'Planet Rock' stemmed from the combined efforts of Arthur Baker, who produced it, Afrika Bambaataa, the artist, and Tom Silverman, who released the thing on his then fledgling Tommy Boy label.

In the late 70s Tom had been an obsessive disco fan and was publishing an industry tip sheet called Disco News. When disco became a dirty word the rag was revamped under the new banner of Dance Music Report. Publishing was handled out of Tom's apartment and while it made him few dollars, he did gain a knowledge of the glorious music biz.

Tom ducked out of his environmental geology finals at college to set up Tommy Boy, the first release being 'Havin' Fun' by Cotton Candy. For this Silverman hocked all his possessions and borrowed about 10,000 dollars. Ungratefully the record sank without trace. But, again, it was part of a learning process.

Next came the Jazzy Five's 'Jazzy Sensation' which flogged a respectable 30,000.

Tom: "That to me was like a major hit. It paid off the debts but then I had two more stiffs."

Tom Silverman is a bubbly talker who, like a lot of New Yorkers, would be interesting to gauge in words per minute. He's proud of his brainchild and the rumble it caused in the industry at large. Smallness and efficiency seem to be key factors. Even now, when the label is internationally recognised, it has only recently moved to an office of appropriate proportions. Including Tom, there are three people on the staff.

The crucial point was meeting with Bambaataa:

"I was looking into the reasons for my early attempts at rap records failing. When I met Bambaataa and the people from the uptown scene, I discovered that rapping isn't about rhyming words, it's about a spirit. A feeling.

"After that meeting things were immediately comfortable and immediately real. It seemed that a whole lot else in the music business was fake. Graven images and no reality.

"Rock in America is the figment of some mistaken imagination. Heavy metal and all that, it doesn't exist around any social group. You go uptown and you feel the music. You can't really go anywhere and find people bopping around to Molly Hatchett. That's music to pop zits to. This is a sociological statement and a need that's in the blood of the people who are into it."

AFRIKA BAMBAATAA sits in a Tommy Boy backroom, one that is still under construction. The rattle of hammers and drills fills the air. Bambaataa can reel off a potted history of the hip hop movement seemingly without pausing for breath, a stream of conversation dutifully punctuated with relevant dates and places. An ability no doubt practised to deal with the legions of NY youth scene chroniclers from around the world who've passed his way and pumped him for answers over the last year or so.

He recalls the scene in the Bronx and his first connection with Tom:

"Tom had been writing about me in the magazine and talked about the Zulu Nation. The Zulu Nation is a large young adult and youth organisation which is basically dealing with survival and the world today. We have rappers and graffiti artists, break dancers, people who road manage other groups. Just people who want to be around the music and go to different parties.

"In the 70s most radio was disco orientated and hip hop was anti-disco. It had no colour, it wasn't black or white but took from a lot of things. Bits of rock and jazz from everywhere.

"In those days there were no rap records so we made cassettes of parties and they went out all over the country. You might have a cousin in North Carolina and you could mail him a tape of what was happening in the Bronx and he'd mail you back a tape of what was happening down there.

"There were copies made, a cab company even had tapes of hip hop which they would play to passengers young adults who would rather hear that than the radio."

And 'Planet Rock'?

Tom: "Arthur Baker and I were still high from the success of 'Jazzy Sensation' and we thought 'Planet Rock' might sell maybe double that. But it was phenomenal. The real exciting thing about the record business is when a record breaks like that and it has nothing to do with promotion or anything except the grooves. It spread like wild fire. That sort of thing happens in England all the time but here maybe only twice a year and only in black music.

"At the time there was only one other person working in the company with me and we sold 600,000 12 inchers. Atlantic has never sold more than 450,000 12 inchers.

"I investigated who it was that was into it. I was managing the Soul Sonic Force for a time and one gig was at a skating rink in upstate New York. It was mainly black kids between 10 and 22 but then I saw this nerdy looking white kid in a car, thick glasses and listening to 'Planet Rock' over and over. There were a lot of white closet funkers that got into it. It carried from that basic hip hop element to older black and white new wave audiences.

"That record was the mother of electro-funk and we owned the whole pie. There was an audience for that music that no none knew existed. I'd say 750,000 people at the time were waiting for a black Kraftwerk sound to emerge."

Bambaataa: "After Sugarhill Gang's hit with 'Rapper's Delight' a whole load of rap records flooded the market and people weren't interested because all it was, was people boasting about how good they were, how many young ladies they could get and what great lovers they were. But when 'Planet Rock' came out and, at the same time, Grandmaster Flash put out 'The Message', it built the rap scene up again. 'The Message' was going into it was happening in the street and 'Planet Rock' was taking it to the future.

"It was talking about everywhere you know, not just Earth but on other planets too where people have problems because it's a fool who believes the creator just made Earth for people, so when the people there have a their problems they go away and get into their 'Planet Rock' and do their thing.

(That make sit all very clear, Bam!)

"With those two records people started buying rap records again. A lot of the new New York records are electronic and not too many people are talking about how many young ladies they can grab in the night."

Tom: "Now there are groups around the world emulating that sound. Although the London mafia, DJs like Chris Hill and Froggy won't play this music because they think synths are dehumanising and that soul music is all about negros sweating and grunting and bleeding. They look at them with a jungle vision, 'check your spears at door and let's party'. That's not what black music is ab out. It's just as sophisticated as anything else."

"Bambaataa is like the third level. James Brown the first, then George Clinton and Bootsy and that whole thing, now Bam and Grandmaster Flash are next.

Bambaataa: "There's people getting tired of electronic stuff but me, I feel electronics will always be here from now on because that's where the Earth is heading. The nuclear age, the electronic age, getting into space, machines, videos. So, right now, it's building up to a war between electronics and people who want to keep true instruments. A lot of people say synthesisers and beat boxes are taking the jobs of people that play instruments and they say they want to hear the real raw sound.

"A lot are just mixed up, they don't know if a thing is a real piano or a real trombone or real drums, only a true musician could really tell. But most people don't even give a damn what it is as long as they're feeling good and enjoying the record."

THE PROBLEM with bearing a monster such as 'Planet Rock' which effectively creates a new 'sound' is to continue the innovation and not slide into cliché.

Tom: "I've started to do records that aren't derivative. 'Planet Rock' was derivative of Kraftwerk, 'Looking For The Perfect Beat' was derivative of nothing except 'Planet Rock'. We could easily have done what the Gap Band did and keep remaking the same record with the same beats and the same rhythm. But we want to progress and bring people with us.

"'Perfect Beat' was eons ahead of 'Planet Rock' and 'Renegades Of Funk' is a different record altogether, inspired by African chants and things like that."

Bambaataa: "A strange number that one. African chants and stuff, it's doing real well in the downtown rock pool. They like the chants and the instrumental.

"With 'Perfect Beat' a lot of people just thought we were talking about music but we were talking about whatever your perfect beat is: astrology, sex, visions, religion and stuff – and the other side, "all the different countries looking for their perfect beat," but they don't listen and at the end you hear the bomb going off. They haven't got their perfect beat, they're just hot heads and the world blows up."

And how has being in the eyes and ears of the world affected the scene in the Bronx?

Bambaataa: In the Bronx right now it's not as strong commercially as it is outside. It's like low-down. You have two forms of rap. You have the roots rap and the commercial rap.

"The roots rapping is when all of us just get together and have our party and everybody comes in regular clothes. People just dance and party with the DJ spinning. Whatever group is playing just get up there and control the crowd.

"Commercial rapping is more like what you see in Wild Style. But now a lot of the places have closed down and a lot of people have got more into the commercial rapping. They've moved on and travelled other places. Commercial rapping is with the records, the groups that now go to all parts of the world and wear costumes and put on shows. All that stuff to please the audience.

"But there are times when all the groups get back together. Like with the Zulu Nation anniversary. That brings back everybody who wants to participate and do it for the community."

The post-'Renegades' Bam plans?

Tom: "We're getting ready to do a record with Trouble Funk and Soul Sonic together which will be more of a Washington sound. And we're thinking about approaching James Brown. We want to do a Bambaataa record with James Brown as guest shouter."

Bambaataa: I would really like to go to England and live there for maybe two or three months. I really enjoyed it before, they're really into the trendy things there, one week this thing, next week something else is happening.

"I'm looking to make some records with some of the groups and producers there. I wouldn't mind working with Trevor Horn, Thomas Dolby, even Gary Numan. Some of the people from Germany too, like I'm dying to do something with Kraftwerk. Plus a lot of people in Africa too."

CURRENTLY CAUSING most excitement in the Tommy Boy camp are their new signings, Dr Rock And The Force MD's.

The first time I set foot in the Tommy Boy office, the fivesome were celebrating the arrival of the first pressings of their debut single, 'Let Me Love You'. Often they're to be found busking as they cross the river on the Staten Island ferry. There are two short ones, a fat one, a cool one and another one called Jesse who earns a crust by doing Michael Jackson impersonations in Times Square.

At Tommy Boy they amused themselves by diving into excerpts from their dance routine as they awaited their vocal coach, Craig Derry.

Once in the place, Craig has the ensemble standing in a circle and steers them through some basic throat liberating exercises ("that's it, your whole face should vibrate") and doles out punishments of press ups for any member who's vocal agility isn't sharp enough from the start.

Tom: "Those guys were going over as the Force MC 'S as rappers but they weren't too great. They did happen, however, to be great singers. I heard them at the Bronx River Centre at one of Bambaataa's Zulu Nation anniversary parties. They had that street sensitivity but could also sing.

"They're going to be part of a whole new style from Tommy Boy. Not electroboogie although there will be electric drums on some of the stuff but not all of the stuff. There will be real guitar and bass, some synth but not much, mainly vocals. It'll be very sparse instrumentally.

"We really want to push the vocal harmony thing. The role model is Frankie Lymon And The Teenagers. That's where it starts but it goes past that.

"I think there is another pie that people haven't discovered yet which is the missing link between hip hop and doo wop. The same kids that were standing around-on street corners in the 50s singing doo wop are standing on the same street right now rapping.

"It's not immediately obvious like our other stuff but you hear 'Let Me Love You' and it'll stick in your head." (I have and it does!) "And they write their own songs too, which is a first for one of our groups apart from Jonzun Crew.

"They've got so much energy. We're just trying to translate that into vinyl. That's what's missing with a whole lot of records right now – real energy, not just synthetic energy."