DMX – “…And Then There Was X”

By the time …And Then There Was X dropped in December 1999, DMX was already hip-hop’s hardest working figure. In just two years, he had released It’s Dark and Hell Is Hot and Flesh of My Flesh, Blood of My Blood, both critical and commercial smashes. To follow them up so quickly with a third LP, and have it debut at No. 1 on the Billboard charts as well, cemented X’s status as a force of nature. Few rappers have ever carried such raw momentum, and fewer still have done it with such relentless intensity.

The album works largely because of DMX himself. His raspy, feral bark is a singular weapon, an instrument that instantly commands attention and separates him from any peer. Where other rappers leaned on smooth flows or lyrical gymnastics, DMX relied on a delivery that felt like a man testifying, threatening and celebrating all at once. He could rap about violence, paranoia or prayer, and it always felt urgent and authentic.

Production plays a big role, too. The beats throughout …And Then There Was X jump between moods without ever losing cohesion. “What These Bitches Want” brings an R&B-tinged sheen courtesy of Sisqó’s hook, contrasting with the dark menace of “X Is Coming for You,” which plays almost like horror rap. Then there’s “Party Up (Up in Here),” arguably the most unlikely club smash of its era — an anthem about beating down enemies that somehow became the soundtrack to dance floors everywhere.

Tracks like “The Professional” reveal DMX’s storytelling gifts, placing listeners inside the mindset of a hitman. “Fame” leans into his darker side, presenting the trappings of notoriety with bitterness rather than glory. “What’s My Name” is pure adrenaline, DMX at his most commanding, a mission statement as much as a single. These songs proved that DMX could make anthems that were as commercially viable as they were uncompromisingly raw.

Even the skits, usually throwaway moments on late ’90s rap albums, work here. They serve to deepen the atmosphere rather than derail it, contributing to the album’s pacing and personality. DMX’s world feels fully fleshed out, chaotic but purposeful.

That said, …And Then There Was X isn’t flawless. Some of the deeper cuts, like “DXL (Hard White)” and “Don’t You Ever,” don’t carry the same weight as the highlights. They feel more like padding than essential parts of the record. But just when the album threatens to sag, DMX brings it back with something like “Good Girls, Bad Guys,” a finale that feels both reflective and true to his dual nature of sinner and survivor.

Themes of violence, loyalty, faith and struggle run throughout the record, consistent with his earlier work. DMX was never one to glorify the lifestyle he rapped about. Instead, he embodied it, portraying its contradictions and costs. That’s why songs that could have been throwaway thug rap in someone else’s hands became cultural landmarks in his.

…And Then There Was X stands as the record that catapulted DMX from rising star to household name. It’s not just the hits that make it matter, but the way the album captures his raw energy and versatility in one package. More than 25 years later, it’s easy to see why X was untouchable at the turn of the millennium. Few rappers have ever been so prolific and so undeniable at the same time.

For Fans Of:

• 50 Cent – Get Rich or Die Tryin’
• Ja Rule – Rule 3:36
• Onyx – All We Got Iz Us