The engineers, art coordinaters, mastering specialists, and studio owners who helped build the grimy masterpiece that rocked and shocked the nation.
The Wu-Tang Clan introduced themselves to the world cloaked in a shroud of mystery. Claiming the hip-hop hinterland of Staten Island as their homeland, the gang of nine MCs bore kung-fu-inspired names and performed an assassin-like assault on the record industry. Their inaugural 12-inch, "Protect Ya Neck," offered little evidence with cover art that involved only a black-and-white illustration of a book and a sword. When the oversized rap group's debut album, Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers), was released on November 9, 1993, it eschewed the chance to reveal the Clan's faces, presenting six rappers clad in hoodies and masks. Rumors still abound as to what shenanigans were behind the incomplete cover roster.
Twenty years later, the early mysticism that surrounded the Wu-Tang Clan has proved to be part of leader the RZA's grand plan to turn scorned underground rappers into icons. It worked: The group's nine members — including the departed Ol' Dirty Bastard — are recognizable across the globe, grimy rap superstars from Shaolin lands. Though the Wu stepped out of the shadows and into the spotlight, there are less commonly credited music industry hands who were also involved in the group's monumental breakthrough. We asked five of these unseen contributors to go back in the vault and reminisce over the time they helped bring the ruckus.
Yoram Vazan, co-owner of the Firehouse Studio: I met them before they were Wu-Tang, when [RZA and GZA] were Rakeem and Genius. My first impression was of Genius being an extremely talented rapper and very funny — he had lots of wit and was very bright and everybody was impressed with his rapping ability. Rakeem was of the softer kind of personality and a good vibe person. He was soft-spoken and waited his turn to do his rapping. It was a very nice family vibe.
Ethan Ryman, co-engineer: When we started recording Enter The Wu-Tang, the whole group was usually there for every session; sometimes it felt like their whole neighborhood was in the studio. Every now and then RZA and I would have to clear the room so we could get to the equipment. I remember feeling there was a very forceful energy with them. They were not playing around. They would bark orders at each other, not just saying something matter-of-factly but saying things with a tone of underlying "or else" — like everything was super important. It was badass and I started doing it too. It was like nobody wanted to show any weakness.
Liz Fierro, art coordinator: Oh my goodness, what a cast of characters they were! First of all, we were so nervous about meeting them. They've got this mafioso rap persona, that's for sure, but they were the nicest bunch of guys that I've ever had the pleasure of working with in the industry. We had a huge bus and we had to go to Staten Island to collect them all and find them all and we don't know who's who 'cause they're all in hoodies and this and that. So like two of them were in McDonald's getting breakfast and one's over here by the pier. It was hysterical trying to get them all together. But we got them on the bus and then at the end of the day after the photo shoot, we dropped them all off in all these different locations like we were best friends. And Ol' Dirty Bastard, he was like, "If you ever need anything, Liz, you know who to call."
Vazan: The rest of them would say hi and give you a hug, but RZA would talk to me and tell me stories about how he's moving on to become this aggressive rapper out of protest at the industry and at life.
Chris Gehringer, mastering engineer, the Hit Factory: RZA has a lot of things going on in his brain, you could tell that. You could watch and see him take charge.
Ryman: One of my fondest memories was seeing RZA explain to the group, who were not the moguls they are today — like Meth told me back then he was living like a viking, no hot water, no heat! — that he had turned down a million-dollar offer from RCA who were looking to sign the individual rappers, as well as the group. We all know how that turned out. A very smart dude.
Vazan: They played me "Protect Ya Neck" and it was very hard and incredible and it never stopped hitting you, you know? It was line after line, verse after verse, but when it got to ODB and it got to Method Man, it was like, "Wow, who are these guys?" The first time you heard ODB, it was amazing; it was like the Louis Armstrong of hip-hop with so much character in his voice, like he's telling a story. ODB took you there into the text of his lyrics like a good storyteller, but also like a real actor.
Ryman: I can't remember what jam we worked on first, and at that point, it might have even been a demo, but I remember Rakeem being smart and real cool and we got along well. Very shortly after that, the studio got a little bigger and moved to 38th Street in Manhattan and that is where I remember the first real Wu sessions beginning.
Vazan: We were in the midst of doing Masta Ace's Sittin' on Chrome and we moved out to Manhattan. It took us a week to re-set-up the studio so Ace could continue doing his work, and the next thing I know Wu-Tang came in. We planned to do four albums, but I remember RZA came in and said, "I got six albums to do with you." It was Wu-Tang, Method Man, ODB, Gravediggaz, and I think he did two more at the same time. They couldn't afford to pay, but RZA said, "Don't worry, we're gonna pay you back." He was there for six months. They made Firehouse their home.
Ryman: I remember watching Genius wreck everyone at chess, and losing to him and RZA a few times myself, and playing cee-lo for dollar bills in the lounge. Cabs wouldn’t stop for RZA back then, so when we left for the night, I would go to Seventh Avenue to hail a cab for him back to Staten Island. The driver's reaction to the switch was usually priceless.
Vazan: RZA always had a lot of thinking going on; he was the guy in the control room making his vision… I remember one day RZA comes in with a guitar and says, "I don't play guitar, but we're gonna get a few samples out of this instrument!" It was anything goes: Bring it in, we'll sample it and we'll use it. And I saw the evolution there. They used to come in with milk crates with the records and samples they wanted to use, then RZA comes in with his Ensoniq board, which was also a sequencer, and he actually recorded ODB into this machine. The recording was very crude because they know how to make beats, they don't necessarily know how to record, and the sound was terrible but it was a technological revolution happening in front of my eyes. No more milk crates; these guys are coming in with the machines!