Jeru The Damaja
The Sun Rises In The East

THE REVIEW

There are albums destined to mark history from the moment of their publication, essential works for which the passage of time is not a burden at all, but rather an effective way to further enhance their immense value. "The Sun Rises In The East" by Jeru The Damaja can be fully included in the aforesaid category.

Whether it's a milestone or a masterpiece, the discographic debut of the illustrious member of the renowned "Gang Starr Foundation" sounds incredibly timely even 12 years later (its release dates back to May 1994), and is unanimously considered a "must-have" for every fan of Rap or, simply, good music. But let's take it step by step. It was 1992, the year in which the most famous Rastafari MC in history presented himself to the general public, delivering a stunning verse in the legendary "I'm The Man" by Gang Starr. It would take two years for the grand confirmation to come, first with the remarkable collaboration granted to Guru and DJ Premier in "Speak Ya Clout," and shortly after with the release of the highly anticipated solo debut, "The Sun Rises In The East," which right from the evocative title claims the geographical, musical, and thematic belonging of our protagonist. Entirely produced by Chris Martin aka DJ Premier (a name, a guarantee!), the album perfectly fits, in terms of sound and topics addressed, into the typical New York style of the mid-'90s: musical backdrops filled with raw Jazz and Funk samples, drum beats as dirty and heavy as boulders, all serving Jeru's smooth and effective rhyming, comfortable both in dark and streetwise storytelling as well as in tracks with a more metaphorical and spiritual approach. Thus, we smoothly transition from the celebratory "D Original" to the obscure "Brooklyn Took It," a heartfelt tribute to his home Borough, passing through the irresistible punchlines and allegories of "Mental Stamina" (which also features a very young Afu Ra), the very amusing "Da Bichez," an original reflection on the more materialistic side of the fairer sex, to the introspective "My Mind Spray," perhaps the absolute peak of the entire album: a hypnotic and reworked sample taken from "Nautilus" by Bob James, combined with absolute pearls of style that our protagonist gifts us along the grooves of the vinyl ("Slow like demise I crept on those that slept/Droppin my rhyme science like I'm Imhotep...", "Rap brainiacs have cardiacs soon after the attack/When it comes to rhymin I slam harder than Shaq..."). Also noteworthy is the engaging "Jungle Music," a sharp reflection on Rap and African American culture, filled with all possible Afrocentrism ("More mics killed than slaves during the middle passages/Who rapes and ravages and calls us savage?"), and the concluding postscript of "Statik" ("I get high, praise to the most high/tried to battle me, step up & die...").

Therefore, it seems superfluous to add further words to describe an absolute masterpiece like "The Sun Rises In The East," a sublime work that stands out from the rest, and together with the subsequent "Wrath Of The Math," dated 1996, it undoubtedly represents one of the historical peaks of a genre like Rap, relatively young, yet already rich with excellent gems and sometimes unjustly forgotten.