The Foundations: Missy Elliott
The Foundations is an ongoing series highlighting legendary artists of the past with short breakdowns of their career and importance to contemporary hip-hop.
Active: 1997-2005
Representing: Portsmouth, Virginia
For Fans Of: Kool Keith, Busta Rhymes, A$AP Rocky, Travi$ Scott, Don Toliver, Brent Faiyaz
There’s a reason Pharrell named his Virginia based festival Something In The Water. The state of VA molded some of the greatest producers in music history, P himself, Chad Hugo, Bink!, Nottz, Ohbliv, jazz giant Creed Taylor and most relevant to this section, Timbaland. Equally as important to the beatmakers are the writers who found the gathering points of human emotion and evolutionary melody that could survive on these otherworldly sounds. Missy “Misdemeanor” Elliott started off as the topline writer next to producer Tim after her foray into full time R&B music with the group Sista fell flat. In the mid-90’s the duo developed Aaliyah and Ginuwine simultaneously while slow cooking their own careers outside of their misfit outfit. 1997’s Supa Dupa Fly had been crafted in the background between the kindred spirits for years, with the oldest beats dating back to 1994. “The Rain”, “Sock It 2 Me”, “Beep Me 911”, “Best Friend”, “Friendly Skies”. The tracklist runs deep with slow jams and Jeep rattling anthems on an unskippable album that alone etched Missy into history. At the cutting edge of melodic rap delivery (pre-dating the stylistic Yin & Yang of Lauryn Hill’s solo debut but riding heavily still on the steamy thump of new jack swing) she ventured into new waters with the confidence of half a decade of big studio experience in the tuck. You never second guessed whether or not what she was doing was within the conservative parameters of “real hip-hop” because it came so naturally for her to break the rules.
From album one until the end of her career the formula was the same; simple, sticky lyrics, drip attitude with every line, with the added bonus of choosing beats that would knock the windows out of a spaceship because no one from this galaxy should be able to compose records like this. She was an extraterrestrial walking among us, with a tomboy swagger and lullaby melodies to ease you into thinking she was simply just another relatable rap star. Supa Dupa was a dip into the waters outside of rap's safe zone, while its successors (Da Real World and Miss E…So Addictive) were all out genre bending envelope pushes on what a rap album could be. No two of her albums were ever the same, reeling in different voices from across hip-hop and tidbits of international sounds to play with under the roof of their Technicolor kitchen. Ingredients went in (reggae call and response, techno sounds, cutting edge recording techniques) and out would come a concoction that quelled a craving you never knew needed filled. Would she get outrapped on nearly every song? Yeah, but being the best MC wasn’t the point. It was about treading into the unknown. It’s easy to point to more contemporary figures (Kanye, Drake, Travi$ etc.) as people who put the song above all else, not letting the competitive nature of hip-hop force you to bar out your collaborator. Before any of them Missy had been on that type of time, even at one of raps most competitive periods. When Big Boi, Da Brat, Eminem, Mike Jones, Jay-Z or Busta walked in the studio they were teammates, not enemies. The craft of being a songwriter for pop stars and R&B crooners is as much making them feel welcome inside a record as it is creating the record at all. There’s a belief that the writer is just God’s personal messenger, roaming the Earth to attached the right vocalist to it. At some point Missy had so many messages stacked up she began claiming them for herself. The choice to wield her charisma and become the star instead of sculpting others careers paid off handsomely with 10 separate Billboard Top 10 hits, one certified classic (and an arguable 2nd), and 40+ million albums sold. No project came without a hit in her prime (‘97-’02), with her biggest hit as a bonus coming at the tail end of her career (“Lose Control” from ‘05’s eager but unremarkable swan song - let’s all pretend the Iconology EP was a fever dream please and thank you - The Cookbook).
Just as if not more iconic than the music itself is the music videos. She captured a childlike wonder with the world that the music could only show so much of. Puffy garbage bag suits, Megaman robot costumes, high fashion eyewear and dance routines put her as a 1C to Busta’s 1A and Bad Boy’s 1B as an MTV staple and artistic icon. You didn’t just listen to Missy, you kicked your feet up and prepared to be engulfed by her visions. The grooves forced you to dance and sing, the pockets she slipped in to keep you on your toes, and no matter how hard you tried you would never look as cool as her. Experiments in soul, electronica, and old school hip-hop made the art of modern rap feel boundless. Not to mention the built in trailblazing nature of being a woman MC where sex appeal and moral values never fought for dominance at the top of her priority list.
Don’t get it twisted, the songs could be raunchy sweaty tunes prime for club DJ’s to add in rotation, but it was never the main draw of her image. Calling her an experimental rapper is too serious, but saying she was some whimsical spirit floating by feels disingenuous to the genius of her song crafting. Miss E…So Addictive is as covertly sensual a rap album has been, with the pulsating thump of Euro club music and what we now perceive as peak Y2K aesthetics leaking from every note. Bar for bar she didn’t reinvent the wheel, but it’s inarguable she would go down as one of the best songwriters, album makers, and vocal performers the genre had ever seen while becoming a resident on every mood board for any creative worth their weight in wigs. Above all else she was about constructing something you’d never heard or seen before, leaving you forced to go forward with her creations etched in your brain forever.