The Dial-Up Decade #7: Common Sense, Resurrection

BY DREW DRAIN

Resurrection, the 1994 sophomore album by Chicago rapper Common (then known as Common Sense), stands as a pivotal moment in hip-hop history. It is both an intricate portrait of an artist’s growth and a reflection of a pivotal moment in rap music, as the genre sought to balance raw expression and artistic depth during the “golden age” of the early ’90s. With jazz-inflected beats and introspective lyricism, Resurrection demonstrates Common’s emergence as one of the most thoughtful voices in hip-hop. The album’s deliberate lyricism, creative production by No I.D., and philosophical engagement with identity and culture reveal Resurrection as not only a classic but a record that, decades later, remains deeply relevant.

To fully appreciate Resurrection, one must understand its cultural and musical backdrop. Hip-hop in the early 1990s was a battleground of stylistic innovation. On the East Coast, Nas’s Illmatic (1994) and Wu-Tang Clan’s Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) (1993) established gritty, sample-heavy lyricism as a cornerstone of the genre. Meanwhile, West Coast artists like Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg cemented G-funk as a mainstream juggernaut. In this dynamic environment, a clear line began to emerge between commercial hip-hop and what would come to be called “conscious rap.” While hip-hop had always maintained political and social critiques, this period saw a deepening division between the “street realism” of gangsta rap and more contemplative, jazz-influenced narratives.

Enter Common Sense, a Chicago-based rapper who released his debut album Can I Borrow a Dollar? in 1992. Though the album displayed flashes of promise, its humor-laden lyrics and playful tone placed it within the “fun” side of hip-hop, echoing the influence of groups like A Tribe Called Quest and De La Soul. However, Resurrection marked a dramatic shift. It revealed a more mature and self-aware Common, someone grappling with his identity, his artistic responsibility, and his place in a broader cultural landscape.

At the heart of Resurrection is Common’s exceptional lyricism. Unlike his debut, which often indulged in party rhymes and humor, Resurrection demonstrates his mastery of wordplay and thematic storytelling. Throughout the record, Common reflects on personal growth, romantic relationships, and hip-hop culture itself, using extended metaphors and philosophical musings to elevate his observations.

The album opens with its title track, “Resurrection,” a statement of purpose for both Common and the project as a whole. The song’s sparse, jazzy beat (crafted by producer No I.D.) sets a meditative tone, allowing Common to deliver sharp, self-reflective lyrics. He proclaims his evolution as an artist:

“I stagger in the gatherin’, possessed by a patter-in / That be scatterin’ over the global, my vocals be travelin’.”

This opening line immediately signals a shift from the playful persona of Can I Borrow a Dollar? to something weightier. Common adopts an almost literary tone, using complex internal rhymes and imagery to discuss his artistic rebirth. The word “resurrection” itself carries symbolic weight, positioning the album as an act of revival—not only for Common’s career but for a purer, more conscious form of hip-hop.

The album’s most celebrated and analyzed track is undoubtedly “I Used to Love H.E.R.” This song is not only the centerpiece of Resurrection but a defining moment in Common’s career and in hip-hop as a whole. Over No I.D.’s smooth production, Common tells the story of a woman he once loved, detailing her evolution, struggles, and missteps:

“I met this girl when I was ten years old / And what I loved most, she had so much soul.”

As the song progresses, it becomes clear that the “her” Common refers to is not a literal woman but hip-hop itself. The extended metaphor is brilliantly executed, as Common personifies the genre to critique its commercialization and cultural shifts. He laments how hip-hop, once soulful and raw, has “prostituted” itself, referencing the influence of gangsta rap and its focus on materialism and violence:

“Now she’s a gangsta rollin’ with gangsta bitches / Always smokin’ blunts and getting’ drunk / Tellin’ me sad stories, now she only fucks with the funk / Stressin’ how hardcore and real she is”

The song sparked controversy upon release, particularly from West Coast rappers who felt targeted by the song’s critique. Ice Cube and Common would later exchange diss tracks over the perceived slight. However, the song’s brilliance lies in its ambiguity—Common does not dismiss gangsta rap entirely; he critiques how hip-hop’s authenticity is eroded when commercial pressures dominate artistic expression.

The song’s enduring appeal lies in its universal relevance. Hip-hop heads still debate what constitutes “real” hip-hop, and “I Used to Love H.E.R.” stands as a timeless reminder of the genre’s roots and its potential for cultural critique.

While “I Used to Love H.E.R.” is the album’s most iconic track, Resurrection offers numerous other moments of lyrical and thematic brilliance. “Book of Life” is one such example. Here, Common turns inward, delivering an autobiographical reflection on his struggles and aspirations. He candidly addresses his doubts about the future while reaffirming his commitment to personal growth:

“One day I’m cruisin’ down a one-way street / And I done passed fun-day three blocks ago / It itself, life is an obstacle / As I maneuver through the manure, I try to be responsible / I want a job, but I ain’t lookin’ (how come?) / I ain’t trying to degrade myself bein’ nobody’s Calvin.”

The Calvin referenced here by Common was an African American teen who got a job at McDonald’s in a popular commercial from the early 1990s. At the time, many criticized the campaign for perpetuating low expectations suggesting that a minimum wage job should not be the pinnacle of success for Black youth. The ads sparked important conversations about the portrayal of Black ambition and the lack of broader opportunities for upward economic mobility.

The honesty of “Book of Life” foreshadows the introspection that would come to define Common’s later work, particularly albums such as Like Water for Chocolate (2000) and Be (2005). It is this vulnerability that sets Common apart from many of his contemporaries.

No I.D.’s production on Resurrection is as vital to the album’s success as Common’s lyrics. Together, the two artists developed a sound that was uniquely Chicago—rooted in jazz, soul, and funk influences but also distinctly modern and urban.

No I.D.’s beats are understated yet sophisticated. He favors smooth, looping samples that provide a meditative backdrop for Common’s lyrics. Tracks like “Resurrection” and “I Used to Love H.E.R.” feature minimalist production, relying on jazz piano loops and soft drum patterns to create a sense of intimacy.

What makes No I.D.’s work on Resurrection so effective is its restraint. At a time when many producers were pushing for maximalism—layering beats with bombastic samples and aggressive rhythms—No I.D. stripped things down. This allowed Common’s voice and lyrics to take center stage, emphasizing the album’s introspective themes.

No I.D.’s influence would extend far beyond Resurrection. He later mentored Kanye West, whose soulful production on albums like The College Dropout (2004) clearly draws from No I.D.’s blueprint. In this way, Resurrection helped shape the sound of Chicago hip-hop for generations to come.

Resurrection was not a commercial success upon release. At a time when gangsta rap dominated the charts, Common’s jazz-inflected, introspective style did not attract mainstream attention. However, the album’s critical acclaim and underground following laid the groundwork for Common’s later success.

“I Used to Love H.E.R.” has become a landmark track in hip-hop history. Its critique of the commercialization of hip-hop remains as relevant today as it was in 1994. In the streaming era, where the lines between art and commerce are often blurred, Common’s lament for hip-hop’s authenticity continues to resonate.

Beyond its influence on hip-hop culture, Resurrection solidified Common’s reputation as one of the genre’s most thoughtful and articulate voices. It marked the beginning of a career that would see him evolve into not only a hip-hop elder statesman but also an actor, activist, and cultural ambassador.

Resurrection is more than just an album; it is a statement of purpose, a meditation on identity, and a love letter to hip-hop. Through its lyrical depth, introspective themes, and sophisticated production, it stands as one of the defining records of the 1990s.

Common’s ability to balance personal reflection with cultural critique elevates Resurrection beyond mere entertainment. It is a work of art that challenges listeners to think critically about themselves, their communities, and the music they love.

In many ways, Resurrection feels prophetic. Common’s critiques of commercialization and loss of authenticity have only grown more pertinent with time. Yet, at its core, the album remains hopeful—a reminder that hip-hop, like life itself, is constantly evolving, dying, and being reborn. In this sense, Resurrection is exactly what its title suggests: a timeless celebration of renewal, growth, and artistic integrity.

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DREW DRAIN

Andrew (Drew) Drain is originally from Point Pleasant, WV, and he now resides in Chapel Hill, NC with his daughter. Drew works as a financial risk management professional to pay the bills, but his real passion is photography. He started taking photos of his daughter playing soccer as a way to resist the urge to coach her from the sidelines. Time behind the camera developed into a love for photography that he has paired with his love for sports and live music. Follow Drew’s Instagram, @Drew.Drain.Photo or his MaxPreps galleries, to check out more of his work or contact him if you need photos of your favorite athlete or performer.

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