This week’s feature is Dah Shinin. Coincidences and connections – I’d call it this week’s theme, but I feel like a broken record. Anyone addicted to musical due diligence can relate. Whether it be the old-school vinyl collectors with encyclopedic knowledge of session musicians, the hip-hop heads of the 90s and 2000s who can name all the features on the 15th single by their 20th favorite rapper or the new-age streamers with far-reaching awareness of artists who’ve yet to see the radio, there is a category of listener who alienated themselves through excessive knowledge that’s only useful in exclusive conversations. If you’ve seen two enthusiastic music fans hijack a conversation, leaving the rest of the group to sit and listen, you should know what I mean. Fear not, we’re just here to spread game.

Does Smif-n-Wessun ring a bell? They fired with a bang from the Brooklyn hip-hop revolver in hip-hops first decade of dominance. Their debut, Dah Shinin, resulted in a direct hit on the charts – 5 on the Hip-Hop Top 100 and 57 on the Billboard. Their joint career had been on the rise in the underground since the start of the 90s, sending warning shots with collab albums and posse features, but by 1995, they were done hiding. As a result, within a year of their triumphant introduction, Smif-n-Wessun received a cease-and-desist from that darn arms company.

If Smith & Wesson had taste and a little creative vision, they might’ve instead considered a sponsorship. Dah Shinin is an establishment of their version of Brooklyn and the gun-totin’ quick bidness S&W supplies. With echoes of Tribe Called Quest in the jazz-style rhythms drums provide the hop and walking bass provides the hop. They stay steady in their themes and bring in every possible influence to create dynamic rich music – an approach they detail in this interview with HIPHOPDX. They hear reggae in hip-hop and aim to reverse engineer that influence by leaning into reggae-style riddims, even performing in patois. The rastafied tracks on the record provide more bounce that blends and contrasts with the smooth shuffle and shake of the NYC jazz-hop. My favorite part: the cover art inspired by the late Roy Ayers' He's Coming.

Tek and Steele regrouped under the name Cocoa Brovaz in 1998, and reclaimed their name for a few releases this century – the most intriguing being Monumental (’11) – but following that suit, they were bound to the nebulous category of musical misfits known as the underground. Just another reminder of what you can find with just a bit of digging.

Enjoy!