 |
| Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s widow, Icelene Jones, second from left, holds an “ODB Jones Way” sign with members of the late rapper’s family during a street co-naming ceremony July 25, 2026, in Brooklyn’s Bedford-Stuyvesant neighborhood. The honorary designation at Franklin and Putnam avenues recognizes the Wu-Tang Clan co-founder, born Russell Tyrone Jones. (Ol’ Dirty Bastard Legacy via Instagram) |
Family members, friends and fans gathered Saturday in Bedford-Stuyvesant as the city unveiled “ODB Jones Way” at the intersection of Franklin and Putnam avenues, honoring the late Wu-Tang Clan co-founder born Russell Tyrone Jones.
The location was not selected simply because it offered an available signpost.
A mural modeled after the cover of ODB’s 1995 solo debut, “Return to the 36 Chambers: The Dirty Version,” has watched over the corner for years. His brother Ramsey Jones said their grandmother still lives on the block.
“I am very honored to be here because my grandmother’s house is on this block on Putnam Avenue,” Jones said during the ceremony.
That family connection gives the honor more weight than the usual celebrity street designation. Brooklyn placed ODB’s name where his relatives still have roots and where residents had already created a neighborhood monument to him.
Council Member Chi Ossé, whose district includes Bedford-Stuyvesant, worked with ODB’s estate and family on the dedication. Ossé previously led the successful effort to designate Nov. 15 — Jones’ birthday — as Ol’ Dirty Bastard Day in New York City.
While presenting that resolution in 2023, Ossé called Jones “a pioneer in the world of music, and one of New York’s immortal sons.”
ODB’s immortality was built on a voice that could sound like a rap verse, a singalong, an argument and a warning — sometimes before the same record ended.
He joined cousins RZA and GZA as an original member of Wu-Tang Clan, whose 1993 debut, “Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers),” rewrote the possibilities for a large rap group. Where other members arrived with dense lyricism, street reportage or martial-arts discipline, ODB seemed governed by an entirely separate set of laws.
His delivery was ragged but deliberate, moving between rapping and singing without respecting the border between them. He could blow apart the structure of a song while becoming the part listeners remembered most.
That presence helped make “Protect Ya Neck,” “Shame on a N---a” and “Da Mystery of Chessboxin’” essential pieces of Wu-Tang’s early sound. Away from the group, “Brooklyn Zoo” and “Shimmy Shimmy Ya” turned his unpredictability into the center of the record rather than something producers needed to contain.
“Return to the 36 Chambers” received a Grammy nomination and established ODB as the first Wu-Tang member to release a solo album after Method Man. He later reached an even wider audience through “Got Your Money,” featuring Kelis, and his appearance on the remix of Mariah Carey’s “Fantasy.”
That Carey collaboration became a model for the rap-and-R&B remix long before record labels turned the combination into a dependable chart formula. ODB did not arrive to smooth out the song. His unpolished energy was the point.
His fame also came with arrests, addiction, incarceration and public episodes that were often treated as entertainment while he was alive. The spectacle sometimes swallowed the music and reduced a complicated person to a collection of outrageous clips.
Jones died Nov. 13, 2004, two days before his 36th birthday.
More than two decades later, the parts of his work once dismissed as disorder sound increasingly influential. Generations of rappers have adopted his cracked melodies, abrupt vocal shifts and willingness to make personality as important as technical precision.
There was no father to his style, as the famous explanation of his name went, and attempts to copy him usually proved why.
New York’s recent honors have moved ODB beyond the caricature. The City Council’s 2023 resolution recognized him as a distinctive MC whose influence outlived him. The new sign places that recognition directly into the Brooklyn landscape that helped create him.
The mural had already made Franklin and Putnam a destination for Wu-Tang fans. ODB’s face, drawn from the welfare-card image used on his debut album, turned the side of a neighborhood building into an unofficial memorial.
Now the city has added its own marker.
That presence helped make “Protect Ya Neck,” “Shame on a N---a” and “Da Mystery of Chessboxin’” essential pieces of Wu-Tang’s early sound. Away from the group, “Brooklyn Zoo” and “Shimmy Shimmy Ya” turned his unpredictability into the center of the record rather than something producers needed to contain.
“Return to the 36 Chambers” received a Grammy nomination and established ODB as the first Wu-Tang member to release a solo album after Method Man. He later reached an even wider audience through “Got Your Money,” featuring Kelis, and his appearance on the remix of Mariah Carey’s “Fantasy.”
That Carey collaboration became a model for the rap-and-R&B remix long before record labels turned the combination into a dependable chart formula. ODB did not arrive to smooth out the song. His unpolished energy was the point.
His fame also came with arrests, addiction, incarceration and public episodes that were often treated as entertainment while he was alive. The spectacle sometimes swallowed the music and reduced a complicated person to a collection of outrageous clips.
Jones died Nov. 13, 2004, two days before his 36th birthday.
More than two decades later, the parts of his work once dismissed as disorder sound increasingly influential. Generations of rappers have adopted his cracked melodies, abrupt vocal shifts and willingness to make personality as important as technical precision.
There was no father to his style, as the famous explanation of his name went, and attempts to copy him usually proved why.
New York’s recent honors have moved ODB beyond the caricature. The City Council’s 2023 resolution recognized him as a distinctive MC whose influence outlived him. The new sign places that recognition directly into the Brooklyn landscape that helped create him.
The mural had already made Franklin and Putnam a destination for Wu-Tang fans. ODB’s face, drawn from the welfare-card image used on his debut album, turned the side of a neighborhood building into an unofficial memorial.
Now the city has added its own marker.
_(cropped)(2).jpg)
