‘Cypress Hill: Insane in the Brain’ Reveals How Group Cultivated Strain Of High-Potency Hip Hop

This past Wednesday, April 20th, potheads the world over sparked up and ate gummies and and applied CBD oil in observance of 420, the annual celebration of all things marijuana. While I haven’t partaken of the drug in at least 20 years, I celebrated appropriately, screening the new Showtime documentary Cypress Hill: Insane in the Brain. Though Cannabis culture is at the core of the group’s identity, dope smoking morons they are not. One of the most important hip hop acts of the 1990s, Cypress Hill’s legacy rests on their inventive sound, which bridged the sonic gap between East and West Coasts, and their image, which brought to the fore the distinctive Latino street culture of Southern California. 

Insane in the Brain is a family affair. It was directed by noted photographer and former Cypress Hill road manager Estevan Oriol, who also directed the Netflix documentary LA Originals. Familial bonds pulse like blood through the documentary about the hip hop group who were named after the street they grew up on and whose love for each other is unconditional. They may have come from different backgrounds but they were united in their thirst for greatness. While members came and went through the years, they left not in acrimony but with the unspoken promise they’ll always be there for each other when in need.

Like many a great hip hop act, Cypress Hill is built around the dual and dueling voices of its two MCs. Sen Dog, born Senen Reyes, was the traditionalist, with a quick delivery and a gruff swagger that rested comfortably alongside other elite West Coast MCs. In contrast, B-Real, born Louis Freese, had a high pitched nasal delivery, sounding like, in the words of Ice-T, “the crazy Mexicans that were on Angel dust.“ Add to that the inventive production work of DJ Muggs, born Lawrence Muggerud, which drew on oldies, Southern soul and classic rock for inspiration, and you had a winning strain of high-potency hip hop.  

Oriol is not just the film’s director but our tour guide. Throughout Insane in the Brain, we return to his Los Angeles studio where we see him rummaging through old scrapbooks, tour itineraries and contact sheets. The group’s name pays homage to Cypress Ave. in Southeastern LA, where Sen Dog grew up after his family emigrated from Cuba. Outside his childhood home, he marvels at the height of a palm tree planted in his youth. B-Real grew up in the same neighborhood and is of Mexican and Cuban heritage, their bond sealed with the threat of violence which ended with them sharing a joint. 

Like many young Angelenos in the 1980s, the members of Cypress Hill got caught up in gang life. “It was basically impossible to live in the hood and not be gang affiliated,” Oriol explains. B-Real gang banged until he was shot. Believing music to be a better choice than “jail or the grave,” he and Sen began working with white Queens, New York-native DJ Muggs. “He masterminded the whole thing and made it to where we could present it as a group,” says Sen Dog.

Looking for an original concept for the group, Muggs directed his MCs to “be the Cheech & Chong in this motherfucker,” a reference to the 1970s comic duo who built their routines around references to Chicano street life and post-hippie drug culture. The group would become ambassadors of the weed-smoking world, rapping about the virtues of marijuana and calling for its legalization. According to Ruffhouse Records honcho Joe “The Butcher” Nicolo, the copious amounts of herb smoked during recording sessions had a tangible effect on the music, saying, “Production choices were definitely enhanced by being in an altered state.”

While Latinos had played a vital role in hip hop since its South Bronx inception, up until that point in time its cultural expression had an East Coast “Nuyorican” accent. Cypress Hill gave voice to the West Coast Latino experience, whether in the lowrider anthems they sampled or the Pendleton shirts and workwear they sported. The addition of percussionist Eric “Bobo” Correa, son of Latin jazz great Willie Bobo, cemented their status as Hispanic hip hop’s leading lights.  

Cypress Hill also successfully crossed over to a rock audience. It was an easy transition. The members had grown up on hard rock like Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin before hip hop turned their heads inside out. They toured relentlessly, appearing on successive Lollapalooza festivals and Woodstock ‘94, and took pride in their live show. “We did it like a fucking punk rock show combined with a Cannabis convention mixed with Pink Floyd, not to mention a giant inflatable Buddha,” says Oriol proudly. 

Success seldom comes without its growing pains. Burnt out from the endless cycle of recording and touring, Sen Dog left the group for several years, as did DJ Muggs. Both ultimately returned to the fold. Now OGs able to enjoy the fruits of their labor, these days the members of Cypress Hill busy themselves with podcasts, production work, motorcycle clubs and marijuana dispensaries. Insane in the Brain ends as it began, on Cypress Ave., as the bandmates look up in wonder at the palm tree outside Sen Dog’s old home which now, like the band itself, reaches up into the sky.

Benjamin H. Smith is a New York based writer, producer and musician. Follow him on Twitter: @BHSmithNYC.