Shyheim - A.K.A. The Rugged Child (April 19, 1994)

Unless you're one of those hip hop heads that doesn't really give a damn (like most of HHID's readers), you may have noticed that some of the children of the Wu-Tang Clan's original nine members have started releasing some material of their own.  Probably the best-known of this subset, most likely because of his horribly unoriginal rap name, is Young Dirty Bastard (also known as Boy Jones), the son of, well, if you have to ask, then you're reading the wrong blog; also among this group are the GZA's son Young Justice, U-God's next of kin Intell, Masta Killa's spawn Shamel Irief, and The RZA's daughter, Phineas Finklebottom.  But the Clan's original child star has been and always will be one Shyheim Franklin, the subject of today's post.

Shyheim was born in Brooklyn and was quickly shuttled to Staten Island, because, had things gone otherwise, there would be no story here.  After crashing with, of all people, Ghostface Killah, he became the youngest Wu affiliate at the age of fifteen, releasing his debut album, A.K.A. The Rugged Child, in 1994.  Interestingly enough, even with his partnership with the Clan, his debut album was produced almost solely by RNS and not The RZA (although he was nice enough to contribute one beat), and none of the original crew members even bothered to shop up to the studio.  Instead, Shyheim solidified his allegiance to one of the many Wu offshoots, the group GP Wu (made up of Ghostface's cousin Pop Da Brown Hornet, Down Low Recka, Rubbabandz, and June Luva), by allowing them to grace many of the tracks.

A.K.A. The Rugged Child scored a couple of minor hit singles (relatively speaking) and won Shyheim a much more prestigious spot in our chosen genre than most of the rest of the Wu affiliates.  This is a guy who once shared a stage at Madison Square Garden with both The Notorious B.I.G. and 2Pac at the same time.  This is a man who snagged a guest spot on Big Daddy Kane's massive (and massively ridiculous, in terms of the guest list, at least) posse cut "Show & Prove" alongside future hip hop mogul Jay-Z, who later tried to convince Shyheim to make a cameo on Reasonable Doubt's "Coming Of Age", but failed.  (According to Hova's book Decoded, Shyheim's manager essentially told Jay that he needed Shyheim more than Shyheim needed him.  I wonder if he's regretting that decision today.)  This is a guy who parlayed his success in hip hop into an acting career, popping up in the video for TLC's "Waterfalls" and in the film Original Gangstas.

But before all of that happened, there was A.K.A. The Rugged Child.

1. HERE COME THE HITS

Sure, you could see it as ironic that Shyheim's very first song on his very first solo album promises a string of hit songs that never actually materialized during his career, but that would just be mean. Besides, I love the fact that he was so optimistic at the tender age of fifteen. Although he makes it a point to mention his Wu-Tang affiliation (a running theme throughout A.K.A. The Rugged Child), RNS's beat sounds more suited for an old-school, Big Daddy Kane type, and that's exactly the vibe Shyheim runs with, lacing the instrumental with three engaging, if not entirely memorable, verses. As he elected to skip past the rap album intro trope on his debut, though, I give the man a pass on this song, as it isn't even that bad in the first place.

2. ON AND ON (FEAT. JUNE LUVA, RNS, KIA JEFFRIES, & MILK D)

The first single from A.K.A. The Rugged Child boasted a remix from DJ Premier, although I've never read anything where Primo confirmed that shit (sometimes a lie can be so widespread that you can never be sure of the actual truth). I'm pretty skeptical, though: even if Primo came to my house and handcrafted the remix before my very eyes, I'd have my doubts. (Hear that, Primo? I'm inviting you over to my house!) Besides, I don't own the twelve-inch single of “On and On”, so I can't really be sure, although I'm sure you two will probably confirm it for me in the comments). Anyway, “On and On” boasts the foulmouthed Shyheim waxing poetically about his surroundings and the struggles that he has been a witness to, tackling the subject matter with a serious eye that eludes most “adult” artists today. I'm not sure if Shyheim actually wrote these lines himself (although I'm leaning towards “yes”), but the man recites them well. (I wonder exactly how Virgin/EMI sold this album in their marketing materials, however: did they play up the “fifteen-year old cursing up a storm” concept? Or did they just superimpose a Wu-Tang logo over his face? Whose idea was it to give this kid a record deal, anyway? This is the kind of shit that boggles my mind.) Also, I was surprised to learn that Milk D (of Audio Two) actually contributed to the hook, which apparently only sounds like it was borrowed from his performance on “Top Billin'”. Huh.

3. PASS IT OFF (FEAT. RUBBABANDZ, DOWN LOW RECKA, & POP DA BROWN HORNET)

Shyheim and his invited guests double down on a posse cut over this RNS beat, one that appears to use the same drums as Naughty By Nature's “Hip Hop Hooray”. Truth be told, it was corny as fuck to hear two of these guys (not our host) brag about using “Wu-Tang slang” when they've never appeared on any official Wu-Tang Clan member's project: it reeks of desperation. As a posse cut, though, this was still pretty enjoyable, especially since the listener is left guessing as to how awkward the guests felt with the idea of spitting their thug raps alongside a child, specifically a child who turns in the best verse. The hook was a little much, but so be it.

4. NEVER SAY NEVER (INTERLUDE)

A complete waste of time.

5. ONE'S 4 DA MONEY

Oddly, it's taken Shyheim four songs and an interlude to tell the listener what they already figured out: he is not “the Mac Daddy or the Daddy Mac”. Which is probably for the best, as the members of Kris Kross would be swallowed whole by RNS's Wu-Tang-aping instrumental, while Shy sounds like he's been living within it for half of his life. “One's 4 Da Money” was the second single from A.K.A. The Rugged Child, and it was a good choice: even though he goes overboard with the whole Clan thing, he proves over the course of two verses that he is as fully formed an artist as a fifteen-year old could have possibly been given the circumstances. Also, the scratched-in samples of Audio Two's “Top Billin'” were a nice touch: apparently RNS has a thing for the classics.

6. HERE I AM (FEAT. DOWN LOW RECKA)

Shyheim abandons the dark tone of the past few tracks to bring listeners back to an older school of thought: namely, the idea that hip hop started out as feel-good party music. RNS's instrumental is game enough, but our host sounds uncomfortable, as he seems to prefer dark corners to brightly-colored rec rooms. “Here I Am” is the first real misstep of the evening, especially with the phrase, “It's a Wu-Tang thing” repeated as a chorus at one point. We get it, you're down with the Clan. Now please explain why your management team couldn't convince anyone from the actual group to give up a guest verse for your debut album, because that's what we're all wondering.

7. MOVE IT OVER HERE (FEAT. POP DA BROWN HORNET)

Guest star Pop Da Brown Hornet, who only provides the intro, ad libs, and various words of encouragement for our host, has a point: most child acts in hip hop only stick around for one or two hit songs. Shyheim tries to buck the trend, and almost convinces me that he could have been one of the more popular Wu affiliates had he received more of a push from his label, as his verses over this darker-than-it-has-any-right-to-be RNS beat display the soul of a rap veteran trapped in the body of a child. There's a crappy made-for-cable movie in that idea somewhere: you two can have it for free. Anyway, this wasn't bad.

8. BUCKWYLYN

For some reason, this song sounded like your nephew, pre-puberty, rapping along to an Onyx song that has never existed. It wasn't a terrible choice, but the shock value of hearing a kid rhyme about the horrifying violent acts that occur around his way about every half hour or so has long since worn off, and as such, Shyheim sounds like any other rapper on the radio, save for his need to consistently shout out his Wu-Tang affiliation. The Guru (R.I.P.) sound bite used during the hook grew tiresome after its third repetition. Actually, the entire song grew pretty tiresome, now that I think about it.

9. YOU THE MAN (FEAT. DOWN LOW RECKA)

Shyheim and Down Low Recka exhibit a natural chemistry together behind the mic, as they playfully pass the mic back and forth over a jazzier RNS concoction. The invited guest especially sounds as though he had something to prove: his flow is good enough to wish that The RZA could have found another crew to place him with after the disbanding of GP Wu. It's good to hear that Shyheim's overall worldview hasn't become clouded over, and that he still thought it was a good idea to have actual fun in the booth.

10. NAPSACK

As our host has pledged his allegiance to it throughout A.K.A. The Rugged Child, it makes sense that he would dedicate an entire song to his “Napsack” (I have to assume that the manufacturer of his preferred brand was too cheap to spell out the word “knapsack” properly on the tag). Over a dark, drum-heavy production that wouldn't sound entirely out of place on Method Man's Tical, Shyheim boasts about the burner he keeps in his backpack while dissecting exactly why he's a better rapper than you will ever be. At least he has that particular rap album trope down. This was pretty fucking nice.

11. THE RUGGED ONEZ (FEAT. JUNE LUVA, PROPHET, & KWAZI)

Another posse cut, although this one gives our host the least interesting verse, as he finds himself inserted in between rappers who bend their bars to amuse themselves and not necessarily to fit the instrumental, which actually bangs. There's even a severe left turn into religion near the end of the track, but the ship rights itself soon after. Shyheim doesn't sound bad at all on here: he's just the more traditional of the four artists who perform, and that's not exactly praiseworthy.

12. LITTLE RASCALS

Lest you two think that all of Shyheim's kind words for the Wu were falling on deaf ears, The RZA (credited as the misspelled “Prince Rhakeem” in the liner notes) provides his lone instrumental on what is the shortest song on the entire fucking album. I'd love to say that Prince Rakeem blows all of the rest of the tracks out of the water, but he actually plays it fairly safe, providing musical accompaniment that sounds like everything else on A.K.A. The Rugged Child. Shyheim sounds pretty good over this, though. As it seems to cut off early, I'm left wondering what this could have sounded like with a few extra minutes tacked on.

13. 4 THE HEADPIECE (INTERLUDE) (FEAT. DOWN LOW RECKA, DU-LILZ, & RUBBABANDZ)

Shyheim and his uncredited guests (actually, that's a bit unfair, as nearly all of the guests on this album don't receive any credit) all spit a few bars. While the beat sounded decent, I couldn't help continuing to picture a bunch of grown-ass men sharing the mic with a little kid, especially one who seemed to be cursing simply to sound older, so that was a bit distracting.

14. PARTY'S GOIN' ON

There isn't anything fun about this track, no matter what the song title wants you to believe, but it was still enjoyable enough, especially when the Wendy Rene “After Laughter (Comes Tears)” sample (also used on the Wu's “Tearz”) kicks in during the hook. For his part, Shyheim ends his final verse of the project with the disturbing imagery of him fucking a bunch of chicks: although the undercurrent was clearly laid throughout the album, it still sounds icky, as though every single “hottie” that approached Shyheim to get “pumped” during the recording of this album should be brought up on charges of statutory rape.

15. SHOUTS ON THE OUTS (INTERLUDE)

Ending on an interlude, Shy? Well, stranger things have happened, I guess. This is just your typical rap album outro, one where our host thanks everybody for their help on wax.

FINAL THOUGHTS: The novelty of a child cursing wears off quickly, not unlike watching Bobb'e J. Thompson on Human Giant or in Role Models, but thanks to some quality production from RNS, Shyheim's debut, A.K.A. The Rugged Child, is an enjoyable, if a bit disturbing, excursion into Staten Island, as seen through the eyes of a teenager. His oft-referenced Wu-Tang affiliation will gets heads into the room, but Shy's fully-formed persona will keep them in their seats, as he sounds more comfortable on his debut project than most artists to five albums into their careers. (Yes, this may only be because there were zero expectations for Shyheim, and as such, he had nothing to feel uncomfortable about, but that's another story.) It is extraordinarily frustrating to hear Shyheim shout out the Wu so fucking often without any real payoff: even the members of Killarmy don't talk about their affiliation all that much. A lone two-minute beat from The RZA comes across as a bone thrown to a hungry audience member after he has already eaten everyone else in the crowd: too little, too late. But RNS handles the bulk of the musical backing with ease, so as long as you're not specifically looking for kung-fu flick samples and dusty drums from the basement of the Wu Mansion, you'll find yourself enjoying A.K.A. The Rugged Child.

BUY OR BURN? You can probably find this for relatively cheap, so you may as well spend the money. A.K.A. The Rugged Child is a nice blast from the past, and the 1994 model year Shyheim is a hell of a lot more enjoyable and interesting than he is today.

BEST TRACKS: “Napsack”; “You The Man”; “On and On”; “Little Rascals”; “One's 4 Da Money”

-Max

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PMD - Shade Business (September 27, 1994)

One of the many side stories running concurrently on HHID is the saga of EPMD, the rap duo made up of rapper-slash-producers Erick Sermon and Parrish Smith.  This Brentwood pairing is responsible for some of the catchiest, funkiest, and sample-heaviest early hits in hip hop history, and through them came the careers of K-Solo, Das EFX and the incomparable Redman, all of whom were members of Erick and Parrish's Hit Squad collective.

After four relatively successful albums, EPMD broke up in 1993 under suspicious circumstances.  Parrish Smith's home was broken into, and when the cops questioned the suspects, one of them dropped Sermon's name as the man who hired him to perform the robbery.  Combined with the fact that The Green-Eyed Bandit had publicly complained about PMD's mismanagement of the duo's royalties, and the groundwork was set for the duo to split the fuck up.  Sermon quickly regrouped and unleashed his solo debut, No Pressure, later that same year, launching the solo careers of Keith Murray and the aforementioned Redman in the process (folding them into his newly-created Def Squad, who I'm sure you've all heard of), and his hastiness resulted in a second life that is still running strong (sort of).  

On the other hand, PMD laid low for a couple of years, quietly releasing his own solo debut, Shadé Business, on PMD Records, a subsidiary of RCA.  Regardless of the fact that the album title continues the "business" theme that all of EPMD's albums worked with, this project was Parrish's attempt to rewrite history, casting himself as the wronged man who sat idly by while his crooked partner (alleged, anyway) reaped the rewards of his work.  This might be an almost literal translation: it's been said that, although the production on the four EPMD albums were credited to both men (and their deejay, DJ Scratch), Smith was the main contributor on the first three efforts, although everyone seems to give E-Double the props, mainly because he's the one who continued to produce after the fact.  As such, PMD produced nearly all of his solo debut, and called in favors from Das EFX (the rippity-rappity duo who stood by Parrish's side throughout the turmoil) and some no-name weed carriers who he found living on his couch.

Shadé Business (yes, that is the actual title) is split into two halves: the "Darkside", which consists of the first seven tracks, and the "Zoneside", which supports the rest of the album even though zoneside isn't a real word.  Although hip hop heads seem to be cognizant of its existence, nobody seems to admit that they actually like this album: in fact, a lot of folks either pretend PMD's solo career was a terrible, lucid dream, or they choose to look at his second album, Business Is Business, as an alternative debut.  Either way, I haven't listened to this shit in at least fifteen years, so let's see how this goes.

1. SHADÉ BUSINESS

First song on the album, and Parrish Smith already sounds out of breath. His flow hardly resembles the hardcore edge he brought to EMPD's efforts: instead, he sounds like a grizzled veteran who can't be bothered to sync up to the beat. PMD's bars are easy to understand, mainly because his lines are so elementary that he probably had an assist from his nine-year-old nephew. Not a good way to kick things off. It probably didn't help that our host's instrumental is a meandering loop that never finds its destination. Anyone hoping to hear Parrish's thoughts on the breakup on this title track will be hard-pressed to find a direct answer on here. Also, why the fuck didn't he just call this song (and the album) “Shady Business”? Trying to be all fancy and shit.

2. IN THE ZONE

If the beat on “Shadé Business” was meandering, then PMD's work on “In The Zone” doesn't even bother to get out of bed in the morning, it's that fucking lazy. Parrish's flow sounds a bit better on this track, but his braggadocio sounds forced when he doesn't have somebody to bounce it off of. This is the second song in a row where our host mentions being an underground artist: dude, everyone knows that EPMD sold a shit-ton of records. Merely saying that you're “underground” doesn't make it so. I kind of enjoyed the few bars where he explains that his ailing mother inspired him to work hard at this rap shit, but that was about it. Also, the twelve-year-old boy in me first thought that the sample during the chorus was saying, “Back rub / Boy, go easy with the hand lotion”, which is much more interesting than what the song is actually saying.

3. STEPPIN' THRU HARDCORE

People who like to read too much into thinks (such as myself) may believe that the line that ipens this track, “Them n----z knew that shit before it happened!”, is PMD's way of telling the listener that he hasn't forgotten about the reason why EPMD broke up. Considering that the rest of “Steppin' Thru Hardcore” fails to follow up on this conspiracy theory, it's likely that the line was a bone tossed at longtime fans and nothing more. Sadly, there is nothing remotely hardcore about this track: the instrumental is all dull thumps while it walks in place, and Parrish continues his lyrical downward spiral. I never once thought that Erick Sermon was the better rapper of the duo, but right now I'm remembering why I didn't care much about PMD until the reunion album Back In Business.

4. RESPECT MINE

This was all sorts of pretty fucking terrible. PMD's verses disprove any theory that he was ever an actual good rapper at any point: he's undergone a de-evolution that is evident from his first two bars: “I hear my people calling me, 'Where is he?' / 'Where is he?', 'Where is he?', The PMD”. Yes, he just recited “Where is he?” three times in succession. The instrumental creeps along without ever committing, and the “chorus”, made up of two sound bites (including a distorted one from the Wu-Tang Clan's “C.R.E.A.M.”, which gives the song its title and is absolutely the worst use of a sample from that track that I have ever fucking heard) which are difficult to decipher. The extended intro was also useless, as it has fuck-all to do with this song. Groan.

5. HERE THEY CUM (FEAT. DAS EFX)

Skoob and Krazy Drayzy Of Das EFX provide the first sparks of life on Shadé Business with their hyperactive performances, which are easily the most interesting on the album thus far. Parrish Smith is outclassed by his invited guests with his embarrassingly amateur verses that betray the fact that he was once a part of one of the most popular duos in hip hop history, but at least Das EFX elevate the track to a listenable level. The line, “Oh my God, it's the [Hit] Squad / Or should I say, what's left / Just let me kick the shit and we will see who's really Def” (emphasis my own), is one of the only direct references to the split on this entire album, and even that is relatively chaste. Still raise your glasses for the first song (well, half of the song, anyway) that still holds up seven years later. “Here They Cum” (with a misspelled title that switches up the meaning from what PMD intended) also features one of the goofiest (and most memorable) examples of cutting together two separate sound bites and making a chorus out of them: Parrish uses a line from both Willie D.'s verse from the Geto Boys's “Mind Playing Tricks” and from Scarface's “Mr. Scarface” to create this fucking gem: “'Here they come, just like I figured' / '...and came back with a motherfucking hit squad!'” Catchy as all hell, too.

6. BACK TO THE RAP

The tame instrumental sounds exactly like what EPMD would have rhymed over back in 1994, so I should throw some points Parrish's way for consistency. Or not: it's not as though these mythical “points” are tangible items that can be projected in any direction, as that would just be silly. PMD loses his leverage in our chosen genre by pairing a great message (rappers should respect both the institution of hip hop and their fans) with a bland performance, one that name-drops just enough EMPD tracks to prove that our host really has a problem with letting things go. It doesn't help that “Back To The Rap” seems to consist of PMD's very first appearance behind the mic, too. Bleh.

7. I'LL WAIT (FEAT. ZONE 7)

It's been a long time since I listened to PMD's solo work, so I had completely forgotten about how fucking dope DJ Scratch's instrumental on here is. There is no way in hell that E-Double would ever feel comfortable over this bleak-as-shit beat: only Parrish Smith has the capability of not becoming lost in it. And in that respect, he does alright, even though he is cockblocked at every turn by Zone 7, a relative unknown (both back then and presently) that blows him out of the fucking frame with an energetic performance and a batshit-crazy rhyme delivery system. I was willing to overlook PMD's contribution merely because the beat overrides everything else on the final product, it's that good.

8. I SAW IT CUMMIN'

Again with the obsession of ejaculation? Anyway, before any residual goodwill can set in, PMD presents this horseshit, with its overused Ohio Players “Funky Worm” sample that he doesn't even sound comfortable rhyming over, which leads one to wonder why he would have ever agreed to this in the first place. Maybe this could be considered an attempt to get the West Coast audience on board: the vocal samples from Snoop (Doggy) Dogg's “Who Am I (What's My Name?”) and Ice Cube's “No Vaseline” certainly support this theory. The title makes you think that PMD will finally address the breakup of EPMD, but he takes the high road on here, which would be commendable had that been what anybody actually wanted to fucking hear. Just let it out, man; you know you want to.

9. SWING YOUR OWN THING

A thousand times meh.

10. FAKE HOMEYZ (FEAT. 3RD EYE & TOP QUALITY)

Our host's beat was pretty good, and the scratching was an excellent touch, but all of the rhymes on here fucking blew. Parrish Smith has had a serious problem trying to stay on beat throughout Shadé Business, but on “Fake Homeyz” (whose “chorus” seems to almost celebrate your phony-ass friends), he recruits Top Quality and 3rd Eye (better known as producer Jesse West), two weed carriers who also can't stay on beat, and the track is a failure as a result. At least Das EFX elevated the material they were forced to deal with: there's a reason why you don't remember anybody in the rap game named Top Quality or 3rd Eye.

11. PHUCK IT UP SCRATCH (INTERLUDE)

Apparently Parrish also retained custody of DJ Scratch, and as a reward for his loyalty, he is gifted with a track dedicated solely to his work behind the ones and twos. Not that any of you two should ever listen to this shit or anything. But I figured it would be nice to know that this interlude exists.

12. BACK UP OR GET SMACKED UP

Marks the second time PMD has mentioned the Go-Bots on Shadé Business. And that also serves as a metaphor for why Parrish Smith's solo career never really took off: he backed the wrong horse. (If you were given a choice between Reggie Noble and one of the members of Das EFX, who would you run with? That's right, it's Redman all day.) The beat sounds pretty intense, and a better rapper would murder the shit out of it, but in addition to refusing to stay on beat, PMD also attempts a double-time flow for part of this song, and I was left scratching my head. This was a joke, right? No, seriously, what was this?

13. THOUGHT I LOST MY SPOT

This Mark the 45 King-produced effort makes the convincing argument that, not only has Parrish Smith lost his spot, he makes it seem like he never deserved one to begin with. This is especially true during the end of the final verse, when our host starts using random words for no reason (such as “flipmode”, even though Busta Rhymes wouldn't be seen within five hundred feet of Shadé Business). Sigh.

14. NO SHORTS AND NO SLEEP (FEAT. 3RD EYE, TOP QUALITY, & ZONE 7)

Shadé Business ends with this posse cut ode to pantsless insomnia, proving why Erick Sermon's Def Squad demanded a crew album while Parrish Smith's Hit Squad is barely whispered about in hip hop circles today. All of PMD's weed carriers (same for Das EFX, who were smart enough to bounce before they were officially asked to contribute) sound fucking godawful over this throbbing instrumental, but their host, who is supposed to swoop in and outshine them all, fares no better. This was a lackluster ending to a lackluster ending, but fuck it, it's still an ending, so I'll take it.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Had PMD's only recorded work been his solo debut Shadé Business, then the man would have vanished from our chosen genre without a fucking trace. His misguided attempt to erase the memory of EPMD from the subconscious of his fans is plagued by (mostly) bland production and cameo appearances from guys who had no right to ever pick up a microphone, but the real problem lies in PMD's own performance, which is so disjointed that Erick Sermon won the battle without lifting a finger (or even really declaring a war, for that matter). It's disheartening to hear a guy who sounded so focused and forceful on four consecutive EPMD albums stumble over his own words on his solo debut: it's almost as though E Double's success with his own solo album No Pressure shook our host's confidence so badly that he actually forgot how to write a rhyme. Shadé Business is a terrible album that deserves to be forgotten. Yeah, I said it.

BUY OR BURN? Neither. You would be okay to ignore this album entirely, but if you absolutely must hear something from PMD today, go with the track listed below. The chorus will make you smile, at least.

BEST TRACKS: “Here They Cum”

-Max

Cormega - Legal Hustle (May 25, 2004)

Legal Hustle is the third solo album from Cory Mckay, released by the Koch graveyard back in 2004.  It followed up the critically-acclaimed one-two punch known as The Realness and The True Meaning, which, as most bloggers would tell it, constitute the greatest debut and sophomore releases from a single artist since the dawn of our chosen genre.  Your great-grandchildren will tell the tale of Mega Montana to their own kids, who will barely tolerate yet another story told by their parents, as they won't know what they fuck they're talking about, since hip hop will have evolved into an entirely different, chirpy, poppy, and ridiculous medium that only the children of celebrities and trust fund babies will continue to take seriously.

Until that fateful day, we have Legal Hustle.  Mega's third effort was named after his Legal Hustle vanity imprint, on which he signed artists who he believed had the drive and passion to become the next big thing in hip hop, or, in the case of the female rapper Doña, at least had the voice of someone that you two are sure to recognize.  (I wrote these introductory paragraphs after I finished the write-up, and I have to admit, I kind of go overkill on the whole "she sounds like (SPOLIER HIDDEN)" thing.  Fair warning.)  Legal Hustle originally started life as a compilation mixtape-slash-label sampler, but both Cormega and Koch Records quickly discovered that nobody in their right mind would give two fucks about Legal Hustle unless Mega played more than just a supporting role. Suddenly, Legal Hustle turned into a Mega solo project with a shit-ton of guest appearances, with only a couple of tracks betraying the original version's roots.

Even with the retooling, Legal Hustle wasn't a hot seller, and even kind of bombed at the critical level.  Cormega would soon lose his imprint and virtually all but disappear from hip hop for several years, popping up periodically to record songs with his boy Lake and to take in a matinee of whatever Michael Bay had up his sleeve that summer.  

So.

1. INTRO (FEAT. DOÑA & MIZ)

Legal Hustle eschews the typical rap album intro, regardless of what this track's title leads you to believe, in favor of some actual verses. Our host kicks things off, flowing smoothly over a soulful Curtis Mayfield sample, explaining to his fans why there was a delay between The True Meaning and now. He sounds pretty good, but the song kicks into high gear when his weed carriers take to the mic, mainly because the background music hilariously morphs into a loop swiped from U2's “Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me” (from the Batman Forever soundtrack) with a faux-Neptunes bounce beat attached. Doña (who sounds exactly like Foxy Brown) and Miz each provide a verse, but while neither baggage handler technically sounds bad, they are both obscured by the U2 sample, which had my jaw dropping in awe of the sheer audacity on display from producers Ax The Bull, the Feil Brothers, and Cormega himself. Still, I'm sure there's a reason Mega Montana himself doesn't bother to tackle the second beat on here.

2. BEAUTIFUL MIND

As with most rap songs, this long one-verse wonder from Cormega doesn't adhere to any specific theme, unless you derived from the title that this song would be a stream-of-consciousness rant from our host, following his brainwaves wherever he felt like taking them; if that's the case, then you have just won a cookie. This would be why he kicks off his performance talking about people being jealous of him, skipping to his troubled childhood, and ending on a show of mic dominance. In short, this was like every other rap song ever made. Mega sounds pretty interesting, though. Too bad our host's piano-based instrumental isn't nearly dramatic enough to aid the bars in any way, shape, or form.

3. LET IT GO (FEAT. M.O.P.)

Considering how cold and calculated he tends to sound on the mic, Cormega probably would not have been my first choice for a collaboration with the Mash Out Posse. Still, he was voted the most likely member of The Firm to actually work with M.O.P. (in an older issue of Highlights For Children), so this pairing at least makes a little bit of sense. Unfortunately, “Let It Go” is an overlong exercise in futility. Emile's beat is boring as fuck, as it is not conducive to the talents of anyone appearing on here, and Mega, who admirably tries sticking with his guns (relatively speaking), gets lost at sea. The only lyrics I can even remember came from Fizzy Womack, and they weren't even all that great: he was just complaining that his label at the time still hadn't bothered to release the new M.O.P. album. Hey guys, we're still waiting.

4. THE BOND (FEAT. DOÑA)

Mega and Doña, his de facto costar on Legal Hustle (or at least the basket in which he seems to have placed all of his eggs), spit a single verse each on this boring ode to loyalty. Ax's instrumental is weak as shit: it's almost as though Cory has somehow completely forgotten how to choose a beat for his rantings. Both artists also say basically the exact same shit, but while neither is awful, they're also not very good, especially the bars from our host, who should fucking know better. Moving on...

5. BRING IT BACK

Mega Montana is a student of hip hop, and he'll show off his knowledge every chance he gets. The man clearly misses the time when rap music wasn't so goddamn stupid (as do we all), so he recorded this brief ode to about one hundred and fifty of his favorite rappers, dropping more names than The Game on any given Tuesday. The Ayatollah instrumental is simple enough for Mega to get his point across, and he does so in a fairly good manner: this is one of the most entertaining odes to the old school I've heard in a while, and he even manages to warn his contemporary peers that they will fade into irrelevancy if they don't start saying things worth hearing. Not bad at all.

6. HOODY (FEAT. DOÑA)

Cormega steps back behind the boards for “Hoody”, but doesn't need to do all that much: it's virtually impossible to fuck up a rap song if you're sampling ESG's “UFO”. Doña pops up again to drive her Fox Boogie-sounding voice into your subconscious: the vocal similarities are more than a little distracting at this point. Mega also kicks a verse, nearly tripping over all of his words at one point, but he pulls out a fairly lyrical performance in the end. This short diversion (with one verse from each participant, and Mega pulling an extended riff from The Notorious B.I.G.'s “Kick In The Door”, marking this as the umpteenth time Biggie Smalls has been referenced on Legal Hustle thus far) isn't original in the least but, but it all goes back to that sample, which is just hot. Also, the scratches from Tony Touch help out quite a bit.

7. DANGEROUS (FEAT. UNDA P. & VYBZ KARTEL)

I tend to hate it when rap artists veer off into a reggae subtext when that isn't in their wheelhouse, as it usually results in embarrassingly bad accents and general pandering to an audience that would easily be able to tell that they are simply tourists in a foreign land. “Dangerous” is decent enough, mostly because Mega Montana is too smart to cave in to peer pressure: the instrumental is dancehall-tinged, but our host sticks to the script and delivers his verse the Cormega way, leaving the reggae to the actual experts. Still not the greatest song in the world, though.

8. TONY / MONTANA (FEAT. GHOSTFACE KILLAH)

Pretty Toney and Mega Montana hook up for one of the most brilliantly-titled songs in recent memory. Unfortunately, the final product, which was highly anticipated (by me, anyway) ever since it was first announced, collapses at the starting gate and arrives at the hospital dead on arrival. This Feil Brothers instrumental, which can't decide if it wishes to ape The RZA (or, more accurately, maybe 4th Disciple) or Kanye West, sounds like a store-branded generic, and both Ghostface Killah and Cormega, who technically provide decent verses, sound like they can never quite catch up to it, rendering the entire experience alarmingly empty. Ghost has a funny line at the beginning, though, when he mentions that “pussy is the next best thing besides women”. Although I'm now left wondering where he gets his pussy from, I will admit that the line still sounds pretty good coming from him.

9. PERSONIFIED (FEAT. DOÑA)

I don't believe either participant on this track knows exactly what the word “personified” even means. Anyway, Mega spits some hip hop street savior-esque nonsense over Spunk Bigga's inconsequential beat, while Doña provides a chorus that sounds fucking stupid. However, her actual verse was pretty interesting and heartfelt, as she describes her struggles and the loss of loved ones, so she gets a pass, even though her bars contain the nine millionth reference to The Notorious B.I.G. on Legal Hustle. Seriously, I had no idea that Christopher Wallace was such a huge influence on Cory. Weird.

10. STAY UP (FEAT. KIRA)

Most rappers seem to think that the easiest way to follow a proper song structure is to include a bullshit R&B chorus. Most rappers are also fucking idiots that make lots of bad decisions. Coincidence?

11. DEEP BLUE SEA (FEAT. JAYO FELONY & KURUPT)

Have you ever listened to a song and just want to choke the shit out of the artist because it sucked so goddamn much? No? It's just me that has occasional violent thoughts when listening to rap music? Man, this blog is wearing me out. But anyway, that;s what I want to do to Kurupt, because his hook on the bi-coastal effort “Deep Blue Sea” (which doesn't even bother to mention LL Cool J or a shark eating Samuel L. Jackson, sadly) is so annoying that he should be run the fuck out of our chosen genre. Mega attempts a double-time flow over this Emile production, and he also doesn't look good as a result. The only person on here that emerges unscathed is frequent West Coast punchline Jayo Felony, who actually sounds really fucking good on here. Credit where credit is due, I guess.

12. MORE CRIME (FEAT. THE JACKA)

“So who the fuck is The Jacka supposed to be?”, you two may find yourselves asking. “And why the hell isn't Cormega featured on 'More Crime'?” Lest you forget, Legal Hustle started life as a mixtape-slash-label sampler for Mega's stable of artists: although it quickly morphed into a Mega Montana solo album (sort of, but not really), there were still a couple of loose ends allowed to breathe, The Jacka's solo effort being one of them. You can just imagine how much “More Crime” sucked if I devoted most of this paragraph to rehashing a topic that I already tackled in the introductory paragraphs.

13. MONSTER'S BALL (FEAT. BANGER, LAKE, & MAINO)

Ax (The Bull) produced a posse cut on which all four participants seem to be making the exact same boasts, which is never really good for business. Mega gets his verse out of the way quickly, so that he can get back to his part-time job at Aeropostale, while the remaining three artists (including Lake, who Mega would later record an entire album with) all fail to sound convincing in the least bit. Definitely one of the most dull songs of this type that I've heard in a while.

14. REDEMPTION (FEAT. AZ)

There isn't anything redeeming about this suck-ass Firm reunion: this just sounds like the same piffle AZ tried to pass off as “music” on 9 Lives. Emile's instrumental is a simple loop with a fear of commitment, sticking with old patterns and never accepting change, which will make the listener grow bored real fucking quick. AZ sounds meh as well, but I didn't expect much from hum, so that's fine. The shocker of this song is how terrible Cormega comes across, with the rhymes of an amateur who was just laughed off the stage at his high school's talent show taking place in the cafetorium. Seriously, what the hell just happened here?

15. RESPECT ME (FEAT. DOÑA)

The other holdover from the original label sampler concept is this Doña solo track, on which she unleashes her monotone growl across three verses and multiple hooks, all without changing the inflection in her voice, leading me to feel that this song lasts for thirty goddamn minutes instead of its actual three minute and thirty-seven second runtime. The Foxy Brown comparison, while tired at this point, is impossible to ignore: aside from the fact that Doña consciously chooses grimy street shit over the materialism that Inga praised, they might as well be the same fucking person. Since Cormega, who doesn't appear on “Respect Me” at all, is actually friends with Foxy Brown, I have to wonder how she ultimately felt about Doña's signing to his label.

16. SUGAR RAY AND HEARNS (FEAT. LARGE PROFESSOR)

Why in the holy fuck does the best goddamn song on Legal Hustle last for less than two minutes? Why is the sky blue? Why is water wet? I just don't know. Cormega and special guest star Extra P each spit a lovely verse over a relaxing J-Love instrumental that sounds perfect for zoning out, without being so spacey that it could possibly alienate the listener. While I believe this collaboration could have been even better had the Large Professor produced it himself, I still dug this song today. Once again, this is the best song on the album, by far.

17. THE MACHINE (FEAT. DOÑA & MIZ)

Legal Hustle concludes with a dramatic Ax loop that actually sounded really fucking good; it's just too bad that two-thirds of the track is wasted on weed carrier contributions which are so meaningless that I can't even confirm that they ever really happened. Mega Montana closes out the album with a fairly stellar turn, though, so he helps end the project on a high note. Of sorts.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Yes, it may be unfair to compare Cormega's Legal Hustle to The Realness and The True Meaning, but I don't give much of a fuck, I'm doing it anyway: the moment Mega Montana decided to alter Legal Hustle's purpose from label sampler mixtape to an actual album, he opened himself up to criticism, and this effort is, quite simply, his laziest to date. His reliance on guest stars (most of whom are his label's employees) causes the listener to lose focus on just who Cory Mckay is and what he is capable of behind the mic, and most of these cameos are weak as shit, as well. Music-wise, Mega relies on C-listers to provide his beats (when he doesn't just do them himself, to save his company a buck), and their lack of experience shows in just how fucking boring the majority of Legal Hustle is. I just had to sit through nearly the entire goddamn album before I remembered that “Sugar Ray and Hearns” was actually pretty good; that song is representative of what Legal Hustle could have been. There was no excuse for this shit, Cory.

BUY OR BURN? Burn this shit. Cormega's fans undoubtedly already own this one anyway, but even they should rip the tracks below and sell of their copies, it's that bad.

BEST TRACKS: “Sugar Ray and Hearns”; “Bring It Back”

-Max

RELATED POSTS:

Catch up with Cormega by clicking here.

My Gut Reaction: Game - The R.E.D. Album (August 23, 2011)

As an artist, Jayceon Taylor fascinates me.  The artist formerly known as The Game (he prefers just "Game" now, which means I will ignore his request for the majority of this write-up) hails from Compton, California, the birthplace of N.W.A. and a city generally known as ground zero for the West Coast gangsta rap scene, but while he represents his sub-genre with pride, he also comes off as far more lyrical behind the microphone than what most hip hop heads will ever give him credit for.  For a guy who claims to have learned how to rap by listening to the classics while laid up in a hospital recovering from life-threatening gunshot wounds (hell, for a guy who says that he never even thought of hip hop as a career path until he was shot), he seems to have mastered his version of the art rather quickly.  His albums are consistent in the category of lyricism, and his many mixtapes showcase a guy who is willing to experiment with his sound for the greater good (most rappers wouldn't dare dream of attempting to write four hundred bars for use in a single song).

As a person, though, he comes across as an immature loose cannon, quick with a retaliatory response aimed at anyone, and I mean anyone, who he thinks looked at him sideways.  His onetime mentor Curtis Jackson, who included The Game within his G-Unit crew at one point, tends to be his primary target in interviews (after Curtis dropped him from the group for befriending the enemy (Ja Rule, Fat Joe, etc.), Game attacked him for basically being a bastard: their beef has continued off and on ever since), and Jayceon has also engaged in a relatively one-sided war of words with Jay-Z since his debut album, The Documentary (I say "relatively" because Hova has yet to ever official respond, and no, that "Dear Summer" song he did on Memphis Bleek's album doesn't count).  The Game's plan of attack has always been to burn the bridge quickly and beg for forgiveness afterward: the laundry list of rappers who Game has thrown potshots at is probably longer than any bill presented to Congress.  And yet the man still has more friends in the industry than Canibus.  I'm just saying.

Anyway, the long-delayed The R.E.D. Album is Game's fourth full-length project, and his third attempt at winning back the audience that abandoned him around the same time Dr. Dre did, which happened right after The Documentary dropped.  Having been shuttled to Geffen/Interscope after his beef with Curtis caused a rift between him and his Aftermath home, The Game had to impress the label before they could guarantee a release date: the three-year delay between his third album, L.A.X. and The R.E.D Album (which he claims is not a tribute to his allegiance with the Bloods but an acronym for his "re-dedicating" himself to hip hop: *cough* bullshit *cough*) can be explained by the fact that every single goddamn song he dropped as a potential single for the past three years has been met with indifference, and the label refused to fund an album that wasn't going to sell any units.  This is actually a pretty smart way to handle the situation, in my opinion: why waste your resources on an artist who can't prove that he still has an audience?  

Obviously, The Game finally unleashed a minor hit, or else I wouldn't be holding The R.E.D. Album in my hands right now.  I also blame Dr. Dre, who finally decided to stand by his former employee during this troubled time in gangsta rap, although he didn't care enough to actually bless our host with a beat.  Weird, that.

1. DR. DRE INTRO (FEAT. DR. DRE)

The good Doctor apparently narrated The R.E.D. Album, contributing a useless rap album intro that has fuck-all to do with anything. (This isn't supposed to be a concept album or Jayceon's biography, so what the fuck was the purpose of this?) I'd like to note that, back on The Game's 2005 major label debut, Andre popped up during “Higher” to promise listeners that Detox would eventually happen. Here we are, six years later, and it still hasn't come out.

2. THE CITY (FEAT. KENDRICK LAMAR)

This moody opener (classified as such by me, thanks to the Cool & Dre instrumental) ultimately falters for a number of reasons, only a handful of which I will actually discuss right now, because I don't want to dwell too much on the negative when I still have the majority of The R.E.D. Album to listen to. First off, this song has hardly anything to do with any city, especially Compton, California: Jayceon certainly pretends that it does, but he uses the track as an excuse to justify his continued career, and his hometown only plays a peripheral role, almost as though he's looking at Compton through his rearview mirror while he's speeding the fuck away toward financial security. Secondly, The Game's vocal delivery appears to change depending on what side of the bed he woke up on that morning. Third, our host complains that critics found L.A.X. “average”, which “stressed [him] out”: that is truly a first world problem (it's not as though he lost his deal and his home in the process). Finally, blogger favorite Kendrick Lamar, who also hails from Compton, is assigned hook duty for the most part, and his contribution is both the worst chorus I've heard in a while and the most complex lyricism I've ever heard on a Game album. This is made all the more clear at the end, when the music evaporates and K. Dot's verse continues acapella: it appears that The Game and company simply trimmed Lamar's verse to suit their own selfish needs, making this collaboration sound unnatural. This probably isn't a good sign.

3. DRUG TEST (FEAT. DR. DRE, SNOOP DOGG, & SLY)

What should have been a promising guest list turns in a bizarre club-ready missive. I actually liked DJ Khalil's beat, and Jayceon himself sounds alright enough (he isn't terrible at these club songs: one of my favorite performances from him is on the aforementioned “Higher”), but Snoop is entirely wasted (possibly literally while he was recording an homage to his own “Gin & Juice”) in a short four-bar cameo, and being presented with Andre Young's current persona, that of an old man who still goes to the club, is a bit unsettling, especially when he promises to administer a drug test on a female he has his eye on, which I can only assume means that he wants to piss on her. The Sly hook is corny, but for a chorus that's all about celebrating the guys who manage to sneak drugs into the club, it could have been much worse.

4. MARTIANS VS. GOBLINS (FEAT. LIL' WAYNE & TYLER, THE CREATOR)

The 1500 or Nothin' instrumental isn't terrible: it at least fits Jayceon's vocals well. This song is a conceptual mess, though. In theory, this probably should have been a battle between the team of Lil' Wayne and Game versus Odd Future frontman Tyler, The Creator, but Weezy, who has identified himself as both a Martian and as a goblin in the past, only registers on the hook (and doesn't even bother using entire words, referring to himself as a “motherfucking marsh”), causing The Game to railroad his other invited guest. This isn't a bad thing: Tyler sounds uncomfortable, resorting to his old homophobic tricks so quickly that I couldn't wait for his verse to be over. Jayceon fares much better on his own shit, anyway, with two ridiculous verses filled with random name-drops (and a quick potshot at blogger favorite Lil' B) that will probably anger comic book nerds toward the very end (as he pairs up a certain costumed superhero with the incorrect publishing company – you'll know what I'm talking about when you hear it). I've also grown disgusted with Tyler's deep, distorted vocals that feature during the hook, as that's all I can remember hearing on the entirety of Goblin.

5. RED NATION (FEAT. LIL' WAYNE)

The first single on The R.E.D. Album that actually somewhat clicked with an audience. The Game's proclamation of dominance by the Bloods hilariously samples Zombie Nation's “Kernkraft 400”, which turns this shit into the most gangsta third period in a hockey game ever. Game's verses aren't memorable, but he sounds as confident as ever, and Lil' Tunechi provides his second hook of the evening, which is too wordy for its own good. The novelty wears off fairly quickly. I understand the official video was banned by MTV because of all of the gang imagery, but I'd like to think that Viacom suddenly developed decent taste and simply refused to air a clip for such a crappy song.

6. DR. DRE 1 (FEAT. DR. DRE)

Interlude...

7. GOOD GIRLS GO BAD (FEAT. DRAKE)

Jayceon brings a good message to the forefront (basically, he feels that you should respect women and never mistreat them), but his constant name-drops dilute the potion: the man even references Natalee Holloway, which should be proof that he has crossed a line, and yet the man continues to work. Aubrey abandons the concept entirely, which was expected (Drake isn't what we would call a “team player”), but to be fair, Game also has a short attention span, so whatever. Cool & Dre's beat sounds far more experimental than anything else they have ever produced, and I mean that as a compliment. This wasn't awful.

8. RICKY

The seemingly tacked-on final verse on “Good Girls Go Bad” leads directly into the extended sound bite from Boyz N The Hood that opens this track: the use of the clip is so egregious that I'm half surprised that The Game didn't use this as an excuse to claim that he has Ice Cube and Cuba Gooding Jr. guest-starring on The R.E.D. Album. Jayceon kicks off the DJ Khalil beat (when it eventually starts) completely off topic, talking about Dr. Dre and his tenure at Aftermath, but quickly changes course and delivers a single verse that actually lines up with the sound bite. Sort of. Some of it is a bit of a stretch, admittedly. But this wasn't awful.

9. THE GOOD, THE BAD, THE UGLY

Jayceon adopts a Biggie-esque flow (or at least his version of Shyne's impersonation of The Notorious B.I.G.) for an interesting storytelling attempt (one where he gives multiple versions of the same tale, each one more vague than the last) that proves The Game is capable of focusing on the task at hand if absolutely needed. His subdued flow fits producer Hit-Boy's “I Got A Story To Tell”-type instrumental like a glove, so even though there is actually very little to his story, it's a fascinating listen. His final bar also leads directly into the next track, so it's obvious that there was some degree of planning going in to the recording of The R.E.D. Album.

10. HEAVY ARTILLERY (FEAT. RICK ROSS & BEANIE SIGEL)

I didn't care for the Streetrunner beat and the vocal sample used as a hook at first, but it eventually grew on me in a “this was entirely serviceable” kind of way. Game manages to drop references to the two previous tracks, which would have been hilariously meta had I any inclination that he actually did that shit on purpose and didn't simply repeat himself by accident. Officer Ricky Ross handles the first verse and doesn't entirely suck (I fear his overexposure on rap radio has now convinced me that he isn't that bad of a rapper – I need to stop listening to hip hop in the car and stick with my New Wave station instead), and Game solidifies his anti-Jay-Z task force by providing the troubled Beanie Sigel with a paycheck. This wasn't terrible, but I can't imagine listening to this ever again.

11. PARAMEDICS (FEAT. YOUNG JEEZY)

So. Fucking. Boring.

12. SPEAKERS ON BLAST (FEAT. BIG BOI & E-40)

I couldn't get into this track, either. Mars's beat felt too basic for me, and it was hardly representative of anything the South could conjure up if given half a chance. The Game's first two verses were merely alright, but his hook was meh. The only decent contributions on this track come from the two guest stars, although Big Boi fares better than E-40, as he happens to actually be from the South. Methinks Keanu Reeves should bash Jayceon in the face with another phone book as punishment for creating a song that is so goddamn condescending.

13. HELLO (FEAT. LLOYD)

I've never liked R&B crooner Lloyd's voice: it never seems to fit the music he chooses to perform over, such as this generic beat on what is, sadly, not a cover of the Lionel Richie classic, nor is it one of that goofy Poe song from the late 1990s. Even though Lloyd drops ad-libs throughout, it's impossible to hide the fact that his hook has fuck-all to do with Game's love rap, which either contains a dig at Kreayshawn or confirms that his lady is Kreayshawn (“All her friends wearing Gucci so she don't rock it no more”). Hmm. Anyway, “Hello” seems to be Game's way of telling his favorite bitch that he will spoil the shit out of her, almost as though this is what he thinks a radio-friendly Jay-Z single sounds like. Fairly execrable, and the reason the 'skip' button was invented.

14. ALL THE WAY GONE (FEAT. MARIO & WALE)

So apparently the second half of The R.E.D. Album is where Game is hiding all of his forced, unnatural R&B collaborations. This Don Cannon/Mars-produced piffle is Jayceon's ode to a lady friend whose vagina he is particularly fond of, and it sounds pretty bad, given that the underlying music is dull as shit. R&B crooner Mario also sounds bland. The only saving grace on here is Rick Ross's newest employee Wale, who attempts to insert some cleverness into a track that won't accommodate it.

15. POT OF GOLD (FEAT. CHRIS BROWN)

Chris Brown is a fucking clown who doesn't deserve all of the attention he's been receiving as of late. His striking (and biting) a fellow artist (one who was his then-girlfriend, at that) shouldn't lead to renewed interest in his career (I blame the media for this turnaround), and every single motherfucking rapper who chooses to work alongside him today is helping to validate this immature cocksucker's life choices. Everyone may deserve a second chance, but fuck that guy. His chorus on here sucks, too: it's all about, “Boo hoo, I'm so famous, I wish my life was the way it used to be, but then I wouldn't be so famous”, which makes it hard for anyone except for The Game's celebrity friends to actually relate. Jayceon's radio-friendly performance isn't bad, though, and The Futuristics's sweeping production seems destined to be played in either a young-adult romance movie trailer or a commercial for a new show on the CW.

16. DR. DRE 2 (FEAT. DR. DRE)

Interlude...

17. ALL I KNOW

And this is what The Game thinks an introspective Jay-Z song (like, say, something from The Blueprint – the original, not the inferior sequels) sounds like. Boi-1da's instrumental isn't bad, but the hook certainly doesn't help ease the comparison. Jayceon goes on one of his typical rants, one which involves a metric ton of name-dropping and passing the blame around, but to be fair, he does sound in his wheelhouse whenever he does that. Unfortunately, our host has never been able to convert his references into anything resembling substance.

18. BORN IN THE TRAP

Since Dr. Dre refused to really produce anything on The R.E.D. Album, and since Pharrell Williams working by himself (which happens later in the program) doesn't count as a Neptunes production, hip hop legend DJ Premier is, by default, the most important producer on this project, and he doesn't disappoint, delivering a healthy dose of boom bap to an album already on life support as it is. Game steps up to the challenge, as well: the name drops are a bit much, and I was surprised that he elected to handle his own chorus instead of going with one of Primo's trademarked hooks made up of scratched-in vocal samples, but “Born In The Trap” is still easily the best song on this project. By far. And I acknowledge that I'm not even done listening to the full album yet.

19. MAMA KNOWS (FEAT. NELLY FURTADO)

I have no problem with Nelly Furtado. I like The Neptunes as a production team (Pharrell by himself, not so much). And if I absolutely hated The Game, I wouldn't have focused on his career for this long on the blog. But this shit? What did I do to deserve this shit? Because I'm sorry. I really am.

20. CALIFORNIA DREAM

Jayceon ends his contribution to The R.E.D. Album with a song dedicated to his newborn daughter, and the last couple of minutes are used to play what I think is supposed to be actual audio from the delivery room. Either that, or The Game has mastered the art of the Prince Paul-esque skit. An interesting way to end things, I guess. It also helps that, as a song, this isn't terrible, since Game is capable of spinning quite a compelling tale when he focuses on what he's doing, which, unfortunately, doesn't happen very often.

21. DR. DRE OUTRO (FEAT. DR. DRE)

And we're (finally) done.

Depending on where you picked up The R.E.D. Album, your copy may include one or two bonus tracks. My library apparently doesn't shop at f.y.e., so the write-up ends here.

THE LAST WORD: Game's The R.E.D. Album may have been highly anticipated, but what Jayceon Taylor delivers is a muddled, overlong mess. Production-wise, this shit is all over the map, with most of it not really sticking to your bones. Lyrically, however, it's rather consistent, and by “consistent”, I mean that Jayceon's penchant for dropping more names than Joseph McCarthy hasn't lost a step. Unfortunately for the man, nothing on The R.E.D. Album stands out as anything remotely “classic”, regardless of what all of Game's stans are claiming on the Interweb.  (Not even the Primo-produced “Born In The Trap” qualifies, as it ends up sounding more like an anomaly than anything Jayceon put actual effort into.) The Game is actually pretty good behind the mic, and when given something great to work with, he transcends his pop culture-spouting gangsta rapper roots to become something more, but The R.E.D. Album is boring as fuck. It's little wonder why this baby was pushed back so many times: nothing on here will have any kind of shelf life after this sentence. However, “Born In The Trap” has convinced me that Jayceon needs to pony up the big bucks to get all A-list backing the next time around: at least that way he may succeed in wooing the hip hop heads back. You should skip this shit and listen to the first half of The Documentary again.

-Max

RELATED POSTS:

Catch up on The Game by clicking here.

My Gut Reaction: KiD CuDi - Man On The Moon II: The Legend Of Mr. Rager (November 9, 2010)

My exercise in self-hatred continues today with my review for the second and most recent album in Scott Mescudi's catalog, the awkwardly titled Man On The Moon II: The Legend of Mr. Rager.  It was released a year after his debut, and it found our host in a much more successful position, thanks to the massive sales of Man On The Moon: The End of Day, his endorsement deals, and his acting gig on HBO.

KiD CuDi will always be a divisive figure in our chosen genre, I've decided, and that will remain true as long as he chooses to remain in our genre, which probably won't be for much longer: shortly after completing this project, he formed a rock band, 2 Be Continuum (formerly Wizard), and announced plans to essentially stop rapping without ever really saying that he would stop rapping (indeed, Man On The Moon III is apparently still in the works.  Yippee!).

This is an awful lot of work from a guy who declared that he was ready to retire right before his debut ever hit store shelves.  Then again, that could have easily been a publicity stunt intended for his audience to snatch up every copy of Man On The Moon: The End of Day as soon as possible, so as to help convince today's host to not give up so easily.  That's how I choose to see KiD CuDi: as a cold, calculating dick who would probably be a nice guy in real life (in the way that a lot of stoners are decent-enough guys) but an asshole to actually work with.  

Maybe that's just me.

Speaking of cold and calculating, Man On The Moon II: The Legend of Mr. Rager, Mescudi's sophomore album, follows a similar five-act structure as his debut, as the audience is supposed to pretend that this project is a loosely-formed concept album that has no linear storyline but wants you to think it does, lest you believe it to be yet another random collection of songs that every other artist unleashes annually.  While it hasn't sold as well as its predecessor, it has still managed to move more than four hundred thousand units, which in 2011 measurements means that Scott Mescudi has sold eighty-seven million copies.

ACT I: THE WORLD I AM RULING

1. SCOTT MESCUDI VS. THE WORLD (FEAT. CEE-LO GREEN)

I wasn't a fan of the movie Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World. I usually love anything director Edgar Wright does, and he took Bryan Lee O'Malley's original graphic novel to many glorious visual heights, but my issue was with the main character: Scott Pilgrim simply came off as a homicidal dick who abused his girlfriend and mistreated everyone in his band, all in the quest for an allegedly greener pussy pasture. I found it extremely hard to root for him when he acted like such a singularly-minded douchebag. So of course CuDi chose that story to identify with, as he oftentimes comes across as a dick who is extraordinarily difficult to root for. Even with The Voice's Cee-Lo Green in tow on hook duty, Scott fails to so anything on this opening track that makes me give even one iota of a fuck. (Side note: my dislike of the film has nothing to do with the actors involved, although, completely unrelated, I've always thought that Jason Schwartzman was the type of guy who would be an asshole in real life. Prove me wrong, Max Fischer. Still love Rushmore, though.)

2. REVOFEV

I enjoyed Plain Pat and Mike Dean's funky, dusty beat at first, before I realized that it never deviates from its original four measures for the entire duration of the track, so now I'm just frustrated. CuDi delivers the same four bars over and over again, no like bearing any relation to the last, calling for a revolution that isn't ever explained. (“REVOFEV” stands for “Revolution of Evolution”, which was the original name for this sophomore project.) Maybe CuDi actually has a point, I don't know, but when listening to a song, it's impossible to hear what the artist is fucking thinking in their mind. You know, 'Ye is even more pretentious than KiD CuDi, but at least he makes interesting music most of the time. Do not pass “Go”, do not collect $200.

ACT II: A STRONGER TRIP

3. DON'T PLAY THIS SONG (FEAT. MARY J. BLIGE)

Having failed to ignite a revolution on the last track, CuDi angrily lashes out at the listener, demanding that they not listen to this song. Okay, I'm just kidding: this song is full of much more bullshit than just that. Scott attempts to justify his depression (which he still suffers from even with his endorsement money and HBO paychecks) and tells people that their advice isn't helpful in the least bit. Somehow he even roped Mary J. Blige into this bizarre opposite world, one where people who care about their loved ones stand idly by while they destroy themselves from the inside out. Actually, that last sentence is deeper than this song fucking deserves. If this is how CuDi allegedly sounds when he's not on drugs, then I would advise him to get back in touch with his dealer immediately.

4. WE AITE (WAKE YOUR MIND UP)

This isn't really a song, and it's too long to be an interlude. Just what the fuck was this supposed to be? Aside from a bathroom break, obviously.

5. MARIJUANA

Judging from the song titles on Man On The Moon II: The Legend of Mr. Rager, “Marijuana” is the first of two separate odes to the sticky icky, and although it isn't all that great, this is the first song on the project where CuDi hasn't entirely annoyed me. Most of the credit for the “success” of this song goes to the beat (co-produced by CuDi), which supplies our host with a fairly interesting musical backdrop that you don't have to be high to enjoy. It still sounds as subdued and muted as all of the other beats on here thus far, but there seems to be more heart on here. CuDi's singing voice is what it is, but considering he was probably baked when he recorded this shit, I'll let the fact that he's singing to his bag of weed as though it were his lover slide.

6. MOJO SO DOPE

This is your average “we live this shit”-type rap song, the kind where the artist tries to prove to the audience that the lifestyle they represent on wax mirrors what they actually do on a day-to-day basis. (I'm not sure what CuDi is trying to prove, exactly: other than being mildly famous and having a show on HBO, his day-to-day probably lines up with what most of you two do all the time, in that he likes to smoke, drink, and fuck.) The hook on here is pretty fucking stupid, too. But here's the conflicting part of my review: I actually liked this song. Emile's instrumental sounded dark and melodic, CuDi's verses were decent enough, and that fucking stupid hook I mentioned earlier? Extremely fun to repeat out loud. Sue me.

ACT III: PARTY ON

7. ASHIN' KUSHER

This would be the other ode to Mary Jane, and not a song clearly dedicated to the new star of Two and a Half Men. This track was actually released to a single to radio: I'm not sure why, as it isn't very good. Chuck Inglish (see, I told you The Cool Kids keep popping up on the site) lends an instrumental which is a repetitive bore, and CuDi never seems to know exactly what to do with it. He resorts to typical rapper braggadocio, which isn't a crime, but there wasn't anything about this beat that would naturally lend itself to such bombast. Maybe while he's walking around zonin', CuDi should try to write a better goddamn song.

8. ERASE ME (FEAT. KANYE WEST)

After listening to “Erase Me”, CuDi's impersonation of a Weezer song from the era of The Blue Album, I'm not surprised that he's more interested in rock music than he is hip hop at the moment. Is it possible for a song to sound both technically proficient and lazy as fuck? Because that's what Scott manages to pull off on here: his flat singing voice isn't awful, but there is no actual emotion to be found in his voice, and sounding apathetic doesn't work if you're longing for a lost love. Rivers Cuomo this dude is not. Then again, Rivers Cuomo probably couldn't score a random cameo from CuDi's boss Kanye West, but given 'Ye's terrible contribution (which ends on a joke about shit), why would he even want that? Meh.

9. WILD'N CUZ I'M YOUNG

I think this might have been a single, too, which makes sense, since the ridiculous hook shares similarities to, oddly, Cali Swag District's “Teach me How To Dougie”. Beat-wise, Plain Pat and Emile's work is simple enough to sound pleasant, but you wouldn't want to play it on an endless loop or anything. Lyrically, CuDi won't ever be a beast behind the mic: the fact that he's apparently sic of hip hop and has formed a rock group instead pretty much confirms that he won't be practicing his bars anytime soon. But he doesn't sound bad on here, just disaffected. A word to the wise: there is a difference between actually expressing the pain you're in and just saying variations on the phrase, “you don't know my pain”, over and over again. True fact.

10. THE MOOD

This isn't much of a rap song, but our host does rap on it, so there's that. The beat, from Emile and No I.D., worked well for me, thanks to its claustrophobic melody and the creepy-as-fuck sampled laughter. “The Mood” is the very first time I've heard something from KiD CuDi that could potentially justify why Kanye West has so much goddamn faith in him: this track is interesting in a way that the rest of his catalog could never be. I don't want to hear an album full of “The Mood” clones, but this darker excursion into his state of mind clicks, and that's all that should matter.

ACT IV: THE TRANSFORMATION

11. MANIAC (FEAT. CAGE & ST. VINCENT)

Singer-songwriter St. Vincent earns the prize for most unexpected guest star on what is still ostensibly a hip hop album, although, for all the praise this collaboration received, she barely registers: her contribution amounts to little more than a vocal sample taken from her “The Strangers”. I was initially intrigued by underground stalwart Cage's guest appearance when I first read about this track, because the only mainstream artist (although not so much so at the time, granted) to have ever acknowledged his existence was fellow white rapper Eminem, and they fucking hated each other (back in the day, they were two white boys in a predominantly African-American culture, and there could be only one), but all of that curiosity subsided when I actually listened to the song, which isn't nearly as dark and psychopathic as either CuDi or Cage had hoped. The beat was unorthodox, yes, but that doesn't mean that it was any good. I may still watch the Shia LeBeouf-directed video whenever it actually drops, though. At least the once, anyway: they're promising a horror movie, and I like horror movies, so we'll see.

12. MR. RAGER

Oh God, this album is still on? Shit. CuDI devotes yet another track to one of his aliases (see: Man On The Moon: The End of Day's “Mr. Solo Dolo”), choosing to sing the shit out of his words over this beat, which actually sounds pretty good. Our host's vocals pair up with the instrumental pretty well, so even though the man is talking about less than nothing on here (CuDi hasn't yet mastered the concept of sounding “deep”), the song is at least entertaining enough to not immediately skip.

13. THESE WORRIES (FEAT. MARY J. BLIGE)

CuDi drags Mary J. Blige out of the box he's keeping her in to embarrass her for a second time on Man On The Moon II: The Legend of Mr. Rager, although at least this time she seems to channel actual emotion, as opposed to telling people to not play the fucking song. It's become increasingly harder for me to listen to Scott's whining about his “worries” and proclamations of being “deep” without donning a blank sarcastic stare. Am I alone in this? Am I the only guy who sees no difference between KiD CuDi's “artistry” and his overall pretentious attitude? Anyone? Bueller?

14. THE END (FEAT. GLC, CHIP THA RIPPER, & NIKKI WRAY)

Because this song contains some actual rapping over a dope Blended Babies (gotta love that name) instrumental, I was convinced that my iPod had suddenly switched to an entirely different playlist. But no, this is actually CuDi's song, a posse cut featuring his boy Chip Tha Ripper and one of Kanye West's oldest protégées GLC, who really deserves to get more work, since he sounds phenomenal on here. Chip even sounds really good. “The End” takes its inevitable dive when Scott decides to contribute a wack-as-fuck verse, which simply proves that his rock star leanings may be a good idea if it promises to keep him the hell away from other rappers. Also, bizarro guest star Nicole Nikki Wray (bizarro because of her connection to Ski Beatz's camp) lends a hook that sounds just fucking obnoxious. But at least the beat and the other guest stars aced this exam.

ACT V: YOU LIVE & YOU LEARN

15. ALL ALONG

I was kind of hoping that this entire experience had been a dream all along, and that I'm just somehow writing in my sleep, but no, KiD CuDi's emo horseshit on here is all to real. Seriously, motherfucker, you've lucked out: you get to write and record music for a living. You don't need to have a real job. You should fucking appreciate that shit, because all it's going to take is everyone losing interest in you, and then this will all end. You can at least sound like you're enjoying yourself a little bit.

16. GHOST!

Scott gets his Andre 3000 on over a Emile / Ken Lewis / No I.D. instrumental that I'm fairly certain would have accommodated a guest appearance from Ice Cold himself had he not flatly denied CuDi's request to work together. (That move actually makes me like Andre Benjamin even more.) The Freak Scene sample that plays throughout sounds alright at first, but it grates on your subconscious after a while, and our host's singing doesn't help matters any. Everyone wanders through life feeling invisible at some point, Cudi: most of us just don't write bullshit songs about it.

17. TRAPPED IN MY MIND

(In the singing voice of Comic Book Guy from The Simpsons): “I am deep / Much deeper than you / Hibbert!”

THE LAST WORD: I've never wanted to shoot myself in the face after listening to an album before. And I still don't: not only would that be an indicator that I was taking music far too seriously (it's intended for entertainment purposes only, people! Entertainment!), it would also give KiD CuDi far too much credit for producing what he believes to be “art”. Man On The Moon II: The Legend of Mr. Rager is a joyless creation that only seems to exist because Scott Mescudi hates you and everything you stand for. Yeah, you, with the douchey hair and the smile on your face as though you're happy to be alive and shit. There is even less to like on Man On The Moon II: The Legend of Mr. Rager than there was on his debut, and that's saying a lot. CuDi seems to think that the hip hop audience gives a fuck about his pain, but the problem is that he's so enigmatic and myopic that he never manages to ever tell the audience exactly what it is that bothers him: this makes it extraordinarily challenging for any listener to relate. It's not the depression that bothers me: I listen to sad bastard music all the goddamn time. (Have you ever really listened to the lyrics on most New Wave songs?) But Scott's assholic tendencies detract from the overall effect presented on Man On The Moon II: The Legend of Mr. Rager, which is otherwise a slickly-produced pop album that will never actually become popular, with a couple of tracks that sound decent enough to warrant paying closer attention. Just to the songs, though: unless KiD CuDi really wows me with his rock band, it's virtually impossible for me to picture myself still giving half a shit.

-Max

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