Big Pun’s Capital Punishment: “Latins goin’ platinum.”
Revisiting a forgotten classic from a pioneer of Latino hip-hop.
“'Cause everybody's checkin' for Pun, second to none
'Cause Latins goin' platinum was destined to come”
- Big Pun, “You Came Up”
Since hip hop’s inception at a block party in the Bronx in the early 1970s, Latinos have contributed significantly to its evolution. An embodiment of the diversity of the Bronx itself, the genre’s distinctive sound has evolved under the influence of Black and Latino culture. From the standpoint of records that began to gain popularity in the years following, however, Latino artists were firmly on the periphery. It was not until the early 1990s—when acts like Kid Frost and Cypress Hill came onto the scene on the West Coast—that Latino rappers rose to relevance in mainstream hip-hop.
Two decades after hip-hop was born, a Puerto Rican lyrical powerhouse by the name of Christopher Rios emerged from the thriving scene of cyphers and aspiring rap crews in the Bronx. Big Pun, as he became known, would help bring Latino rap to the forefront of hip-hop with his unique delivery and unmatched wordplay. Pun first rose to prominence in the underground rap scene alongside fellow Latino rappers as part of Fat Joe’s Terror Squad. Fat Joe, who would go on to sign Pun to his record label, had already begun the wave of Latino rap on the East Coast that would soon grow and flourish. It was Big Pun, though, who eclipsed his mentor’s influence with the release of his 1998 debut Capital Punishment, the only LP he would drop in his lifetime. Following in the footsteps of Cypress Hill, who were the first Latino hip-hip group to go platinum, Big Pun became the first solo Latino rapper to go platinum with Capital Punishment.
Many of the artists who shaped hip-hop in the 1990s were ushered into the new millennium as elder statesmen, while others had already immortalized themselves in hip-hop history. But why did Big Pun go from taking the rap game by storm to a legacy often reduced to a single, albeit iconic, track? While “Still Not a Player” rocketed Pun to musical success, it certainly does not represent the full extent of his catalog. Pun’s death in February of 2000 undoubtedly contributed to his dwindled influence. Still, several of his contemporaries who faced untimely deaths achieved much more renown posthumously.
Nonetheless, Capital Punishment’s underappreciation today does not take away from its status as an all time great rap album. Upon its release, it stood out in a crowded landscape of 1998 that saw such albums as Jay Z’s Vol. 2... Hard Knock Life, OutKast’s Aquemini, and DMX’s It's Dark and Hell is Hot. Capital Punishment peaked at No. 5 on the Billboard 200 and topped the Top R&B Albums chart. Pun’s album even received a nomination for the Rap Album of the Year at the Grammys. While there are nods to Pun’s discography in contemporary rap—Kanye West borrows a bar from “It’s So Hard” on Watch the Throne—acknowledgements of his impact are few and far between, and the album’s cultural relevance is incredibly understated. Big Pun’s Capital Punishment is, in my opinion, just as deserving of acclaim as the likes of The Notorious B.I.G’s first album, Ready to Die.
Throughout the 24 track album, Big Pun blends gritty narrative with poetic reflection and the occasional ballad, stringing together mind-bending rhyme schemes and rapid fire verses in a sharp cadence that defines his distinctive style of rap. Interspersed among the album are four off-color, highly explicit skits that lend a dimension to the project and shine a light on Pun’s unique artistry. Whether using humor to create moments of levity in the tracklist or portraying deeply disturbing scenes, they contribute to the identity of Capital Punishment in a memorable way. At their best, they thematically move the album forward, as with “Taster’s Choice,” which paints Pun as a ladies’ man and sets the scene for the smash hit “Still Not a Player,” featuring R&B crooner Joe.
“Still Not a Player” peaked at No. 24 on the Billboard Hot 100 and rocketed Pun to mainstream success, paving the way for the album to receive rave reviews upon release a month later. The song is a remix of Big Pun's first single “I'm Not a Player,” which interpolates Joe’s “Don’t Wanna Be a Player” and demonstrates Pun’s versatility as an artist. He returns to a similar soulful R&B sound on “Punish Me” as he laments a bygone relationship fractured by betrayal.
On the first song of the album “Beware,” Pun raps, “We polish the floor with the rawest hardcore artists,” typifying the trend of supreme self confidence and antagonistic braggadocio in hip-hop. But unlike most artists who claim to stand above their peers, he goes on to defend his claim by outshining an array of prominent spitters throughout the tracklist, including Busta Rhymes, N.O.R.E., and Wyclef Jean. Especially potent contributions from Black Thought and Fat Joe bring out Pun’s best. On “Super Lyrical,” Thought more than holds his own, and even elevates Pun as the pair exchange verses. Pun floats over the sample of Canibus’ “It's Logic,” delivering witty punchlines in lightning-quick succession. He does justice to The Notorious B.I.G., whose vocals can be heard on the song’s hook. As they trade bars over Dr. Dre’s “Deep Cover” instrumental on “Twinz,” Fat Joe and Big Pun glorify a life of crime on a track thematically reflective of its West Coast predecessor. Pun punctuates his first verse by delivering perhaps the best couplet of the album, rapping, “Dead in the middle of Little Italy little did we know / That we riddled some middlemen who didn't do diddly.” While the lineup of guest artists compliment Pun well, he proves himself as the superior emcee verse after verse.
Capital Punishment’s pièce de résistance, “The Dream Shatterer,” epitomizes Pun's rap prowess and encapsulates the best of an artist we lost too soon. Instead of “Still Not a Player,” I would put forward “The Dream Shatterer” as Pun’s legacy defining track. It’s the record that best illustrates why he deserves a bigger place in hip-hop's collective memory. Set against the haunting backdrop of Don “Sugarcane” Harris’ “Funk & Wagner,” an angry Pun delivers a barrage of exceptional bars chock-full of masterful wordplay worth rewinding again and again. On the track, Pun embraces his Puerto Rican heritage, rightly positing himself as a pioneer in Latino rap, proclaiming, “I'm the first Latin rapper to baffle your skull.” He goes on to call for more Latino representation in the genre. Pun again pays tribute to his Puerto Rican descent when he raps in Spanglish: “You ain't promised mañana in the rotten manzana.” This line, which touches on his upbringing in New York, his violent persona and Latino heritage, is unapologetically Big Pun and authentically hip-hop, a genre that, like Pun, was born in the Bronx. Amidst captivating narratives of violence, Pun's ability to rap at an unrivaled level while seamlessly incorporating Spanish into his lyrics resonated deeply with an underrepresented audience in hip-hop, a testament to his unique and impactful presence in the genre.
edited by Alexander Oder.
album artwork believed to belong to either the publisher of the work or the artist.