A sequentially compiled list of rap discs that matter from the '90s would include Breaking Atoms pretty close to the top. Coming out on the Wild Pitch label during '91, the album sounds newer than a great deal of other releases from that period. It's not as transcendent as work from A Tribe Called Quest, but very few things are. Even with that said, there aren't too many production flourishes that tie this disc to the previous decade. Unfortunately, the album probably won't be remembered for any of its persistent quality. Instead, Breaking Atoms serves as the first recorded appearance of Nasir Jones.

Much in the same way that the impact Digital Underground had on music has been forgotten due to the group's brief inclusion of Tupac, Main Source is more recalled for who partook in this initial album than anything else. That of course does a tremendous disservice to the twelve tracks here, but that's how history is written. But does the Nas catalog exude the same sort of influence that this disc had in '91? That can't be answered, nor should it. But Main Source having Large Professor as a member for a moment probably served to steal focus from the actual music.

If one was to look at the production credits from Large Pro, it would kinda look like a list of credible rappers who posses an acute acumen for finding producers to fit their vocal styles succinctly. Without those accolades, though, the performance of this emcee and producer on the first Main Source disc should have secured a pretty strong foothold in the rap world.

The performances of K-Cut and Sir Scratch are more than capable of keeping pace with Large Pro's efforts. Each emcee does have a pretty distinct flow, but it seems that the production on this disc makes up a good deal of its legacy.

In reading about the disc, the fact that the SP1200 was heavily relied upon to create the beats here seems to be as lauded as the vocal performances. Of course, the James Brown, the Meters and Ike Turner samples work to good effect. But to ignore what was going on here lyrically would be a travesty.

Even the name of the disc works to point towards some new era that, at the time, many folks in the rap game felt was occurring. They were correct, and in just a few years, hip hop would become as identifiable within American culture as any other musical movement. That point can't be missed - in general or here specifically.

"Just a Friendly Game of Baseball" begins with a gun shot and immediately delves into the violence that folks encounter when dealing with cops. Over top of various Lou Donaldson and Melvin van Pebbles samples, Large Professor continues to recount instances of police brutality and how folks actually benefit from it. It isn't prescient, it's reflective. But as the decade wore on, the violence that became tied to the genre would persist. And even if this isn't the first track to vocalize the problematic situation, it might be one of the most thoughtful.