Happy 30th Anniversary to Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth’s second studio album The Main Ingredient, originally released November 8, 1994.
In a competition-driven genre perpetually obsessed with GOAT lists and best-of cataloging, 1994 is often cited as one of, if not the best year for hip-hop album releases from all regions. Storied debuts from Nas, Biggie, OutKast, Da Brat, O.C., and Jeru The Damaja, Cali’s continued commercial coup with Death Row’s peak and Warren G’s emergence, and seasoned sophomore sets by Common, UGK, The Coup, Redman, Organized Konfusion, and Digable Planets made for an embarrassment of rap riches perhaps only rivaled by 1988 or 1991’s generous offerings.
It could be argued that the sales and standing of Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth’s sublime second full-length LP (and third release overall) suffered as a result of swimming in this crowded sea of classic records and outsized personalities. It’s also possible fans wanted a sonic successor to their 1992 epic Mecca And The Soul Brother and weren’t ready for the more subdued sounds of its follow-up.
Or maybe it was the absence of a “T.R.O.Y. (They Reminisce Over You)” that added to this album’s underappreciation. To date, few rap records can replicate the feeling from hearing a DJ drop its Tom Scott-sampled saxophone intro at a party. Its last-joint-of-the-night status is ubiquitous to the point of exasperated cliché, turning what was once reverential bliss into “Word? ‘T.R.O.Y.’ again?” Aww yeah, again and again!
While The Main Ingredient lacks an iconic or inarguable-hit single (“I Got A Love” and “Take You There” did moderately well, but couldn’t match the success of “T.R.O.Y,” “Straighten It Out,” or “Lots of Lovin’”), its lack of a true standout speaks positively to its congruous nature, with each track seamlessly flowing into the next without jarring tempo changes or overreach. As a result, The Main Ingredient’s immaculately-sequenced 76:13 running time feels significantly shorter than its wide-ranging predecessor’s, despite lasting only one minute less than its CD counterpart (if you bought Mecca on an analog format, you were treated to an additional eight minutes and two remixes).
The Main Ingredient’s overwhelmingly warm and soul-drenched atmosphere just might represent the pinnacle of the Roosevelt Hotel Record Convention era, when NYC-bred producers like Large Professor, Q-Tip, Buckwild, Showbiz, Diamond D, Lord Finesse, and Da Beatminerz would simultaneously share and compete for rare grooves and obscure breaks to mine, combine, and manipulate for their own compositions.
This spirit of friendly rivalry and creativity is most evident on the title track, where Pete Rock subversively challenged Q-Tip to a duel of the iron beats by employing the same George Duke “North Beach” and Albino Gorilla “Psychedelic Shack” samples flipped on Midnight Marauders’ title track just one year prior. Both use Duke’s spaced-out keys as a base and the latter’s wow-wow-wow wails as a hook accent, but where Q-Tip dug out the wax to create a ball of haunting boom-bap, Pete rocked the samples into an uptempo slice of alien-invasion funk that would make our eventual robot overlords jealous. Perhaps it was clever revenge for Tip’s alleged pilfering of “Jazz (We’ve Got)” from Pete in 1991.
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Regardless, that style of layered sampling permeates The Main Ingredient, just as it did Mecca And The Soul Brother, but instead of beating us in the head with horn-laced hooks and infinite Bomb Squad-esque loops and chops, Pete Rock changed his style up and headed off would-be imitators at the pass by skillfully smoothing out his sound and making the disparate parts of each track feel like one harmonious whole.
Not to leave out C.L. Smooth, whose lyrical evolution and uncanny ability to blend perfectly with his DJ’s arrangements are just as key in contributing to the LP’s masterpiece status. While his subject matter isn’t as varied or politically pointed as on their previous outing—here he’s mostly preoccupied with women and boasting—it doesn’t need to be. C.L’s topical homogenization felt like a logical pairing with Pete’s calmer, less chaotic basement concoctions. Having already proved themselves, Da Two were clearly more interested in cultivating comfortable grooves than claiming number-one spots.
Unfortunately, much like the dearly-departed Guru, C.L. Smooth is often overlooked and undervalued by virtue of standing next to one of the genre’s most prominent practitioners. His odd vocabulary ("freaktacular," "sextafied," "meccafied," "luccified," "funktasia," "sextivity," etc.) and abstract, birds-eye-view narratives left many heads scratching, wondering what the fuck he was talking about. Ironically, this quality is partly what made “T.R.O.Y.” legendary; instead of kicking three verses about the song’s namesake, C.L. evoked emotion by earnestly honoring various family members, leaving the listener with the unspoken understanding that family, whether connected by blood or by choice, is to be cherished and celebrated.
Though nowhere near as poignant, C.L. displays similar storytelling savvy on “Tell Me,” where he drops us off and picks us up in the middle of an anecdote about wooing a woman looking for love amidst crime and family drama while weaving in and out of different first-person perspectives. His refusal to deliver a straight-ahead story requires several careful listens, but is ultimately more rewarding than a more traditionally-told tale.
Further credit must be given to Rob-O, who in addition to providing dope verses on the C.L. Smooth-less neck-snapper “Worldwide” and the astonishingly lush posse cut “In The Flesh,” assumed writing duties for Pete Rock from C.L’s cousin Grand Puba Maxwell. He made the producer sound far more confident behind the mic on the gorgeous “In The House” opener, and on his heavy, booming solo cut “Escape.”
Flawless as it may be, much of the rap-listening public slept on the LP upon release, deeming it too “soft,” too focused on the ladies, or just not Mecca And The Soul Brother-y enough. Truth is, even though Pete & C.L. alluded to aiming for a wider audience in multiple interviews, The Main Ingredient was far from a radio plea bargain, or some strong-enough-for-a-head-but-pH-balanced-for-your-mother bullshit. Even with the extra-smooth vinyl side C sequence (“All The Places” into “Tell Me” into “Take You There” into “Searching”), this was strong soul music, pure and simple. Much like De La Soul Is Dead (1991), its maturity came not from contrived attempts to tackle “adult” subject matter or “come back hard,” but from a natural shedding of the youthful exuberance that informed their first releases.
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Sadly, like Digable Planets, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth didn’t survive as a group past their sophomore full-length. Citing personal and business reasons, the duo split in 1995 and never made another album. They’ve publicly feuded and reunited for shows and the occasional track, and have threatened to record one more LP before the world blows up due to nuclear war, global warming, or any number of the things that have gone pear-shaped since 1994.
Either way, they left us with two amazing albums and one hell of an intro EP; an abbreviated catalog that outweighs far lengthier discographies. Over time, The Main Ingredient slowly gathered the props it deserved and is likely your favorite producer’s favorite LP. Many of its interstitials have been lifted for other records, from D.I.T.C.’s “Day One,” Sadat X’s “Escape From New York,” Black Star’s “Little Brother,” and even replayed by D’Angelo and Questlove for that one Voodoo interlude.
C.L. Smooth has been mostly quiet outside of two solid albums and a few guest appearances. Aside from releasing several successful vocal and instrumental solos, Pete Rock, a mainstay on many rap fans’ Producer Mount Rushmore, is still in high demand, recently collaborating with Common on their acclaimed album The Auditorium Vol. 1 (2024). Word to well-placed Biz Markie vocal samples, “Damn it feels good to see people up on it.”
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