Classic albums have a way of staying relevant—no matter how one first heard it. Whether it’s a teenager quietly spinning the fresh vinyl in his or her room or a collaborating artist hearing the sound purr for the first time from the studio monitors, iconic albums find ways to lodge themselves deep inside anyone who opens the door and lets the music inside. This year, hip-hop’s premier festival, Rock The Bells(which we covered in full last weekend), thrived on this notion. The poets of the game—Snoop Dogg, Wu-Tang Clan, A Tribe Called Quest and more—were called upon to revisit their most well-known works. And sure, it’s easy to listen to the albums and let them do the storytelling, but what better demonstrates the power of an album than hearing how it inspired its genre’s future disciples. As such, we caught up with some of today’s hip-hop stars to find out how the classic albums performed at Rock The Bells—specifically Snoop Dogg’s Doggystyle, Wu-Tang Clan’s Enter The WU-Tang (36 Chambers) and A Tribe Called Quest’s Midnight Marauders— gave breadth to their love, respect and passion for hip-hop.

Snoop Dogg—Doggystyle

Snoop Dogg’s debut album, 1993’s Doggystyle, almost two decades after its release, remains one of the most legendary, and caustic albums in hip-hop history. Multi-platinum selling rapper/producer Jermaine Dupri remembers hearing Snoop’s masterpiece “like it was yesterday.” Dupri was sitting in the back of his “boy Steve’s ride” when Snoop’s killer sound attacked him. “I lost my mind” after hearing ‘Whats My Name,’” Dupri says. Even more jarring than its sound, for Dupri, was how the record served as a turning point for the way MCs approached their craft. “To me this is when rappers got serious about their cadence,” Dupri adds. Southern hip-hop newcomer, Yelawolf, didn’t just listen to the record—dude made it his lifestyle. “(After hearing Doggystyle) I bought a pager that didn’t work, a blue Dickie suit, Chuck Taylors, Raiders Starter Jacket and flannel button ups,” Yelawolf says. “Snoop Dogg was like a new Michael Jackson for the rebel.” Dupri also feels the album represented a shift in the mainstream view of hip-hop’s reach. “This album was the first to show hip-hop was not a fad by being being the first to sell close to a million albums in its first week,” Dupri explains.

Wu-Tang Clan—Enter The Wu-Tang: (36 Chambers)

Murs, arguably one of today’s most revered lyricists in hip-hop, still recalls a certain walk home from a record store 17 years ago. He held Wu-Tang Clan’s Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) in his palms and, for the then-teenager, it had been a long time coming. “I had been bumping the singles all day everyday waiting for the whole album to drop,” Murs says of his excitement at the time. “I had the “Protect Ya Neck”/ “Method Man” cassette single and it didn’t leave my walkman for a week straight.” On that walk home, Murs read the back of the album “over and over” just to reassure himself it was finally in his hands, and when he finally got home, he listened to the album “smoking a bowl or a beedie” while hanging out of his bedroom window so his mom wouldn’t smell the stench. Yelawolf, by comparison, growing up in the South, had been largely into metal before hearing 36 Chambers. Despite being outside of the hip-hop community at the time, Yelawolf immediately felt an emotional connection to the sounds he was hearing. “Up until that point hip- hop didn’t give the same feeling that Metallica or Pantera gave, but the dark, grimy scenes that Wu Tang painted was an emotion I could relate to,” Yelawolf says. “What other crew on the planet could have a bunch of country-ass people calling each other God’s and Sons.” Wu-Tang’s gem, for Murs, also finally painted a realistic picture. “36 showed the world that everything platinum ain’t pretty,” Murs says. “It was literally raw street music straight from the New York City ghetto.” And, if you ask Murs, 36 Chambers returned a confrontational swag back to hip-hop that its forefathers, like NWA, had pioneered. “That album brought hip hop back to its roots with the ‘Fuck what you say. We are gonna do what the fuck we wanna do and WIN’ attitude,’” Murs says.

A Tribe Called Quest—Midnight Marauders

Coincidentally, on that very same day in November 1993, a different, but equally iconic hip-hop album, debuted right alongside 36 Chambers—A Tribe Called Quest’s magnum opus, Midnight Marauders. Consequence, the cousin of Tribe’s main man, Q-Tip, as well as a collaborator on Marauders, was not only the youngest collaborator on the album, it was also the first time he had even worked in a professional studio. “So it was like the dopest way to come into the game,” Consequence says laughing. Marauders would prove to be a different sort of classic. While Doggystyle and 36 Chambers featured gritty, sandpaper-rough vocals, Marauders was smooth and silky—lyrical tales injected notions of positivity and social awareness. “If Wu Tang was Metallica for me, then Tribe was Steely Dan,” Yelawolf says. “This is one of the best feel good hip-hop albums of all time.” Murs saw Midnight Marauders as both the grand usher for a different brand of hip-hop and a way to help expand the genre’s reach. “Tribe was our Nirvana or Smashing Pumpkins,” Murs says. “College kids and intellectuals had a group that they could champion. They were now intrigued instead of intimidated.” 17 years after helping create Marauders, what still mesmerizes Consequence is the way in which it helped define the future of hip-hop. “I think Midnight Marauders is the thing that pushes Outkast to do Aquemini,” Consequence says confidently. “It’s a point of reference for hip-hop.You walk away with so much from it. (Albums like that one) were made to be enjoyed for months and years on end.”