Mask-clad and masterful, Daniel Dumile, known under a plethora of pseudonyms but most notably MF DOOM, spit with a vengeance. This vengeful spirit is fitting given his commitment to villainy, a theme woven throughout his extensive discography. A little Doctor Doom, a little Destro from G.I. Joe, MF DOOM operated his villainous aura adroitly, cementing himself as one of the most idiosyncratic rappers of his generation.
To the shock and dismay of rap fans across the world, DOOM died on October 31, 2020 at age 49. To commemorate two years since his unexpected death, join Playback in recounting some notable moments of his life and career.
Above all, there was no DOOM without his trademark metallic mask. The mask was an extension of his persona, a physical manifestation of his commitment to anonymity. Through obscuring many of the details of his personal life as well as his actual face, DOOM reminded us all to look beyond outward appearances and truly appreciate the music behind the mask—a defiant “fuck-you” to a hip hop scene that pedestals aesthetics and image over all else.
DOOM was no stranger to the limits of commercial hip hop. Prior to becoming this Mephistophelian menace, London-born but NY-raised DOOM found his humble rap beginnings in Kausing Much Damage, the hip hop trio he created with his younger brother, Dingilizwe “DJ Subroc” Dumile in 1988. DOOM, then rapping under the alias Zev Love X, quickly established himself as a force to be reckoned with.
KMD flew near to fame, releasing one album and getting featured on 3rd Bass’s 1988 hit “The Gas Face,” but could not quite reach the commercial success of contemporaries at the time due to a series of demoralizing developments: challenges over the album art for their planned second LP, Black Bastards, which led to the album being shelved and the trio getting dropped by Elektra and, most notably, Subroc’s unexpected death in 1993—a villain origin story of epic proportions.
Subroc’s passing had a profound effect on the rest of DOOM’s career. In the years following his death, DOOM lurked in the shadows—waiting, watching, plotting his comeback. He reemerged in 1997 at an open mic at Lower Manhattan’s Nuyorican Poets Cafe, donning a stocking cap to conceal his face (a prototype of the mask hip hop heads across the globe would come to revere).
In his raps, he took on a sort of grandiose persona that contrasted the elusivity of his personal life. This duality makes total sense to me, though, as DOOM’s identity seemed to have been built on contradictions—one of the biggest being that he never quite attained mainstream acclaim despite the fact that many of your favorite rappers would likely cite him as one of their foremost inspirations.
His villainously brilliant flow and prodigious lyricism shone through across all of his projects. Sometimes whimsical, sometimes gravely serious—always cunning—his rhymes drip with captivating verbosity. In fact, he had one of the widest vocabularies in all of hip hop, surpassing even that of Shakespeare himself. More of DOOM’s creativity comes from his prolific sampling, often incorporating semi-obscure audio from old-school Marvel cartoons into his tracks to make listeners feel even more like they’re flipping through the pages of a comic book.
His penchant for production parlayed into 83 separate releases across his career: notably, six solo studio albums (two using other alter egos Viktor Vaughn and King Geedorah) and seven collaborations with industry giants like Madlib, Danger Mouse, and Czarface.
There isn’t much to say about this dark horse who “came to destroy rap” that hasn’t already been said by rappers, writers, fans and foes alike throughout his illustrious career. His passing left a gaping hole in the hip hop industry, but we can take comfort in knowing that DOOM was eternally reunited with his brother and son, all of whom died prematurely.
More so an entity than a person, DOOM’s reach is felt through his larger-than-life identity that elevates his artistry above all. The enigmatic emcee’s legacy of immense power, hip hop musicianship, creativity, inspiration, and resilience will continue to be realized for years to come; it’s no question that this villain died a hero’s death.
An ominous homage to his afterlife, DOOM raps on seminal track “Doomsday”: On Doomsday, ever since the womb / ‘Til I’m back where my brother went, that’s what my tomb will say / Right above my government; Dumile / Either unmarked or engraved, hey, who’s to say?
To pay your respects, check out the following tracks for a cross section of some of the most musically stunning (imho) tracks in his oeuvre. And remember: all caps when you spell the man name.