This article originally appeared in the August 1993 issue of SPIN.
The music is my life.
Is New York, New York, really the birthplace of hip hop? Is this ultimate city—the preferred setting for most modern-day film fables —the place where the seed took hold? Where the rhymes first flowed and a culture took form? This compressed, dirty place, this mainstream cultural stronghold, is the steamy-hot/snowy region where a generation found an identity, where all the shit went down?
It’s where DJ Scott LaRock died and Slick Rick went to prison. Where Run found Christ and Griff got dismissed. Where sneakers became the rule and not the exception;
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