The evolution of hip hop as an art form to some extant has been dependent on the socio-economic surroundings of particular scenes. New York rappers and producers have been noted for using a huge range of music in their songs – De La Soul is an obvious example. And West Coast acts seem to be laid back in a way that Southern folk aren’t. That isn’t applicable across all musical works, but it does work to explain a great deal of the g-funk that was flying off of the racks during the early ‘90s.

Beyond the L.A. contingent of Dre, Snoop and 2 Pac, Northern California stepped up with a number of stylistic variations. Of course, the formula of hip-hop isn’t all too malleable, but working within its confines can allow unique voices to emerge.

There’s something sinister about the music that Dru Down made during that time of costal rivalries. His productions are simple variations on Dre’s prefigured g-funk – and Down at times even ends up sounding like George Clinton over a pilfered beat from his own catalog. But Down’s flow owes as much to his surroundings as it does to the lackadaisical style of Snoop, who lived a good six hundred miles south of Oakland.

Oakland itself influenced the way in which Down created his works. Not drastically divergent from the aforementioned progenitors of West Coast gangster oriented faire, Down worked to set himself up as a supreme being of sorts – again not differentiating himself from his rap brethren. But there is something to be said about the consistency of Explicit Game and Can You Feel Me. Just from that first disc came the singles “Ice Cream Man” – with the foibles of slangin’ – and “Pimp of the Year” where the subject manner can be appropriately figured solely from the title.

Since those releases, while his profile might not be as high and his albums haven’t hit the charts outside of the Bay, Down can easily boast that he recorded with 2 Pac prior to his death and has had a continual connection to Yukmouth and the entirety of the Luniz crew.