"The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion." -Albert Camus

The Chronicles of DOOM is one of the most well-written bios I've ever read. It has easily become a favorite rap bio. The author handles the man, the myth, and the legend that is MF DOOM with such admirable care & consideration.

Well-researched, The Chronicles of DOOM gives readers a course study in MF DOOM, complete with insider info from all who came to witness his musical genius. S.H. Fernando meticulously walks us through each project and collaboration of our time's most elusive rapper with such great detail. He shares his influences and inspirations, as well as his quirks and habits. While many of us fans know MF DOOM by his villain-like rap persona, The Chronicles of DOOM humanizes him in such a beautiful and absolute way.

For fans of MF DOOM and fans of the rap genre in general-- The Chronicles of DOOM is a must-read. Please add it to your reading list if you haven't already. Pull out your DOOM albums, queue up your playlists, and enjoy the ride that is this amazing book. It hit shelves this past Tuesday and is now available everywhere books are sold!

⭐⭐⭐⭐

Many thanks to AstraHouse, and Netgalley, and the author for the eARC of The Chronicles of DOOM. Through you all, I was able to get an early glimpse of this GEM that further immortalizes one of my favorite rappers of all time. You are most appreciated 📚❤

This biography runs into multiple issues: for one, DOOM was so fiercely private we actually know very few facts about his life, for the other, a lot of this book is stretching previously existing material instead of using the author's interview material more intensely. Some choices like the inclusion of Robert Greene quotes and the positive view of NFTs also just confuse me personally. That being said, Fernando writes with passion about a great and interesting artist.

Big props to Astra House and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy of S.H. Fernando Jr.’s new biography and cultural analysis of MF DOOM, the masked rapper and beat maker whose career in hip-hop spanned several eras and was influential in pushing the borders and possibilities of hip-hop. I was so excited to find this book available since I was a fan of DOOM’s first incarnation and appearance on 3rd Bass’s “The Gas Face” as Zev Love X and his band KMD, who made fun and conscious hip hop that fit right into the Native Tongue Collective (although they weren’t really a part of that). I had a 12” of a few 3rd Bass singles and the Cactus Album, and “Gas Face” was always my favorite. Even years after the song came out, I remember giving the gas face to others, and Zev’s bars at the end of the song provided a nice compliment to Serch and Pete Nice’s varied deliveries. I absolutely loved KMD’s first album. I still have the cassette single for “Who Me” and loved that their album sampled a lot of Sesame Street records that I listened to as a kid. “Peach Fuzz” was also a really great single that made great use of vibraphones, but also dealt with topics like being a teenager, but still not feeling old enough to appeal to girls. KMD had this appealing quality that was both conscious and universal, while also being fun and funky. They seemed like such a fun crew. Needless to say, DOOM’s early work left a mark on me for various reasons.

I also encountered DOOM later in life, sometime around 2004/2005 when I found the Special Herbs CDs in a Borders. I was instantly drawn to the Dr. Doom Marvel covers that offered little more than the track listings, which also seemed to be the names of different herbs and spices. Once I got these CDs home and started listening to them, they became such an important part of my listening. First, these albums were like nothing I really heard before. The samples were different and obscure, but also somewhat familiar—Was that the Electric Company theme song? Is that some music from Star Blazers? What did they do to “Black Cow” or The Doobie Brothers? I couldn’t get enough of this, and wanted to find out more. It was also around the time when iTunes was popular, so I could quickly access some albums, finding the Victor Vaughn and King Ghidora albums. I’m not sure ecqactly when I found out that Zev Love X and DOOM were the same, but it kind of blew my mind. I think Black B*st*rds was also available, and the story of KMD started to come back.

Some recent books, like Dante Ross’s excellent memoir Son of the City, provide some details about what happened to KMD and how they lost their deal mainly due to the artwork for the follow up album. Compounding this tragedy was the death of Zev/DOOM’s brother Subroc, shortly before the 2nd album’s release. Although it is sad on many different levels—a young, promising artist is killed in a tragic accident and a major record label fails to nurture and support their artists, confirming the kind of commodification of hop hop’s artistry as a commercial endeavor for many corporations. However, S. H. Fernando’s book explores not only the details of these events, but also delves in to analyze the impact on DOOM’s artistry and adaptation/development of his villainous persona MF DOOM.

I absolutely loved this book and could not put it down. For one, I have strong connections with DOOM’s music at various points in my life. Furthermore, I loved how Fernando’s book is not only a detailed and complex biography that incorporates interviews and sources from the elusive and incredibly private DOOM and those who knew him, but also engages in in depth analysis, examining history, pop culture, literature, films, television and cartoons, as well as celebrity culture and technology to help understand the themes and signifiers that made DOOM such an iconic and influential figure in hip hop and popular music. It is such a great blend and helps readers to understand the varied influences and contexts that shaped DOOM’s perspective, style, lyrics, and performance.

The book starts out with general biographical details, but does not provide much about DOOM’s early life. We learn a little about his home, but most of the early chapters are spent detailing the development of KMD and their work with Serch and Pete Nice. 3rd Bass was a fun group, and I totally remember this time, watching Yo MTV Raps and Rap City. However, I also loved how Fernando’s book takes a broader approach and looks at other events happening around this time, especially in the NYC Hip-Hop world. It not only helps us understand the trends and styles, but also what the Dumile brothers were looking to challenge and create their own unique voice. We also learned about the influence of Malachi York, leader of the Nuwaubian Nation, a kind of cult that I read about in Ocker’s excellent book Cult Following. Through these details, we gain a better understanding of some of the factors that influenced DOOM’s eventual outlook and his pursuit of knowledge, learning constantly to reinvent himself.

I really appreciated Fernando’s research and analysis of the kind of criticism of hip-hop from the early 1990s. Although I wasn’t sure how events like the LA Riots, NWA, and Ice-T connected with East Coast hip-hop like KMD, Fernando does a great job weaving the kind of white panic and parental control that led to the creation of advisory stickers. In particular, it was interesting to read more about Body Count’s infamous Cop Killer song (as well as the reference to Paris’s “Bush Killa”), and the fallout that resulted from these first amendment cases. I couldn’t help but think about which first amendment warriors would come to the defense of these albums and artists today. Fernando’s research helps to contextualize the scene that eventually led to KMD’s loss of a deal. It was also interesting that much of the criticism came not from parents or white politicians, but rather from Black journalists who, as Fernando and Dante Ross have speculated, probably didn’t pay attention to the meaning and content of the album. Even looking back now, it’s hard to understand how the image of killing a stereotype could be misconstrued, but Fernando’s analysis helps to also frame the challenges that artists like DOOM faced in maintaining their artistry while also battling the commercial demands of working for a major corporation. It also probably helps to explain why DOOM frequently worked with independent labels throughout the remainder of his career.

This kind of deep level analysis and examination of the various factors at play in DOOM’s career are what make this book such an excellent and interesting read. Other sections look to DOOM’s artistic predecessors, whether it is examining the comic artists, super heroes and villains, or other musicians who most likely influenced his art and style. I also loved learning about the other visual artists and promotional people that DOOM worked with—including learning more about Blake Lethem, who helped to design DOOM’s mask and created his tag logo. Interestingly, Blake is also the brother of author Jonathan Lethem, and reading a little about his experiences with hip-hop, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was partly the basis for Mingus from Lethem’s Fortress of Solitude, a book that focuses on the early days of hip-hop as well as super heroes.

As someone who loved the Special Herbs albums, as well as Mad Villain, and MMM…FOOD, I really enjoyed reading about the creation of these albums, especially since DOOM’s samples are all so unique and his production style, as Fernando reminds us, is idiosyncratic, maybe a little sloppy, but also endearing, kind of like a punk rock, DIY hip hop production and beat making. For me, I loved the sonic density of his records, and how there’s so much layering. Not quite like the Bomb Squad, but just lots of different references and touch points that were appealing to me and familiar to my own interactions with music from childhood and beyond. Fernando’s analysis and exploration of these samples was helpful and enlightening. I really loved learning where the samples came from as well as their significance to DOOM and how they represented his own interests and style. Since DOOM was a kind of mysterious figure, Fernando does an admirable job unveiling the mask as much as possible to help us learn more about who Daniel Dumile really was. We are reminded that he was a loving father, an artist, and a student—not only of rap, but later on, of esoteric knowledge. The later chapters that detail DOOM’s exile in England (after being denied re-entry to the US due to his British passport and non-citizen status) were really interesting. On the one hand, it seems crazy that he couldn’t return to the US where he lived for most of his life. However, it was also fortuitous that he found people to help him get settled and spend time on Youtube learning about various theories and ideas that largely informed his artistry. These interviews with those who worked with DOOM were amazing—they were interesting in providing more perspective into this mysterious artist, but also insightful in helping us understand his influences and mindset, how he may have been gradually developing and evolving his own artistry and persona. Fernando and some of his interview subjects make some great points about artists and reinvention, and how many times fans, especially zealous fans, can often reject when artists try to evolve and grow, especially in hip hop, which despite being a groundbreaking and revolutionary art form, has also been coopted and commodified, relying on formulaic albums and styles and algorithmic topics and themes to sell. Fernando reminds us, through interviews with others, that while DOOM’s albums became more challenging and experimental, the sales dropped off. People were more interested in hearing the same songs, which also might have been why he reverted to DOOM bots, people dressed like DOOM sent to performance spaces. I loved that Fernando and others called this out, but also acknowledged that DOOM was giving people what they wanted, and using the mask to his advantage. This kind of depersonalization and hidden identity provided Dumile/DOOM with his anonymity, but also with an out, allowing others to fill in when he wasn’t feeling it. Fernando raises these interesting questions about art, identity, and commerce, and what the artists’ responsibilities are to their audience—as well as the ways we consume art and what we, as an audience, expect of artists.

Finally, the book ends detailing DOOM’s legacy and strangely focuses on the commercialization of DOOM’s legacy, looking at the different collabtive ways DOOM sought to possibly monetize his image. Although Fernando didn’t take a critical stance, it seemed like DOOM pursued products he was interested in or used, not just those that paid him the most. In fact, it looked like these companies (Clarks, Nike, Puma) sought out DOOM due to his popularity. It was a little odd to end the book this way, but it also helps to show DOOM’s enduring legacy and impact on music and especially hip hop. I appreciated the analysis and examination of DOOM’s last days. I, like just about everyone else, was shocked to learn about DOOM’s passing on New Year’s Eve 2020, and even more surprised to learn that it happened 2 months prior. Fernando provides some other key details about DOOM’s death, which was helpful but also frustrating that he experienced some medical racism. Regardless, I really appreciated that Fernando, through research and interviews, helps to flesh out DOOM’s final years in exile, showing us how his health and his own interests may have slowed his art and contributed to his death.

I can’t recommend this book enough. It is an amazing tribute to one of the most important artists in music and especially hip hop. Furthermore, it situates DOOM’s contributions by connecting his art to many other art forms that are considered more low brow (cartoons, comics, monster movies/Godzilla, quiet storm r-n-b), but also shows how an artist not only can make use of these disparate forms to create something wholly new, but also remind us of how this is the spirit of hip-hop—reinvention and recreation, and it is also representative of DOOM’s life, reinventing himself from Daniel Dumile, to Zev Love X, to MF DOOM, and eventually DOOM (all caps). Highly recommended book, and I can’t wait to read Fernando’s book on Wu-Tang Clan.

The definitive biography of MF DOOM, charting the reclusive and revered hip-hop artist’s life, career, and eventual immortality.

"Fernando provides a comprehensive look at DOOM's life and career, meticulously researched through interviews with the rapper’s many collaborators and those closest to the man behind the mask. His track-by-track breakdowns of DOOM's albums will have sample spotters diving into their record collections. A perfect pairing with Dan Charnas's Dilla Time (2022), this is an essential exploration into the world of 'your favorite rapper’s favorite rapper.'"
—Carlos Orellana, Booklist (starred review)

On December 31, 2020, the world was shocked to learn about the death of hip-hop legend MF DOOM. Born in London and raised in the suburban enclave of Long Beach, New York, Daniel Dumile Jr.'s love of cartoons and comic books would soon turn him into one of hip-hop's most enigmatic, prolific, and influential figures.

Sweeping and definitive, The Chronicles of DOOM: Unraveling Rap’s Masked Iconoclast recounts the rise, fall, redemption, and untimely demise of MF DOOM. Broken down into five sections: The Man, The Myth, The Mask, The Music, and The Legend, journalist S. H. Fernando, or SKIZ, chronicles the life of Daniel Dumile Jr., beginning in the house he grew up in in Long Beach, NY, into the hip-hop group KMD, onto the stage of his first masked show, through the countless collabs, and across the many different cities Daniel called home. Centering the music, SKIZ deftly lays out the history of east-coast rap against DOOM's life story and dissects the personas, projects, tracks, and lyrics that led to his immortality.

Including exclusive interviews with those who worked closely with DOOM and providing an unknown, intimate, behind the scenes look into DOOM’s life, The Chronicles of DOOM is the definitive biography of MF DOOM, a supervillain on stage and hero to those who paid attention.

Growing up in the 1980s, a time when hip-hop was just beginning to make waves, my exposure to non-local music and critiques largely came from magazines and interviews due to not having cable television. Although I was cognizant of MF Doom and his various personas, I acknowledge there were gaps in my knowledge stemming from limited access and varying interest levels. This book aims to bridge these gaps-for people like me- by compiling writings on MF Doom and positioning his work within the era's musical context. It endeavors to humanize and somewhat deify a "villain" through the lens of a hero, employing comic book analogies, and in my opinion, it achieves this goal. Learning more about such a pivotal yet potentially overlooked figure in hip-hop history was indeed enlightening.

I freaked out when I saw this was available. It was so interesting and while could have been written a little better I enjoyed it and found it very interesting and I learned a lot

The Chronicles of DOOM is a great biography documenting the life, career and lasting impact of MF DOOM on Rap, music and popular culture.