Brief 21: Of Mics and Men

 I watched the perfectly titled Wu-Tang Clan documentary series ‘Of Mics and Men’ a month or so ago. Theirs remains a puzzling, powerful and pretty much unique tale – a balancing act of egos which has survived almost intact for 3 decades. Of course, other acts last that long intact* (and longer), but something with 10 members, all of whom are “frontmen”/solo artists, that’s the part that's striking.

It’s not that there is no leader - the RZA is clearly the leader, and this documentary is very good on his drive, discipline and his nous(as well as revealing the role of his brother Divine in the background), very good on how, despite clashes, disputes, tragedy, legal wrangles, he has managed to hold it all together, keep the friendships and the professional relationships going.

I try and explain to myself what I love particularly about Wu-Tang Clan – I think it was first and foremost the moment where I went from hearing hip-hop as something I was vaguely interested in but was not really my thing to something that was completely my thing, that I heard entirely itself – their first album like a kung-fu film, a sketch show, a stand-up show, a gangster film, a documentary and a soul revue – every part of the detail put into it.

The documentary revealed the different personalities and talents of each member – there is pathos, realism and camaraderie amidst the bravado and cartoonery. My favourite member of the group has always been Ghostface Killah, whose ‘Supreme Clientele’ is considered one of the best Wu-Tang solo albums, and whose half-comic/half-menace, high-speed-wild-control rapping brings every track he’s on to life – there is particularly poignancy in his description of his childhood helping look after two disabled brothers, and the escape the band gave him. But the most intriguing character for me, is GZA, whose ‘Liquid Swords’ is one of the most acclaimed hip-hop records of all time, and who, clearly, from the start, was held in the highest esteem as a thinker and MC by his colleagues. Nowadays, he seems - even while they all come across relatively calm and reflective compared to their youthful personas - gentle and withdrawn, like he’s barely part of it anymore, yet still seems to take pleasure in the reunions.

Anyway, it’s worth a watch … it fits in plenty of social history and some classic stories (including, of course, the endlessly baffling ‘Once Upon a Time in Shaolin’ saga). Wu-Tang is, of its essence, endless self-mythologising, but, amongst all that, this is a sober and true document of an enduring cultural icon.

*Wu-Tang being intact apart from the death of Ol’ Dirty Bastard in 2004.