Following on from last week’s Crystal Grass upload, here’s the track that appeared on the other side of GW Ruff Edits #4, ‘Jungle Fever’ by Chakachas (aka ‘Belgian Jungle’), a deliciously wicked downtempo groove that’s been described as ‘one of the first Disco records’. Somewhat bizarrely, this was a Latin combo from Belgium, who’d been recording since the 50’s. Chakachas (or The Chakachas, as there name also appeared) were certainly unlikely Disco pioneers, but ‘Jungle Fever’ became a UK Top 30 hit in 1972, and would no doubt have climbed much higher had it not been pulled off the BBC airwaves because the sighs and heavy breathing were deemed too risqué for the British public’s sensibilities (Donna Summer’s ‘Love To Love You Baby’ still more than 3 years away). However, it was in the US where it found its greatest success – a massive hit, it reached #8 on the US Pop chart, and #11 R&B, selling a million copies in the process.
As with Crystal Grass, the reason I edited it was purely to extend the length, adding over 2 minutes to the original version. The first time I remember playing it out was at Café Mambo in Ibiza in 2009, which was also the first mix I ever uploaded to SoundCloud:
"Bring that beat back, bring that beat back!" -> Chuck D "We gonna do a song, that you heard before.."
[Kane] Here I am, R-A-W A terrorist, here to bring trouble to phony MC's, I move on and seize I just conquer and stomp another rapper with ease Cause I'm at my apex and others are below Nothing but a milliliter, I'm a kilo Second to none, making MC's run So don't try to step to me, cause I ain't the one I relieve rappers, just like Tylenol And they know it, so I don't see why you all try to front, perpetratin a stunt when you know that I'll smoke you up like a blunt I'm genuine like Gucci, raw like sushi To stage a rage is what rap did to me To make me want to create, chaos and mayhem Cold rock a party, until the A.M. I'll make a muscle, grab the mic and hustle While you stand dazed and amazed, I bust a little rhyme with authority, superiority And captivate the whole crowd's majority The rhymes I use definitely amuse Better than Dynasty, or Hill Street Blues I'm sure to score adored for more without a flaw Cause I get RAW!
"R-A-W" (cut and scratched by Mister Cee 4X)
[Kane] Attact, react, exact, the mack'll move you with a strong song as long as you groove to this I keep the crowd loud when you're hyped Do damage on stage and injure the mic As I shoot the gift, MC's stand stiff While my rhymes stick to you like Skippy and Jif Feel my blunt fist, or my death kiss The rap soloist - you don't want none of this Supreme in this era, I reign with terror When I grab the mic, believe you're gonna hear a fascinating rhyme, as I enchant them So let's all sing the Big Daddy anthem Go with the flow, my rhymes grow like an afro An entertaining gain, the Kane'll never no problem, I could sneeze sniffle or cough Eeee-even if I stutter I'ma still come off Cause rappers can't understand the mics I rip They sho' nuff ain't equipped, that's why they got flipped But my apparatus is up to status Don't ask who the baddest, or cause static to make or break or take em, my rhymes hit the head Put it to bed, so watch what's said Save the bass for the piper, rearrange your tone Take a loss and be forced from the danger zone I get ill and kill at will Teachin a skill that's real, yeah no frill Just stand still and chill as I build Science I drill until my rhymes fill your head up! "R-A-W" -- don't even get up Competition shut up, cause I'm RAW!
"Help me!" (cut and scratched 8X by Mister Cee)
[Kane] The man at hand to rule and school to teach and reach the blind to find their way from A to Z and be the most and boast the loudest rap again, to reign your domain (YEAH KANE) The heat is on, so feel the fire come off the empire, all the more higher Level of depth, one step beyond dope The suckers all scope and hope to cope but NOPE cause I never let em on top of me I play em out like a game of Monopoly Let em speed around the board like an astro Then send em to jail for tryin to pass Go Shakin em up, breakin em up, takin no stuff but it still ain't loud enough So let the volume increase, never to cease I'ma release a masterpiece a slip of the tongue like grease Rippin the mic to shreds, puttin heads to bed Code red cause the rhymes is bein said by the Asiatic printer of raw poetry No hints or clues, you all know it's me I go pound for pound and round for round to clown the sound profound it's bound to go down, UHH A lyrical knockout, showin I got clout My comp should just drop out Cause none of them can see me I leave em Winan like their name was BeBe or CeCe I get RAW!