Thirty years ago, hip-hop hit the big time. I had been exposed to earlier pioneers — Sugarhill Gang, Grandmaster Flash, et al — a few years earlier, at college parties. But now, fresh out of school with my first job, rap was invading my AOR radio station, Rock 100 the KATT, in Oklahoma City. Turntable scratching, synthesized beats and unabashedly sampling rock classics by Aerosmith, War and Led Zeppelin, I first found Run DMC and the Beastie Boys mildly amusing, then irritating. It wasn’t until a few years later, with the trippier, happier De La Soul and the Jungle Brothers — and the aggressive intensity of Public Enemy and NWA — that I started seeing it differently. But with this album, rap busted through the doors of the world, including mine.