Archives 
Revolutions Archives for June 2003
SNOOP DOGG - PAID THA COST TO BE DA BO$$ (Priority)
“I ain’t takin’ orders no more. It’s my house and I live in it,” Snoop Dogg proclaims on his new album, Paid tha Cost to Be da Bo$$. Throughout his career, it’s true, Snoop’s success has been tied to any number of big dogs (Dr. Dre, Suge Knight, and Master P). But after steadily dropping smashes during a decade in the game, Snoop shouldn’t have to take orders; now 30, he has proven to be one of hip hop’s most resilient superstars. In fact, it would be easy for him to coast, so it’s exciting that Paid finds Snoop experimenting with new producers and sounds deep into his career. Still, the album’s most compelling moments recall the Doggfather’s early days. Through a good part of the album, Snoop diverges from G-funk (though “Stoplight” and “Boss Playa” wheel out dependable George Clinton samples). Instead, Paid explores some surprisingly earthy grooves, with Hi-Tek and DJ Premier contributing the most significant set pieces. Tek brings “I Believe in You,” an off-kilter groove with brittle guitars reminiscent of his 2001 boho ditty “Round and Round,” featuring Jonell. Even the album’s mainstream hitmakers sound more innovative than radio friendly. Just Blaze is on a bongo-fied-beatnik tip with congas, flute, and wahwah for “Lollipop.” The Neptunes’ two tracks come off less Nelly than N.E.R.D.:Paid’s first single, “From tha Chuuuch to da Palace,” reps like a heavy metal remix of “Murder Was the Case,” while “Beautiful” trips out on spacey retro keyboards. Lyrically, Snoop traverses ground both old and new. “Stoplight” has his usual pimps and hos patter, and on “From tha Chuuuch,” he’s still doing it for the Gs and the hustlers with a playful old-school delivery. But he also shows a romantic side on “I Believe in You,” declaring, “I couldn’t give you away no matter what my friends sizz-ay.” He even gets a bit reflective on “I Miss That Bitch,” where he compares giving up weed to the loss of a lover. For the most part, this is a kinder, gentler, less misogynistic Snoop, who’s more about good clean fun than “Ain’t No Fun.” His wordplay is still as nimble and quick as ever, giving the beats a beat down with newfound urgency. Maybe it’s because he quit smoking trees, or maybe he’s just trying to keep up with his guests, who deliver some of their most potent rhymes: Eastsidaz’ Goldie Loc kicks it like classic Big Daddy Kane on “Hourglass”; Ludacris disturbs the peace nicely on “You Got What I Want”; and when Jay-Z laces “Lollipop” with a typically volcanic verse, it’s thrilling to hear two of rap’s greatest flows in such close proximity. But the album’s most exciting track, “Pimp Slapped,” is all Snoop. A longtime Crip, he bigs-up the Bloods—even naming specific riders to show how he has risen above color lines. And while he does have battle words for Xzibit and Kurupt, Snoop reserves a special bitch slap for Knight: “I fucked all your groupies when you was doin’ time in Camp Snoopy / With the fags and snitches / No killers, just bitches, and you was payin’ niggas off with all my riches…. You’re not able to compete with the heat that I drop / And I still ain’t been paid for 187 on a cop.” It’s a telling climax to the album. Though Snoop is boldly trying to diversify his game, “Pimp Slapped” proves there’s nothing better than when he calls the shots straight-up Cali style.... (read more)
Blu Cantrell - Bittersweet (Arista)
Fellas, don’t mess with Blu Cantrell. She hit pay dirt on her first single, “Hit ’Em Up Style (Oops!),” advising jilted ladies to clean out their trifling men’s pocketbooks. That sassy persona returns on her sophomore album, Bittersweet, with brazen tunes like “I Did That” and “Unhappy” matching her brassy, supple alto. Though her voice lacks distinctive personality, she bowls you over with jazzy vocal licks and a pyrotechnical intensity that’s pure Holiness church. But Cantrell can’t seem to decide if she wants to be a dance diva or a torch siren. Club tracks like “Make Me Wanna Scream” are propelled by erotically charged dancehall and Latin rhythms, but they seem generic compared to her stunning ballads. “Sleep in da Middle” is an immaculately crafted slow jam that showcases every inch of Cantrell’s formidable voice. It’s buoyed by a moving lyric of independence: “I’d rather sleep in the middle / Alone and not hurting over you / That’s better than sleeping on my side / Crying at night / Silently watching you sleep.” Instead of maxing out her man’s credit cards, it sounds like she’s on her way to real liberation.... (read more)
B.G. - LIVIN' LEGEND (KOCH/CHOPPER CITY)
Four years ago, you couldn’t imagine Cash Money records without B.G. He preceded Juvenile as the label’s solo star, coining the Webster’s-worthy nugget “bling bling,” but still managed to balance the crew’s gaudy escapism with a coldly fatalistic ’hood perspective. Since then, however, B.G. has joined Juvie on the ex-CMM conga line. Still, you can’t take the hot out of the boy, and Livin’ Legend revisits familiar B.G. territory. But half a decade past the New Orleans sound’s heyday, Legend’s Crescent City–thug vibe barely caresses the upper reaches of the crunk-o-meter. Producer Kidd’s N.O.-style beats are solid though dated (think Monsieur Fresh circa ’98). That’s not to say that there aren’t moments. Tracks like “Shoot ’Em Up & Bang Bang” and the bonus disc’s “Bling Bling Slim” highlight the slurred, eerily detached menace that propelled much of 1999’s Chopper City in the Ghetto. Problem is, B.G. hasn’t gone anywhere since then. He’s still calling out rivals, flaunting an itchy trigger finger, and flossin’ for the hood rats. Judging from this release, B.G.’s legend could use some revision.... (read more)
FREEWAY - PHILADELPHIA FREEWAY (ROC-A-FELLA)
You either love the voice or you hate it. After stealing the show on Jay-Z’s “1-900-Hustler,” Freeway’s unorthodox flow captured attention—both positive and negative. Now, traveling a path similar to Beanie Sigel’s, Freeway’s debut delivers an abrasive, un-flinching look at life in North Philly. On the radio hit “What We Do,” Freeway cleverly illustrates how desperate times call for desperate measures. Over Just Blaze’s undulating bass line, he warns with ain’t-no-joke intensity, “If the heat stop working then my heat start working / I’ma rob me a person.” That same passion makes the album’s highlight, “Goodbye,” so poignant. Atop a soulful piano loop, Freeway shares a cleverly constructed break-up letter aimed at his “real true love”—the block. On the lighter side of things, Snoop pimp strolls over the Just Blaze club track “We Get Around,” while 7 guarantees radio play with the bouncy, cowbell-driven “Roll With Me.” The only bump in the road is “You Got Me,” a chemistry-devoid collaboration with Mariah Carey. But overall, Philadelphia Freeway creates an open lane—and zooms past the competition.... (read more)
Baby - Birdman (Cash Money/Universal)
With Juvenile and B.G. gone, the Cash Money roster is conspicuously thinner—there’s 20-year-old Lil Wayne; producer turned rapper Mannie Fresh; R&B veteran Teena Marie; and Baby, a co-CEO with a predilection for ostentation not seen since Puffy circa 1998. Adopting the moniker Birdman—“I fly in any weather,” he says—Baby wants to prove that Cash Money rolls on, regardless of whose name is on the records. Ambition isn’t everything, though. Cash Money used to score with the biggest bounce south of the Mason-Dixon, but Mannie Fresh has lost a couple of steps; in recent years, he’s been eclipsed by the Neptunes (who contribute the sinister “What Happened to That Boy” on this CD). Sure, he brings punishing electro synths and hollow drums on “Say It Ain’t So,” but all the neck-snapping, homegrown production in the world can’t redeem Baby, who flows like a car stuck in neutral. His materialistic rhymes may be gaudy, but they’re not complex, and entire songs devoted to ice (“Do That”) and rims (“Keeps Spinnin’”) lose their luster fast. Baby should take this broken bling and learn to fly again.... (read more)
TLC - 3D (Arista)
“You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone,” Joni Mitchell once sang. With Lisa “Left Eye” Lopes, though, fans did know. So it’s no surprise that her absence mars all but five tracks on 3-D, TLC’s first album since unstable molecule in a chemical compound, she added a sense of imbalance to the trio’s bright, energetic sound, and that tension is what made the whole more interesting than its parts. While the CD is consistently well-produced and performed, the material recorded before Lopes’s death, like “Girl Talk,” is simply darker, sexier, and angrier. That song is written in a minor key, as is most of 3-D, but it’s Left Eye’s contribution that makes the track seethe. Against a tangle of voices and violins bristling with menace, Lopes’s rap burns a hole in the song’s center. Similarly, on “Quickie,” Lopes unleashes a staccato stream of words, joking about something she calls “the Left pimp dance,” as producer Dallas Austin injects a burst of rhythmic chaos. The result is a playful and madly funky sonic bum-rush. The lyrics are about premature ejaculation, and the song’s riotous girl power is bracing enough to make most men wilt. The Lisa-less tracks—which feature Tionne “T-Boz” Watkins and Rozonda “Chilli” Thomas—seem competent, but unremarkable. One exception is “Dirty Dirty,” an adventure in pastiche produced by Timbaland. True to Tim’s genre-smashing innovations, the beat is half jungle, a quarter hip hop, and a quarter special sauce, evoking a house party in full swing. But in the spot where Lopes would normally spit her verses, T-Boz shouts, “Left Eye gets a moment of silence.” For a couple of beats there is complete quiet, and that’s when you really start to miss her. An even more overt eulogy is “Turntable,” which verges on mawkishness and sets platitudes (“You had your ups and downs / It happened for a reason”) to a lush, hard-driving pop rhythm. The track commemorates Left Eye in the wrong way: For better or worse, nothing Lopes touched ever came off sounding quite so average. Most of the material recorded after Lopes’s death is by no means a bummer. There are plenty of lovely moments—from the clean, sharp vocal arrangements of “Good Love” to the gorgeous guitar lines Raphael Saadiq plays on “So So Dumb.” The Neptunes fatten their contribution, “In Your Arms Tonight,” with one of those beats that shudders, shivers, and stutters with such controlled intensity one can almost forgive the song’s mindless lyrics: “I just wanna have a good time in your arms tonight.” The ’Tunes use the kick and rim like ace jugglers, constantly shifting the song’s center of gravity and pushing the momentum forward. There’s nothing particularly wrong with these songs, and maybe that’s the problem. A good example is the Babyface-produced “Hands Up,” a film noir–like tale of romantic betrayal. There’s a confrontation inside an ATL club, replete with swarming hoochies and a cheating man caught red-handed. “Trying to shake that ass player, you don’t even dance—s’up with you?” T-Boz demands. When the song ends, we’re still waiting for Lopes’s piercing lines. Without her, the story is incomplete. And in her absence, her presence is everywhere.... (read more)
702 - Star (Motown)
Remember when R&B girl groups were less smiley and more about gum-smacking, kiss-my-ass attitude? Well, 702’s third effort is a sassy throwback. Star might have been garbage, given that the group—Kameelah Williams, and sisters Irish and LeMisha Grinstead—recently reformed after a three-year recording hiatus. Plus, the album lacks Missy Elliott, the force behind the trio’s spunkiest hits “Steelo” and “Where My Girls At?” But it manages to be a rare, pleasant surprise in today’s R&B world. Blame much of the set’s success on the beats, which are as tight and lean as a Kenyan runner. “Star” and “I Still Love You” thump with that distinctive Neptunes-produced bass. The retro “Feelings” is an 808-fueled jam worthy of ’80s outfits like Loose Ends. And “No Way” is a breezy, Caribbean-tinged number. Lyrically, the 702 sistas don’t have much to say. It’s all “Betcha she can’t rock you like me” and “He’s a ho.” But lead singer Williams—Faith Evans’s new protégée—makes everything sound sexy and streetwise with her fluid, yet controlled, croons. SWV and Total would be proud.... (read more)
Nas - God's Son (Columbia)
Stillmatic, released last year amid a flurry of controversy, was a triumph, redeeming Nas’s waning street credibility. But his latest, more mature album, God’s Son, goes further than the lyrical infighting and antiwar propaganda of Stillmatic, boldly exloring thems of nostalgia, redemption, retribution, and responsibility. With grim determination, Nas sets out to give the currently vacuous genre of hip hop a swift kick in the ass like it was his own manifest destiny. He’s definitely the right man for the job. Nas has always had a knack for coming up with ill song concepts, and this album is proof. Its crowning jewel is “Get Down,” a suspenseful rap story that traverses the violent streets of Queensbridge, the drug-addled South, and a tragic Crip funeral along Crenshaw Boulevard in L.A., delivered with the kind of artistry and skill that first made him famous in ’94. Nas settles old scores on “Last Real Nigga Alive,” on which he reveals juicy details about his unforgettable ride in Puffy’s Range Rover before B.I.G.’s Ready to Die was released; being caught in the beef between Wu-Tang and Bad Boy; and perhaps most painfully, his feelings of betrayal when his daughter’s mother slept with Jay-Z. “The gift and the curse, fuck that shit, the first shall be last,” he spits, referencing Hov’s latest album. For “My Book of Rhymes,” Nas flips through the pages of his old notebooks, beginning to recite what sound like potentially amazing songs, only to dismiss them as immature scribblings. He’s disarmingly self-deprecating here, and gives us a rare look into his artistic process. His willingness to appear weak further cements his strength. The risks he takes with the production are a big part of the allure of God’s Son. In a time when a Neptunes beat is as essential as a savvy marketing plan, Nas goes in the other direction, giving producer Salaam Remi plenty of room. Remi waxes sentimental over hip hop’s Golden Era on songs like the breakbeat-infused “Made You Look” and the singsongy “I Can.” Nas entrusts Alicia Keys to produce a war cry of epic proportions and soaring vistas on “Warrior Song”; as she sings behind his seething lyrics, an African drum beat morphs into a marching-band drill. But is it a perfect album? Not quite. There are a few glaring blemishes, like the busy and dissonant “Zone Out,” which offers not enough Nas and too much of the talentless Bravehearts. “Hey Nas” features his rumored love interest, Kelis, and City High’s Claudette Ortiz. But even Kelis’s haunting, Vanity 6–like vocal quality can’t save the insipid hook. Then there are Nas’s old-fashioned requirements for wifey, like cooking well. “If I want Chinese, then go buy a wok / If I want barbecue / Call Professor and Ak” is a clever couplet that winks at his legendary debut on Main Source’s “Live at the Barbecue”—but it still doesn’t redeem the song. Some time in the late ’90s, Nasty Nas, as we once knew him, died—death by mediocrity and misdirection. Loyal fans who had received Illmatic as gospel were understandably disappointed by the blatant commercialism of his successive albums. Humiliated by his diminishing presence on urban radio, BET, and MTV; burning with a sense of righteous indignation; and fueled by the loss of his mother to breast cancer last year, Nasir Jones, the great lyricist, was roused to battle—resurrected, not surprisingly, by death.... (read more)
GINUWINE - The Senior (Epic)
Let’s just get this out in the open: It’s unfair—but necessary—to compare Ginuwine to R. Kelly. Like Kelly, Ginuwine loves to perform overheated ballads and midtempo grooves soaked in sexual innuendo. And both artists owe much to soul stirrers like Otis Redding, Al Green, and Sam Cooke. But the recent release of R. Kelly’s Chocolate Factory, his most soulful album to date, makes him the king of modern R&B. So now, amidst all the would-be R&B superstars, Ginuwine is struggling for second place. To that end, his fourth album, The Senior, is a no-holds-barred attempt to secure his position. His voice has never been American Idol strong—he’s often relied on charm and abdominal muscles to lock down a place in the hearts (and fantasies) of fans. But The Senior’s producers—among them Troy Oliver (Jennifer Lopez) and Troy Taylor (B2K)—have experience working with artists whose slight voices aren’t always equipped to handle heavy scrutiny. When a note can’t be held for as long as it should, these pulsating tracks, layered with heavy instrumentation and seamless background vocals, take center stage with ease. While R. Kelly’s unapologetic thug persona resonates with the fellas, Ginuwine sticks to satin-sheet ballads and the grooves that give him the opportunity to show off his dance moves. This set boasts even more baby-making music than his previous efforts. But this time around there are no ill-advised remakes (like “When Doves Cry” and “She’s Out of My Life” from his first two albums, Ginuwine…The Bachelor and 100% Ginuwine, respectively). The album’s celebratory “Our First Born” is destined to be a go-to song for ghetto-fabulous baby showers this summer. Remember how open we were when K-Ci from Jodeci said, “So you’re having my baby / And it means so much to me…” on 1991’s “Forever My Lady”? It’s the same sentiment here. “Lockdown,” on the other hand, is an aural love letter from prison that winds up on the losing side of banality with lines like “How will I make it up in here / I will miss everything I have….” (You can just see the video, with a shirtless Ginuwine making collect calls to his girl.) His pleading and wailing also go overboard on “Better to Have Loved.” And as always, Ginuwine sweats through an unnecessary up-tempo track. Here, it’s the first single, “Hell Yeah,” a yawn-inducing ear splitter, featuring as guest rapper the ubiquitous Birdman, Baby. But Ginuwine fares better with sexy midtempo romps. On “Big Plans,” featuring Method Man, Ginuwine belts out a come-hither track with club-ready intensity. “In Those Jeans,” a catchy ditty paying homage to the female form, is another Ginuwine special. And on “Cheddar Bring,” which decries the pitfalls of fame and fortune, Troy Oliver’s subtle production combines stutter-step nuances and inventive vocal effects. Not much has changed for Ginuwine since his debut, The Bachelor. He’s still racing R. Kelly to see who can sing the ladies out of their panties first. While he can’t rightfully claim to be the king of this era’s R&B, he makes a case for the second slot by sticking to what works for him. With competition from artists like Jaheim, Usher, and Tyrese intensifying, Ginuwine is content to keep giving it straight to the women who pay his bills. And for those ladies, No. 2 will do just fine.... (read more)
KILLER MIKE - MONSTER (COLUMBIA)
Anything that comes out of the Dungeon Family starts off with a handicap, namely the temptation to compare it to Stankonia, Still Standing, and Aquemini. But that’s exactly the kind of uphill battle a hard-core soldier like Killer Mike relishes, one reason his debut album, Monster, runs over with rep-building bravado. The combination of Mike’s relentless, shrapnel-edged flow and the ever-inventive Dungeon production takes a sec to get used to (accustomed as we are to the more countrified flows of Boi, Dre, and Cee-Lo). But he’s not always combative: Mike rides tunes like the goofily catchy first single, “A.D.I.D.A.S.” and the brutal, waltz-time workout “Akshon (Yeah!)” with casual aplomb. Thematically, Killer Mike isn’t breaking any new ground—fellatio-giving groupies, hustlers, and Atlanta Falcons similes abound. “Scared Straight,” for example, is a cautionary tale straight out of the mid-’90s. But new topics are scarce in today’s rap world. Inventive styles and refreshing spins score the most points, and there are when Mike almost makes you believe he’s as bad as he says he is.... (read more)
JUNGLE BROTHERS - All That We Do (Jungle Brothers)
It’s hard to figure out who the Jungle Brothers’ audience is these days. Afrika and Mike G abandoned the Afro-positivity of their Native Tongues long ago. And since 2000’s V.I.P., they seem to be catering to pubescent ravers with a combination of party pop beats and easily digestible lyricism. There’s nothing wrong with kicking club jams, but a line like this (from “Candy”) will force even the most generous fans to look askance: “After a little hanky panky / We make the room smell stanky, frankly.” In a failed attempt to recreate the magic of their 1988 hit “I’ll House You,” the JBs reunite with producer and Brooklyn house pioneer Todd Terry for most of All That We Do. Ironically, one of the CD’s most conventional hip hop songs is its most satisfying—on “Something About Cha,” Mike and Afrika reminisce about past loves over a blaxploitation soul track. Elsewhere, the album roams ambitiously from the Southern bounce of “Let Me” to the rawked-out fuzz of “What’s the Five O?” but the results are uneven. Added up, All That We Do amounts to too much on the boards and not enough on the mike.... (read more)
Kelly Rowland - Simply Deep (Columbia)
For an R&B singer, a well-placed vocal cameo can change your life. Kelly Rowland—one-third of Destiny’s Child—altered her future with “Dilemma,” a collaboration with Nelly. This dreamy number hit No. 1 on the pop and R&B charts. And suddenly Rowland was seen as more than just Beyoncé’s sidekick. Simply Deep, Rowland’s solo debut, marks an attempt to further establish herself as a singular talent, but the effort is as misguided as the Nelly hookup was savvy. On most of the set, she sounds just like Beyoncé, but without the appealing cheerleader sass. And an abundance of cheesy folk/R&B numbers make Rowland come off like Brandy fronting as India.Arie. The dreadfully overwrought first single, “Stole,” even tries to get listeners to accept the woman who once waxed about big booties as a wisdom-spouting prophet. Girl, please! Rowland fares better on “Can’t Nobody,” a morsel of airy hip hop funk crafted by producer Rich Harrison (Amerie, Mary J. Blige). But while the tune offers her a good rump-wiggling groove, it can’t quite fill the need for an authentic identity.... (read more)
Chico Debarge - Free (Koch)
Chico DeBarge’s biggest hits have been frothy party joints like “Listen to Your Man.” But De-Barge never seemed completely comfortable as a mainstream artist. His stint in prison (1988–1994) gave his lyrics a brooding, existential quality, and his musical choices have since plumbed neo-soul’s moodiest depths. Now he has launched his own record label and released the aptly titled Free, a 13-track concept album that he wrote and produced. Perhaps too melancholic for urban radio, Free is an exercise in introspection. The lyrics may be standard relationship fare, but some of the musical arrangements are so beautifully threadbare they threaten to melt like snowflakes. On the album’s pensive title track, a lone acoustic guitar accompanies DeBarge’s slender tenor. “Smile” uses the Zen-like sound of water droplets as percussion, and the tune’s sophisticated chord changes recall Stevie Wonder at his prime. Indeed, Free is reminiscent of 1972’s Music of My Mind. And though DeBarge has yet to develop Stevie’s breadth of vision, with Free, he’s well on his way to higher ground.... (read more)
Mr. Lif: I, Phantom (Def Jux)
Mr. Lif is Boston’s best hope for hip hop glory since Gang Starr’s Guru left town. Lif plays the “educator with mega flavor,” spitting with a distinctively nasal voice on his righteous, if occasionally didactic, debut. With raw, cyber-crunk production from El-P and Insight, the rapper scatters autobiographical nuggets throughout imaginative tales of wage slaves going postal (“Live From the Plantation”) and planets in upheaval (“Earthcrusher”). Sly, studious, and battle-ready, Lif should boost the morale of fans still ruing the day Guru left.... (read more)
NAAM Brigade - Early In The Game (Artist Direct)
Balling or brawling against the odds is a Philly tradition—consider Dr. J, Allen Iverson, and Rocky. NAAM Brigade keeps the custom alive on its brash debut. On the title cut, NB and fellow Illadelphian Freeway exchange live lyrical ammo over a ballistic bass line. The NAAM also spits hot lead on “Gangsta,” and Juvenile guests on the undulating ode to ass “What You Doin’ Wit Dat.” The group’s monotonous thug themes wear thin, however, and patches of hollow, synthetic production slow things down. Still, NAAM Brigade shows promise—it may yet do the City of Brotherly Thugs proud.... (read more)
Jaheim - Still Ghetto (Warner Bros.)
As intense as a Sonny Liston sucker punch, Jaheim’s magnificent baritone blasts out of your speakers and knocks you to the ground. Though his sound is aggressive and masculine, there’s a disarming tenderness at its core. R&B may be churning out ruffneck Romeos by the pound, but none is likely to be more complex or intriguing than Jaheim. He had major pressure to come back strong after his debut album, Ghetto Love, spawned three consecutive hit singles (“Could It Be,” “Just in Case,” and “Anything”). His record label, Divine Mill, is now betting the bank on him, especially since their other acts, like Next and the chemistry-free duo Koffee Brown, seem to be in limbo. While the music industry continues to serve underbaked pop tarts like Ashanti, many eyes seem to be on golden-throated Jaheim. Still Ghetto deftly avoids the sophomore-album jinx. Jaheim’s voice alone—enriched by hard living and cigarettes—is a marvel of paradoxes. It is by turns vicious and cool, astringent and delicate, implacable and vulnerable. While his rusted timbre and swaggering machismo evoke Teddy Pendergrass, Jaheim’s exquisite phrasing and gentlemanly comportment are pure Luther Vandross. Female spirits haunt Jaheim’s sound, too. Like some of the great New Jersey soul singers who preceded him, such as Cissy Houston and Millie Jackson, Jaheim sings from the marrow and gristle, plumbing the emotional depths of R&B songs with hellfire intensity. The album has no booty-shaking club tracks or obligatory rap cameos—just stellar midtempo street jams like “Put That Woman First” and aching romantic ballads like “Long as I Live.” Jaheim pre-sents himself as a man yearning for a family, tired of running game, but also as an outlaw too restless to settle down. Though otherwise well mannered, he tosses around the word “nigga” more times than a Tarantino script. His song selection is also a study in jarring contrasts. “Everywhere I Am,” a loving tribute to his mother, who died before he became famous, is one of the most moving pop-soul performances in the post-Luther era. When Jaheim achingly cries out “Did you see me on Soul Train,” listeners will find his vulnerability irresistible. But in opposition to that poignant performance, Jaheim drops the offensively titled “Me and My Bitch.” In the absence of superior musical support, Jaheim mines the old school for samples. The first single, “Fabulous,” borrows the probing rhythm track from G&H’s pro-community “Wake Up Everybody” and adds a children’s chorus. It could very well become a post–9/11 ghetto anthem. Sampling the Fantastic Four’s “My Love Won’t Stop at Nothing,” “Diamond in da Ruff,” a toe-tapper about relationship drama, gives shout-outs to dysfunctional couples like Archie and Edith, Ike and Tina, and Whitney and Bobby. Since Jaheim’s rootsy voice seems like a holdover from the ’70s, these references bring warmth to the album. The tunes are hummable, SoundScanfriendly, and more addictive than a bucket of popcorn chicken.... (read more)
Jurassic 5 - Power In Numbers (Interscope)
Jurassic 5’s forward-thinking music is a soundtrack for the narrow middle ground between the multiculti fantasy and segre-gated reality of Los Angeles. Slammed for its optimism, J5 takes on all detractors on its second album. In the process, they get passionate enough to avoid a previous pitfall: seldom rising above good intentions to create genuinely inspired music. “We humble but don’t mistake us for some corny-ass crew / What we do is try to give you what you ain’t used to,” they rap defiantly on “If You Only Knew.” The outfit’s signature sing-along hooks are intact, and their newly acidic lyrics ride over their trademark, soulfully propulsive beats. But Power in Numbers is colored by a spiritual ache that transcends anything J5 has done before. Defensiveness about their rep and anger at the pressures of racism, poverty, and institutional injustice (“My forefathers hung in trees to be free / Got rid of slavery but still kept the penitentiary,” raps Akil on the ironically titled cut “Freedom”) eat at them throughout the new disc, and they’re better artists for it. Believe the hype.... (read more)
Pastor Troy - Universal Soilder (Universal)
In the South, where folks often walk straight off the corner into the congregation, people expect rap to touch on the sacred as well as the profane, though it handles the latter much more convincingly than the former. Pastor Troy flips this equation. On his uneven but occasionally stirring new release, the ATL crunkmeister is at his best when dropping lyrics about the rapture, although he spends most of his time preaching about Rémy, dubs, and booty claps. Troy's trademark bare-knuckled delivery shines when bolstered by guest producers like Lil Jon ("If They Kill Me") and Jazze Pha ("You Can't Pimp Me"). Über boardman Timbaland contributes the album’s two tightest tracks—the sinus-clearing “Are We Cuttin’” and the nasty "Tell 'Em It's On." Elsewhere, Troy, whose father is a minister and ex–Army drill sergeant, returns to his roots with good results: "Bless America" is a blusteringly patriotic antiterrorism broadside worthy of the WWF. And the metallic "When He Comes" mixes visions of Christ with AK-47 fire, giving the impression that Troy is a conflicted soul. If only he bared it more often.... (read more)
3LW - A Girl Can Mack (EPIC)
Most of the songs on 3LW ’s new album are built on slickly produced, beat-heavy, bass-driven grooves that fit snugly around the trio’s breathy harmonies; the disc is crammed with radio-friendly singles. But there isn’t much to distinguish 3LW from other hip-pop savvy singing groups. Their recent public scuffles (the alleged ousting of Naturi) pack more intrigue than their music. Producers from the iconic (P. Diddy) to hungry young bloods (Steve Estiverne, Jack Knight) contribute tracks tailor-made to be bumped in clubs. Highlights include the effervescent “Ghetto Lovin’ Heartbreak,” a taut updating of classic girl-group sass, and “Never Get Enough,” which deftly uses an old Teddy Pendergrass sample to create a ’70s soul vibe. A couple of PG-13 ballads serve to inform listeners that the group no longer consists of the same little girls who burst onto the scene two years ago. Indeed, the ladies’ nasal vocals make them sound both innocent and sexually precocious. Their macking skills may be on point, but these young divas are definitely still in training.... (read more)
Tank - One Man (Blackground)
Don’t hate Tank because he’s got the face of an S-Curl model and the body of Vin Diesel. Beneath the beefcake, he’s an accomplished songwriter/producer whose tunes have been recorded by Aaliyah and Dave Hollister. Tank’s sophomore album, One Man, however, is only a ser-viceable contribution to the burgeoning genre of Ruffneck Soul. Too many tunes—like “Cake and Ice Cream,” a long-winded, love-triangle ditty—suffer from a pedestrian mix of strings, melodramatic chord progressions, and low-intensity hip hop beats. The LP does receive a jolt of adrenaline on “No One But Me,” on which producer Rodney Jerkins pulls out all the synth stops; the cacophonous result is the most deliriously funky track on the album. If his baritone remains indistinguishable, Tank’s most valuable asset is still a self-effacing humility that borders on mas-ochism. It helped him score his first hit single, 2001’s “Maybe I Deserve,” and returns here. On the infectious title track, Tank confesses to his lady, “I’m only one man doing what I can.” True, but what a man.... (read more)
Talib Kweli - Quality (Rawkus)
Love is the least popular four-letter word in hip hop, but like the nice guy at the prom, Talib Kweli slow-dances with it anyway. On his luminous solo debut, Kweli makes it clear that he cares about his music, his family, and his community. But his love isn’t sappy sentiment—it’s the spark that ignites the struggle for social justice. Taut with righteous indignation—from the electric-guitar-charged “Gun Music,” featuring the Cocoa Brovaz, to Kanye West’s three soul-sampling, wallop-packing tracks—Quality’s rugged beats are more incensed than incense burning. Kweli’s flow is also potent, all winking wordplay, compelling imagery, limber cadences, and passion. On “Stand to the Side,” Vinia Mojica offers the album’s manifesto: “If you fight to the death, what’s left to fight?” But the record isn’t humorless: Dave Chappelle’s hyperbolic intro is hilarious, and on the DJ Quik–produced “Put It in the Air,” the pioneer’s knee-jerk misogyny provides unintentional comic relief. Quality brims with hope, too: "On "Joy," Kweli Rhapsodizes about the births of his two children. This is heart-core.... (read more)
Thievery Corporation - The Richest Man In Babylon (ESL Music)
Eighteenth Street Lounge is not just the name of Thievery Corporation’s club and record label. It’s a state of mind, like the candlelit bar that the producer-DJ duo co-owns in Washington, D.C. There, it’s always 1958: The exotic strains of Les Baxter’s Caribbean Moonlight waft from the speakers, the house band wears sharkskin suits, and drinks come spiked with colorful paper umbrellas. This lounge sensibility extends to the duo’s releases. Last year’s compilation Sounds From the Verve Hi-Fi salvaged cocktail-jazz relics by the likes of Astrud Gilberto and Sergio Mendes. And on their third full-length album, Eric Hilton and Rob Garza revive even more sounds long ago declared unfashionable: sitar-tinged bachelor-pad tunes from the ’60s (“Facing East”) and smoky Parisian torch songs (“Un Simple Histoire”). Even when they dip into lightweight reggae territory on the title track, the results hang together surprisingly well. In their world of high hepcat camp, Thievery Corporation can steal your ears and hold them hostage.... (read more)
Slum Village - Trinity (Capitol)
Profound lyricism has never been Slum Village’s strong suit—Jay Dee’s mellifluous hip hop beats were always the group’s ace in the hole. While no longer a formal SV member, the stellar producer contributes three in-novative tracks to their latest album, upholding the rhythmic quality of their previous work. Other producers help maintain Trinity’s low-lit vibe, among them DJ Hi-Tek, Scott Storch, and jazz musician Kareem Riggins, who accents a harmonious R&B chorus with sharp keyboard textures on the standout track “Tainted.”... (read more)
Clipse - Lord Willin' (Star Trak/Arista)
The Neptunes–produced debut from Virginia roughnecks (and real-life brothers) Pusha T and Malice is a testament to the production duo’s knack for making decent rappers sound good and good rappers sound great. While the Clipse aren’t lyrical slouches, their bragfests aren’t exactly revolutionary. Still, their solid, swerving cadences sound downright brilliant on the stripped-down stomp of “Grindin’” and the horn-driven “Young Boy.” On “When the Last Time,” the girl-crazy Pusha T asks himself, “What did it, the whip appeal or my baby face?” It was probably the slamming beats.... (read more)
Scarface - The Fix (Universal)
Someone once said that the rap game reminded him of the crack game. Though it’s a facile comparison, there’s no question that many hip hop fans, plagued by redundant subject matter and recycled phrases, are fiending for substance like Robert Downey Jr. in a locked hotel room. It’s only appropriate, then, that Scarface, the original street pharmacist, step up with The Fix, his best album in almost a decade. Though his 15-year career has been solid, with classics like the Geto Boys’ We Can’t Be Stopped and his solo confession, The Diary, Scarface saw his sales plateau early—even as rap’s market share grew. As the saying goes, If you’re not moving forward, then you’re falling back. The OG sought to remedy the situation in 2000 with Last of a Dying Breed, a diverse effort that abandoned ’Face’s signature Houston G-Funk for a more universal sound, featuring MCs from outside the Fifth Ward like Redman and Jay-Z. Despite good intentions, the LP’s underwhelming production and lack of standout cuts kept ’Face from catapulting into the mainstream. Now he’s aiming to change all of that. On songs like “Sell Out,” ‘Face proves he can run with today’s best, firing off polysyllabic rhymes with the nonchalance of Jadakiss and the subtle depth of Nas: “I been in fist fights with niggas twice my size / My record stands at 27 and 5 / …Say what you want, I don’t care who’s real / I survived the game of life, nigga / Fuck some skills.” He has finally broken free of his patented pendulum flow, heightening the emphasis on the last words of each line. Thematically, though, ’Face more or less sticks to the script his listeners have come to expect: The streets are coldhearted and your best friend will stab you in the back over a dime piece, a dime bag, or even just two nickels, so surrender yourself to spirituality and find peace. But like a truly great MC, Scarface finds new ways to address the same old problems; on the Neptunes–produced slow jam “Someday,” for example, he coaches volatile young bucks: “I was touched by the spirit / So I had to write it down so the homies could hear it.” But rhymes alone do not make an album, and it is Scarface’s superb selection of soulful, bass-heavy beats that propels The Fix along. Chicago native and Blueprint alumnus Kanye West once again proves to be an able vinyl reanimator, offering up sweet organ samples on the Jay-Z and Beanie Sigel collaboration “Guess Who’s Back,” as well as glassy xylophone accents and an abrasive, funky drum break on “In Cold Blood.” And yet, the cement that holds the LP together is not the big-name beatmakers; it’s the markedly improved production of Mike Dean and Scarface himself. Experimenting with creative arrangements on songs like the intense Nas collaboration “In Between Us,” the two deftly defy the current formula for 16-bar verses and 8-bar choruses. As a genre, gangsta rap has had an incredibly hard time growing up; most of its artists run out of new things to say shortly after the release of their first album. But with The Fix, Scarface makes a compelling argument that gangstas can, in fact, mature. More importantly, they can use that hard-won wisdom and experience to create some of the best music of their lives.... (read more)
Keith Sweat - Rebirth (ELEKTRA)
His eighth solo CD, Rebirth, the 41-year-old Sweat has no plans to retire from a scene densely populated by R&B crooners-in-training. Rebirth probably won’t win Sweat any new fans, but he certainly won’t lose any. Despite a reliance on talk boxes and synth strings, and predictable references to two-ways and the number 69, the album has few missteps. The high-water mark is “I Want You,” a ridiculously funky tune peppered with whistles, rims, and bursts of ’70s-style horns. Scorching boudoir ballads like “One on One” and “Trust Me” also excel. These slow jams seem to unravel... (read more)
Linkin Park - Reanimation (Warner Bros.)
It’s a fact: Linkin Park has more selling power now than P. Diddy and Jay-Z combined. But instead of inviting megastars to collaborate on their hip hop–spiked projects, Linkin Park recruits underground heroes. In 2001, they gave the X-ecutioners a career boost by guesting on their album Built From Scratch. And on this collection of new material and remakes of cuts from their Grammy-winning, eight-time platinum debut, Hybrid Theory, Linkin Park shares the spotlight with lesser-known luminaries like Aceyalone and Planet Asia. Their hired guns are a talented bunch, but Linkin Park more than holds its own. On the bass-heavy “H! Vltg3,” featuring Pharoahe Monch, Linkin’s Mike Shinoda is surprisingly on par with one of rap’s most articulate MCs. The bulk of the production here comes from hip hop beatsmiths like Alchemist, Kutmasta Kurt, and Dilated Peoples’ Evidence, and the album rarely strays from rap-rock formula. Still, Reanimation’s cross-pollination of high-level lyricism, trunk-rattling beats, heavy-metal riffs, and hard-core vocals makes for a rousing listening experience.... (read more)
Dave Hollister - Things In The Game Done Changed (Motown)
Dave Hollister isn’t just another thug crooner—his talents defy classification. But stylistically he stands between the new jack sheen of Jodeci and Al B. Sure and the earthiness of D’Angelo and Musiq. What sets Hollister apart from middle-ground contemporaries such as Carl Thomas and Donell Jones are his sonorous, gospel-tinged voice and the gritty realism that frequently emerges in his lyrics. Knowing that his God-given singing ability and his tumultuous relationship history ... (read more)
Trick Daddy - Thug Holiday (Atlantic)
Trick Daddy is a gold-grillin’, neck-bone-eatin’, Down South thug. And you love it. But he’s also more than that. On his fifth LP in five years, Trick continues to mine Tupac’s legacy by adding social commentary to his mix of sex, drugs, and tough talk. He also gets by with a little help from his friends—Scarface, Big Boi, and Cee-Lo all make appearances, with the latter two blessing the record’s standout single, the Jazze Pha–produced, acoustic guitar–driven “In da Wind.” Thug Holiday impresses most when Trick Daddy takes a cue from ’Pac and wears his heart on his sleeve. Tracks like “Ain’t No Santa” and “Rain It Pours” show Trick reaching beyond clichés 1 to criticize the exploitation of the poor. He also offers musings on 9/11 throughout the LP, dropping raps like “Muslims, Jews, and Christians should know that we’re all God’s children” over the somber piano keys of the title track. Unfortunately, Holiday’s emotional momentum is sabotaged by haphazard sequencing and filler. Still, if you thought Trick Daddy Dollars was just about thuggin’, you don’t know nann.... (read more)
Beenie Man - Tropical Storm (Virgin)
It’s been a tough run for Beenie Man, the Jamaican hitmaker once expected to fill Bob Marley’s kicks. Bounty Killer questioned his Yard-core bonafides. And while Beenie sold gold and brought home a Grammy, Shaggy went interstellar. Luckily for Beenie, the ragga vibe has become bleeding-edge global pop. On his latest, tracks from Irv Gotti (“Real Gangsta”), Tony Kelly (“Miss L.A.P.”), and U.K. garage ruffnecks So Solid Crew (“Yagga Yow”) flow seamlessly into each other. When Lil’ Kim spits classic dancehall lines on DJ Clue’s “Fresh From Yard,” she makes it sound like Jamaica is giving hip hop a face-lift, rather than the other way around. Tropical Storm’s money shot is “Feel It Boy,” a duet with Janet Jackson. Despite the Neptunes’ upbeat production, Beenie sings like a man whose guilty conscience takes over after “It Wasn’t Me.” Storm’s one weakness is that it wants a happy ending so badly, it barely captures Beenie’s soul. The exception is “Street Life,” a you-and-me-against-the-world track in the great tradition of "No Woman, No Cry." In this bright future, he can't forget his past.... (read more)
3rd Storee - Get With Me (Def Soul)
When the boy-band equation adds up correctly, young love and R&B can combine to create music as memorable as initials scrawled in wet cement. But though a few tracks from 3rd Storee’s debut are worthy background music for hushed late-night phone calls, don’t look to Get With Me for jams to dedicate to your sweetie on the radio. Little shorties may swoon for the syrupy ballad “I’m Sorry,” but more than a spoonful, and the saccharine loses its appeal. Their voices are easy on the ears, but the underdeveloped lyrics (“We in that ‘drop-top with a hot spot where the girls stop to watch us’ type of mood”) stunt this group’s potential. Most satisfying are the Rodney Jerkins–arranged “Get With Me,” an energetic track with a nicely layered hook, and producer PAJAM’s harmonious ballad “Now I Can Breathe.” Nokio lends tight but predictable party-anthem production to “Clap Your Hands” and “Superstar,” but on both, the choruses are more irritating than infectious. Even if you’re a sucker for sweet faces, mindless melodies, and polished production, this album is less than the sum of its parts.... (read more)
Too Short - What's My Favorite Word? (JIVE)
"These young girls love my game so much, should I stop? I’m old enough to be her pops!” shouts Too $hort on What’s My Favorite Word? It’s his finest effort since he came out of retirement in the mid-’90s. And from the sound of this album, the Bay Area legend is more interested in playing mack daddy than father figure. Delivering raw-like-sushi raps over spare, funky tracks, Too $hort’s steez remains the same. Thankfully, little twists keep the familiar themes fresh. There’s the offhand humility of “That’s Right”: “If it was a Happy Meal or a half a mil / It’s the same thing baby / That’s real.” On “She Loves Her,” sisters indulge in a little self-pleasure, as oohs ac-cent a slow-rolling beat. “Call It Gangster,” with its 808 clap and spooky synths, sounds like an old-school Whodini joint. “The Movie” is the album’s highlight, with salacious psychobabble from George Clinton and a crazy chorus: “I’m testing positive for the funk / I’d gladly pee in anybody’s cup.” As Too $hort declares, “Whether you’re an R&B diva or a skeezer,” he’s still more than willing to freak it.... (read more)
Onyx - Bacdafucup: Part 2 (Koch/In The Paint)
Was it the three seasons Fredro Starr put in on Moesha? Or the ass-whupping Sticky Fingaz caught from skater Simon Woodstock on MTV? Either way, something dulled the edge of hard-core baldies Onyx. After a four-year hiatus, the Queens trio has made a lukewarm attempt to recapture its ’93 debut’s grimy glory with Bacdafucup: Part 2. Their testosterone-fueled delivery kicks things off on the aptly titled “Welcome Back,” complete with a cleverly chopped sample of the theme song from the sitcom Welcome Back, Kotter. By the time the staccato drums of “What Is Onyx” pound in, it looks like they’ve got their swagger back. But it doesn’t last. Onyx’s plan to “blow up again like WTC,” as Sticky so tastefully puts it, is foiled by characterless Casio funk and trite lyrical onslaughts. The album’s most ambitious cut, “Gun Clap Music,” on which Onyx modifies verses from fallen hip hop soldiers to fit its own agenda, loses bite to bland production. And the cartoonish swing of “Stuckup Kids” further proves that Onyx has devolved from a catalyst of the hard-core to a caricature of it.... (read more)
Various Artists - Loud: The Early Daze (Loud)
Back when army jackets were the norm and New York rap gods were mangling the mike, Loud Records was the stable with the most thoroughbreds. Loud: The Early Daze provides a slew of the finest early to mid-’90s rough-cut gems from the label, which is currently on hiatus. From Mobb Deep’s punk- menacing “Shook Ones Pt. II” to Raekwon’s honey-dripping “Ice Cream,” The Early Daze is a worthy retrospective of hip hop’s gritty renaissance. Even though Loud’s signature headphones are silent, this set proves that its classics can still make your ears ring.... (read more)
Lil' Romeo - Game Time (New No Limit)
“I don’t wanna grow up, I’m a kid,” chirps Lil’ Romeo on “Wanna Grow Up,” from his solid sophomore release. And it’s true: Compared to the less and less “little” Lil’ Bow Wow, who appears anxious to reach older fans (and older females), 12-year-old Lil’ Romeo seems content to stay young for a while. His prepubescent innocence can be refreshing, as in the bouncy “Throw ’Em Up,” where he declares “I’m too young to be lovey-dovey / I’m still my mama’s baby.” Game Time is unabashedly derivative, with straight jacks of “It Takes Two” (“2 Way”), “I Got It Made” (“Richie Rich”), and “It’s the Hard-Knock Life” (“We Can Make It Right”), but the recycled songs work because of Romeo’s charm and playful enthusiasm. Unlike the affected nonchalance in Bow Wow’s delivery, there’s no mistaking the youth in Romeo’s high-pitched voice and straightforward flow. The lyrics (cowritten by his daddy, Master P) include obligatory references to ice and gratuitous label shout-outs, but Romeo also extols the virtues of education and hard work. Here’s a real star pupil.... (read more)
Boyz II Men - Full Circle (Arista)
Is there a place for Boyz II Men in today’s crowded urban marketplace? There is. They may not have washboard abs or platinum fronts to flash, but their carefully crafted harmonized vocals continue to command attention. Full Circle, their sixth album, is the most confident of their illustrious career. Although the CD breaks no new musical ground, it’s buoyed by A-list production from a diverse range of talent. On the wistful ballad “Oh Well,” Boyz’ tender falsettos drift weightlessly across Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis’s elegant keyboard and string arrangement. “The Color of Love,” written and produced by longtime collaborator Babyface, is a surging flashback to a time when R&B songs had dramatic chord structures, acoustic instrumentation, and heartfelt melodies. On the effervescent “Howz About It,” by new-school producer Edmund “Eddie Hustle” Clement (who also wrote Usher’s “U Remind Me”), Boyz invite their prospective lovers to “fly away” on their private jet. They might have outgrown their boy-next-door status, but they still know how to treat the ladies.... (read more)
Various Artists - D&D Project II (D&D)
One of New York’s holiest hip hop sites, D&D Studios, has been flirting with cutting its own records since producing the first D&D Project in 1995, a compilation that paired unsigned rookies with all-stars like KRS-One and Jeru the Damaja. D&D Project II isn’t about unlikely collaborations, however—it’s a vehicle for D&D Records’ new roster: Craig-G, Jack Venom, QNC, Afu-Ra, and Krumb Snatcha, with re-spected producers like the Alchemist and Da Beatminerz on deck. “This is for the whole world to hear,” proclaims Craig-G on the playful party cut “Say What Ya Want.” But while Krumb Snatcha’s “What’s Life” hits hard, many of these contenders need to get their weight up. Cuts like Jack Venom’s “Itz Nuttin” and Buddhakai’s “When It Comes to a War” are beige bland. Thankfully, the marquee artists score with “Hot Shit,” a Beatminerz-produced zinger, featuring Big Daddy Kane, Guru, and Sadat X, with an infectious hook supplied by Greg Nice. D&D’s upstart MCs aren’t quite ready for prime time; it’s the vets who keep D&D Project II in competition.... (read more)
AZ- Aziatic (Motown)
AZ never breaks a sweat. A street-level aristocrat who’s got it made, he’s content to churn out predictable, innocuous albums as if rhyming were just a part-time gig. Aziatic is no exception. Certainly, AZ has the kind of breath control admired in corner ciphers, but an album demands risks, charisma, and originality—not just a nice flow.... (read more)
Oasis - Heathen Chemistry (EPIC)
Since the 2000 release of Oasis’s last album, Standing on the Shoulder of Giants, brothers Noel and Liam Gallagher have lost all their original band members, watched their respective marriages fall apart, and teetered on the brink of dissolution. Thank God. If ever a band needed to be slapped out of its lazy stupor, it was Oasis. Heathen Chemistry, the British rock group’s fifth studio album, resurrects some of the power of its first, 1994’s seething Definitely Maybe. The new CD crackles with anger, energy, and defiance. Cuts like “The Hindu Times” and “Hung in a Bad Place” are three-and-a-half-minute blasts of melody and noise showing the mouthy, monobrowed siblings at their venomous best. “It’s all over town that the sun’s going down on the days of your easy life,” Noel sneers on the fang-baring “Force of Nature.” It’s a welcome change from the corpulent Giants, a largely shiftless pastiche of psychedel- ic riffing and sprawling arrangements. And while Chemistry is not a total return to ass-kicking form, the Gallaghers at least prove that when push comes to shove, they can still bring it on.... (read more)
Swizz Beatz - Swizz Beatz Presents GHETTO Stories (Dreamworks)
“Once upon a time in the projects….” It has been rapped about before, but with his solo debut, Bronx-born producer Swizz Beatz weighs in with his own ’hood memoir. He lays down his signature blend of thwacking snare shots and synth hooks, intertwined with his own capable but not profound rhymes and guest spots from A-list MCs. On the album’s first track, Swizz’s little brother TJ raps with confidence, if not panache, about getting through the week on $8. Lil’ Kim, on the other hand, has clearly left poverty behind; on “Gone Delirious,” her greedy rhymes are charming, but the track is marred by monotonous production. LL Cool J also sticks to familiar territory on “Ghetto Love,” on which Swizz deploys finger-picked guitar, sparse beats, and singer Mashonda’s sweet vocals to create an airy summer feel. The album-closing jolt, “We Did It Again,” is a less pleasant surprise: As Ja Rule rap-yells that he’s “a rock star, baby, born in the U.S.A.,” Metallica’s chugging guitar riffs hog all sonic space. It’s a not-so-fairy-tale ending for a hit-or-miss solo beginning.... (read more)
Eminem - The Eminem Show (AFTERMATH/INTERSCOPE)
Eminem is a controversy magnet. In the past, his raps have included violent fantasies of killing his wife (they’ve since split up) and not-very-flattering portraits of his mother (who responded with a multimillion-dollar libel suit). Marshall Mathers’s real-life antics have earned him further legal problems, including gun and assault charges. None of these are topics he shies away from on his third album, The Eminem Show, as he continues to obsess about his personal life and the public’s reaction to him. There is something thrilling about the way he digs into his wounds; it’s the aural equivalent of an episode of Cops. In other words, The Eminem Show is a brilliant piece of theater and a guilty pleasure. Eminem knows his every phrase will be scrutinized, yet he doesn’t seem to care. In the Dr. Dre–produced “Business,” accompanied by a fat, plastic-sounding beat that evokes an army of animated ants going to work, he refers to himself and Elton John as having “played career Russian roulette.” He’s talking about his duet with John at last year’s Grammys, which confounded critics who had accused Em of homophobia. Yet he waxes homophobic again in “Cleaning Out My Closet,” continuing to commodify his private dramas. The song begins as if it might offer a public reconciliation with his family, but soon Em calls his “faggot father” out for having his “panties in a bunch,” and then addresses his moms, calling her a “selfish bitch” and promising that his daughter won’t attend her funeral. “Without Me,” is a high-speed square dance on which Eminem plays peekaboo with his third mask as Slim Shady (he plays three-card monte with his identity). Shady’s a mean, crazy, hyperactive clown who comments on all the controversy his equally mean and crazy alter ego generates. This capacity to mix social commentary and self-parody and turn the whole thing into an amazing record is what makes Eminem so interesting. His guerrilla approach to reality means he never holds onto any one position long enough to have to defend it. That’s easier said than done; Eminem’s ability to hopscotch back and forth over the line between earnestness and sarcasm borders on genius. The album has a few drawbacks. Musically, it is almost a blank frame for Eminem’s lyrics, offering mostly sparse, stiff, fast-paced beats. One of the few exceptions, “Dream On,” built around the Aerosmith hit of the same name, has a killer hook, but in contrast, there is a vivid lack of melodic ideas in the rest of the songs. Lyrically, the album is exceptional on the whole, but there are momentary lapses. “Superman,” in which he turns his quick, cruel mind against women in general, is a failure; unlike his attacks on his mother, white America, and Dick Cheney, Em never establishes any reason for his grievances here. Obie Trice makes a cameo on “Drips,” a morality tale about STDs, but Em has already proven he’s too smart for the song’s frat-meets-the-projects idiocy. Like a man looking into a mirror while the world stares at him, Eminem uses his new album to strip himself naked and dissect his private life. Rhyming with electrifying rapidity, and thinking even faster, he has an unerring instinct for heading straight for our taboos. For some rappers, the boundary be-tween life and art is very thin. For Eminem, it’s the perfect place to pitch his tent and perform.... (read more)
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Speak Easy
I have to say I'm very excited to see what the good folks at Black Entertainment Television have in store for us with this year's BET Awards. With the (read more) -
RapidShare
7:51: We are coming to you live from an upper middle class neighborhood in South Brooklyn, ready to report on this momentous night. 106 & Park's pre-s (read more) -
Invite Only
Sunday, June 7th--SUMMER JAM. After Jay-Z's "D.O.A" song dropped on Hot 97 on Saturday I became a bit more excited about my attendance. Great weathe (read more) -
RapidShare
Jay-Z: "D.O.A. (Death of Auto-Tune)" (Produced by No I.D. & Kanye West) from the forthcoming Blueprint 3 (Props to LowKey) It's hot, but it's bad (read more)
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