Run-D.M.C.'s collaboration with Aerosmith on "Walk This Way" was without question the most influential rap single of the last decade, but "Parents Just Don't Understand," by D.J. Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince, continues to make a significant, if often overlooked, impact of its own. "Parents," released by the Philadelphia duo in 1988, demonstrated that rap expressing suburban, middle-class values and worries, telling stories with humor and a dash of street slang over springy, danceable beats, could attract a massive audience. Where Run-D.M.C. (and in that group's wake, the Beastie Boys and Public Enemy) crossed over to rock fans, Jeff and the Prince – followed by Tone-Lõc, Salt-n-Pepa, Kid n' Play and others – drew pop fans to this tamer sound. M.C. Hammer and Vanilla Ice may have tarnished the credibility of such pop rap, but the subgenre still offers genuine pleasures all its own.

Born in Jamaica, bred in Mount Vernon, New York, Heavy D. has released some fine fast-talking, reggae-inflected singles over the last few years, but with Peaceful Journey he has put together his strongest album to date and one of the real pleasures of this rap season. Like a good party tape, Peaceful Journey continually changes styles without sounding disjointed. The album uses six different production teams but maintains a smooth swing whether the track is a dance-club groove like the hit single "Now That We Found Love" or a slower, seductive shuffle like "I Can Make You Go Oooh." Although in the past Heavy D. has over-played his image as the "overweight lover," his concerns on Peaceful Journey mix in a tentative feminist effort ("Sister Sister") and even a nod toward black self-sufficiency on "Letter to the Future."

The album's highlight is "Don't Curse," which, over a sticky Booker T. and the MG's sample, features such luminaries as Big Daddy Kane and Q Tip from A Tribe Called Quest contorting their rhymes to mock censorship. Unfortunately, like too many releases these days, Peaceful Journey goes on too long and runs out of steam in its last third. But for forty minutes or so, Peaceful Journey is a triumph of sung choruses, insistent hooks and clear, upbeat lyrics – a masterful display of pop rap's strengths.

These same components add up to a lot less on Young M.C.'s long-awaited second album, Brainstorm. His 1989 smash "Bust a Move" and the hits he helped write for Tone-Lõc established a funkier, anecdote-driven California version of pop rap. After a prolonged contractual battle with his record company, Young M.C. has emerged with a full hour of music devoted to imitating "Bust. a Move." The quick delivery, the jittery bass line, the female vocal hook – it's all here again, on virtually every song.

What's worse, not only does "Bust a Move" rock harder than anything on Brainstorm, but its amiable humor has been replaced by preachiness. Young M.C.'s messages are admirable – don't drink or do drugs, and practice safe sex, or as he puts it, "Keep It in Your Pants" – but they come so predictably that the fun of his earlier material is lost. Most interesting is the literally cerebral "Inside My Head," in which Young M.C. muses on the workings of the brain and hints at some self-doubts – but at seven minutes, the track is a struggle to get through.

As for D.J. Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince, their sublime "Summertime" is the biggest surprise in hip-hop this year. When they followed up "Parents" with even goofier story rhymes like "I Think I Can Beat Mike Tyson," rap fans wrote them off. When the Prince turned up with his own sitcom, the hip-hop nation wished him well but doubted that he would ever recover as a recording artist. With a lower, slower vocal delivery over a rolling groove, though, "Summertime" exploded out of nowhere and proved that the duo shouldn't be counted out.

There's nothing else on Homebase as transcendent as "Summertime," but the album does mark a notable growth for Jeff and the Prince. Smart, if obvious, samples from Rick James ("I'm All That") and Anita Ward ("Ring My Bell") power the best cuts, and the James Bond-styled "Who Stole the D.J." illustrates that the Fresh Prince is better at conjuring a mood than striking a streetwise attitude. Homebase could use more compelling beats and more of Jazzy Jeff's turntable wizardry (his underutilized skills are among hip-hop's lost marvels), but it does prove that even the poppiest rappers can benefit from experimenting and broadening their range. Hammer and Ice, please take note. (RS 613)

ALAN LIGHT