Drink Coasters: Rakim - The 18th Letter (November 4, 1997)

I'm expecting some pretty harsh commentary following the publishing of this post, but even the most hardcore hip hop head, one that has been listening to this great art form ever since the time of Kool Herc and the Sugarhill Gang, has to realize that Rakim, in my opinion the best rapper ever, put out a pretty shitty solo album here.

The 18th Letter was released by megahyperconglomerate Universal Records a full five years after legendary producer/emcee duo Eric B. and Rakim released their final album together, Don't Sweat The Technique. Back in 1992, both artists expressed interest in recording solo albums, but ultimately their deals (and their partnership) went sour. Rakim Allah spent his five-year hiatus laying low, ostensibly to let label problems work themselves out, only popping up on fellow New York disciples Mobb Deep's title track to the Hoodlum soundtrack (a song that was pretty damn good, I must say). That guest spot both introduced him to a brand new audience and caught the attention of die-hard fans, those that still rock to "Paid In Full" and "Eric B. Is President" to this day.

The short version of my The 18th Letter review is that, while he may be the best rapper alive (because he pretty much invented the rhyme styles of today, and is still good with his), he's pretty much in cruise control on this disc. The album is constructed around an interview that Rakim seems to be doing with absolutely nobody, explaining why he went solo and why he took so long to release his album. Out of the twelve actual songs featured here, one is a remix, one is an alternate take on the first single "Guess Who's Back", and the other ten just aren't any good.

Rakim certainly has the clout to bring the best producers in hip hop together; however, he only pulls in Pete Rock, DJ Premier, and Clark Kent on the name-brand tip. Peter Q. Rock's "The Saga Begins" features a lazy beat built around some (admittedly compelling) keys and a drum kit, and is probably the best song on here. "When I'm Flowin'", conversely, is probably the worst PR beat I've ever heard in my life. Primo doesn't fare much better, as both of his contributions, "It's Been A Long Time" and "New York (Ya Out There)", feature bargain-basement Primo tracks with lazy Rakim lyrics that he probably came up with on the drive to the studio. (For the best Primo/Rakim collaboration, I invite you to check out his second, equally-shitty solo album The Master, which I will not review because I don't own it anymore. Their work together on "Waiting For The World To End" is better than every single song on this album combined.)

DJ Clark Kent provides four songs for Rakim's comeback, including the first single "Guess Who's Back", which is passable, but the rest of his contributions aren't memorable or worth listening to. And the songs that the name producers had nothing to do with, such as "Show Me Love" and "Mystery (Who Is God?)" (produced by Naughty Shorts, the worst producer name in history), will cause you to apply pressure to the sides of your head in an effort to ease the pounding headache that wasn't there but three minutes ago.

The sequencing on the album is also all wrong. (Apparently Rakim's A&R was too busy mountain climbing with his electric guitar to pay any attention to The 18th Letter.) The Suave House remix to "It's Been A Long Time" is unnecessary, inappropriate, and embarrassing; was Suave House even an industry force in 1997? Were they even that popular at this point, besides maybe Eightball and MJG? (And Tela. I remember liking Tela back in the day.) And the 'Alternative Mix' to "Guess Who's Back" would have been better off in the Universal vaults; the inclusion of these two songs is proof positive that Rakim didn't record enough material to warrant any sort of album release, so it needed to be padded like a pillow-top mattress. Also, these two tracks are at the end of the disc, but are followed by the outro; shouldn't they have been pushed to the very end as bonus tracks? The sequence of this disc may be horrible at best, but having these two tracks tacked on is beating a dead horse.

I commend Rakim for creating an album in 1997 that was relatively clean; you could listen to The 18th Letter with your grandmother during Matlock. It's too bad that the best use for this disc is to hold your Bubble Tape when you happen to have lost the canister. Rakim Allah should have remained in the shadows and popped up for cameos on more albums before attempting the comeback special. Avoid this one at all costs.

Actually, I take that back. In a HHID first, I'm about to recommend a Drink Coaster of an album, but not because of the disc itself, which is still completely fucking terrible. In 1997, the first pressing of The 18th Letter was released as a two-disc set, titles The 18th Letter/The Book of Life. The Book Of Life was the second disc, and it is fifteen tracks of the best of Eric B. and Rakim, as a way to get acclimated into the vocal style of Rakim. (This practice isn't unheard of: EPMD's last album to date, Out Of Business, came with a bonus CD of their greatest hits as well.) The second disc includes some of my favorites as "Know The Ledge" and "Let The Rhythm Hit 'Em"; in fact, the only track I had to hunt down was the "Paid In Full (Coldcut Mix)" (although the original version is preserved for your listening pleasure here). I'm not exactly sure how the legalities of having these songs attached to a Rakim album occurred, but I don't give a fuck; the second disc is the best primer to Eric B. and Rakim out there today, and if you must ignore the above paragraphs and pick up The 18th Letter, you had better pick up the double disc version, so that your disappointment will be cut by half.

-Max