As the group catches on, we hear, beat-by-beat, how the song "C.R.E.A.M." was constructed. We hear phrases and rhymes that now feel stitched into rap’s fabric. "I grew up on the crime side, the New York Times side." "The combination made my eyes bleeeeed." "I’m alive on arrival," Deck raps, a simple inversion made manifest. RZA, the architect of the group and fulcrum of this film, calls upon his hook-writing secret weapon, Method Man.

It was calculated internal engagement, and that competition made them sharper, hungrier, fiercer. It created and cultivated an unprecedented pool of talent. That they now lurch forward, a once-proud conglomerate gone to seed, might then only be right. The tenets of free-market capitalism birthed them.

Despite Method Man’s absence, the wu tang name put on an excellent show; the group’s sound rugged but energised as they run through an arsenal of gritty rap classic alongside afew deep solo cuts. It feels appropriate when RZA when sprays bottles of champagne over the front rows. On the second viewing, I spent more time looking at the actual performance.

RZA and GZA were survivors of stalled rap careers on other labels. All had endured extraordinary pain. Virtually every member is shown to have a complex relationship with their father—some abandoned, others in search of a replacement, others still trying to stay connected. RZA, a.k.a. Robert Diggs, and his brother Mitchell "Divine" Diggs became surrogate parents, creative guardians, and eventually business rivals. The film takes pains to underline RZA’s vision for the group, with interviewees frequently using chess and its board to indicate his wisdom and foresight in moving the various members into positions of success. Of Mics and Men achieves a rare feat in the overcrowded field of music documentary—it makes the structural record-industry elements of the story as compelling as its artistic and emotional underpinnings.

The allure of the free market splintered them to near smithereens. On their first promo run, wu tang name generator played to near-empty clubs throughout the country. Meth remembers an early show in Texas, with a cantankerous audience led by an aggressive ringleader.

He began detailing how he had been jumped at a party just two blocks away the night before. She seemed concerned, and began prodding for more details. As he was nonchalantly detailing what was obviously a fairly brutal attack and an all-around bad night, Drake started to come down the stairs.