Backspin: Missy “Misdemeanor” Elliot — Supa Dupa Fly (1997)
Missy felt like the future, and the future sounded like freedom. (82.5/100)
Originally published December 5, 2021 on Medium.
On paper, Missy “Misdemeanor” Elliot was the least likely artist to break through in the summer of 1997. At a moment of hyper segmentation, she embraced an eclectic array of sounds that defied categorization. At the height of the music video era, Missy - dark skinned, heavy set, and pushing 30 - smashed all the specs for what a female hip-hop ingénue was supposed to embody. While hip-hop wallowed in the malaise of a tragic present, struggling to reckon with a dark recent past that had claimed the lives of its two most transcendent stars, the proudly eccentric dynamo from Portsmouth, Virginia felt like the future. That future sounded like freedom.
Missy Elliot might not have been what we were expecting, but she was exactly what we needed.
“Missy LP number one, blossoming like beautiful flowers” announces an exuberant Busta Rhymes at the conclusion of “Busta’s Intro.” It’s fitting that Missy would enlist a fellow futurist like Busta to coronate the bloom of not only a forward leaning debut, but a visionary career. Rap’s reigning Queen Bee, Lil’ Kim kicks off the first proper song, “Hit ’Em Wit Da Hee,” with a freewheeling endorsement of her own. It’s telling that the strident sexuality the defined Kim’s persona on her own breakout debut is largely absent here, the Junior M.A.F.I.A. opting instead to spit playful bars of clever braggadocio atop Timbaland’s subtly stuttered drums. In Missy’s presence, everyone is free from the constraints of industry norms and audience expectations.
It isn’t until the second verse that Missy finally graces the project with her own vocals, and she continues to confound. After spirited verses from two of the moment’s hottest MCs, the stage was set for Missy to blaze the beat with fierce bars of her own. As would become her signature, she zags after setting us up for the zig, confidently crooning an anthem of autonomy to a potential suitor aiming to impress her with superficial status symbols. Missy is not afraid to flirt, but she’ll do it on her terms. The song’s chorus underscores Missy’s control by referencing her trademark “hee-hee-hee-hee-ha” ad lib. This is her world, and we’re all just living in it at her invitation.
Atop the postmodern funk of “Sock It 2 Me,” Missy leaves the abstractions by the wall to make her desires perfectly clear. It’s structured as a club ready blast of R&B seduction, but Missy’s attitude is pure hip-hop. Melodically sung verses transition seamlessly into a chanted chorus crackling with clever similes. The MC in Missy lets her potential conquest know that her hormones are “jumpin’ like a disco” and highlights her own verbal prowess, acknowledging “I be poppin’ mess like some Crisco.” While Missy primarily coasts atop the track’s infectious melody, Da Brat rides the persistent rhythm with a rapid fire flow to propel it over the finish line.
Missy’s flow doesn’t truly unspool over a full track until the album’s lead single, “The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly)”. The results are nothing short of mesmerizing. Timbaland works his magic behind the boards, augmenting the off-kilter timbale intro from Ann Peebles’ 1973 hit “I Can’t Stand the Rain” with a keyboard bassline and down tempo drums to craft a broodingly funky soundscape that seems to emanate at once from the deep soul of yesterday and the digital dystopia of tomorrow.
For her part, Missy deploys her unique mastery of cadence, inflection, and open space to evoke a mood. Though the titular rain is a recurring motif throughout the rhymes, the song isn’t about rain per se. It’s more a meandering journey through the mind of Missy, inspired to roam by the rhythms of a rainy afternoon and the aroma of the sticky-icky.
When the rain hits my window
I take and ‘pffff-cough’ me some indo
Me and Timbaland, ooh, we sang a jangle
We so tight that you get our styles tangled
Sway on, dosie-do like you loco
Can we get kinky tonight?
Like Coko, so-so
You don’t wanna play with my Yo-Yo
I smoke my hydro on the D-low
Missy’s rhymes make a powerful statement, but it’s not in what she says, so much as how she says it. The free association lyrics, the eclectic cultural reference, and her unapologetic embrace of onomatopoeia all speak to an artist committed, above all else to not only embodying, but amplifying her individuality in the face of an industry built on copycat conformity.
Missy cranks her quirky swagger up to 11 on the album’s back half with a pair of left field flexes that only she could pull off. “Izzy Izzy Ahh” uses the onomatopoeia of the title to convey precisely how generic the empty braggadocio of other rappers sounds to her; or compared to her. True to form, she foregoes the hyperbole and gets right to the point on “I’m Talkin’,” punctuating stutter-stepping verses with a chorus that cuts straight to the point, simply proclaiming:
My style of rappin (It’s such a good…)
I’m su-su-such a good rapper (I’m such a good rapper)
As much fun as her off-kilter lyricism is on the free association excursions, Missy’s approach actually shines the brightest on the more topically focused tracks. “Why You Hurt Me” covers the well trodden ground of women suffering male foolishness. But instead of lamenting her own romantic woes, Missy evokes the pain of watching the downward spiral of a friend unwilling or unable to recognize her own worth.
The R&B leaning tracks benefit the most from Missy’s uncanny ability to present tried and true tropes from new perspectives. “Beep Me 911” represents the circularity of past and future, pairing a standard soul premise of a relationship eroded by lack of communication against backdrop of 21st century technology. The beepers and cellphones referenced in the hook are presented as a barrier to true connection, mirrored by the densely layered digital percussion and sound effects that often feel like they’re competing with Missy’s plaintive vocals rather than accompanying them.
“Friendly Skies” is a sci-fi slow jam that makes its seduction feel more like a space romp than a simple transatlantic flight. While Ginuwine’s elastic tenor undoubtedly elevates that track, Missy makes clear who helm’s the captain’s chair in this cockpit, breezing past his lusty entreaties with a condescending “whateva man.”
Aaliyah joins Missy in a display of female solidarity on the soulful “Best Friends.” Each singer uses the words of the other to stand up for themselves in the face of mistreatment by a wayward lover; words they may not have had the strength to speak directly.
My best friend say, I can stay with her
At her house, no doubt, any time I like
My best friend say, don’t let you ruin my life
Cause you don’t do for me and you don’t act right
My best friend say
If she was me she would let you go long, long time ago
My best friend say, my best friend say
It’s a clever conceit, and Aaliyah’s sultry warmth makes for a soothing compliment to Missy’s edgy energy. On the chorus they harmonize together in a subtle moment of understated solidarity.
I’ll still be there for you
In your time of need, you can lean on me
As with many albums of the late ’90s, Supa Dupa Fly runs a bit long. For all the ingeniousness of Timbaland’s production, much of it tends to settle into a mid-tempo drum and bass inspired groove. While the back half of the album is a bit darker in texture, the transition is so subtle that it doesn’t feel like we’ve been on a sonic journey as much as simply sat still while afternoon turned to evening. Granted, it’s one of those mesmerizing sunsets where the sky bursts to life in all manner of orange and purple light.
Still, the album’s impact on late ’90s urban music cannot be understated. It provided a template for the first new wave of hip-hop’s post Renaissance era, in which dusty boom bap beats and slinky G-funk grooves were replaced by frenetic digital symphonies. Missy’s rap style, in which the MC’s engagement with the beat as an additional element of instrumentation superseded ferocious flows and forceful lyricism, endures to this day - for better or worse. And while Aaliyah’s 1996 One in a Million album introduced Missy and Timbaland’s brand of sci-fi soul to the masses, the b-girl swagger of Missy’s vocal approach proved more influential to the next generation of hip-hop soul singers who would co-opt the sound in coming years.
Most importantly, Supa Dupa Fly allowed a shell shocked hip-hop nation to finally breathe. Coming out of a period in which hip-hop’s very brilliance seemingly brought the weight of a generation onto its shoulders, a weight which came crashing oppressively down with the finality of death, Missy “Misdemeanor” Elliot breathed life into a genre and a culture.
By the Numbers
Production: 8.5
Lyrics (how the words are put together): 8
Delivery & Flow: 8
Content (Substance): 7.5
Cohesiveness: 8
Consistency: 8
Originality: 10
Listenability: 9
Impact/Influence: 10
Longevity: 5.5
Total — 82.5
Backspin is a look back at the albums that shaped and defined hip-hop. It explores what made them resonate, the impact they had on the culture, and where they fit in today’s ever-expanding hip-hop canon.