My Gut Reaction: Curren$y - Pilot Talk (July 13, 2010)

Since the fourth quarter of 2010 found HHID giving the spotlight to two separate (but very similar) Ski Beatz projects, it makes sense that I would eventually get to this series.  (The numerous requests for me to do so also helped.)  Especially since this particular album has been the recipient of some rather high praise: aside from every other hip hop blogger in the known universe that isn't me, Curren$y's Pilot Talk was named one of the twenty best albums of 2010 by Entertainment Weekly.  Not one of the twenty best hip hop albums, but one of the best albums.  While Entertainment Weekly is hardly anybody's go-to reference for rap journalism, that type of endorsement is pretty hard to ignore.

First, some background.  Curren$y, real name Shante Franklin, is a New Orleans-based pothead who has been shuffled through enough record label deals to fill three lifetimes.  Although he comes across as a relatively new artist, he's been in the game for more than a decade, starting the beginning of the millennium with Master P's No Limit Records, jumping ship to the other New Orleans-based label, Cash Money, five years later.  In an alternate timeline, Curren$y would still be a part of Lil' Wayne's merry band of Young Money Losers featuring Drake (which is probably what that crew should really bill themselves as at shows), but as Spitta happens to be the worst kind of stoner (the impatient kind), he elected to jump ship without having released an album.  

He landed over at Amalgam Digital, where he managed to drop a couple of albums, This Ain't No Mixtape and Jet Files (obviously Curren$y is heavy into the concept of being airborne, and possibly not just because of the weed), after unleashing a few well-received mixtapes.  In 2010, Curren$y hooked up with North Carolina-based producer Ski Beatz, who was in full comeback mode, having established his 24 Hour Karate School artist collective and connecting with Damon Dash for a distribution deal through his DD172 imprint.  The combination proved fruitful: Curren$y's third album Pilot Talk was released in July, and a follow-up, conveniently titled Pilot Talk II, both of which were primarily produced by Ski, hit stores later that same year.  

For whatever reason, I have been able to avoid Curren$y's onslaught of tracks leaked to hip hop blogs.  Oh, I've seen them, but I haven't cared enough to listen to them.  Until now, I suppose.  My first exposure to Spitta's work ethic was on Ski's 24 Hour Karate School compilation, but I can't remember a single thing about any of his bars, so he must not have made much of an impression on me.  So for all intents and purposes, Pilot Talk is basically my introduction to the guy.

Pilot Talk centers mainly on Spitta's favorite topic, marijuana, which you could probably figure out just by looking at the lush album cover art above.  Perhaps unconvinced that a man could kick rhymes about weed alone, Ski loaded Pilot Talk with ringers from the industry, including newcomers Jay Electronics, Big K.R.I.T., and his boy Stalley, alongside veteran acts such as Devin the Dude, Mos Def (who was still a part of the collective at this point), and Snoop Dogg.  Ski Beatz handles most of the instrumentals, while ceding some tracks to others, including Curren$y's friend Monsta Beatz (who handled a lot of his older material) and Mos Def himself (although Ski took it upon himself to redo the entire song The Mighty Mos offered up - perhaps this was one of the many straws that broke the camel's back, in hindsight.)

Today, let's look at Pilot Talk and see what the big fucking deal is.  My next post will cover Pilot Talk II.  (I don't usually give away upcoming posts, but I figured that last statement may help discourage you two from requesting a Pilot Talk II review in the comments below.)

1. EXAMPLE

Pilot Talk kicks off with what I assume is supposed to be an “Example” of what Curren$y is capable of doing behind the mic. I'm thankful that he didn't go the traditional rap album intro route (although, technically, that is what this track is supposed to be), electing to spit a single verse instead, but Ski's instrumental is despondent, not earning the audience's full attention in the least bit, and as a result, Shante sounds fairly dull and uninspired. Given what the man was actually saying, I have no proof that these bars wouldn't have sounded exactly the same against any other backdrop, though, so everyone's a loser here.

2. AUDIO DOPE II

This is a much better representation of what Spitta can do. Ski's beat is a loop set on repeat, never adjusting itself for any reason (which makes the chorus sound like an extension of the verses, resulting in “Audio Dope II” sounding like one long, unbroken performance), but it matches Curren$y's energy level, that of a stoner who also happens to rap (one who is “so high, my neighbors thought I moved out, because ya boy is gone”). Although this track has got to qualify as the motherfucking laziest rap song-as-drug metaphor (side note: it isn't really a metaphor when the comparison is so goddamn obvious), it suits our host's strengths, and his New Orleans drawl is at its most appealing on here. Man, I hope this isn't the best Pilot Talk has to offer, though.

3. KING KONG

Credit where credit is due: Shante appears to have actually watched the movie Training Day, as opposed to simply viewing the trailer on YouTube, as he actually recites Denzel Washington's dialogue correctly (as opposed to using the cleaned-up-for-general-audiences “King Kong ain't got nothing on me!” from the trailer that other rappers have used). Which probably also means that he's had the opportunity to take in the beauty that is Eva Mendes, although that has absolutely nothing to do with this song or this write-up. However, this track was still boring as shit. The combination of Ski's Sisyphean chore of a beat and Spitta's narcoleptic flow (the weed makes him sound sleepier than Raekwon after his daily regiment of horse tranquilizers and ice cream) turns this song into more of a bother than anything else.

4. SEAT CHANGE (FEAT. SNOOP DOGG & MCKENZIE EDDY)

Our host seems to be sticking with instrumentals that sound like aural equivalents of being zoned out, so at least the man is consistent. The Ski beat on here was annoying at first, as my impatience was getting the better of me (clearly I have not smoked out before writing this review), but once I figured out what Shante was trying to do, I cut him some slack. However, teaming up with hip hop's biggest stoner might have been a misstep: Snoop Dogg doesn't sound nearly as fucked up as Curren$y, and he's been smoking weed for so long that he can fail a drug test my merely being, so now I'm not sure what I think of Shante's insistence on a slower cadence. Maybe I shouldn't let it get to me so much. This song wasn't great by any means, but it also wasn't terrible.

5. BREAKFAST (FEAT. MOS DEF)

Okay, I spoke too soon about the beats: “Breakfast” contains a Mos Def (heard through the remix filter of Ski Beatz, as this is apparently not the original version) instrumental that has much more energy than the previous four tracks on Pilot Talk combined. And it's fucking good. Although I was hoping for a discussion regarding how pot can make even the IHOP breakfast menu taste like pure uncut heaven, what I received instead was a day in the life of Curren$y, who tosses in some clever wordplay in between fucking his side piece and downloading an updated NBA roster onto his Xbox 360, because stoners give a damn about accuracy. Dante even pops up at the end to croon his own version of Joe Esposito's “You're The Best”, which was specifically written as music to be used for montage sequences in 1980s movies, specifically the ones built around training for a sport over a period of time ranging from twenty-four hours to one week. True fact.

6. ROASTED (FEAT. TRADEMARK DA SKYDIVER & YOUNG RODDY)

I'm just as surprised as you two are to be writing this next statement, but here we are: this posse cut was really fucking good. I blame Monsta Beatz's hypnotic instrumental, which sucked me in and somehow helped me remember what I loved about hip hop in the first place. The lyrics on here are all inconsequential, but Spitta and his weed carriers sound so great over this beat that it almost doesn't even matter. The hook is a bit too wordy for my tastes, so “Roasted” isn't a perfect song (not even close, really), but I really enjoyed it, and I'm completely clear-headed right now: just imagine how this shit would sound if you were high.

7. SKYBOURNE (FEAT. BIG K.R.I.T. & SMOKE DZA)

And on the other side of the fence lies this collaborative effort, which isn't really bad as much as it comes nowhere close to comparing with the likes of “Roasted”, although it, like every single track on Pilot Talk, is about the exact same thing. Lyrically, “Skybourne” is an upgrade to the previous track, with Curren$y's weed carriers having been replaced by two better-known (in blog circles, anyway) artists, but the Ski Beatz instrumental is what killed this song for me, as it sounds too much like a Sunday afternoon drive home from church to ever truly be effective as a posse cut. Oh well.

8. THE HANGOVER (FEAT. MIKEY ROCKS)

This song, which has nothing and everything to do with the hit movie of the same name, wouldn't have been so bad had it not been for guest star Mikey Rocks, who sounds so uncomfortably awkward over this Ski beat that he brings the track to a complete halt, barely staying on rhythm and fucking up the respective highs of most anybody who is actually still listening. It's kind of like watching David Brent try to kick a verse. Our host does a decent job over the instrumental, which sounds nothing like how it feels to wake up hung over (for that type of feeling, one might have to look outside of the hip hop genre, since hard drums only exacerbate the headache), but his efforts are diffused by a poorly-selected guest star that fucks everything up. It is what it is.

9. THE DAY (FEAT. MOS DEF & JAY ELECTRONICA)

Mos Def returns to provide a much more vocal contribution than he did on “Breakfast”, lending our host a wordy hook that was written out before Dante defected from Ski's 24 Hour Karate School collective for the commercially safer harbors of Kanye West's G.O.O.D. Music instead. Curren$y and his hometown peer Jay Electronica handle verse duties, and both men sound in their element, said element being blunted hip hop, but the instrumental leaves a lot to be desired, especially because we all know that he's capable of much better work. Does anybody actually think that Jay's signing with Hova's Roc Nation imprint will actually result in a debut album being released anytime soon? Anyone? Bueller?

10. PRIORITIZE (BEEPER BILL) (FEAT. NESBY PHIPS)

This was a step back in the right direction. The Nesby Phips low-key instrumental will induce heads to nod: it actually reminded me of the more melodic Souls Of Mischief instrumentals circa 1993, and the rappers take to it like second nature. The hook tries to cram far too many words into a short block of time, but it's redeemed by the simple phrase, “Pay your beeper bill, bitch!”, which is just funny. Curren$y is at his best when his backing music actually sounds like something that would relax you enough to get stoned in the first place (save for “Breakfast”, which sounds like an anomaly at this point): one wonders just how much longer he will have to wait for a chance at a DJ Muggs-produced collaborative album.

11. CHILLED COUGHPEE (FEAT. DEVIN THE DUDE)

Ski's beat is much better suited for guest stoner Devin the Dude, who has been steadily chalking up cameo spots with a diverse array of rappers (such as J-Zone and Dr. Dre) for several years now. As was expected, Devin thrives in this playful environment, as his bars attempt to match the stream-of-consciousness way his own mind operates, while Curren$y flounders just a bit. So yeah, this shit didn't really work for him, but hey, at least it was short?

12. ADDRESS (FEAT. STALLEY)

Two of Ski's protégées, Curren$y and Stalley (he of the beard that is more vanglorious than Freeway's), tackle “Address”, so it's only appropriate that he gives them his best production effort on all of Pilot Talk. The hook is ass, but everything else about this song clicks, with Stalley impressing the audience with his casual flow, while Shante spits first and asks questions later. The beat even sounds like it incorporates the sound of a Mac booting up. I know that isn't the case, but it would have been kind of funny, anyway.

13. LIFE UNDER THE SCOPE

Curren$y ends Pilot Talk as a self-aware rapper who is convinced that everyone wants to see him fail. While it's hard for me to believe that anybody outside of a select few bloggers could give enough of a fuck as to whether Shante succeeds or not, I appreciated the fact that he finally switched up his subject matter, if only for a single track. Sadly, Ski's beat undermines the entire affair by not sounding remorseful nor celebratory, so I'm not even sure how I'm supposed to feel about our host right now. Aside from the fact that this ending could have been much better, of course.

THE LAST WORD: Although Curren$y's Pilot Talk is hardly the most awesome album in the history of ever, with its multiple production missteps, it still manages to be a consistently entertaining block of music. Shante's lackadaisical flow occasionally has problems connecting with the audience (especially when he smokes a bowl and gazes into his own navel), but his hunger and his way with words winds out more often than not. He even manages to hold his own against some name-brand guest stars, keeping up with the pace of Jay Electronica and, to a much lesser extent, Snoop Dogg, all while running circles around his weed carriers, which is the natural order of things, as you two know. Music-wise, Pilot Talk is a bit of a disappointment after having heard Ski's 24 Hour Karate School first, but just because the beats aren't as hard-hitting as I would like doesn't mean that they don't work for Curren$y, who does his best with what he's been given. I wouldn't rank this as one of the finest efforts of the past year, but I enjoyed it overall, and would recommend Pilot Talk to hip hop heads weary of the norm in our chosen genre.

-Max

100 Calorie Gut Reactions: Wu Wednesdays Edition

Before last year, there were two categories of rap artists who were giving away their music online: underground cats trying to build their fanbase beyond a cult following (read: Crooked I), and complete unknowns who were looking for any type of exposure they could get.  The quality of these releases varied wildly, at least among the rookies, most of whom didn't make it past their first test and faded into less than obscurity.  As for those underground acts, their giveaways could be considered "homages" at best and "plagarism" at worst, as they usually elected to rhyme over whatever previously utilized beat was popular at the time: by doing this, they essentially guaranteed that they would not be able to make any sort of income from their work, as they couldn't legally sell it without paying for the samples, which would be cost-prohibitive for someone in their position.

In 2010, Kanye West changed this by offering free music every week during his G.O.O.D. Fridays series, which was created ostensibly to promote his album My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy but ended up causing a commotion on their own.  Never before had a mainstream artist, a producer no less, offered brand new original music, featuring tons of name-brand guest stars and actual cleared samples, free of charge.  This series was so popular that it generated publicity of its own, and the reaction to some of the tracks caused Kanye to replace songs earmarked for his album with some of the actual G.O.O.D. Friday tracks (I personally still believe that "Monster" would have worked better as a bonus track, but that motherfucker has already sold over one million copies of the album, so he doesn't need my help).

It was only a matter of time before other A-list producers jumped on the bandwagon, giving away free shit in return for, hopefully, a tenth of the publicity and the sales their peer Yeezy saw.  Swizz Beatz took over Mondays, polluting his Twitter feed at the beginning of each workweek with whatever the fuck he calls music (I haven't paid attention to a single one of his releases, sorry).  Timbaland, who allegedly gave up on hip hop long ago but keeps getting pulled back in for some reason, announced Timbo Thursdays, a series I'm much more interested in but haven't been keeping up with. 

But the guy who surprised me the most was The RZA, the Wu-Tang Clan leader-slash-film director-slash-probably the reason the Wu is so disjointed these days-slash-producer and a recipient of some residual Kanye West love (as he was featured, albeit briefly, on 'Ye's "So Appalled").  Late in 2010, the artist formerly known as Prince Rakeem announced Wu Wednesdays, during which he would replace his weekly quotes, drawn from the likes of Ghandi and Japanese proverbs, with actual songs from his vaults.  Anytime an unreleased Wu-Tang Clan song is just given away from one of the principal players, I'm there, so I was pretty excited.

The free music wave didn't seem to last long, though, only taking up the last quarter of 2010.  The following list consists of every track Robert Diggs unleashed before the New Year, at which point he switched back to his regularly scheduled programming of proverbs and, oddly, a Kickstarter video in which his boy Kinetic 9 is asking fans for the funds to help him complete his debut solo album.  That entry, where any monetary donation can result in free music from Kinetic, along with nearly every song listed below, can be found by clicking here.

GONE (DEDICATED TO SALLY MENKE) (THE RZA FEAT. JUSTIN NOZUKA & KOBRA KHAN)

When film editor Sally Menke passed away last year, I immediately thought of Quentin Tarantino, who must have been devastated, as Menke was responsible for the general look and feel of a Tarantino picture, having edited all of his films and helping create the identity we know him as today. But I never expected a rap song to ever pay any sort of tribute to her. Since The RZA is Tarantino's BFF, though, it makes sense that he would have also been affected by the loss. However, Rakeem's first verse on this track is all about the late Ol' Dirty Bastard, and while it is heartbreaking, it still makes the dedication a bit misleading, as she isn't mentioned a single time. The instrumental is 8 Diagrams-era deep, which will be a make it-or-break it scenario for some of you two, and the vocals from Justin Nozuka and the guest rap from Kobra Khan all work to create a thoroughly mournful, yet hopeful, mood. It runs a bit longer than it has to, but I liked it overall.

2 LEFT SHOES (THE RZA FEAT. REV. WILLIAM BURK & TRUTH HURTS)

Over an incomplete-sounding piano-dominated instrumental, Bobby Digital recruits the honorable Reverend William Burk (who I'm pretty sure once had a last name spelled “Burke”, but whatever), one of the better Wu-Tang weed carriers of recent memory, in an attempt to resurrect the career of Truth Hurts, a vocalist who was formerly in the employ of both Dr. Dre and DJ Quik (who had a hit single, “Addictive”, in 2002). Burke only manages a few bars at the beginning before RZA rudely kicks him out of his office, J. Jonah Jameson-style, so none of his lines are especially memorable, but Robert sounds fairly comfortable, and, surprisingly, so does Truth Hurts (real name Shari Watson). I don't think the music industry will be clamoring for a comeback from her anytime soon, but I thought she did pretty well. I would hope that The RZA still has working phone numbers for Wu-Tang vocalists Blue Raspberry and Tekitha, though, as he has been ignoring them for quite a while now.

VISIONS (OUTLINES FEAT. THE RZA)

I'm pretty certain that this song leaked to the Interweb long before The RZA ever had a Twitter account, but I could be wrong. For those of you two who have never heard of the Outlines, they are a musical group based out of France who are best known for getting The RZA to appear on their song called “Visions”. (Lead singer Irfane Khan-Acito also appeared on the GZA's “Life Is A Movie” from Pro Tools, singing the part of the chorus that wasn't lifted wholesale from Gary Numan's “Films”.) The instrumental, purportedly provided by the guest star, effectively rips off the percussion sample from the Wu's own “Wu-Tang Clan Ain't Nuthin To Fuck Wit”, not unlike what Kanye West did on his Raekwon-assisted remix to Justin Bieber's “Runaway Love”. Yep, I somehow found a valid connection between the Outlines and motherfucking Justin Bieber. This song wasn't that bad, but laying positive lyrics over such an aggressive beat won't always result in the type of contrast you're hoping for, guys.

2 MORE CUPS OF BLOOD (GRAVEDIGGAZ)

Considering the fact that The RZA left the Gravediggaz, a Prince Paul side project and not, I repeat, not a Wu-Tang Clan-affiliated group, after their second album, The Pick, The Sickle, & The Shovel, having this pseudo-sequel to “2 Cups Of Blood” (originally from 6 Feet Deep, or N---amortis, depending on what side of the planet you're reading this review from) pop up around Halloween was a bit of a shock. However, it completely and totally sucks, so I wouldn't be surprised to learn that it was a demo recorded during those earlier sessions. Over an instrumental as nondescript as a child molester's white van, The RZArector and The Gatekeeper (Frukwan) trade verses about nothing specific, neither man seeming to notice the absence of Prince Paul or the late Poetic. Nothing to see here, folks. (I do understand that The RZA is planning on possibly bringing the group back to life with new members, all of whom will probably actually be Wu-affiliated: hopefully this shit isn't representative of their new direction.)

INSOMNIA (DEMO) (THE RZA FEAT. ERICA BRYANT)

This track shouldn't really be labeled as “unreleased”: “Insomnia” (not this demo version, although there isn't much of a difference between this track and the final cut) appears as a bonus track on European pressings of Bobby Digital's Digi Snacks. (It also appears on the first Afro Samurai soundtrack, with the two verses reversed in their order, for some strange reason.) It sounds alright, and Robert gets in some unique imagery that alternates between vivid and hilarious (such as when he describes Method Man playing his Playstation while high as a personification of insomnia), but Wu stans have heard this already. Perhaps RZA should consult Raekwon for some advice on how to get some sleep. Speaking of which, why the fuck haven't any other members of the Clan appeared on these Wu Wednesdays songs?

BROTHER'S KEEPER (THE RZA FEAT. REV. WILLIAM BURK)

RZA lifted this week's entry directly from the soundtrack to Afro Samurai Resurrection. Now I've been a Wu stan for quite some time now: I know that there is a ton of unreleased shit that Prince Rakeem can cull from for this series. So this shit was pure fucking laziness, period. It is a pretty interesting track, and more than likely Bobby was trying to draw attention to a banger taken from a Wu-Tang project that absolutely nobody (aside from A.R. Marks, who already reviewed it) purchased, but this song squanders the overall concept of Wu Wednesdays. And there was so much potential here, too. Damn.

MY FOREVER LOVE (LEVERT)

To honor his late cousin Russell Jones, The RZA posted this LeVert song as a stream-only affair, which makes perfect sense, as it wasn't his song to give away. More than likely, RZA was planning on holding “Gone” for this slot, but the passing of his friend changed the order of these tracks around a bit. The late brothers of LeVert (R.I.P.) provide an interesting diversion, and anybody who considers themselves a fan of music in general should take the time to give it a spin, even though Prince Rakeem's fingerprints won't be found anywhere on here.

YOU DON'T OWN ME (THE RZA)

The RZA returns over a sample from Lesley Gore's “You Don't Own Me”, basically reiterating the same concept in his own slow-roll, honey-dipped blunted manner. I wasn't really a fan (although I like the original song), so my mind wandered back to the days when RZA's flow was more intense, aggressive, and hurried, as if he had only two minutes to live and just had to get his verse out before his brain exploded, such as on the first Gravediggaz project or on Ol' Dirty Bastard's “Snakes” (which is a mini-masterpiece, but I digress). I find it intriguing that Robert's voice and flow changed up completely in the middle of his career and nobody batted an eye. Does this make The RZA the Michael Jackson of hip hop, minus the (alleged) child molestation and the Peter Pan complex?

HUMILITY (GAB GOTCHA)

RZA used this entry to transform Wu-Wednesdays into an infomercial for the newest signee to the Wu Music Group, former (I'm just guessing here) Beatnuts affiliate Gab Gotcha, whose debut album Timeless is available now, conveniently enough. The signing surprised me at first because Gabby had absolutely nothing to do with the Wu prior to it happening, but then I remembered Duck Down Records signing up a bunch of non-Boot Camp Clik artists (such as Kidz In The Hall, KRS One, and B-Real of Cypress Hill), so maybe The RZA is just trying to expand his spot in the marketplace. For what it's worth, Gab Gotcha sounds pretty good over this kung fu sample-heavy instrumental (that doesn't actually appear on Timeless, apparently), so I'm not angry, but I do feel a bit used.

MO POVO LUTA (LEGGEZIN FIN FEAT. KINETIC 9)

RZA continues to neglect the fans who want to hear the lost older material from the Wu Mansion, opting instead to loan the spotlight to Angola killer bee Leggezin Fin, who spits his bars in Portuguese over some fine Kinetic 9 (formerly known as Kinetic, formerly known as Beretta 9 from Killarmy) production work, and he sounds really fucking dope while doing it, although I'm at a loss as to what he's actually saying: he could be endorsing Sarah Palin and lashing out against abortion doctors for all I know. “Mo Povo Luta” is one of the first singles from his newest project, of which I don't have the name in front of me, and I look forward to hearing more from him, especially since I recently discovered that the man has an out-of-print debut album that I'm going to attempt to track down. This shit was pretty nice, so I guess The RZA made a good call this week.

BOO SPOT MIX DOWN (BLACK KNIGHTS)

The final song in the Wu Wednesdays series thus far features some more West Coast Killa Beez in the form of the crew the Black Knights, who are best known at this point in Wu lore as (a) the main reason Holocaust, a polarizing Wu affiliate whose own history is both interesting and contradictory, has a continued career in the first place, and (b) having a debut album that was never officially released. This track is not taken from that project: it's production sounds generic enough to slide onto radio playlists today, so I'm willing to bet that it's yet another new track. (Maybe it's my own fault for assuming that The RZA was going to empty the vaults during this Twitter-based series simply because he unleashed a couple of demo tracks: I set my own expectations a bit too high, so I was bound to be disappointed.) Rappers Crisis and Rugged Monk sound exactly like what a Z-grade Wu affiliate would sound like today, which is obviously not a compliment. This was an awful way to end the series, folks: hopefully Prince Rakeem has some more tricks up his sleeve in 2011, should he decide to keep this ball rolling.

-Max

My Gut Reaction: The Left - Gas Mask (October 26, 2010)

In my absence from the site, I found myself listening to music just for the fun of it, and I realized that I miss doing that.  Nearly every single hip hop album I've listened to in the past four years has been for the blog first and for my own experience second, which (a) explains why I tend to listen to new wave and college radio stations when I'm not writing, and (b) also explains why I feel so fucking burned out on our chosen genre.  In 2011, I have vowed to somehow find more time to just listen to stuff without the added pressure of meeting a self-imposed deadline, without taking away from the site itself unless absolutely necessary.

Yeah, sorry, that opening paragraph doesn't go very far in apologizing for you two having to look at the ugly album cover for Hip Hop Is Dead for almost a month.  Sorry about that.  I was busy.

During this transitional phase, I happened across the debut album from Detroit act The Left, Gas Mask, in my local mom-and-pop record shop.  Like most of you readers who aren't afraid to admit it, I had no fucking clue what it was supposed to be, although I was intrigued by the album cover's inherent creepiness.  So I looked up a couple of the tracks on YouTube, which were good enough to warrant a return to the store to actually buy the thing, and I liked it so much that I decided to deviate from my usual definition of a Gut Reaction post to write about it.  Technically, this review was conceived during my third run-through of Gas Mask, but it still counts as a Gut Reaction because shut up, that's why.

And yes, that means you do already know how this write-up will end.

The Left consists of rapper Journalist 103, up and coming producer Apollo Brown, and DJ Soko, all of whom hail from the economically desolate wasteland known as Detroit, Michigan, where a bunch of your other favorite artists, such as Royce da 5'9", J Dilla, Eminem, and Black Milk, also call home, or used to, before they ran for the hills the first chance they got.  That's really all the information I have on The Left, as their presence on blogs late last year was an event that seemingly came from out of the ether.  All three artists had run on the indie Motown circuit prior to the formation of The Left, so each man had the opportunity to hone their respective craft prior to recording their seventeen-track opus for the Mello Music Group label. 

The Left's Gas Mask is notable for being named one of the best albums of 2010 by many of your favorite bloggers; interestingly enough, that very same endorsement from your favorite bloggers served as the only real marketing Gas Mask ever really received.  Like I said before, these guys came out of nowhere to deliver their own take on what our chosen genre was missing, and for the most part, the lack of exposure only helped them more, as there was almost no pressure placed on their shoulders to create good music.  The Left were afforded a luxury that most popular artists would kill for: as nobody knew who they were or what they were doing, nobody knew what to expect, so just about anything they did could be considered as groundbreaking or entertaining, as long as it didn't sound exactly like what the next guy was doing.

Thankfully, Gas Mask does sound entertaining, if not consistently groundbreaking, and Journalist 103 (not to be confused with the New York rapper Journalist, who messed up my order at Del Taco the other day and has yet to apologize for it), Apollo Brown, and DJ Soko (who, obviously, handles the turntables, but is not really mentioned during the write-up itself, so I figured I'd give him his due here) all prove themselves to such a degree that you will want to hear a follow-up as soon as humanly fucking possible.

Because I really really really liked this album, you see.

1. CHANGE

It's a rap album intro, and it isn't as though there haven't been enough of them in our chosen genre, but I kind of liked this one, since it happens to be mostly instrumental, with some cleverly chosen sound bites mixed in that sound creepy as shit without the aid of context, which actually makes this sound even more unsettling. Although I highly doubt Gas Mask is The Left's attempt at a concept album revolving around the end of the world as we know it due to a radioactive meltdown or the annihilation of the ozone layer, I'll chalk this up to being effective and intriguing nonetheless.

2. GAS MASK

Journalist 103 becomes the latest artist to take it upon himself to save hip hop from itself, as his two-verse diatribe against what rap music has become and his call to arms proves. Yes, he's preaching to the choir at this point: anybody who is even remotely interested in Gas Mask is probably already dissatisfied with the current state of our chosen genre. However, dude has lyrics: he finds a new way to articulate his frustration over Apollo Brown's dramatic production. Had it not been for his disgust with “all the sex scandals” during the chorus (um, what sex scandals?), this title track could have honestly been a near-perfect introduction to The Left. Still, I liked this shit an awful lot.

3. FROZEN (FEAT. KOOL G. RAP)

There seems to be a great divide between Journalist's promise that his take on hip hop is better than downloading malware and Trojan viruses (I would certainly hope so, anyway) and whatever the fuck Kool G. Rap is talking about, but this shit was fucking dope anyway. Apollo pairs a breakbeat with a dramatic horn loop, resulting in a dark, proto-Killarmy vibe that makes you wish that there was more than just the single verse from each participant. The hook, made up of a sound bite repeated ad nauseum, could have been a bit better, but that's a minor quibble for something that was this fucking entertaining.

4. BATTLE AXE (FEAT. MU)

As you may have surmised from this song's title, “Battle Axe” is a showcase for the battle rhymes of Journalist and guest star Mu, both of whom straight up rip shit over some outstanding Apollo production work. Journalist gets in several good lines, even managing a reference to Eminem that doesn't sound forced just because they both hail from Detroit, and would probably sound just as great over different musical backing, but Apollo Brown's beat transcends everything on this track, making you hope that The Left releases an instrumental version of Gas Mask very soon, it's just that fucking good.

5. BINOCULARS

Well, when you have a good thing going, you realize that it can't last forever, or else you would never be able to appreciate it. I'm not saying that “Binoculars” is a bad song in any way, but it doesn't hold its own against the crushing juggernaut that is the previous three songs combined. Apollo's beat is simple and soulful, almost annoyingly so, but Journalist sounds unable to focus on the task at hand, coming across as disinterested, a feeling that is contagious for the listener. I'll use the remainder of this space to note that I appreciate how The Left doesn't feel any pressure to stretch out their songs to the traditional three-verse standard unless the situation truly calls for it. Restraint is still a rare trait in hip hop.

6. HOW WE LIVE (FEAT. HASSAAN MACKEY)

Of course, the moment I write out that statement is the moment when The Left switches things up on the listener and unleashes a song consisting of three verses. To be fair, the first segment is monopolized by their guest, Hassaan Mackey, so Journalist taking the remaining two sections as his own is probably how this song would have worked out even if he had been working alone. “How We Live”, which is by all possible measurements an otherwise generic hip hop cliché of a track that describes how hard a rapper's life is in the streets, is elevated beyond the dull “Binoculars” thanks to the performances from both rappers and Apollo Brown's production, which makes him sound like Detroit's answer to a Prince Rakeem question that nobody ever asked. Minus the kung-fu samples and the flood, of course.

7. CHOKEHOLD (FEAT. PARADIME)

The marriage of the beat and the rhymes on “Chokehold” didn't work for me all that much. Both Journalist and his invited guest Paradime (who also acts as a part of Kid Rock's posse under the name Freddie Beauregard, which sounds ridiculous until you recall that Kid Rock is a Detroit-area musician who actually started his career as a rapper before finding fame as whatever the fuck he does today) come across just fine: my issue was with Apollo's instrumental, which sounds a bit too lazy and generic for me to believe that it was crafted especially for Gas Mask. It doesn't sound bad in any way: in fact, the soulful throes of the sample would fit someone like Ghostface Killah like a glove. (Someone should give Apollo Ghostface's e-mail address immediately.) But it doesn't work for The Left, since, at this point in the project, we've only really heard Journalist over this type of slow roll and are longing to receive something with much more of a bite. Oh well, you can't have everything.

8. THE FUNERAL

Although the beat still doesn't really match with the artist, “The Funeral” (sadly, not a cover of the debut single from the Clipse) works much better than the previous song, mainly because this time around, the music acts as a counterpoint to Journalist's threats, and the contrast helps his bars stand out from the pack. In short, his two verses on “The Funeral” rank among the best I've heard on Gas Mask thus far, and we're not even halfway done yet. This bodes well.

9. STATISTICS (FEAT. INVINCIBLE)

The hook on here is pretty bad, but everything else about “Statistics” is a keeper, from the Apollo musical backing, which manages to sound more upbeat than most of what I've heard thus far, to the lyrics from both Journalist and underground female emcee Invincible, who both sound great, even though this isn't as much of a collaboration as it is the furthering of their own individual agendas. The hook is so terrible that it nearly ruins the entire track, though: was it really necessary to cede to that particular whim, guys?

10. REAL DETROIT (FEAT. MARVWON)

Because I liked Marvwon's guest spot on fellow Detroit emcee Royce Da 5'9”'s “Happy Bar Exam 2”, this was the first song I looked up when I was trying to decide whether to actually pick up Gas Mask or not. Sampling dialogue from the “A Fistful Of Yen” segment of Kentucky Fried Movie causes this song to win the entire Interweb for the rest of the year. Thankfully, the rest of the track, which focuses on various reasons why you may not want to include the Motor City on your travel itinerary (unless you're an aspiring rapper and/or Michael Moore), holds up its end of the bargain. This shit was pretty fucking good.

11. THE MELODY

Although I can't imagine there would be many women running to their local mom-and-pop record shop to pick up The Left's Gas Mask (sadly, underground hip hop is still pretty much a sausage-fest), Journalist throws in a love rap just in case, albeit one that is done on his own terms, which turns out nicely. The use of the vocal sample annoyed me at first, as I've gotten sick of hearing songs where the artist pretends to “interact” with the sample, but by the time “The Melody” ended, Apollo Brown eventually won me over. Huh.

12. REPORTING LIVE (FEAT. GUILTY SIMPSON)

The Left recruit Black Milk's homeboy Guilty Simpson for a guest verse on yet another song that goes out of its way to persuade listeners to not visit Motown. We get it, guys: the economy is really shitty and every third guy is a wannabe rapper that will attempt to pass off his demo when he's not blatantly trying to rob you. This medicine sure would have gone down smoother had Apollo's instrumental not sounded like something the aforementioned Black Milk would have tossed out in yesterday's garbage. Oh well, there's always the next track, I suppose.

13. FOOLED FOR THOUGHT

This was a Journalist 103 one-verse wonder disguised as an interlude-length track, allowing to to briefly break the fourth wall before switching back to our regularly scheduled programming. This shit was pretty hot, and I dig how Apollo slows the music down to a crawl toward the end, as if he had somehow broken your mp3 player using only the power of his mind.

14. DESPERATION

Convinced that this might be his final hurrah (and apparently unaware that there are three more songs left on Gas Mask), Journalist reaches out to the listening audience in the most aggressive way possible, somehow convincing Apollo to go along with his plan by coercing him to craft the hardest beat on the entire fucking album. This was a two-verse tour de force that could have easily beet stretched out to three or four, since his excitement to be behind the mic is so fucking palpable that it's contagious. Nice!

15. CAGED BIRDS (FEAT. FINALE)

Journalist and Finale, the guy who introduced Journalist to Apollo in the first place, attempt to justify their career choice with varying degrees of success. The guest star gets lost within Apollo's production, possibly overwhelmed by the sample, but our host proves himself as a more-than-capable emcee who should absolutely see a career boost after Gas Mask has run its eventual course. Apollo Brown's beat approaches the sound of Black Milk yet again, but this time it flows more effortlessly than it has any right to, turning this song, which could even inspire listeners to reconsider the career paths they're currently on, into a keeper.

16. HOMAGE (FEAT. FRANK WEST)

I was just thinking that Gas Mask was lacking in the “R&B chorus” department: now I can check off that particular line item. To the duo's credit, Frank West's hook doesn't intrude on the proceedings, but that still doesn't make it absolutely essential listening. Journalist's introspective lyrics take a bizarrely interesting left (ha!) turn during his first verse, where he (inadvertently?) equates a prison sentence with military service, a sentiment that will surely get The Left some airplay in the background of a Fox News program in between segments featuring their various hosts sucking Sarah Palin's metaphorical cock.

17. GET IN WHERE YOU FIT IN

Although the song title is among the most generic in hip hop history, Journalist still closes out Gas Mask with a bang, even (finally) addressing that other underground rapper that shares his rap moniker. (For the record, The Left's star emcee finds himself to be “twice as nice” as the guy who made his debut on the Canibus sophomore abortion 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus) before dropping a solo album and promptly evaporating from the face of the Earth.) Apollo's production ends the evening on a high note, leaving me more than a bit annoyed that the album is now over.

THE LAST WORD: I enjoyed The Left's Gas Mask quite a bit, even though it ultimately suffers from the same setbacks as most other hip hop albums tend to: Journalist 103's bars rarely stray from the “I'm a better rapper than all of you motherfuckers” cliché, while Apollo Brown's instrumentals, while much more polished than those of most of his peers, tend to be stuck in a soulful left lane, blocking traffic while cruising no faster than forty miles per hour. (Once again, DJ Soko rounds out this crew, but this is primarily the Apollo and Journey show.) Still, Gas Mask works more often than not, providing listeners who may find Eminem to be completely useless and Black Milk too much of a household name a perfect Detroit alternative. (And yes, I'm pretty sure that those type of people do actually exist.) Journalist's lyrics showcase the flow of an accomplished emcee who sounds even better when paired up with Apollo's darker beats, as the Guru to his DJ Premier, if Primo were actually made up of two separate people. It goes without saying that Gas Mask sounds very fucking consistent due to this pairing. The Left are very deserving of your money and your time, and hopefully any future follow-up will have similar results. In short, the other bloggers are exactly right in this case: Gas Mask is the shit. Do not ignore this album.  In fact, you should just click on one of the many links and just buy the damn thing from Amazon right now.  You will not regret it.

-Max

Nas - Hip Hop Is Dead (December 19, 2006)

Legend has it that Nasir Jones went to sleep one night after mixing several bottles of vodka with Yoo Hoo chocolate drink and several bong hits (for good measure).  As could be expected, he had a restless night: his dreams all seemed to revolve around clowns at a nearby circus fucking his mother, cashing out his 401k and spending it willy-nilly on privatized health care, and doing battle against vampire elves whose diet consisted exclusively of vacuum cleaner filters.  When he eventually awoke the next afternoon (Nas needs his beauty rest), he immediately had the title for what would end up being his eighth solo album, Hip Hop Is Dead.

That legend may or may not be bullshit, but the album title is real.  Sort of.  After the audio abortion that was his previous project, the double album Street's Disciple, Nas took a step back and observed our chosen genre from the perspective of an aging rapper who isn't taken as seriously as he once was, thanks to a severe lack of quality control and a tendency to coast on laurels that no longer exist, and he wasn't happy with what he saw.  The music industry had decided that commerce was more important than artistic expression, resulting in hip hop music that focused on materialism versus substance dominating the airwaves.  Unfortunately, this was a direction that hip hop had taken at least a full decade prior, during Puff Daddy's Shiny Suit era: one could say that Nas was late to this party.

One could also say that Nas was on the winning side of the argument, placing his early, post-Illmatic career in the hands of production team The Trackmasters, who were, admittedly, a part of the problem that Hip Hop Is Dead's title was attempting to address.  However, Nas himself admitted that he chose the album's title (which was originally entitled the more confusing Hip Hop Is Dead...The N, in reference to...I don't know, something he thought was important at the time, I'm sure) as purely a publicity move, and nothing more, and it worked: Hip Hop Is Dead received more press than any other Nasir Jones project in history (hell, I inadvertently draw attention to it every single time I add a post to my blog, which wasn't really named after this album but kind of was anyway), at least until his follow-up, which he wanted to call N----r but his label forced him to leave Untitled, which was more controversial for obvious reasons.

Not that Nas needed any help generating interest.  Dissatisfied with the way he was being promoted at Columbia Records (a conglomerate that also distrubuted his vanity label, Ill Will Records), he accepted an offer by his arch-nemesis, Shawn Carter, to sign with Def Jam Records (again, part of the problem), in an effort to put his music ahead of any petty beef he once had with Jay-Z (see: Hova's "Takeover"; Nasir's "Ether"; Jay's "Supa Ugly").  Jay himself announced this new alliance onstage at a concert, which was hinted at by Nasir's mere presence on Roc-A-Fella employee Kanye West's sophomore project Late Registration on "We Major", one of the better-received tracks on that album (and 'Ye's personal favorite); having Nas appear on a Def Jam album in the midst of a war of words with their biggest star, Jay-Z, would have been unheard of as little as six months prior.

Hip Hop Is Dead serves as Nasir's Def Jam debut, and the attention he received during the recording process led to a slightly larger budget, which our host spent on higher-priced production from names such as Kanye, Dr. Dre, and will.i.am from the Black Eyed Sellouts.  However, Nas is astoundingly loyal to some of his previous collaborators, securing beats from the likes of L.E.S. (who was given the opportunity to helm the we-all-saw-it-coming Nas/Jay-Z collaboration, "Black Republican") and Salaam Remi, the guy who had gifted Nas with some of his best songs over this current, lesser phase of his career.

Nasir's plan was a success: Hip Hop Is Dead became a critical darling, if not the blockbuster seller that Def Jam was hoping for.  It represented a huge step forward in our host's career, even though he had to abandon his Ill Will imprint in order to make the move.  (As part of his agreement to Columbia Records, in order to be released to swim around in Def Jam's money vault, he had to shed the vanity label and release one final project, a greatest hits album called, amazingly enough, Greatest Hits, which dropped less than a year after this project.)

None of this shit matters, though, if the music isn't any good.  So I put it to you, Nasir Jones, God's Son: do you have what it takes to finally win back the audience that loves Illmatic, or does Hip Hop Is Dead represent a man diving further up his own ass, living in denial instead of simply hanging it up and taking the day shift at the old folks home down the way?

You tell me.

1. MONEY OVER BULLSHIT

Nasir forgoes a rap album intro for his Def Jam debut, admonishing those who oppose his ideals and reiterating that our chosen genre is, indeed, dead. He also calls people “bitches”. A lot. The three verses on here aren't bad, as they serve as the rebirth of an unquestionable hip hop icon, but the L.E.S. beat (also credited to producer Wyldfyre) isn't nearly as dramatic as it should be for such an occasion: it does the job, but in a half-assed manner that would cause many an employer to question why it is still on the payroll when they could hire six less-qualified beats to fill in the space at a cheaper rate. Also, the hook was fucking garbage. But by Nas standards, though, this was alright enough.

2. YOU CAN'T KILL ME

Personally, I could give a fuck what Nas does in his private life in NYC, so the fact that he starts “You Can't Kill Me” with a random list of destinations, like the hip hop equivalent of a Zagat's guide, is a turn-off. He quickly ditches that concept to tell a tall tale about a night on the town and how one of his friends turned against him, and then quickly abandons that concept to spout random shit about how indestructible he is. L.E.S.'s instrumental is fucking weak, and Nas, who is normally a good storyteller, isn't able to pull it out in the clutch. Nothing about this track will ever save hip hop from its imminent death.

3. CARRY ON TRADITION

There's a rather large chunk of this song that is censored: if anyone can help fill in the blanks, I would appreciate it. Nobody's questioning Nasir's love for hip hop: in fact, he comes across as an embittered patriarch, watching his loved ones continue to make mistakes, sullying the family crest in the process. While he has a valid point (most rappers never evolve beyond working as an employee for a record label: Nas feels that the genre would remain viable if more artists took control of their own destiny, running those very same labels), I don't personally believe that hip hop would necessarily benefit from the implementation of his ideas: the lure of the almighty dollar would probably still fuck up the quality of our chosen genre, thanks to the resounding horrific taste of the general public (hey, Soulja Boy Tell 'Em came up on his own with his self-produced shitty version of rap), and besides, not every rapper has a handle on the day-to-day operations of running a label. I appreciated Nasir's attempt to inject some humor into what is ultimately a somber discussion, as he threatens to record a double LP using only samples from different parts of “Nautilus” by Bob James. See, even Nas believes that sample appears in every rap song ever made!

4. WHERE ARE THEY NOW

Taking his love of old-school hip hop to its obvious next step, Nasir Jones ponders the whereabouts of the rappers who were popular around the time he was growing up and establishing himself. He drops so many names that he's bound to hit one artist that you yourself were also wondering about. Salaam Remi's instrumental sounds like the type of beat Big Daddy Kane might have used back in the day. This concept runs out of steam after two verses, but Nas goes even further: as a pretty fucking cool marketing tool, he actually tracked down a lot of the hip hop ghosts represented on this track and convinced them to spit a few bars on one of three “Where Are They Now” remixes, which were divided up into a 1980s version, one for 1990s-era rappers, and a West Coast remix. All in all, this was actually a pretty cool idea, and it led to something pretty amazing, so that was nice, but when you see it as it was originally intended, within the context of an album entitled Hip Hop Is Dead and nothing more, it's merely alright.

5. HIP HOP IS DEAD (FEAT. WILL.I.AM)

I'm still confused as to why Nas felt the need to re-use the Iron Butterfly “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida” sample so soon after “Thief's Theme”, but he acknowledges this fact at the very beginning of this title track, so at least he's aware. “Thief's Theme” uses the source material in a far better manner, in my opinion, but obviously (given the name of this very blog) the subject matter on here hits a bit closer to home. The “Apache” breakdowns made me wish that Nas would have simply spit over that particular breakbeat, and as an opponent of censorship, I hate the fact that the fucking song is essentially a radio edit, removing any and all violent references from the version that originally leaked online (for instance, the entire chorus is altered to remove a mention of an AK and to change the “murder the deejay” line into “wreck the deejay”, which actually sounds more painful than an outright homicide). Nas sounded just fine, but will.i.am's schizophrenic production work was a bit iffy.

6. WHO KILLED IT?

A lot of listeners apparently didn't understand what this song was supposed to be back in 2006, so for those of you in the cheap seats, Nasir Jones is playing a Sam Spade gumshoe detective-type who trying to solve the murder of hip hop (and he does so GZA/Genius-style, dropping so many names and ideas that I hope The Game was following closely behind with a dustpan). The execution is actually quite ambitious (I'd rather hear Nas rhyme with this particular inflection than listen to his altered Scarlett persona again): not surprisingly, most of the complaints about “Who Killed It?” were derived from Nasir's performance. It's just a fucking song, folks: who cares that he kind of sounds like Bugs Bunny? I actually liked this much more than the title track, so finally, one of his experiments actually paid off.

7. BLACK REPUBLICAN (FEAT. JAY-Z)

This collaboration was a long time coming; the very moment Hova announced that he signed Nas to Def Jam, hip hop fanatics had been foaming at the mouth. So of course, the resulting track has to sound fucking majestic, and in that respect, L.E.S. did not disappoint, jacking from “Marcia Religiosa” (best known for its use in The Godfather Part II) while Shawn and Nasir celebrate their new business dealings and, I can only assume, the fact that they both used to fuck the same girl. I can understand why Jay can look past the attacks on “Ether”, but I never got why God's Son let Jay get away with “Supa Ugly”, which took their beef into a new and disgusting personal level (remember the used condoms in the baby seat in the back of the car?), but fuck it, money talks, I guess. This song was well worth the wait, even if these two have never been able to recapture lightning in a bottle with their later collaborations.

8. NOT GOING BACK (FEAT. KELIS)

Signing with Def Jam has its obvious benefits (see: “Black Republican”, which probably would have never happened otherwise), but Nas still being Nas, Hip Hop Is Dead still has to include crappy songs that feature our host throwing a lot of words at you without truly saying anything. Just like it was during my write-up for Street's Disciple, hearing Nas and Kelis appear on the same track is still fucking awkward, but one must keep looking forward. The only interesting aspect of this song was when Nas declared that he would never go back to Sony (read: Columbia). Unless they show him the money, of course. Don't want to burn too many bridges.

9. STILL DREAMING (FEAT. KANYE WEST & CHRISETTE MICHELE)

Another benefit of signing up for the Def Jam hip hop health care plan: easier access to Kanye West's Late Registration leftovers. Okay, that's (probably) not what this song is: it sounds too much like “Late” for a perfectionist such as 'Ye to have ever considered it for his own album. This sounds really fucking good, though: 'Ye's brash attitude contrasts Nasir's elder status nicely, while Chrisette Michele's vocals are woven throughout the beat as though she was the living embodiment of a soulful sample that the producer would have used otherwise. The result is a pleasant, enjoyable track, one of Kanye's finest (outside of those on his own albums, of course).

10. HOLD DOWN THE BLOCK

Nasir's occasional excursions into thugged-out territory tend to ring hollow these days, mainly because we are keenly aware that he fucking knows better than to resort to that life, especially given his high public profile. (When stories about you appear on TMZ, you should assume that people are watching your every move.) Even when he's just telling stories on behalf of other folks who are actually living that lifestyle, you're left wondering what he's doing out in such a bad neighborhood so late at night, and you'll probably offer to give him a ride back to his well-kept home. This was all a very roundabout way to say that this song sucked.

11. BLUNT ASHES

The idea of Nas smoking himself retarded and then spouting half-informed stories and conspiracy theories isn't the worst that hip hop has come up with: we've all had that experience with that one stoner that just won't shut the fuck up. Nas also nails the paranoia that is inherent with this behavior, as well. The song itself is only alright, but the most interesting aspect is the production, provided by NBA star Chris Webber, formerly of the Golden State Warriors. Yes, people are allowed to do more than one thing in their lifetime, thanks. His beat isn't bad, either.

12. LET THERE BE LIGHT (FEAT. TRE WILLIAMS)

I didn't care for this song. That's all I got.

13. PLAY ON PLAYA (FEAT. SNOOP DOGG)

I don't think anybody was eagerly anticipating a collaboration between Nas and Snoop Dogg, especially one over a Scott Storch beat that coerces Nas to start bragging about his prowess with the ladies instead of, I don't know, saying anything worthwhile. So it's to their credit that this song isn't entirely awful, although I must stress that I enjoyed Snoop far more than God's Son on here, as he is much better suited to this fuckery. Still would have preferred hearing Snoop make a cameo on the Dr. Dre beat that appears later on Hip Hop Is Dead, though. (Oops! SPOILER ALERT!)

14. CAN'T FORGET ABOUT YOU (FEAT. CHRISETTE MICHELE)

I like Chrisette Michele's voice, which makes its second of three appearances on Hip Hop Is Dead: it's lifted straight out of a different musical era that is far more interesting than the one she is forced to perform within. This second single is as much her song as it is Nasir's, and it isn't bad, thanks to its overall jazzy feel and actual effort from our host. The Nat King Cole “Unforgettable” sample is already too prevalent, though, so letting the song end by actually playing the original song was a bit much.

15. HUSTLERS (FEAT. THE GAME & MARSHA AMBROSIUS)

Nas does have a point: he was the first East Coast rapper to embrace Dr. Dre's beats (on his “Nas Is Coming” off of It Was Written, which wasn't all that great), so Dre's appearance behind the boards isn't all that surprising (actually, I take that back: it is a shock, considering our host's tendency to purchase bargain-bin beats). When Hip Hop Is Dead dropped, it was considered a big deal that The Game was to be featured on a Dre song, since his working relationship with the head of Aftermath had already been severed, but it's fairly obvious that Jayceon was added after the fact: Nasir's two verses don't even provide a hint that there was supposed to be a second artist, as the references to Compton during the hook could easily apply to Dre himself, and Game turns in a performance that sounds as though he believed this was going to end up on one of his You Know What It Is mixtapes instead of an actual album. There isn't anything revolutionary about this track, especially Dre's rather plain generic replacement fir a name-brand prescription, but given the rest of Hip Hop Is Dead, this could have been worse.

16. HOPE (FEAT. CHRISETTE MICHELE)

A curious way to end the evening. This wasn't originally supposed to be a Nas spoken word outro: the underlying beat, taken from Friends Of Distinction's cover of one of my favorite Beatles songs, “And I Love Her”, passed away during the sample wars, and yet Nasir decided to honor its memory by leaving the song on the album anyway. As a result, Michele's contribution sounds ridiculously out of place, but hey, at least she made some money off of this shit. The surprise is that our host's lyrics are actually compelling enough to hold your attention without the aid of any music. So that was unexpected.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Hip Hop Is Dead appears to declare Nas as a part of the solution and not a part of the problem, but I pose that the reverse is actually true: a lot of Nas albums suck rhino cock (save for Illmatic, of course), as they feature our host coasting on the credibility his first album bought him and nothing more, lyrics and (especially) production work be damned. There is usually one or two really fucking great songs on each Nasir Jones project, but if he were being graded on consistency, it would be proven that he is actually more detrimental to the hip hop cause than many of the “artists” that we feel actually did fuck everything up. Nas will forever receive an immense amount of goodwill because Illmatic is probably as close to a perfect rap album that one can get, and I imagine that is an awful lot of pressure for one man to shoulder, so I'm not all that shocked at the lack of quality control on his later output. That all being said, Hip Hop Is Dead truly is more of the same, albeit with a different record label's logo on the back: Nas has yet to learn from his past mistakes (“You Can't Kill Me” and “Not Going Back” may as well have been recorded during his Nastradamus years), and he cements his reputation as being the rapper least likely to pay any attention to what the fans actually want to hear from him (*cough* DJ Premier collaboration album *cough*). Hip Hop Is Dead isn't all bad news, though: even though, by his own admission, he chose the title for shock value and free publicity, he actually sticks with the theme for several tracks, with varying degrees of believability: if Nas really felt that our chosen genre was dead, then why would he continue to rhyme? Doesn't he have any other life skills? (Oh wait, he probably doesn't – he states on “Hope” that he's never held a summer job.) This critique has already become far too long, so I'll end by saying that Hip Hop Is Dead is just your typical post-Illmatic Nas album, with a handful of really good songs thrown in with the wash. At least it's much better than Nastradamus, but if hip hop is truly dead, Nasir Jones is an accomplice to murder, albeit one of many.

BUY OR BURN? I can see the hate mail coming, but I don't give a damn: this is worth a burn only. This album is filled with a lot of good ideas, but its poor execution causes it to trip over its own shoelaces at the starting line, and most of these songs don't really hold up four years later.

BEST TRACKS: “Black Republican”; “Still Dreaming”; “Hustlers”

-Max

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If you aren't too riled up by this review, you should catch up on the rest of the Nas catalog. That'll probably do it.