So we waited. We put it on. We wandered whether the Grand Old Dukes could still do it in an age when every other rapper on the corner feared no-one and respected nothing.
And it was good. Very good. That flow was there, along with a crisp freshness that rolled back the years to the ages of gold for hip-hop and ages that came even before that. No longer with us, but with us, A Tribe Called Quest proudly reoccupied a space in contemporary African American music which everyone realised afterwards had been theirs to lose all along.