“White Lines (Don’t Do It)” is a song that resonates far beyond the hip-hop community. For many, particularly those who grew up in the 80s, the infectious beat and catchy hooks of the “White Lines Song” are instantly recognizable. But the story behind this iconic track by Grandmaster Melle Mel, and its journey to becoming a global hit, is more complex than you might expect. Let’s delve into the history of this influential song and explore what made it so impactful.
In the early 1980s, hip-hop was rapidly evolving from its underground roots in New York City to a burgeoning global phenomenon. Two tracks that significantly broke through to a wider audience were “Rapper’s Delight” by the Sugarhill Gang and “The Message” by Grandmaster Flash and The Furious Five. These songs, released by Sugarhill Records, laid the groundwork for hip-hop’s mainstream appeal. However, the story behind Sugarhill Records and its artists is filled with interesting twists, particularly when it comes to the creation of “White Lines.”
The Sugarhill Label
Alt text: Vintage Sugarhill Records label logo, showcasing the iconic brand associated with early hip-hop hits like the White Lines song.
Sugarhill Records was the brainchild of Joe and Sylvie Simmons. An interesting precursor to the sound of “White Lines” can be traced back to a jam session. In 1979, members of the Sugar Hill crew famously joined Blondie and Chic on stage during a performance. Chic was playing “Good Times,” and this moment became unexpectedly influential. Nile Rodgers of Chic later recognized the bassline of “Good Times” sampled in another song and, after tracing it back to the Sugar Hill Gang, negotiated a songwriting credit to avoid legal issues. This early instance of sampling and copyright negotiation is a key part of the “white lines song” narrative.
But the sampling story doesn’t end there. Before the recognizable “Good Times” inspired bassline, “Rapper’s Delight” also incorporated a riff from “Here Comes That Sound Again” by Love De-Luxe, a disco track from a British studio band in 1979. This history of borrowing and reinterpreting existing music was becoming a hallmark of early hip-hop production.
Following “Rapper’s Delight,” Sugar Hill Records released “The Message” in 1982, credited to Grandmaster Flash and The Furious Five. However, the reality was that “The Message” was primarily written and performed by Melvin Glover, known as Grandmaster Melle Mel, and Edward G Fletcher, or Duke Bootee. Grandmaster Flash himself wasn’t significantly involved in the track, leading to internal tensions within the group and eventually Flash’s departure from the label. This internal strife set the stage for Melle Mel to step further into the spotlight with “White Lines.”
“White Lines (Don’t Do It)” emerged in 1983, credited to Grandmaster Melle Mel, with Sylvie Simmons receiving a writing credit. Grandmaster Flash had already moved on, leaving Melle Mel as the central figure for this track. And, true to Sugarhill’s established pattern, the song’s immense catchiness was again heavily reliant on a borrowed bassline.
Melle Mel
Alt text: Grandmaster Melle Mel performing, highlighting his role as the frontman behind the White Lines song.
The distinctive and unforgettable bassline of “White Lines” was played by Doug Wimbish, Sugarhill’s house bassist who later joined Living Colour. Wimbish’s riff was directly lifted from “Cavern” by Liquid Liquid, a New York-based “No Wave” dance-punk band that Sugarhill’s team had discovered on the radio.
Initially, Liquid Liquid were reportedly pleased with the sampling. However, as “White Lines” exploded in popularity and “Cavern” faded into obscurity, Liquid Liquid and their label, 99 Records, took legal action. The lawsuit against Sugar Hill Records was successful, resulting in a hefty $660,000 judgment. This legal battle, coupled with tax issues, ultimately led to Sugar Hill Records declaring bankruptcy and ironically contributed to the downfall of 99 Records due to legal expenses. This highlights the complex and sometimes harsh realities of the music industry and the early days of sampling.
Liquid Liquid
Alt text: Image of Liquid Liquid band members, the original artists behind the “Cavern” bassline sampled in the White Lines song, underlining the song’s controversial sampling history.
Despite its legal entanglements and sampling origins, the undeniable appeal of the “white lines song” endures. While the lyrics might appear to carry a straightforward anti-drug message, their impact is arguably secondary to the sheer catchiness of the music. The song is packed with hooks, from the iconic bassline to the memorable backing vocals and phrases like “Rang dang diggedy dang di-dang” and “Get higher baby!”. This irresistible combination made it a sing-along anthem, especially for young audiences, regardless of their background.
Adding another layer to the “White Lines” story is its music video, directed by a young Spike Lee, then a film student at New York University. The video featured a young Laurence Fishburne as a drug pusher. However, Sugar Hill Records initially rejected Spike Lee’s video. It was only after Lee and Fishburne achieved mainstream success that Sugar Hill Records attempted to release the video, only to be rebuffed by Spike Lee himself. This anecdote serves as a classic example of how early judgments can be shortsighted in the volatile entertainment industry.
Laurence Fishburne
Alt text: A young Laurence Fishburne in the White Lines music video, emphasizing his early role in the visual representation of the iconic song.
Finally, an interesting musical connection can be drawn to another iconic song. The “aaaaahhhhh, aaaaahhhhh” motif in “White Lines” is reminiscent of The Isley Brothers’ version of “Twist and Shout.” Intriguingly, this motif might have also influenced David Bowie’s “Let’s Dance,” which was being produced around the same time, suggesting a shared musical idea circulating within the creative landscape of the early 80s.
In conclusion, “White Lines (Don’t Do It)” is far more than just a catchy 80s hip-hop track. The “white lines song” is a fascinating case study in the history of sampling, copyright law in music, and the complex dynamics of the music industry. Its enduring popularity is a testament to its undeniable hooks and its place in the evolution of hip-hop, even with its controversial origins and sampling legacy.
