Hip-Hop & Soul N°245 – Vintage 90s Music Videos

1 . Imajin – No Doubt

“No Doubt” by Imajin occupies a peculiar space within the late ’90s R&B landscape—polished enough to chart yet unremarkable in its ambition.

Positioned on their 1999 album “Imajin,” the track glides by with a breezy melody and an almost overly sanitized sheen, courtesy of producers Ron “Amen-Ra” Lawrence, Deric “D-Dot” Angelettie, and DeVante Swing. Their fingerprints are evident in the smooth, radio-friendly production, though it stops short of achieving the depth or risk-taking that defined the era’s standout tracks.

On the charts, “No Doubt” shuffles into the mid-tier at best—#42 on the UK Singles Chart and a more respectable #7 on the Official Hip Hop and R&B Singles Chart. Its brief two-week UK shelf life suggests it made a quick impression before vanishing into the ether like a passing summer crush. Compare that performance to the group’s better-known single, “Shorty (You Keep Playin’ With My Mind),” and it becomes clear this song was never destined to headline.

Lyrically, “No Doubt” aims for sincerity but often comes off as overly simplistic. The refrain—”Baby are you checking for me, you wanna step to me, no doubt”—feels like it’s on autopilot, more a collection of phrases than a vivid emotional centerpiece. The line “You ain’t gotta get physical, ’cause I’ll still respect ya girl” gestures at maturity but feels more like a checkbox than a meaningful statement.

While “No Doubt” doesn’t falter through technical shortcomings, it also doesn’t aim high enough to linger in memory. Its glossy finish and well-constructed framework are dependable, but ultimately its lack of urgency and a distinct voice make it feel more like a shadow of its chart-topping contemporaries than a contender. “No Doubt” passes the time, if little else.

Featured on the 1999 album “Imajin”.

Lyrics >> More by the same : Instagram

2 . Diana Ross – The Force Behind The Power

“The Force Behind the Power” finds Diana Ross stepping into Stevie Wonder’s world, a space where funky rhythms meet spiritual aspirations. As the title track from her 1991 album, it carries the weight of both its namesake and its creator, with Wonder penning and producing the piece specifically for Ross. The track mirrors Wonder’s signature blend—rubbery basslines and buoyant grooves paired with a lyrical depth urging resilience and inner strength.

Ross, no stranger to elegant interpretations, maneuvers through Wonder’s intricate soundscape with a vocal performance both technically precise and emotionally layered. Her voice doesn’t overpower the funk-infused arrangement but works within its contours, balancing contemporary heft with her trademark poise. The production leans heavily on rhythmic vibrance, though it occasionally risks overshadowing her subtler inflections.

Despite its title-track status, the song wasn’t rolled out as a single in all markets, a noteworthy decision considering its thematic heft and the reputation of its collaborators. Still, its placement at the album’s core cements its role as a mission statement, hinting at Ross’s adaptability in the face of changing pop currents while holding onto her storied legacy.

The collaboration’s legacy extends beyond the music: Ross’s public revelation on “The Arsenio Hall Show” about pestering Wonder for a song since his teenage years adds an amusing, almost mythical layer to the track’s backstory. That Wonder delivered amidst his busy work on the *Jungle Fever* soundtrack speaks to the respect they share as two Motown titans who helped define and reimagine the label’s sound across decades.

If there’s a critique to be made, it’s that the track may come across as overly polished at times, which can blunt some of its emotional immediacy. Yet, for all its sheen, the song achieves what it sets out to do: it’s an empowering anthem rooted in spirit and funk, carried by two legends of vastly different yet complementary sensibilities. It remains a cornerstone of an album ambitiously named after it, even as its understated brilliance often seems tailored to reward the patient listener.

Featured on the 1991 album “The Force Behind the Power”.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Official Site

3 . Speech – Like Marvin Gaye Said

“Like Marvin Gaye Said (What’s Going On)” lands as both homage and reinvention, leaning on Marvin Gaye’s seminal “What’s Going On” as a lyrical and thematic compass.

Released in 1995, the track serves as the lead single for Speech’s self-titled 1996 debut album, arriving on the heels of his exit from Arrested Development—context that inevitably looms over the song’s intent and style.

Speech’s production sensibility takes center stage, crafting a smoother, pop-inflected hip-hop sound that echoes his home studio setup where much of the album was conceived.

That DIY aesthetic is both strength and stumbling block; while the song benefits from a personal touch, it noticeably lacks the raw edge that defined his previous group’s more gritty, socially confrontational work.

Charting modestly at 35 on the UK Singles Chart in February 1996, the song finds a niche without necessarily pushing boundaries, relying on its relaxed flow and socially conscious undercurrent.

The title itself almost imposes expectations: a reckoning with Marvin Gaye’s legacy, and by extension, a moment to recalibrate the artist’s newfound solo identity. Yet, the laid-back vibe occasionally undercuts the urgency one might anticipate from such a nod to Gaye’s iconic plea for understanding.

Still, its casual, reflective tone distinguishes Speech as an artist comfortable in his own skin, even if the results feel subdued compared to the culturally sharper dynamics of his Arrested Development days.

Featured on the 1996 album “Speech”.

Lyrics >> More by the same : Official Site

4 . Roachford – How Could I [Insecurity]

“How Could I (Insecurity)” from Andrew Roachford’s 1997 album “Feel” operates as both a personal reflection and a universal exploration of vulnerability.

Charting at number 34 on the UK Singles Chart, with more modest placements like 91 in Germany and 46 in Switzerland, the song’s reach mirrors its introspective theme—present yet tempered by restraint. Roachford channels his formative soul influences, from the velvety introspection of Al Green to the emotional excavation of Stevie Wonder, weaving a track steeped in personal resonance. His lineage—shaped by the saxophonist brilliance of his uncle Bill Roachford—further grounds this effort in a rich musical tradition, though such pedigree never risks becoming overbearing.

Musically, the track leans into Roachford’s knack for crafting poignant atmospheres, yet its understated melodies can feel hesitant, as if they too are grappling with the insecurities the lyrics dissect. Lyrically, the song probes self-reflection, urging a confrontation with one’s internal dialogues. This makes it both relatable and, arguably, a touch prescriptive, as though the listener is led too neatly along an emotional pathway that might benefit from greater ambiguity.

The context of Roachford’s career adds dimension, too. From his breakout hit “Cuddly Toy” (1987) to later collaborations with artists like Beverley Knight, his discography suggests a constant negotiation between deeply personal content and broader appeal. “How Could I (Insecurity)” fits snugly into that lineage—a moment of revelation that is as much for Roachford himself as for his audience.

Featured on the 1997 album “Feel”.

Lyrics >> More by the same : Official Site

5 . Monica – Like This And Like That

“Like This and Like That,” released on November 22, 1995, as the second single from Monica’s debut album “Miss Thang,” walks a fine line between youthful confidence and the polished R&B of its era.

Written by Dallas Austin, Colin Wolfe, and Malik Edwards, and produced by Austin and Wolfe, the track carries notable influences from hip-hop, borrowing a sample from Spoonie G’s “Spoonin’ Rap” (1979), itself a cornerstone of early rap’s DNA. While this interpolation lends the song a nostalgic heft, it can’t entirely mask its somewhat patchwork construction.

Mr. Malik’s contribution, consisting largely of ad-libs and portions of the bridge, adds a layer of playfulness that contrasts Monica’s impressively mature vocals. At just 15, Monica delivers with poise well beyond her years, though occasional moments reveal a singer still navigating her artistic footing. The chart performance—paired with “Before You Walk Out of My Life,” the single reached No. 7 on the Billboard charts—reflects its undeniable appeal, even if it doesn’t fully showcase the potential Monica would later fulfill in her career.

Packaging multiple versions, from a Radio Edit to remixes like the All Star Mix featuring Mobb Deep, implies a push to capture diverse audiences. Yet, these variations do little to elevate the song’s foundation, which feels structurally safe rather than risky or dynamic. While not a showstopper, “Like This and Like That” offers a glimpse of the burgeoning talent of Monica Denise Arnold, whose trajectory would eventually leap beyond the adolescent charm of her debut.

Featured on the 1995 album “Miss Thang”.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Instagram

6 . Michael Jackson – Remember The Time

“Remember the Time” exemplifies the synergy between Michael Jackson’s vision and the 1990s sonic landscape, merging R&B lyricism with the sharp, syncopated rhythms of new jack swing. Recorded at Record One studios in February 1991, it showcases the collaborative prowess of Teddy Riley, Bernard Belle, and Jackson himself, with production helmed by Riley and Jackson. The result is a polished track steeped in nostalgia, its lyrics waxing poetic about a youthful romance through Jackson’s unmistakable vocal range from E♭3 to B♭5, all afloat on a moderate 108 BPM tempo in F minor.

Commercially, the song hits all the right notes, peaking at number three on the US *Billboard* Hot 100 and claiming the top spot on both the *Billboard* Hot R&B Singles and Mainstream Top 40 charts. International appeal was similarly robust, earning top-three slots in markets like New Zealand, the UK, and Spain. Certified 3× Platinum by the RIAA, the song’s broad success is undeniable. Yet, success on the charts does not necessarily equate to thematic depth; the song, while enjoyable, rests on safe reminiscing rather than venturing into more distinct storytelling.

The music video, directed by the late John Singleton, doesn’t shy away from grandeur. Set in a Hollywood-Egyptian fantasy with cameos from Eddie Murphy, Iman, Tommy “Tiny” Lister, and Magic Johnson, it’s a nine-minute cinematic flex that elevates the song’s narrative, albeit over-indulgent at points. Premiered across major networks like Fox, BET, and MTV, it drew a Nielsen Rating of 13.1 but also felt more spectacle than soul.

Jackson’s live performances of the track are similarly uneven. At the 1993 Soul Train Music Awards, even an injured Jackson managed to deliver a throne-bound rendition surrounded by dancers, an inventive workaround to his infamous wardrobe issues. The song was rehearsed for the Dangerous World Tour but ultimately dropped, raising the question of just how integral it was to the overall Jackson oeuvre.

Coming from *Dangerous*, his eighth studio album, “Remember the Time” feels less weighty than earlier works yet more polished than its predecessors could ever attempt. It’s a polished slice of 1990s pop-R&B—dazzling, efficient, and vibrant—but occasionally lacks the raw emotive punch that marks Jackson’s finest moments. It situates itself neatly in his career without challenging his legacy or redefining his artistry.

Featured on the 1991 album “Dangerous“.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Twitter

7 . 3rd Bass – The Gas Face

“The Gas Face,” a standout track from 3rd Bass’ 1989 debut “The Cactus Album,” exemplifies the trio’s knack for sharp lyricism and subversive critique within the hip-hop genre.

Produced by Prince Paul, the song boldly critiques the commercialism and superficiality plaguing the rap industry, anchoring its message in a now-familiar colloquialism that describes a look of disapproval or contempt. The biting social commentary is underscored by clever wordplay and vivid imagery, transforming what could have been a simple diss track into a layered exploration of cultural integrity.

Musically, the track pulls from James Brown’s “Funky Drummer” and Jean-Jacques Perrey’s “EVA,” balancing traditional hip-hop beats with electronic sensibilities. This juxtaposition of funk’s rhythmic bedrock and the futuristic sheen of electronics provides an intriguing backdrop for the group’s incisive storytelling.

The inclusion of Zev Love X—later immortalized as MF Doom—in his recording debut adds an element of historic heft. Zev’s unique cadence and nascent lyricism hint at the offbeat brilliance that would define his later career, offering a tantalizing glimpse of hip-hop’s future within a project rooted firmly in its critiques of the present.

Despite charting respectably at number 5 on the Rap Singles chart and 31 on the Dance Music Maxi-Singles Sales chart, the song seems more interested in street credibility than mass appeal. Its unflinching messaging and refusal to dilute its artistic integrity speak volumes about the group’s priorities.

The accompanying music video, punctuated by cameos from Gilbert Gottfried, Flavor Flav, Salt-n-Pepa, and Erick Sermon, leans into the humor behind the track without undermining its sharper sociopolitical observations. That balance—between wit and seriousness—cements “The Gas Face” as a complex critique rather than a simple takedown.

As a product of the late ’80s, it aligns with the burgeoning conscious rap movement, which attempted to address societal issues without veering into preachiness. While “The Gas Face” might not always hit with the subtlety it aims for, it remains an anthem of its era—raw, reflective, and willing to confront uncomfortable truths within hip-hop and beyond.

Featured on the 1989 album “The Cactus Album”.

Lyrics >> More by the same : Wikipedia

8 . Ice-T – You Played Yourself

“You Played Yourself,” a 1990 track from Ice-T’s album “The Iceberg/Freedom of Speech… Just Watch What You Say,” sits as a sharp-edged morality tale wrapped in James Brown’s 1973 funk classic “The Boss.”

The song delivers blunt narratives that serve as cautionary tales for those blinded by short-term gains and self-sabotage.

Ice-T’s delivery, true to his gangsta rap credentials, leans heavily into sharp observation rather than emotive flair, creating a sense of detachment that adds to the track’s cold warning.

While it’s not tethered to chart placements, its thematic punch compensates, carving a lane in Ice-T’s body of work that feels more about commentary than spectacle.

The phrase “You played yourself” lives on—it reemerged as a viral cultural nugget decades later, a testament to Ice-T’s knack for embedding timeless vernacular in his work.

Yet, for all its intellectual heft, the song doesn’t escape the constraints of its didactic tone, at times feeling more like a lecture than a groove.

Still, the pairing of James Brown’s relentless beat and Ice-T’s straight-spoken bars forms a solid foundation, reminding listeners that self-inflicted wounds cut the deepest.

Featured on the 1989 album “The Iceberg/Freedom of Speech… Just Watch What You Say!”.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Twitter

9 . Donell Jones – Knocks Me Off My Feet

Donell Jones’ interpretation of “Knocks Me Off My Feet,” lifted from his 1996 debut album “My Heart,” feels less like a reinvention and more like a reverent tip of the hat to Stevie Wonder’s 1976 original.

It charts modestly, landing at #49 on the Billboard Hot 100 and climbing slightly higher to #14 on the Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs chart, evidence of its warm but unremarkable reception.

Vocally, Jones leans into the sweet vulnerability of the lyrics, which profess a love so disarming that it leaves the narrator metaphorically floored.

Still, the understated passion of his performance pales in comparison to Wonder’s spellbinding delivery, which anchored the original’s emotional resonance.

Stripped of the lush, almost celestial harmonic layers Wonder crafted in his “Songs in the Key of Life” era, Jones’ cover opts for smoother, more minimalist R&B production that was en vogue in the mid-’90s but lacks the layered charm of its predecessor.

Though his vocal phrasing is polished, and the sentiment is preserved, the track feels like it hesitates to take any real risks, preferring to glide comfortably within the bounds of radio-friendly convention.

As part of an album that sought to establish Donell Jones in the R&B ecosystem, “Knocks Me Off My Feet” serves its purpose without truly feeling essential.

Its inclusion in Jones’ catalog offers a testament more to his ability to pay homage than to innovate, aligning him as a capable interpreter but not quite a sonic trailblazer.

Interestingly, the song’s 1996 timeline also links it to covers by Tevin Campbell and Luther Vandross that same year, implicitly creating a game of comparisons that emphasize the tightrope of covering musical giants like Stevie Wonder.

No major soundtrack or TV appearances further tether this version to a broader cultural texture, leaving its significance at the level of a stepping stone in Jones’ career rather than a landmark moment for the genre.

For listeners, the song’s familiarity is both its strength and its limitation, resting comfortably in a safe zone that neither offends nor astonishes.

Featured on the 1996 album “My Heart “.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Instagram

10 . Cypress Hill – Illusions

“Illusions” from Cypress Hill’s 1996 album, “Cypress Hill III: Temples of Boom,” finds itself swirling in a haze of paranoia and introspection, propelled by DJ Muggs’ meticulous production.

The track’s foundation lies in a sample of Gary Burton’s “Las Vegas Tango,” twisting jazzy melancholy into a brooding hip-hop tapestry. DJ Muggs injects this with a dark, hypnotic energy, turning the instrumental into a looped descent into unease. B-Real’s signature nasal delivery adds another layer of tension, as his verses tread the murky waters between reality and perception. The lyrics, while poignant in their existential undertones, perhaps linger somewhat too long in their thematic repetition, risking monotony where nuance might thrive.

Chart performance underscores its appeal. In the UK, its crossover resonance is evident, peaking at number 23 on the Singles Chart and climbing to number 4 on the Official Hip Hop and R&B Singles Chart. The U.S. metrics are a touch more subdued, with a peak at number 3 on the Bubbling Under Hot 100 and minor placements on R&B/Hip-Hop and Rap charts. New Zealand’s number 33 showing, while modest, highlights its global reach.

The McG-directed music video for “Illusions” complements its shadowy atmosphere, though it borders on predictable visual tropes of mid-‘90s hip-hop. Q-Tip’s remix, featured on the “Unreleased and Revamped” EP, offers a brighter, funk-inflected diversion, though arguably less attuned to the song’s original ethos. Translating into Spanish as “Ilusiones” for the 1999 album “Los grandes éxitos en español” extends its cultural footprint but dilutes its immediacy.

While “Illusions” showcases Cypress Hill’s darker creative ambitions, it occasionally feels tethered to its own gloom, struggling to break through into fresher sonic territories. Its importance within their catalog feels more contextual than evolutionary.

Featured on the 1995 album “Cypress Hill III: Temples of Boom”.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Official Site

11 . Sounds of Blackness – The Pressure Part 1

“The Pressure Part 1” by Sounds of Blackness operates in that curious space where gospel conviction merges with R&B polish, and the fingerprints of Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis are unmistakable.

Released in 1991 as part of “The Evolution Of Gospel,” this track situates itself at the crossroads of spiritual affirmation and chart-ready production. Ann Nesby’s lead vocals push and pull with the tension suggested by the song’s title, embodying resilience while hinting at vulnerability beneath the surface. Her delivery is both earthy and polished, a balancing act few can manage so convincingly.

The song peaked at number 16 on the US R&B charts—an achievement notable not just for its position but for how it signaled the ambitions of Jam and Lewis’s fledgling label, Perspective Records. Partnered with A&M Records, this release announced its arrival with a forceful burst of genre-fluid creativity.

Sounds of Blackness’s Minnesota roots—emerging from the Macalester College Black Choir—add a community-minded authenticity to the production. That authenticity, however, doesn’t entirely escape the constraints of studio gloss. While undeniably polished, at times the track feels more premeditated than spontaneous, its gospel origins shaped to fit a commercial mold.

Yet, the song’s inclusion on an album that also features enduring tracks like “Optimistic” and “Testify” cements it as part of a broader artistic statement. Its success not only affirmed the group’s versatility but also set the stage for subsequent accolades, including Grammy-winning collaborations such as “Handel’s Messiah: A Soulful Celebration” and a performance at President Clinton’s 1992 inauguration.

“The Pressure Part 1” captures a moment when gospel dared to confront mainstream R&B head-on, even if the dialogue between them isn’t always seamless.

Featured on the 1991 album “The Evolution of Gospel”.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Official Site

12 . Morcheeba – Trigger Hippie

“Trigger Hippie” is a wry contradiction in sound and subject, pairing trip-hop’s laid-back grooves with the story of someone whose peace-loving ethos unraveled in a drunken outburst.

Featured on Morcheeba’s 1996 debut album “Who Can You Trust?”, the track reflects the band’s eclectic influences: Paul Godfrey’s hip-hop sensibilities ground the rhythm while Ross Godfrey’s psychedelic rock flourishes lend texture, and Skye Edwards’ soulful vocals glide over it all with a smoky allure.

The song stands out as a flagship for Morcheeba’s early sound, its trip-hop DNA immediately recognizable, but the narrative takes a sharply ironic turn, inspired by a real-life new-age pacifist who somehow ended his night in a barroom brawl and a scuffle with the police.

The irony isn’t just in the lyrics—it’s baked into the production. The languid tempo and serene vocal delivery amplify this disconnect, creating a space where dreamy melodies frame a story of chaos and drunken excess, like incense burning in the aftermath of a shattered party.

Commercially, “Trigger Hippie” enjoyed modest success, peaking at number 40 on the UK Singles Chart and holding its ground for three weeks. While not a chart juggernaut, it arguably set the tone for the band’s trajectory, enhancing their reputation on live stages from Europe to North America. At the Lilith Fair in 1998, the song found an audience amidst a festival celebrating female-driven artistry, its moody introspection fitting the event’s eclectic ethos.

As a single, the track reflects the essence of “Who Can You Trust?”—a slow, subtle burn rather than an immediate hook. The production, though rich, occasionally risks being too restrained, hovering in a dynamic limbo that defines trip-hop but might leave some listeners itching for more tension or release.

“Trigger Hippie” is less a juggernaut and more an emblem of its genre—brooding, ironic, and unwilling to force its hand, much like the passive-aggressive drama that inspired it.

Featured on the 1996 album “Who Can You Trust? “.

Lyrics >> More by the same : Official Site