Every head of a certain age remembers where they were the first time they heard the Wu-Tang Clan. (It was either “Protect Ya Neck” or “C.R.E.A.M.”) It was a life-altering Nineties pop moment, a reckoning up there with “Smells Like Teen Spirit” or “Pony” – a moment of “Oh, we’re going this way now.” Few years there, they were unstoppable, album after solo album of dusty soul samples, snares that would cut your head off, and gnomic impenetrable lyrics. Like many pop phenomena, they had a whole deal you could buy into, from clothes to a mythology. Never had so many white people learned different meanings of “gods” and “earths.” The Clan seems to be hanging it up, at least live (they just did a Vegas residency, so it’s time), so final respects are due. With Run the Jewels, who copped a great deal of their sound from these gents. – Joe Gross