Graffiti anthems of the mid-1990s

By the mid-1990s graffiti was an international phenomenon. It could be found everywhere; grimy capitals of former Soviet republics were bombed to hell; sleepy Canada quiet university towns and small blue collar cities had writers, even crews, even enough crews to have rivalries between crews, and graffiti expos, and shitty websites with ridiculously long http addresses hosted on geocities. Graffiti wasn’t just another youth trend. It was art, and it was illegal. Getting involved in this subculture necessarily involved risk and sacrifice. Music trends and clothing fads come and go, but graffiti represented something more raw, more genuine, more significant. You didn’t participate by wearing certain clothes or purchasing certain CDs, you participated by sneaking into train yards on cold winter nights, by scaling roof tops, shoplifting paint and running from the cops.

So here it is, three great songs about graffiti from the mid 1990s.

Artifacts. Wrong Side of the Tracks. 1994.



What can be said about this song? Artifacts. El Da Sensai. Tame One. 1994. Newark. New Jersey. A hip-hop classic, and the anthem of every kid who was painting in that era.


KRS-One. Out for Fame. 1995



In 1997 I traveled across central and western Canada and into the west coast United States on a Greyhound bus. Three days and three nights. I met some interesting people. A skid from out east who got kicked off the bus at 3am in some small desolate town in northern Ontario for drinking. A fat, abrasive tattoo artist who was looking at porno magazines the whole trip and threatened some young girl for leaning her seat back. A couple from Germany who were really into Smokin' Suckaz wit Logic. A Native girl from Thunder Bay who had spent the summer running children camp programs on Native reserves across Canada. A crustpunk girl from Alaska who passed me a note telling me I had a nice smile. She had been touring with her friend’s band, they were called Rat Fink.

What’s the point? That long bus ride I was bumping Out for Fame on my walkman. Christ this song is amazing.

Ten Foot Pole. My Wall. 1994.



At the time this seemed like a bizarre anomaly: a song about graffiti by a punk rock band from California, whose lead singer happend to be Scott Radinsky, the professional baseball player credited with being “one of the best Jewish pitchers in major league history.” I was introduced to the song by a writer named WHEN, who I believed belonged to a crew called OPS.

It seemed strange to me at the time, because I guess most of the writers I knew fit a somewhat more traditional stereotype –kids who weren’t white and listened to rap. But of course, in 1994 William Upski wrote in Bomb the Suburbs about white graffiti artists who congregated at hardcore shows.

And one final side note: who the fuck were Smokin' Suckaz wit Logic? Good question. When I met that German couple on the Greyhound bus, I knew who the group was because I always used to see their CD in the “rap” section of the record store, but it always looked suspiciously like rap-metal or something to me. I still haven’t listened to them, but having visited Wikipedia to satisfy my curiosity, I learned the following facts.

• One of the guys owned High Timez Records, and now owns a backpackers hostel in Panama.
• Another guy made beats for Big Daddy Kane and the Sporty Thievez.
• The other guy became a Christian rapper and joined a Who tribute band.

What a strange world we live in.