Essential Useless Records Vol. 1

There is no good reason for this to exist. I should know, because if ever there was a target audience for a Group Home live album it would be me. For me, GH's Livin' Proof is one of the great hip-hop albums of the '90s. It's better than The Chronic. (Not that I've got anything against The Chronic. But if you told me that I'd never be allowed to hear The Chronic again I wouldn't be too upset. If you told me that I'd never be allowed to hear Livin' Proof again then we'd have a serious problem.) 

But the rappers are wack, everyone always says. You know what - who cares? They say funny, memorable sh*t (e.g. "I'm eating curry chicken and rice/And these hoes look nice") and their voices sound great over Premier's beats - which just happen to be the best beats Preemo's ever made. When I glowingly reviewed it for Rap Pages BITD I was furious when the (L.A.-based) editors (two of whom would later join the ranks of the ego trip People) changed my rating from an '8' to a '7' without telling me, while elsewhere in that same review section I think the Mannish album (you know, the guys down with this rap icon) got a '9'. Mannish. (I've never really forgiven ego trip's L.A. posse for that one.) At that point in my heavily regionally biased rap writer life that was proof enough for me that my Westside brethren would never understand real hip-hop. (I've, of course, since learned to be a little more open-minded. A little.)

Yet for all my love and support of Lil' Dap and Melachi the Nutcracker, and their Brainsick Enterprises and A-Mob associates, even I cannot endorse the musical massacre that is Group Home Live in London. I've probably listened to Livin' Proof hundreds of times but in all the years I've possessed Live in London I've never been able to sit through it once from start to finish. In fact, nobody really needs to hear this - unless perhaps you're planning on recording your own live rap album and need an example of what not to do: The recording levels fluctuate unpredictably, the hype men's mics are significantly louder than Dap's and Mel's, there's minimal crowd participation, Lil' Dap repeatedly asks for the lights to be turned down to the point where you start to suspect it's some sort of behavioral tic, and the set eventually goes off the rails into some sloppy posse cut that I never heard of because I guess I'm just not a big enough Group Home fan. Oh, and if you thought Melachi's rapping was bad on the album wait till you hear him on the version of "Supa Star" here. (I only hope there was an oxygen mask somewhere backstage.)

So why is this a permanent fixture in my record collection? (Keep in mind it doesn't even come with any cool artwork - just a plain white 12" sleeve.) Because like I said up top there's no good reason for it. It makes no sense. There's zero entertainment value in this recording - it's not bad enough to be fun to listen to (although I suppose you can judge for yourself here). But I just love the fact that it somehow got made, a terrible idea seen to its fruition. I'll never get rid of this record even if I never listen to it again. It is an essential useless record.