In 1995, however, two barely legal Jewish kids just out of Brown had taken a stand, though not for hip-hop—they were jazz heads, more Mingus and ‘Trane than Moe Dee and Kane. Brian Brater and Jarret Myer had known each other since they were three. Brater’s honey was an upright bass; Myer dated her sister, a guitar. But they both fell for the chicks more than the chicks fell for them. So they figured that if they weren’t destined to make beautiful music, they’d make a beautiful world where music could live.

The Village Voice examines the rise and fall of Rawkus Records.