Click Boom Records Presents The Compilation: A Gritty Time Capsule of ‘98 Hip Hop
Man, if you’re into that raw gangsta vibe mixed with some slick G-Funk grooves, Click Boom Records Presents The Compilation is a trip back to the late '90s streets. Released in 1998 under the US-based label Click Boom Records, this album doesn’t try to be anything fancy—it just hits hard where it counts. And let me tell ya, when A&R Chris "Tricky" Mathis put this together, he wasn’t playing around.
The whole thing’s got that gritty edge, but two tracks really stuck with me—“Let Go” and “Entergalactic Funk.”
“Let Go” straight-up punches you in the chest from the first beat. It’s one of those songs where the bassline feels like it’s crawling up your spine. You can hear the attitude dripping off every word; it’s cocky, unapologetic, and kinda makes you wanna nod your head so hard it might fall off. There’s something about the way they layer those synths over the drums—it’s simple but effective, like a sucker punch you didn’t see coming. Every time I hear it, I’m reminded why gangsta rap ruled back then. No gimmicks, just pure energy.
Then there’s “Entergalactic Funk,” which flips the script entirely. This track takes you on a space ride, man. Like, you’re cruising through the cosmos while still keeping it street. The production has these lush, spaced-out keys that feel like stepping into a lowrider spaceship. I swear, listening to this song feels like floating in slow motion while staying grounded at the same time. It’s weird how it works, but damn does it work well. When the hook kicks in, you’ll wanna throw your hands up even if you’re just sitting alone in your room.
What gets me most about this compilation is how real it feels. Nobody here is trying to reinvent the wheel—they’re just doing what they do best. Tracks like “Baby’z Moma” or “U Ready 2 Ride” keep things moving with their swagger and bounce. Meanwhile, deeper cuts like “The Storm” bring that introspective heat, reminding you that life ain’t all fun and games. The balance between braggadocio and vulnerability keeps this project from feeling one-note.
Looking back now, it’s wild how albums like this capture a moment in time. Back in ‘98, nobody was worried about streaming numbers or social media clout. They were too busy making music for the block parties, the car stereos, and the headphones late at night. Listening to this compilation almost feels like eavesdropping on a conversation from another era—a little rough around the edges, sure, but full of heart and hustle.
And honestly? If you ever stumble across this album, don’t sleep on it. Sure, it might not have the polish of today’s stuff, but sometimes messy is exactly what you need. Life’s chaotic anyway, right? So maybe that’s why this record hits different—it’s as imperfect as we are. Who woulda thought a bunch of tracks slapped together in the '90s could still slap decades later?
