There's nothing new or revolutionary sounding about Biz Markie's All Samples Cleared!, and that's wonderful. You'll swear it's 10 years old, recovered from the bottom of the bag of tapes in the back of your closet, but no, it's just the Biz. While Run-D.M.C. retool their machine, L.L. plans his third reincarnation, Eric B. and Rakim search for new partners and Slick Rick dares not pick up the soap, Biz remains unchanged, a hip-hop fossil, defrosted for '93.

Before the gangstas and the mainstream moved in and hip-hop became deadly serious (and murderously insecure), rappers were MCs – hosting the party – and rhymes, sometimes, were jokes. Hardly an implacable, indestructible rapper, Biz admits he's an "ugly nigga, but so what?/If you don't like the way I look, you can kiss my butt." He's also poor and has got "Young Girl Bluez" to boot, but he'll still "make Dirty Harry's day and Gladys's night." With none of the epic size of most modern image- and production-conscious rap, Biz is the underdog you love to root for.

Biz will definitely win fans for "Let Me Turn You On." Over a fully cleared sample of "Ain't No Stoppin' Us Now," Biz sings, yes, sings rhymed come-ons in a style reminiscent of early rap innovator DJ Hollywood. He might win more than fans: While other rappers are wooing single girls with intimidating machismo or suaving those who got a man, the Biz kills 'em with comedy and is out the back door with a pocketful of numbers. He's as funny as anyone in rap and invites you to laugh along, but if you take Biz as seriously as you do Flavor Flav, you'll miss half the act: While those around him display the state of the art, Biz reminds us of the wilds hip-hop came from. If I didn't know better, I'd think Biz recorded these songs when, or before, he cut his first album, Goin' Off, in 1988.

Unlike most in hip-hop, Biz has not forgotten that – before the Robinsons, Simmonses and the kids from the suburbs took it to the stage – this was poor kids' music, made in the park and under the bridge. Back then, fat-laced Pumas and Adidas were their Cadillacs; graffiti was art; gunshots meant the party's over; and the bright lights of hip-hop's big city were street lamps. (RS 666)

TOURÉ