dmx

I’m over forty, and man, I’m boring as hell. I don’t smoke, no cigs or weed. I don’t drink booze, and I don’t snort any weird stuff either. I do two kinds of sports, eat a ton of veggies and slightly fewer fruits. I hit the sack early and wake up early too. I try to be polite and say hi to the neighbors (though, let’s be honest, that doesn’t always go as planned). Once every week or two, I call my mom to check in, chat a bit, and let her know I’m alive and haven’t forgotten about her. I live in a boring neighborhood in a dull Scandinavian setup, with a little river and a forest basically on my doorstep. There’s even a church right across the street. I get hyped about spring and golden autumns. I’ve read Dostoevsky, Tolkien, and J.K. Rowling. I’ve got an awesome girlfriend who shares most of these same “faults.” In short, we’re boring. The kind of boring that makes you want to sleep all day.

And yeah, I’m pretty aware that nobody really cares. Like, what’s even interesting about a life like this? It’s definitely not the stuff of books, movies, or grungy songs—or rap tracks, for that matter. Even if, somewhere in the broader culture, you hear lines like “…and they lived happily ever after,” it’s always at the very end of a story packed with dramatic events and world-ending disasters straight out of some mindless Hollywood flick. A good story needs at least one solid plot twist, something ripped straight out of a Dickens novel. And the main character? They’ve gotta suffer, hardcore, like someone straight out of a Victor Hugo tragedy.

DMX was that kind of hero. The wild dog from Yonkers, an undeniable rap legend of the turn of the millennium, the uncrowned king of New York, and a preacher locked in a constant, inner battle between good and evil. DMX was the guy who wasn’t afraid to cry—whether on stage or in a TV studio. He was also the guy who, if you found yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time, might’ve robbed you of your last dollar, all while setting a stolen pit bull on you. Honestly, if something like that ever happened to me, I’d probably straight-up lose control of both my bladder and my bowels on the spot. But hey, I’m just a broke white dude living in a quiet little country in Western Europe.

I love this man. I loved him when he was alive, and I love him just as much now that he’s gone. I love him mostly for his music, so I’m not going to dive too deep into his personal life. I won’t dissect his faith either, even though it’s a big part of his music (seriously, the level of religiosity in American rap always blows my mind). There’s already a ton of stuff out there about all that. Just type “DMX” into YouTube, and you’ll drown in it. What I’m here to talk about is his music as music, plain and simple. I’m here to talk about his debut album, the one he waited years to drop. This post is about It’s Dark and Hell Is Hot. About the album that put DMX on top of the world.

I’ve got this playlist on Spotify loaded with my favorite DMX tracks from his entire discography. Naturally, most of them are from It’s Dark and Hell Is Hot. No joke, this album is so damn fire I have to duct tape my shoes to my feet to keep from flying off. I love almost every track on it. Each one feels like a pill with 200mg of caffeine mixed with ground-up glass. For real. It’s my go-to soundtrack for gym workouts. When I’m pushing through the heaviest lifts, like squats or deadlifts, I slap on my headphones and almost always fire up DMX. It’s like an instant power boost. I’m storming around the gym like I’m on something, yelling, “This is revenge, no time before you die!”

I’ve got a few favorite tracks—okay, let’s be real, basically all of them. But seriously, I’ll narrow it down to five: "Ruff Ryders’ Anthem," "X-Is Coming," "Damien," "How’s It Goin’ Down," and "The Convo." Picking the best one? Forget it; that’s impossible. According to Spotify Wrapped for 2024, my most-played DMX track was "The Convo." But when it comes to gym anthems, it’s definitely "Ruff Ryders’ Anthem" and "X-Is Coming." The first one launches me into another energy dimension, while the second one has me drooling (no lie). Fun fact: DMX didn’t even want "Ruff Ryders’ Anthem" on the album. Luckily, some smart people talked him into it, and over a now-classic Swizz Beatz production, he ended up creating history.

Like I said, I’m not about to spill my guts when it comes to faith in God or being religious in general. I’ll just keep it short: my views are worlds apart from DMX’s. Honestly, the sheer scale of religiosity in American rappers—both back then and now—kind of blows my mind (and not in a good way). Sometimes, it even grosses me out a bit—the hypocrisy of it all. That whole weird country is deeply Catholic through and through. That said, the tracks where DMX has conversations with "God" or "entities" from the darker side of the moon? Those are probably my favorites. Take "Damien" and "The Convo," for example. Damn, those are so good. Regardless of whether you believe in anything or not, these tracks feel raw and real. We’ve all got a bit of angel and demon inside us. A good person can still do evil, and vice versa. Honestly, Dawkins and Solzhenitsyn would’ve been proud of him for this.

Now, "X-Is Coming" and "How’s It Goin’ Down"? That’s blood and wine. Love and hate. Abbott and Costello. Pixie and Dixie. I could blast that back-to-back for a whole year, no problem. Bet on it. I’ll never get tired of it. No question. Man, this whole damn album is out of this world. It’s dripping with authenticity—even 2Pac might’ve been jealous of it. DMX marked the end of an era—after him, rap just wasn’t as good anymore. Sure, there were a few gems, like Get Rich or Die Tryin’, God’s Son, and some others, but they didn’t hit the same. DMX obliterated all that flashy, shiny junk from Bad Boy Records. It was like they ran for their lives from drooling pit bulls and bloody, honey-soaked Timberlands. Timberlands dripping with blood, rust, and angel feathers (lol).

The rest of the tracks on the album keep the bar high too, either boiling your blood or cooling it to near absolute zero—your choice. Besides the top five I mentioned earlier, I’ve gotta highlight "Look Thru My Eyes," the singles "Get at Me Dog" and "Stop Being Greedy," plus "ATF" and the pretty solid "I Can Feel It," which has Phil Collins on the hook.

Saying DMX was a standout in the rap game is like saying nothing at all. It’s such a shame he’s no longer with us. He gave me five legendary albums in just a few years. All of them went platinum, and all of them are pure fire. [Why only five? Well, I’m not a fan of what he dropped after his Def Jam days (yeah, I know about the beef with Jay-Z). For me, Year of the Dog... Again and Undisputed just don’t hit as hard as the first five. But that doesn’t take anything away from his legacy.] Five platinum albums in five years. That’s insane. Add to that his so-called personal brand—a larger-than-life force stomping through Yonkers, leveling buildings. There aren’t many people like that. Not then, not now, and probably not ever.

Rest in peace, DMX.