Wu-Tang Meets The Indie Culture by Wu‐Tang Clan

Album cover for Wu-Tang Meets The Indie Culture - Wu‐Tang Clan
1. Introduction
1:12
2. Lyrical Swords
3:26
3. Slow Blues
4:50
4. Still Grimey
4:16
5. Skit
0:33
6. Think Differently
4:33
7. Infomercial: #1
0:39
8. Biochemical Equation
3:56
9. O.D.B. Tribute
1:51
10. Fragments
3:32
11. Intermission
0:27
12. Street Corners
3:18
13. Listen
3:41
14. Infomercial #2
0:45
15. Verses
4:34
16. Preservation
2:27
17. Cars on the Interstate
2:17
18. Give It Up
3:46
19. Black Dawn
3:23

Wu-Tang Meets the Indie Culture is an album released October 18, 2005. This album was put together by Dreddy Krueger who has produced Wu-Tang and others. It includes collaborated tracks by Wu-Tang Clan members, Wu-Tang Clan affiliates, and various other underground hip-hop artists such as Cannibal Ox, Aesop Rock, Sean Price, Casual, and MF DOOM. The album has sold 59,133 units.

<b>100 Best Albums</b> In 1993, the Wu-Tang Clan were a grim, grimy, grindhouse alternative to G-funk’s baroque gangsta cinema: If Dr. Dre’s lush, lowrider-ready grooves were <i>Terminator 2</i>, then the scratchy, bloody, distorted productions of RZA on their debut album were <i>Reservoir Dogs</i>. Emerging from New York City’s most underrepresented borough—the literal island of Staten—here was a sound that, by nature or nurture, existed in its own raw, unapologetic bubble: corroded soul breaks, snatches of dialogue and sound effects from arcane turn-of-the-’70s Hong Kong kung fu flicks, distended keyboard lines, tape noises, snaps and stutters.<br /> Wu-Tang emerged as a nine-member crew in the post-MTV age of small cliques, a mix of styles and voices that eventually carried more than a few solo careers: The violent beat poetry of Raekwon, Ghostface Killah and Inspectah Deck; the drunken sing-to-scream ping-pong of Ol’ Dirty Bastard; the $5 words and scientific flows of GZA and Masta Killa; the boisterous coaching of RZA; the gritty rasp of U-God; and the fame-ready slick talk of Method Man, who was already getting a star turn on his eponymous track. Though melancholy reminiscences like “Can It Be All So Simple”, “C.R.E.A.M.” and “Tearz” made a trilogy of evocative narratives, the Wu provided few easy inroads to their mythology and poetry. Instead, America was forced to enter <i>their</i> chamber, a lyrical swarm of hip-hop slang, the Five-Percent Nation’s Supreme Mathematics and skits that sounded like taped conversations. They brought a singular ruckus and everyone from the similarly crew-oriented Odd Future, the wordy Logic, the mafioso-fuelled Pusha T, the wild-styled Young Thug and the noisy Sheck Wes all owe different types of gratitude.