10 Years Later: Analyzing Every Song On Jay Z's 'Black Album'

“DEC 4” The Black Album’s first song––Jay’s Just Blaze-scored autobio––touched on a constant in the Shawn Carter narrative: the absence of his father. There isn’t a composition in the latter half of Jay-Z’s catalogue that doesn’t note the parental crater which devastated before affording misdirection––being the unsupervised youngest in a single-parent housing project home, young Young would duck poverty and survive the concrete jungle that his window faced by becoming an animal (specie: dope dealer). According to the God MC, he never pursued the life of a street pharmacist––drugs found, enticed, then hooked him. With twisted irony, the process of selling death and despair would introduce Jay to unhealthy emotional states (i.e. distrust, paranoia, emotional unavailability). Although, hiss estranged father passed some months before The Black Album’s release, it’s on this track where he first admits to finding peace with his absentee Pops (“Moment of Clarity” follows). 10 Years later… Jay hasn’t healed from growing up without his father and is beginning to realize that he may never. On “Jay-Z Blue,” off his latest album Magna Carter Holy Grail, he reminds us once more that his fall into the under world was encouraged by a father-less household (“Only hugged the block cause I thought my Daddy didn’t love me!”–“Jay-Z Blue”). But while the paranoia has remained from “Regrets” to “Dec 4” on, its effect has shifted. On the aforementioned MCHG track, the MC who once boasted of having “cashmere chromosomes” never sounded so nervous. He’s a father and husband whose realizing he possesses many of his Dad’s characteristics. His biggest fear now is that he actually becomes his father; that he brings the same hurt or, worse, absence to his family. Shawn Corey’s Dad never taught him how to be a father or how to treat a mother, so he’s learning on the fly. The stakes are at their highest for the Brooklyn gambler. More than ever before, he must own his classic slogan: I will not lose.

“CHANGE CLOTHES” You can catch Shawn between the crosshairs of new love and old habits. Despite being a stone’s throw away from an engagement with his beautiful Bey, the 33-year-old designed his first single to sell that he’s still got it; that he very much understands the importance of a woman’s bra and heel of choice; that he’s very familiar with fashion of the highest quality and price (ie. Vera Wang). In fact, he insisted that he was as fresh to death as he’s ever been. His fashion lines of choice then were Ralph Lauren (Purple Label) and Billionaires Boys Club (BBC). So there was zero reason that any woman should mistake him for anyone unsophisticated or unofficial. Hov was so confident that he’d sweat a lucky lady’s weave out into an afro-puff–––one which resembled those former Death Row rapper Lady of Rage wore––that he invited her to bring a friend along so the three could make…a Roc-A-Fella diamond. 10 Years later… Sir Carter has been married for five years to a wife he refers to on “Part II (On The Run)” as “perfect.” We all know his past isn’t pretty, but he reminds us that his lady is (we knew that too). Yet and still, when Hov’s out, them are hoes out with their weaves in. Why? Assumptions are because Jay’s not as fresh as he was ten years ago; he’s impressively fresher in his forties. More experimental with his fashion, the Rocawear owner loves rocking “weird clothes” as much as he does white tuxes––whether on set with Justin Timberlake or Vanity Fair. Exclusive street wear is still his preference, though (“Drug dealer chic”). He may occasionally sport a pair of Retro Jordan 1’s with a $100 plus Balmain tee, but best believe when it’s time to make the world look up at the scoreboard, he’s adorned in Tom Ford.

“THREAT” In full Brooklyn-mode, Jay-Z is at his most aggressive here. Though he wasn’t dealing with the same dire dilemmas as he dealt with as a Marcy resident, his frustrations were sharp enough to provoke him back to a pre-1996 Jay. Shawn Carter has relapsed post-’96 and he reminded us––the blade that went into Lance “Un” Rivera in 1999 could’ve easily found itself inside another violator four years later. In fact, he, like so many who have passed through the American judicial system, was fresh off of probation, not rehabilitated and fed up with repeated urine tests. Jay’s gripes were also current. The new C. Deloris Tucker aka Rapper Enemy #1 was the FOX network windbag Bill O’Reilly and he along with other critical forums were succeeding at getting under the Roc boss’s skin. He refused to let them make him appear crazy like Halle Berry or exposed like an earlier oft-scantily clad Christina Aguilera. He had no problem fighting back. 10 years later… More power, more problems. These days, Jay’s issues and enemies are of a grander stature and tax bracket. As a recently certified sports agent, he’s been excessively scrutinized by the powers that be. The NFL and FBI have investigated Carter for what appeared to be more racist than probable causes. He endured a comb-through when he put his fitted cap in the ring to become a Nets owner. Once ownership was attained, the NBA fined him $50K for visiting the University of Kentucky basketball team’s locker room. Today’s Jay-Z haters come in every color, though. There are “Blue bloods” of the high society turning a nose up to him for keeping close ties, personal and professional, with those from his past, and the expected rapper or two throwing shots at the throne. One in particular even went as far as to threaten the kidnapping of Beyonce. Jay’s reply: “Good luck with that, bruh!”

“MOMENT OF CLARITY” There are many moments on The Black Album where Jay allows himself to be vulnerable, but this track may be the most emotionally thorough. Over Eminem’s looming production, Marcy’s pen-less scribe writes his own catharsis. After finding more peace with the passing of his father, Jay addresses the criticism he’s received for diluting the lyrical intricacy of his earliest work in exchange for platinum riches. Here, he admits to this unapologetically, then retorts that although he wishes he could focus on the pure art of rhyme writing as much as Talib Kweli or Common, his priority is building an empire. Empires aren’t cheap––they cost millions to attain and maintain. In depth verses alone don’t afford you the capital to raise families and communities out of poverty or the opportunity to employ the needy or talented. Hov wanted his critics to understand that his decision to dumb his content down was one of true smarts. 10 years later… Jay looks even smarter for his pen’s balancing act. With acts who have succeeded over the last ten years without possessing high-grade rap skills (ie. Young Jeezy and Wiz Khalifa) as well as stars like Nicki Minaj, whose biggest records are far from lyrical, it’s clear Carter knew what he was doing after going 5X platinum in 1998. Yet in Jay-Z’s constant defense, his ability to craft hit records that are nestled with premium wordplay is what has made him a God MC. Perfect examples of Hov’s Libra gift are the Sinatra x Hip-Hop Big Apple anthem “Empire State of Mind” and the global force that’s he and Ye’s “Niggas In Paris.” That both are hit records and Jay’s bars on each are premium is equally undeniable. Pretty sure Jay doesn’t desire rhyming like Common anymore.

“PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT” The last track to make the album is one of the most beloved. In supreme B-boy fashion, the CEO of the R.O.C gave listeners cliff notes to this CD’s content. He first grandstands with the finest blend of truth-n-swag. At the time, he was the undisputed rap champ. His girlfriend, who adorned one of his many pricey necklaces, was indeed the music industry’s reigning Queen. But Jay never rested his message on braggadocio alone. He was one of the best at qualifying his greatness, at educating how the master of ceremony is a byproduct of the man. He admits to being layered. Similar to if Cuban activist Che Guevara wore diamond-encrusted jewelry, he tells us that he balls as hard as he fights for good cause. Jigga completely understood the frowns inspired by his excessive spending. There were times when even he couldn’t explain why he spent dope boy reckless. At the end he chalked it up to being a hustler by blood, not relation. 10 years later… The hottest chick in the game is no longer wearing Jay-Z’s chain. She’s now rocking his ring. The King of NY officially has an Aleida Guevara. While Jay’s philanthropy over the last 10 years has been notable, activism, despite a stronger corporate and political network, isn’t his strong suit & tie. As a millionaire in 2013, Che Guevara would’ve never let a business venture with a retail store cause him to hesitate standing against racism. Not to say Jay doesn’t speak out against systemic oppression or his enterprising isn’t motivational viewing for the disenfranchised. An example is his most recent appearance on Bill Mahr’s Real Time. Carter’s Cuban linked chain shared width with a TV remote, while his thoughts flirted with a future where an MC holds public office. He just wants us to always remember that no matter the era, cause or connect, his first priority is the hustle.

“JUSTIFY MY THUG” From the ignition of this Madonna-inspired DJ Quik track, S.C. reaffirms for everyone how thorough his resume is. He informs that despite spending years as a criminal, he’s never been incarcerated nor a police informant. That he’s that much of a stand up guy and demands the same honesty and loyalty from his friends; those in his circle who can reciprocate his nobility have a great chance of also finding riches. During his come-up, Jay wasn’t one to ask for assistance. He empathizes with dope boys who possess his same pride and entrepreneurial spirit, who would love to trade their illegal income for legal revenue. Unfortunately, America makes it arduous for those convicted of a crime to gain employment; becoming a business owner is damn near impossible. Yet drugs and liquor stores still flood the communities of those hustlers and Jigga suspects a conspiracy. He demands answers from his state’s Governor and country’s president. 10 years later… Many of the associates and artists that were in Jay-Z’s Roc-A-Fella circle around 2003 are no longer around today. Rap fans were disappointed that Hovito didn’t keep artists like Freeway and Young Chris in the fold and fell out with Beanie Sigel so bad that the two would spend the latter five years trading jabs on record. Yet, he received the most sideeyes when he received full ownership of Roc-A-Fella Records––after he and co-owners Damon “Dame” Dash and Kareem “Biggs” Burke sold it to Def Jam––and exed his partners out. Since becoming the President of Def Jam, Jay hasn’t needed to ask for many handouts, but he surely didn’t take his business to the stratospheric heights it hovers at today alone. With his new manager John McNeilly to his right and Roc Nation VP Jay Brown to his left, Mr. Carter has risen his power so exponentially that he can now ask his President “Fuck is up?” in person.

“ALLURE” Jay-Z partners with no producer to better results than Pharrell Williams. Pha-Real is a master at taking the uncovered nuance of an artist’s story and blooming it. This gem of a track is as intoxicating as its subject matter. In nearly five minutes, Young Vito confesses to being consumed by hustling. He reveals that drug dealers suffer the same sickness as their customers: addiction. Once he received his first taste of the lifestyle spoils afforded by disposable currency––Mercedes that were as fast as the women who ached to ride in them, champagne contests for the entire nightclub to see, being able to turn January into July with one flight––he was hooked. The euphoria he felt the first time he rode in infamous Brooklynite Calvin Klein’s green BMW was unforgettable. He also remembers his dilemma then: crime did pay for him, but a drug dealer’s story always ends with them on a cell block or in a pine box. 10 years later… A disgruntled and newly released Klein dimmed some of the luster from Jay’s autobiographical line/memory (the street legend accused Jay of building a career image on his likeness and not offering any reparation. The conflict appears to be resolved). Klein aside, Jay’s as much of an addict today as he’s ever been. He’s headily channeled his jones into raising an empire. The decade is only three years old and the King of Kings County is ahead my miles in Hip-Hop’s Business Man of the decade race. Diddy may have more net, but he––hell, most people on Earth––don’t have more business than El Heffe. A fiend for a new deal, the Jay-Z brand currently spans fashion (Rocawear), liquor (D’USSE cognac), sports (NBA owner to agent), nightlife (40/40 clubs), real estate (Barclays etc), and of course music (Roc Nation Records and management). Jay’s hustle has long passed being “So Russell.”

“1st SONG” On what was supposed to be Jay’s final bow, he offers the blueprint to his success. Remaining committed to the analogy he birthed in 1997––the rap game is a mirror of the trap game––Marcy’s own credits his underworld teachings for the sensibilities that allowed him to climb to the top of Hip-Hop, cross names out and write “Jigga.” The balancing act of foresight, timing, finesse and muscle performed to lock down blocks of smokers was the same application he used to take the music industry by storm. Once Hov reached the throne, his toughest challenge awaited: staying there. On this track he offers his approach, one that was shared by his best friend and fellow rap genius from Brooklyn, B.I.G.: once you attain the riches, diamonds, limo rides and private jet flights, work as hard as if you were still yearning to obtain them with your first song. 10 years later… Jay may have given away the recipe to his insatiable hunger to triumph, but he hasn’t deviated from these core principles at all. Firm proof of this is his constant ascent, which appears perpetual. Once President Carter reached his ceiling at Def Jam, he shook up the industry with a 1 of 1 deal for his own music factory. When critics dismissed his ability to sew superstar acts post Roc-A-Fella, he gave the world its biggest female rock star of color after wifey. Much of the fashion retail sphere disbelieved in Rocawear, until Hov upgraded the urban line to urbane. Not many of his victories, though, compete with a rapper from Marcy housing facilitating the Nets coming to Brooklyn as well as the building of its stadium. But who knows, this year Jay-Z traded in his NBA ownership for a sports agent certification. He currently manages the second best player in pro hoops and is seeking to make a Yankee the richest player in baseball history. Appears Brooklyn’s finest will be beating his high score for the rest of his life. Spectators just need to remember to always bet on Black.