I remember a Sac-Town group named the Phonkee Socialistics who signed a deal with Priority Records, back in 1991. They were rather strange, I thought. They wore gas masks when they performed, and rapped that abstract bullshit, I thought at the time. Yet I was introduced to them by Brotha Lynch Hung in 1992 and one of my greatest memories to recall is a long ride to a house party I took with Lynch and the Socialistics. Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit" was playing and every last one of us in the car, all artists, all black kids, knew the words to the song. We banged our heads and screamed along with Kurt Cobain, in unison, as we rode to the party. I will never forget the energy I felt that night.
