FEATURE:
The Next Movement
The Roots’ Things Fall Apart at Twenty-Five
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A seminal album from…
the late-1990s, The Roots released Things Fall Apart on 23rd February, 1999. I wanted to look ahead to its twenty-fifth anniversary and spotlight an incredible work. Recording sessions for Things Fall Apart took place at Electric Lady Studios between 1997 and 1998. This was happening at the same time as recording for other projects of the Soulquarians collective, including D'Angelo's Voodoo (2000), Erykah Badu's Mama's Gun (2000), and Common's Like Water for Chocolate (2000). Expanding The Roots collective and membership, Things Fall Apart featured, among others, D'Angelo, Questlove, Erykah Badu and Q-Tip. One of the greatest albums of all time, features about the album are quite deep and expansive. I am going to select some segments from a few of them. Stereogum marked twenty years of Things Fall Apart in February 2019:
“Rap always had a heavy reliance on sampling since its younger days. In 1999, the Roots were manipulating samples while incorporating live instrumentation with leanings from other genres and ultimately packaging the hodgepodge of sounds as hip-hop. Lines can not only be drawn to the rest of the Soulquarian projects, but all the way to contemporary albums that synthesize a heavy dose of another genre with rap, like Chance’s gospel-doused Coloring Book, Noname’s neo soul-leaning Room 25, and Kendrick Lamar’s jazz-tinged To Pimp A Butterfly. When TPAB debuted, one of the album’s main producers, Terrace Martin, cited the Roots as a source of inspiration, giving him the confidence to know that “any genre can be folded into rap.”
Lyrically, Black Thought established himself as your favorite MC’s favorite MC on Things Fall Apart as well, long before he had a scroll from Jimmy Fallon for recognition (as if he needed one), cosigns from Harvard, articles in the New Yorker, or the title of the unofficial most underrated rapper of all time.
Thought is the backbone of the band — the ever-steady lyrical virtuoso who is often the binder of the group’s experimentation and eclecticism. Here, he’s often rhyming about how other rappers are going commercial, echoing the opening dialogue of Denzel Washington’s Bleek Gilliam and Wesley Snipes’ Shadow Henderson from Mo’ Better Blues, featured on Things Fall Apart’s intro. Gilliam and Henderson were debating what made artists popular in the jazz age. Henderson said, “The people don’t come because you grandiose motherfuckers don’t play shit that they like.” Thought and the Roots know that they are the “real” alternative to what’s ruling the radio, but the pocket that Thought sits in lyrically marries the unconventional combination of R&B-infused sonics with aggressive cadences listeners were more accustomed to at the time. Thought is the bridge between the old and new Roots, old and new soul, and old and new rap — all with a unique style and lyricism matched by very few.
Things Fall Apart is much more than the effort that established the Roots. It’s a blueprint for reinvention, genre-blending, sonic risk-taking, raw lyricism, and unflinching politics all in one. Conscious-leaning giants J. Cole and Kendrick Lamar would not have been able to grow so tall without the Roots anchoring them, and this album’s legacy will inspire many more to come. In a country and world where leaders are seemingly hell-bent on perpetuating divisive attitudes, policies, and systems, amplifying the voices of the underrepresented and disenfranchised becomes that much more imperative. The Roots have lifted those voices beautifully for over 25 years now, and continue to do so as the sole predominantly black band that appears on television regularly at the moment. Sure, they don’t have a voice or presence on TV more fitting for their legacy, but by taking up that space they’re making room for the next band to have that voice and presence. So you can see this band as sidekicks now, if you’d like, but you have to keep your ear to the ground to truly hear the Roots”.
A Deluxe Edition of Things Fall Apart was released in 2019. GRAMMY wrote about The Roots’ 1999 masterpiece in a 2019 feature. They argue how The Roots deepened Hip-Hop. Also, Things Fall Apart was only the start of a run of albums that were world-class and essential. 2002’s Phrenology is another masterpiece. The words throughout Things Fall Apart are as relevant and stirring now as they were back in 1999:
“We joke about it — there's that "J. Cole went platinum with no features" meme—but some of rap's overachievers end up doing just that. The Roots were perhaps one of the first acts in hip-hop history where maybe it wasn't immediately clear what the song was about. And while rap had always been built on borrowing and homage and one-upping, all sorts of open-source tools and watching a chant or catchphrase evolve into something else in real time, the Philadelphia group felt like its first meta commentators, deconstructing the medium as a whole and its tropes within their work itself. Lord knows they didn’t condescend to their peers (which matters when your lead vocalist is named Black Thought), though they occasionally indulged their bratty side (see the 1996 "rap video manual" "What They Do").
But just by existing, the Roots are often viewed as a fount of respectability politics: "They're rappers who play real instruments!" you’ve surely overheard one exasperated white rock fan say to another. Actually, let's zoom out entirely. How they're really viewed in 2019 is as Jimmy Fallon's house band and their elastic ability to perform on any guest's song, no matter the genre, possibly diminishes their artistic identity rather than augmenting it. Despite the fact the Roots tie Jay-Z as rap’s most consistent album artists for 20 years now, they’re rarely part of The Conversation.
You could say people so take the Roots' greatness for granted that whatever amazing thing they're currently saying or doing exists in a different universe than the one engaging luminaries from Drake to Nicki Minaj to Future to Juice WRLD. Or you could say they aren’t considered great at all. Black Thought is often referred to as an "MC's MC," which by definition means he’s undervalued by the audience. No one doubts Ahmir "Questlove" Thompson is a world-class drummer, but he's treated more as the Dave Grohl of rap, a genial everydude who’s friends with everybody and checks in with a predictable new album every few years. Sure, but only if greatness in itself is boringly predictable.
Things Fall Apart, which just turned 20, is rightfully celebrated as a groundbreaking collection of music; it courted real sales, and had a real hit. "You Got Me," a Jill Scott co-write that Erykah Badu's hook curled around like smoke, won a real GRAMMY in 1999. And 2002's expansive, almost psychedelically varied follow-up, Phrenology, continued the hit streak with "The Seed 2.0," though it was a larger staple of alt-rock stations' playlists than rap ones. And then quietly, respectfully, their next six studio albums were damned with strong reviews and consistent sales in the five-to-six digits without threatening radio or year-end lists ever again. This was particularly unjust for the incredible hot streak of Game Theory, Rising Down, and How I Got Over from 2006 to 2010, but the quality of The Tipping Point, undun, and …And Then You Shoot Your Cousin is also taken for granted.
Things Fall Apart is not the Roots' masterpiece, but rather the beginning of them making masterpieces. Its unforgettable cover art aside, with two terrified black people fleeing white police on foot, most of the album's depth is musical. Before Genius existed, Questlove was happy to fill the Roots' CD booklets with footnotes to help any listener place the cymbal-heavy opener "Table of Contents (Parts 1 & 2)" as a tribute to the "sloppy tambourine" of Marley Marl and "horrible mixing" of the Jungle Brothers. The drums on "Step Into the Realm" keep fading out as an homage to the breaks our heroes had to loop as kids from the ends of other songs where the only isolated drum sounds they could grab would fade out. The backing track of "Without a Doubt" is built entirely from a sample of their fellow hometown hero Schoolly-D.
Old-school rap was the foundation of Things Fall Apart, down to the back-and-forth mic-trading between Black Thought and Mos Def on "Double Trouble." But the hyper-time drum-and-bass that Questlove lays under the final chorus of "You Got Me," J Dilla's creaky deep-crate jazz on "Dynamite!" and the Jazzyfatnastees' hocketing vocals on "The Next Movement" were all expanding the sonic palates of millennial rap fans. The group embraced their progressivism visually, too, building on the subversive "What They Do" with two more Charles Stone III-directed videos: "You Got Me" remixed Radiohead's infamously open-ended "Just" clip, while the mini visual marvels of “The Next Movement,” rival anything Spike Jonze directed in the '90s.
The album cover and title of the Roots' third album were perhaps better suited to their darker later work, which became crucially political, but at least it established an urgency for the group, one they deserve to get back. Because the true theme song of Things Fall Apart is the centerpiece "Act Too (The Love of My Life)," whose titular inamorata is hip-hop itself, and that song's own music sounded like a successor to "The Cosby Show" theme, which at one time was another example of Philly pride. Making an album about how much you love what you do doesn’t sound like a radical concept, necessarily. But it’s an uplifting one, and when it busts open the doors that permit you to do so much more of it, well, that’s the beginning of a revolution, no”.
Prior to getting to some reviews, I want to bring in another twentieth anniversary feature around The Roots’ Things Fall Apart. Albumism pointed out how the album is so strong (among other reasons) because of its collaborative spirit. That collective mindset and sense of togetherness that runs through Things Fall Apart is clear:
“Things Fall Apart is the product of a particularly fertile creative time for the group. James Poysner became an integral component of The Roots’ production crew during this period, and continued to work with Questlove and others as a member of the Soulquarians. Meanwhile, Scott Storch, the group’s original keyboardist, was growing into his own as a producer, and continued to shape the group’s sound on Things Fall Apart from behind the boards. The album was recorded in Manhattan’s famed Electric Ladyland studios around the same time as D’Angelo’s Voodoo (2000), Erykah Badu’s Mama’s Gun (2000), and Common’s Like Water For Chocolate (2000), all classics in their own right. There was a lot of production and sound overlap between each of the albums, though each one maintained its own distinct and unique identity. The group allegedly recorded close to 150 tracks for the project, before whittling them down to 14 full songs and four interludes.
“The Next Movement” is a prime example of how The Roots have created hip-hop that satisfies the core audience as well as casual listeners. Centered around a graceful piano track and background vocals from the R&B group the Jazzyfatnastees, Black Thought conducts a lyrical clinic, likening his emcee existence to that of the life of a plant, rapping “The Black Thought, ill syllablist out the Fifth / This heavyweight rap shit I’m about to lift / Like a phylum lift up it's seed to sunlight / I plug in the mic, draw like a gunfight / I never use a cordless, or stand applaud-less / Sipping chlorophyll out of ill silver goblets.”
The Roots also have time to collaborate with their long-time musical kindred spirits. Black Thought passes the mic back-and-forth with the Mighty Mos Def on “Double Trouble.” Apparently, fellow Black Star-member Talib Kweli was originally intended to appear on the track, but it would have made the song too long. It turns out that keeping it limited to Thought and Mos is extremely effective regardless, with the duo kicking old school influenced routines and rhyme schemes over a beat that evokes Bob James’ classic “Nautilus” break. Mos starts off strong, rhyming, “A-yo I stop fools and drop jewels but never run it / Rock mics so nice I make you stock price plummet,” while Thought warns that “I burst your verses, your words is worthless / Only touching surface, the fuck’s the purpose?”
Common joins The Roots for the memorable “Act Too (The Love of My Life),” a functional sequel to Common’s “I Used to Love H.E.R.,” released five years earlier. It’s one of the album’s most beautiful and melodic songs, featuring a full string section and ethereal vocals. Black Thought and Common both continue to speak to hip-hop as though she’s their most steady love personified, marveling at the impact “she” has had on their lives, shaping who they are and defining how they view themselves. It represents a time before artists became so jaded and cynical that they were unable to talk about truly loving hip-hop music.
This sincerity is one of the key aspects that makes Things Fall Apart so memorable and such an enduring piece of work. Making an album that earns you the respect of peers, critics, the general public, and the award circuit is a difficult feat, but it’s one that the Illa-Fifth Dynasty pulls off without breaking a sweat. During an era dominated by jiggy rap and glossy fantasies, nothing about Things Fall Apart was disposable. The album presented The Roots as they were and still are today: a product of their influences with the ability to move forward and generate a lasting musical legacy”.
I will finish up with a couple of reviews. Audioxide shared their thoughts about the iconic and timeless Things Fall Apart in 2019. I don’t think it gets talked about as much as it should in relation to the most important albums of the 1990s. It is a work of genius:
“André
Things Fall Apart is a seriously solid offering of smooth hip-hop. Stop the presses. The third studio album by The Roots is comfortably their finest achievement, and it’s aged like a fine wine since its released 20 years ago. Given the melancholic tone, it’s amazing just how easy and enjoyable it is to listen to. Things Fall Apart is a fluid, continuous listen; understated to the point of being an excellent backdrop, which is both a blessing and a curse. It’s appropriately structured and remains focused throughout its 70-minute duration, and this is particularly alluring for a modern listener given the amount of over-bloated rap albums we’re dealt with every single year.
I don’t think it’s farfetched to suggest that To Pimp A Butterfly may not have existed if it wasn’t for this record. Jazzy instrumentals and thoughtful flows set it apart from the majority of hip-hop classics from the ’90s, most of which were gangster rap. But not many political albums happen to be this groovy. The sequencing flows wonderfully: it’s just track after track with no interruptions.
However, this also prevents anything from Things Fall Apart from truly standing out. I thoroughly enjoy the listening experience, but nothing particularly grabs me in the way I wish it did. There isn’t anything in the realms of “N.Y State of Mind”, “Nuthin’ but a ‘G’ Thang” or “Regulate”. That’s not to criticise the record as much as it is to suggest that it’s perhaps not quite on the same level as other favourites that came out from the golden age of rap. Things Fall Apart is a very good hip-hop record all the same. Though it may get lost among a sea of classics, it still deserves your utmost attention.
Fred
In many respects it’s commendable that an album can last over 70 minutes and more or less maintain a high standard during that time. It is also strangely disappointing that that is the best thing I can say about Things Fall Apart. I wish I could wax lyrical about the audacity of this track and the bone-shattering truth of that track, but I can’t. The album is pure, unadulterated flow. Well produced, sprinkled with a rich variety of genre samples and beats, it seldom sets a foot wrong. Just one in front of the other until it reaches wherever it’s getting to.
We reviewed Midnight Maraudersa few weeks back and in that I hear an album that does what Things Fall Apart does far better. A Tribe Called Quest and The Roots are both audibly East Coast hip hop groups — calmer, more meticulous, and more textured than their West Coast kin — but the latter is understated to the point of anonymity. Maybe I’m too coarse. Maybe the record is too passive. It’s done fine without me for this long in any case. I enjoy it fine in the moment and then it’s gone.
Andrew
There’s a weight to Things Fall Apart that is well disguised by the smooth flow, slick production and attention-drawing hooks. While it’d be easy to let this album pass by, a closer listen will show its real depths.
For many of my listens, I’ve come for the likes of sinister twangs of “The Spark”, the smooth instrumental on “Dynamite!” and the punchy beat on “Adrenaline!”. However, I’ve stayed for the strong latter third which shows its truer colours, culminating in the closer, “The Return To Innocence Lost”, which has an emotive, spoken-word vocal.
What sets this apart for me is variety on display. For a late-90s release, there’s a healthy portion of hip-hop true to its era, but it’s the smatters of jazz, and the sparser instrumentals towards the end that all keep me engaged. For an album to manage that with a seventy minute runtime is an achievement not to be downplayed. Behind all the smooth instrumentals, there’s a darker, sobering side to the lyrics too, and it makes for a sweet counterpoint between the two.
I’ve had a great time with Things Fall Apart, and I’ll no doubt be returning to it. Heralded as the turning point for The Roots, it makes for an essential album in their discography. But I get the feeling it’s a victim of its own success, providing a record so smooth it can slip into the background and allow its potent lyrical content to go to waste.
I will wrap up with Pitchfork’s review of Things Fall Apart. They wrote how 1999’s Things Fall Apart was the moment they figured out what sort of band they were. A more confident and resonant follow-up to 1996’s Illadelph Halflife. Pitchfork explored the themes and meaning of the album. They also discussed its immediate aftermath and the next chapter:
“Despite being a breakthrough for their band and their scene, the Roots didn’t immediately build on Things Fall Apart’s success. Powered by D’Angelo’s sultry “Untitled (How Does It Feel)” video, Voodoo became a phenomenon, and ?uest spent most of 2000 on tour as the singer’s drummer. By the time the Roots re-grouped, ?uest’s closest peers were pushing their sounds to new places. D wanted to learn guitar; Common and Dilla wanted to experiment with electronic textures. The Roots responded by moving away from the movement they helped create; their follow-up record, Phrenology, was essentially the anti-Roots album, with a heavy emphasis on rock. And while it alienated the Roots’ core fanbase, Phrenology performed well, pushing the group further into crossover territory. The Roots became a more regular presence on TV and radio. Soon after, Rahzel and Malik B. left the group for good. In 2006, Dilla died at age 32 from complications of lupus, and the Roots’ album of that year, Game Theory, kicked off a series of releases with a darker tone, including 2008’s Rising Down, 2010’s How I Got Over, and 2011’s undun. Having secured a gig as Jimmy Fallon’s backing band—first on “Late Night,” then on “The Tonight Show”—the Roots finally and completely entered the mainstream. But they used the freedom to experiment and make the music they wanted.
Things go in cycles, and the approach the Roots pioneered came back around. In 2015, the “next movement” the Roots mentioned on Things Fall Apart seemed to arrive. Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly—a densely lyrical and allegorical exploration of Blackness and struggle, set to a live-jazz soundtrack featuring dozens of collaborators—is hard to imagine without this album in its rearview. Artists like Robert Glasper, Thundercat, Terrace Martin, and Kamasi Washington channel the same creativity as the Roots, D’Angelo, and company, banding together to push rap, jazz, soul, and more into atmospheric new places. The spirit of Things Fall Apart is in the air.
Looking back on it now, this record feels like both a love letter and a fond farewell to the Roots’ early days, acknowledging that they needed to evolve to stay relevant. And some of the album’s continued relevance is painful. Its closing poem, “The Return to Innocence Lost,” details the fate of a young man seemingly doomed to fail since birth. He dies tragically, leaving nothing but thoughts of a life that could’ve been. Nowadays, black men are dying at the hands of police with alarming frequency, and we’re left to mourn the dead in hashtags and shared articles, wondering what’s next—or who’s next—in this seemingly endless war. Things Fall Apart imparts a similar tone, even if the band didn’t address those issues directly. The black and white cover art, taken in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn in 1965, depicts a young black woman running from a waiting police officer, her face twisted in fear. The scene is sadly familiar 50 years later. As the Roots teetered between fame and purgatory, virtue and failure, Things Fall Apart captured the intensity of a group with everything to lose and the world to gain”.
I would recommend that people get a copy of Things Fall Apart. It tuns twenty-five on 23rd February. Maybe it will not get the same sort of focus and coverage as the twentieth anniversary. I hope that there is celebration of one of the greatest albums of its time. Considered to be one of the cornerstones of the alternative Hip-Hop movement, The Roots’ Things Fall Apart is probably not as played and known about now as it should be. Such an important album, I hope it is finding its way into the hands of a young generation. There is no doubt that this 1999 album is…
A true masterpiece.