It’s always the good ones that have to die. Recorded between 1991 and 1993, San Jose emcee Charizma teamed up with then unknown producer Peanut Butter Wolf and recorded an album together. Signed to Hollywood Basic, the two caught a little buzz over promo singles “Red Light Green Light” and “Jack The Mack”. However before the album could see the light of day, Charizma was shot and killed on December 19, 1993, and the LP was shelved, never to be released, until now.  

    Since Charizma’s death, rather than giving up on hip-hop for good, Peanut Butter Wolf instead took the ball into his own hands, and started Stones Throw Records, which not only is one of hip-hop’s premier independent labels, but one the strongest, most consistent of the bunch. Wolf gave us a little taste of what we might have expected from Big Shots with the release of the “My World Premier” 12inch, which pitted Charizma’s pure emcee punch-rhymes with Wolf’s raw production. 

    Big Shots picks up pretty much right where Charizma’s other material left off, presenting the raw drums, heavy basslines, and dirty funk/soul samples that were so prevalent in the 90′s. Charzima’s flow was reminiscent of Big L’s throaty delivery combined with the high-pitched, confidence Audio Two’s Milk D. More than a rapper, he was just an everyday guy, barely 20 years old, rapping about “hittin’ skinz”, AIDS scares, and the occasional apple juice break. Whether he was flexing his lyrical skill over fun, up-tempo beats (“Here’s A Smirk”, “Red Light Green Light”), showcasing the lost art of storytelling (“Jack The Mack”, “Devotion”, “Fairweather Friends”), or merely playing the host to Wolf’s mellower selections (“Methods”, “Soon To Be Large”), Charizma’s simplified flow was pure, innocent, and filled with passion. 

    Ironically, Charizma never spit a rhyme about gang wars or guns, but unlike his gangsta Cali peers, such Ice Cube, MC Eiht, or Kurupt , he was the one to catch a bullet. The tragedy of Charizma really begins to sink right before the album’s last skit ? in a radio interview, he gives his own self description. “I was born in San Jose in 1973, I’m 18 years old, and I’m into rap music, and I just love it.” Hearing the excitement in his voice as he says these words, even those who didn’t know him would feel sad about this young Black emcee’s untimely fate. 

     But let’s play Stan Lee for a second and ask “What If Charizma Had Lived”? Had he not been tragically killed, there would not have been such large ramifications as if 2Pac or Notorious B.I.G. had lived, because outside of his little heard promo single, he was just another face in the crowd. However, he might have at least seen his album released. Had that happened, he undoubtedly might have been placed among The Alkaholiks, The Pharcyde, and Hieroglyphics, as one of the top west-coast emcees to hold a mic. Who knows, had Charizma lived, Stones Throw may have ceased to exist, or perhaps Peanut Butter Wolf would have not hung up his production lab coat after the release of My Vinyl Weighs A Ton. Regardless, Charizma’s death was tragic, should not be overlooked, and is a reminder that maybe all the dumb gangster shit that 50 Cent, Ja Rule, and M.O.P. talk isn’t that cool after all. Big Shots is not only that, but also a lost piece of time-capsuled art from arguably hip-hop greatest era, the early 90′s.