When Run DMC’s Darryl McDaniels was growing up in Hollis, Queens, he used to watch infomercials on television about “Sounds of the ’50s.”

Back then, they were just CDs.

But McDaniels is older now — and wiser.

“I’m understanding what that meant to people,” he says from his Manhattan home, speaking in a distinguishable, rhythmic pattern like only a microphone master would. “When you’re considered nostalgic, that means you meant something to a generation.”

When “Rap of the ’80s” CDs are sold on television 30 years from now, Run DMC will undoubtedly be on them, and McDaniels will be hosting the infomercials.

Why? Because he is the introspective one. Run, McDaniel’s partner in rhyme, is the image-setting, loud mouth. “That’s why he’s Run, he’s always running his mouth,” McDaniels says. And Jam Master Jay, the group’s founding DJ, is the musical one — the street genius.

To say Daniels is introspective is an understatement. He’s more along the lines of genius.

He’s the witty professor who always manages to keep his students interested in school — old school, to be specific. And the topic for today: Rap, and how Run DMC changed it forever.

McDaniels is a hip-hop scholar. For every important element in rock ‘n’ roll history, he can name rap’s equal.

His analogy of Frank Sinatra to Run DMC is a prime example: “We’re gonna be rapping and DJing until we’re in our 90s,” he says. “We have a purpose to represent hip-hop to the fullest extent possible and to stay in this so we can go out like Sinatra.”

Like Ol’ Blue Eyes, Run DMC is about longevity. All of the group’s firsts — the first rappers to earn a multi-platinum album (“Raising Hell,” 1986), the first to have a video on MTV, the first to appear on “Saturday Night Live,” the first to grace the cover of Rolling Stone — are secondary.

“People call us the godfathers, the ambassadors of hip-hop,” McDaniels says. “We don’t mind being called that because we want to do for hip-hop what the Rolling Stones have done for rock ‘n’ roll. We want to stay in the game as long as The Temptations and Bob Dylan.”

What may come as a surprise to people is that Run DMC has taken the same roots-rock approach to achieving longevity as the Stones and Dylan. McDaniels says the group has been playing 20 nights out of the month for as long as Run DMC has been in existence.

But when a group hasn’t released a record in four years, shows receive scarce promotion. Run DMC also devotes time to college and overseas tours, which tend to be of little priority in an industry that feeds off stadiums and arenas.

“We don’t bust no brain cells worrying about gettin’ our album out,” McDaniels says. “‘Cause we gonna do what we was born to do and that’s DJ and rap live. It’s easy to stay together because the thing that keeps us going is we always do what we was doing before we made records.”

McDaniels, Run (Joseph Simmons) and Jay (Jason Mizell) grew up together in Hollis, a relatively sturdy black community in Queens, New York. They spent much of their childhood rapping at birthday parties and parks.

As the guys started college in the fall of 1982, Run’s brother Russell began making a name for himself as the manager of early rhymers Kurtis Blow and Whodini.

Russell eventually formed his own label with Beastie Boys producer Rick Rubin, Def Jam Records, and introduced Run DMC to another pioneering New York rap label, Profile Records.

Run DMC acquainted hard beats and overlapping vocals to the rap world in 1983, when the group released its first Profile single, “It’s Like That,” which became a Top 20 R & B hit and paved the road for “Hard Times” and 1984’s “Rock Box.”

McDaniels and crew released a full-length, self-titled record later that year, which went on to upgrade rap from a singles-oriented game to an album-oriented one.

The group followed “Run DMC” with 1985’s “King Of Rock,” which unveiled radio hits “You Talk Too Much” and “Can You Rock It Like This,” and began ripping at the barriers between rap and rock that the group would eventually tear down with 1986’s “Raising Hell.”

A ground-breaking cover of Aerosmith’s “Walk This Way,” featuring Steven Tyler and Joe Perry, along with hit singles “It’s Tricky,” “You Be Illin'” and “My Adidas,” made Run DMC’s next record a mammoth success.

McDaniels explains, “‘Raising Hell’ incorporated everything from our first two albums and everything after that. That’s the main album of what we’re about.”

The group spent the following year touring with the Beasties on the Together Forever Tour and recording “Tougher Than Leather,” which was accompanied by a movie of the same name, neither of which impressed the vastly evolving rap audience of the time.

After 1989’s “Back From Hell” received a similar response, the group took a four-year hiatus from recording that ended with the God-hyping “Down With The King” in 1993.

With word on the street that Run had become a minister, rumors flourished that Run DMC had become a gospel group.

“When we came out with the ‘Down With The King’ album we just wanted to let everybody know spiritually where we was at,” McDaniels says. “When we said we’re Christian we didn’t have to stop doing what we did, ’cause we never did anything wrong.”

“Down With The King” did spark controversy; however, it was the Christians who were disturbed by Run DMC’s comeback theme, not the hip-hop followers.

“Rappers always say ‘I’m Muslim’ or ‘I’m down with Farrakahn,’ you know, it’s just cool to do that. So when we said, ‘We’re down with Jesus,’ it wasn’t a big deal,” McDaniels explains. “But a lot of the religious people got mad at us because how could we be rappers and be Christian?

“We had to go around explaining, ‘Yo, God made all this stuff, you know what I’m saying. If I’m a plumber and I’m a Christian, does that mean I can’t go fix sinks? Rappin’ is what we do.'”

McDaniels is quick to point out that Run DMC gives him and his mic-mates a chance to talk to kids about spirituality — as long as the speakers are turned off.

“I’m not gonna put the message in the music and turn away the fans that I’ve been blessed with by me just being dope on the microphone,” McDaniels says. “We’re a rap group that is Christian not a Christian rap group.”

In fifteen years of here-today-gone-today rap groups, Run DMC has remained the one constant of hip-hop. The career spans of Vanilla Ice, Hammer, Tupac and Biggie combined, don’t add up to the years Run DMC has been pumping out original rhymes.

“The thing that’s going to remain forever is the DJ scratching records while the M.C. rocks the mic — and that’s what we stand for and that’s what we want to keep alive,” McDaniels says. “We don’t want the whole idea of the DJ and the rapper and the crowd and scratching and mixing records and breakdancing and graffiti to get lost.”

Run DMC has always been a trend-setter in hip-hop wonderland. In fashion alone, Run DMC has had more of an effect on society than any group in rap.

“King Of Rock” introduced thick gold chains to the B-boy world, while “Raising Hell” brought Adidas to the forefront of the sneaker industry. This summer, McDaniels and his cohorts explored an entirely new domain with a hip-hop endorsement for Gap.

“When Gap came up with the idea for the Original Blue Jeans, they wanted something that stood for original that’s still in existence today,” McDaniels says. “We was kinda flattered. Like, wow cool.”

Run DMC promises to be even more in existence in the year to come.

Profile Records was recently purchased by Arista, which will fund Run DMC in the studio in January before it hits the road for a few months with Aerosmith.

Then it’s back to New York to film a sequel to the early ’80s hit, “Krush Groove,” which introduced L.L. Cool J and the Beasties. McDaniels says the movie will chronicle what’s been happening in rap for the past 10 years and, like the prequel, will include several guest appearances by rap moguls.

As the century comes to an end, Run DMC will tour in support of its new release, which will most likely unite the group with Together Forever tourmates Mike D, MCA and King Ad Rock.

“We have a big, big, big respect for the Beasties,” McDaniels says. “We gotta tour with them. There’s nobody else we could tour with who would make a big impact historically or musically.”

Taking on the role of protectors of the flame, Run DMC hopes to educate the next generation of rap fans, who are being raised on Puffy and DMX rather than Run and DMC.

“Hopefully we can teach some of these younger guys it’s not just about the record deals, it’s not just about money and the car, it’s about being able to represent you — your originality and your creativity — constantly,” McDaniels says. “We’re not expecting to sell 10 million and 20 million albums every time we come out, but if we can sell some records for the next 50 years than we know we’ve built a foundation for this music.”

Run DMC will bring its foundation to Des Moines for the first time Wednesday at Supertoad at 7:30 p.m.

“You’re gonna see hip-hop the way it was done in Hollis, Queens in 1979,” McDaniels declares. “The real deal. No DAT machines, no pre-recorded tapes, no wardrobes, no gimmicks and no gadgets.”

Run DMC.

The real deal.