football or rough house basketball, before returning to the streets to apply my newly acquired karate skills on my best friends.
This was my boyish routine circa 1992 when I first saw a group named the Wu-Tang Clan debut a music video called “Protect Ya Neck” on my favorite cable television station. I was nothing short of captivated. The song and video completely broke the mold of the contemporary playlist which consisted of songs like Dr. Dre’s “Nuthin’ But a ‘G’ Thang” and Positive K’s “I Got a Man.” The gritty black and white frame looked like it was shot without permits, in the back of an abandoned warehouse and on public housing rooftops. The time-stamp of the video recorder hadn’t even been edited out of some frames, and the bizarre names of the seemingly endless list of emcees flashed across the screen in bright colors.
For a boy a few years shy of teenage-hood, this was awesome! The synergy of the Kung-Fu flick subgenre and hardcore East Coast hip-hop was a mashup of everything important in my life. The group generated a healthy buzz with that first song, but it was the next time we saw them that officially launched their takeover.
On a song titled “Method Man,” a crude piano warm-up proceeded the voice of a group member by the name of the GZA, who dramatically announced the entire group including the star for this particular episode. “From the slums of Shaolin, Wu-Tang Clan strikes again. The RZA, GZA, Ol’ Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, Raekwon the Chef, U-God, Ghostface Killah and…” sent chills up my spine the way Black Belt Theater films would introduce the supporting cast, including villains before finally announcing the leading man and hero. The dusty drums set in with the eerie piano chords, and a raspy, almost hoarse male voice sings “M-E-T-H-O-D Man.” The song was infectious from the opening bars to the now famous prologue delivered by Ghostface which explains “Y’all have just been taken through the 36 Chambers of death kid!” This sparked the Wu-Tang frenzy for just about everyone I knew at the time and continues into our adulthood.
From their inception, Wu-Tang Clan distinguished themselves amongst a crowded and extremely talented landscape of hip-hop artists, where Snoop Dogg was about to break Billboard records and young emcees like The Notorious B.I.G. and Nas were buzzing throughout the East Coast. The group followed their sophomore single, which spotlighted perhaps its most charismatic member, with the cinematic street anthem “C.R.E.A.M.,” where Method Man’s husky vocals seasoned the already savory song that has endured as a timeless, genre-defining gem. Wu-Tang Clan’s debut album Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) would not only achieve critical and commercial success in 1993, but it sparked arguably the biggest movement in hip-hop history.
Listen to the Album:
The nine-emcee posse, mostly hailing from New York City’s “forgotten borough” of Staten Island would rise to the forefront of the music industry, unexpectedly like their namesake of misfit swordsmen would challenge the throne of Shaolin in epic Kung-Fu film battles. Before the heat from their collaborative LP could sizzle, the members had secured individual recording contracts, with plans for all members to release solo projects. Heading into 1994 there was no greater anticipation for a Wu-Tang member’s next musical move than the raspy voiced Method Man, who seemed to leave a major impact on every track he blessed, whether it was a solo song like “M.E.T.H.O.D. Man”, a featured hook like “C.R.E.A.M.” or merely the humor of misplacing Raekwon’s “Killer Tape” on a 36 Chambers interlude.
As the first Clan member to release a solo project following their debut LP’s breakthrough success, Method Man set out to continue the group’s upward trajectory with his solo inaugural effort Tical. Just before Halloween of my seventh grade school year, my friends and I would receive the first official gem from Meth, when he released “Bring the Pain” on October 25, 1994. The spooky beat provided by RZA was grim enough to have fit on Wu-affiliate Gravediggaz’ 6 Feet Deep, the “horrorcore” LP released just a few months prior. A slight change of pace from the “”M.E.T.H.O.D. Man” a year earlier, “Bring the Pain” saw Meth execute a weed scented version of a style Das EFX helped introduce in 1992 with random injections of pop culture references.
There was nothing cute about “Bring the Pain” as you could tell from the title. The deliberate beat paced Meth’s piercing lyrics like “Movin' on your left/ southpaw, Mr. Meth / came to represent and carve my name in your chest / you can come test, realize you're no contest / son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West.” The song went on to become an anthem for our juvenile mischief at West Baltimore Middle School and achieved commercial success as well, cracking Billboard’s Hot 100 and Hot Dance charts. Comedian Chris Rock would name his 1996 comedy tour and hit HBO comedy special after the song and credit Meth’s aggressiveness as a motivator for his signature on-stage delivery.
Tical’s biggest accomplishment was its third and final single “All I Need.” The ghetto love ballad saw the hardcore rapper open himself up to more sentimental rhymes like “There’s a few things that's forever, my lady / we can make war or make babies / back when I was nuttin’ / you made a brother feel like he was something / that's why I'm with you to this day boo, no frontin.’” Such vulnerability from an otherwise troublesome neighborhood pot-head struck a chord with female hip-hop listeners, and spawned two successful remixes which kept Tical’s album sales soaring through 1995. Both remixes featured the Queen of Hip-Hop Soul, Mary J. Blige, one produced by Puff Daddy and the other by RZA. Both interpolate Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell’s 1968 hit “You’re All I Need to Get By” and even inspired a revised title. The RZA’s version dubbed the Razor Sharpe Remix earned a GRAMMY Award for Best Rap Performance by a Duo or Group.
Inside the 43-minute LP, songs like “What the Blood Clot?” and “Biscuits” serve as microcosms of the entire project. Short and to the point, the tracks seem disinterested in scoring as hit records, but provide catharsis for the artist. Most of Tical takes you to the back alleys, project hallways, or as GZA once put it, directly to the slums of Shaolin (Staten Island). The entire album is a smoker’s anthem, where I’m sure if you listen intently enough, you can catch a contact high
“Meth vs. Chef” is also noteworthy, the playful battle between Method Man and Raekwon provides insight into the competitive earlier days that helped the Wu-Tang swordsmen sharpen their skills before we heard them on “Protect Ya Neck.” “Mr. Sandman” reunites several Clansmen and is an early testament to Meth’s affiliate Streetlife’s ability to shine among the more prominent members.
Watch the Official Videos:
Tical has caught some undeserved flak from critics regarding its overall quality. With the high anticipation for a solo project from one of Wu-Tang’s frontmen following the success of Enter the Wu Tang (36 Chambers), the LP was seemingly trawled together to meet the growing demands of “Wu-mania.” With the benefit of hindsight 25 years later, the reality is that RZA and Meth were still promoting the 36 Chambers LP while composing Tical at the same time. Additionally, each Wu-Tang member was still honing their respective crafts in 1994, so the comparisons to subsequent projects like Only Built 4 Cuban Linx… and Liquid Swords may not be fair without considering the full situational context. Either way, Tical needs no explanation or apologies in my opinion, as it has earned commercial accolades and street credibility that few hardcore albums have ever achieved.
Tical was a lead-off double, a timely hit that put the Clan in scoring position to run the table in hip-hop for nearly the next decade. It’s dark content that at times gave glimpses of rugged romance and twisted comedy, proving that Method Man possesses one of the widest ranges of commercial appeal for any hip-hop artist in history.
His signature raspy voice would continue to create some of the most memorable moments for his fellow Clansmen, while his unique brand of lyricism would be requested by peers such as The Notorious B.I.G, and 2Pac. Neo Soul icon Erykah Badu would tap Meth for his on-screen charm in her music video for the 1997 single “Next Lifetime,” while comedic legends like Adam Sandler would use his sinister wit in films like 2014 The Cobbler. Indeed, Method Man has had one of the most successful crossover careers, having the distinction of acting in acclaimed dramatic roles like HBO’s hit series The Wire and the 2012 war film Red Tails.
Hip-hop would become nearly my sole preoccupation as I entered my adolescence, and Tical stayed in heavy rotation for over a year. It contained all the bravado I loved about my favorite films featured on Black Belt Theater. Too rough for some but authentic to its environment and mine, revisiting the album now in my adulthood provides insight into the development of masculine concepts like relationship vulnerability and small group competitiveness. Considering its full cultural impact, Tical sits among an elite group of LPs that helped define the character of kids like me who had the privilege of coming of age in the ‘90s.
LISTEN:
Editor's note: this anniversary tribute was originally published in 2019 and has since been edited for accuracy and timeliness.