Black Milk - Album Of The Year (September 14, 2010)

It was a Saturday night, I think, and my friends and I were at the second bar of the evening. Aside from some flashing lights, it was fairly dim inside, and music was blaring in my ears (most likely New Wave, given my well-documented preferences, but I honestly can’t remember) while conversations around me were being both attempted and abandoned. I was already five or six drinks in, so I have absolutely no idea how I even got to the second location in the first place, as this was before Uber was a thing, but that isn’t the story. The only place you could even dream of being heard by another human being was by the bar itself, so obviously I stuck around there instead of moving to a table or a couch, because when you’re that drunk and you choose to sit down, you’re not getting back up without a fight, and you become useless, let’s be real.

This doesn’t happen much now, as I’m now older and nobody gives a shit, but back in the day, whenever I was introduced as someone who loved hip hop so much that he insisted on writing about it, I would receive one of two responses: “Why?”, which is a valid question even today; or, “That’s cool. I really like (insert popular rapper’s name here).” I’d be willing to bet that a lot of you two who express your interest in our chosen genre have gotten those kinds of reactions whenever your musical preference is brought up in conversation, too. I’m old enough to have also gotten a wholeheartedly earnest, “Rap, huh? I like rap. Well, I like Parappa the Rapper. Have you played that game?”, which, I’ll just say it here, no, I’ve never played that game and I never will. No reason, really. But I completely understand why some folks would attempt to engage the conversation based on the limited experience they have with your world, and I also embody the frustration that one can have when someone’s trying their hardest to relate to you somehow.

Anyway, on this night I received an entirely different type of reaction: the rarer, but preferable, “You do? That’s cool. Have you ever heard of (insert underground artist’s name here)? I think they’re going to be huge.” At least this response elicits honest conversation from me, especially when I’m on one and feeling especially chatty. The artist brought to the forefront was Black Milk, who at the time was on the cusp of blogger consciousness, back during the time when one had to dig thoroughly in order to find stuff that wasn’t from your specific region (as you can tell, I’m not from Detroit). This dude loved producer-slash-rapper Curtis “Black Milk” Cross so much that he went out of his way to find his first album, Sound of the City: Vol. 1, just so he could pull it out of his hat as a recommendation in the off chance that he met someone that liked hip hop just enough to write about it. It’s a nerdy hipster thing to do, no question, but so is writing a hip hop blog such as mine.

Fast forwarding, Album of the Year is Black Milk’s fourth full-length solo album, following an EP, Broken Wax, multiple album-length collaborations with his fellow Motown residents (and also former Aftermath Records signee Bishop Lamont), and, obviously, three previous solo efforts, which followed the evolution of his sound, which can be described as electro J. Dilla-esque, although that comparison is lazy, given that both the late Dilla and Milk hail from the same city. Instead, let’s refer to Milk’s trademark as a Motown Preemo-lite, except with a tendency to let the beats find their own natural endpoint.

Album of the Year’s very title is intended to sound like both a humblebrag and a proclamation, but according to the artist himself, its meaning is far less boastful: this project is simply Milk’s run-through of his previous year, broken up into twelve tracks (one per month? You be the judge), set to soulful musical backing and accompanied by guests part of the time, as there is no situation where one is forced to be around other people every waking moment of one’s life. There are only a handful of guest appearances on Album of the Year, few of which are occupied by other rappers, leaving Black Milk to handle the majority of microphone duties in addition to producing the entire project.

Has Curtis lived up to the potential promised by a random guy at the bar that one weird Saturday night? I wouldn’t know: I don’t recall speaking to him at length, as I was pretty drunk and I probably changed the subject to something ridiculous and/or Simpsons-related. But that doesn’t mean we won’t give Milk another shot, right?

1. 365

Kind of goofy as far as album openers go. After a brief bit of explanation from our host regarding the title of the album, “365” launches into an animated, celebratory instrumental complete with some live drum work. That doesn’t sound like a bad description so far, but as the track goes on (for about two minutes too long), Black Milk introduces spacey sound effects and shifts the overall tone to something remarkably silly. His lone verse treads similar territory as his previous work, but with each passing album, his pen game improves drastically even if his delivery may flail about inconsistently, although at least on here it rivals that of rappers who aren’t also producers in its efficiency and energy. But I‘ve never revisited “365” until today, and today I completely understood why: this track merely exists.

2. WELCOME (GOTTA GO)

Pretty boring, if I may say so myself, which I am, as this is still my blog. Over musical backing better suited for a video game than a rap album, Milk spits robotic verses and a bizarre “hook” that seemingly drops the audio on some uses of the “n-word” but leaves others intact, which not only makes zero sense, it disrupts the flow of the track. Honestly, the best thing about “Welcome (Gotta Go)” is its title, which will elicit a smirk from you at best. Ah well.

3. KEEP GOING

Although I appreciated the live instrumentation present here, “Keep Going” was hectic as fuck, so much so that you can barely follow our host’s thought process as his verses deliver some fairly generic rap similes and metaphors. It’s strange for me to write that a rap song with live drums and an obvious flair for the theatrical sounds generic as shit, but that’s where we happen to be as a nation right now. Curtis still sounds fine behind the microphone, but on “Keep Going” that’s where he remains: fine. Not great, not bad, not even good, just “fine”. And that isn’t where you should aspire to be as an artist: you want to elicit a reaction out of people. The brief instrumental interlude leading into the next audio track is far more successful, and even that kind of sucked.

4. OH GIRL (FEAT. AB)

Sounds almost exactly the same as “Keep Going”, although I’m fully aware that description is incorrect: I’d just be doing you two a disservice if I didn’t prepare you for the sonic similarities between the previous tune and “Oh Girl”. At least this song fares a bit better, as Black Milk’s lyrics all circle a potential romantic partner, with all of the overused clichés and platitudes that come with that. Guest crooner AB provides the hook, which takes place over yet another busy instrumental: it appears that Milk had a lot of ideas for Album of the Year and wanted to make sure he used every single one of them. Sigh.

5. DEADLY MEDLEY (FEAT. ROYCE DA 5’9” & ELZHI)

You read that title, you glance at that Detroit-specific guest list, you’re expecting a banger, right? Welp, that’s not exactly what happens on “Deadly Medley”, a song title that demands your attention. Subverting expectations, Black Milk supplies an instrumental that almost purposefully does not knock, instead choosing to creep up on the listener, as it is a decent beat that does grow on you eventually. But it still feels like a missed opportunity to me. Rhyme-wise, Ryan and Elzhi contribute serviceable heat, while our host steps his game up to meet his friends from home halfway, and there is some enjoyment to be derived here. I can’t help but wonder if the title and the guest list was intended to troll the average hip hop nerd, though.

6. DISTORTION (FEAT. MELANIE RUTHERFORD)

I didn’t care for the way our host dismisses the mere idea that he could ever be depressed, nor how he essentially talks down to people who use alcohol as a means to escape their problems temporarily. But aside from those lyrical fuck-ups, I kind of liked “Distortion”: Milk’s verses veer quickly from condescension to our host confronting actual problems, such as visiting friends in the hospital, automobile accidents, deceased family members, and the like. His hatred of the year 2009 is the most relatable trait he’s ever revealed to his audience. Guest crooner Melanie Rutherford delivers a pleasant hook around a simple drum-heavy beat where the actual distortion (via guitar) doesn’t occur until the end. I liked this one okay, but I fucking loved the instrumental interlude that plays afterward: I’d like someone to borrow that beat for their own purposes.

7. OVER AGAIN (FEAT. MONICA BLAIRE)

Milk’s beat sounds like the type of musical accompaniment Jay-Z was looking for while recording The Black Album: perhaps our host should try to score a beat or two on whatever Hov’s next (solo) project ultimately ends up being. So in that regard, “Over Again”: is a winner. In another, more important regard, “Over Again” is fucking terrible, though.

8. ROUND OF APPLAUSE

On which our host succumbs to his innermost feelings, especially the one that believes Album of the Year needed to go overboard with the live instrumentation. “Round of Applause” is the textbook definition of “busy”, distracting from everything else in its vicinity, including Black Milk’s vocals, which, sadly, have nothing to do with Waka Flocka Flame’s song of the same name, since that track was released a year later, and we all understand the concept of time, right? Moving on…

9. BLACK AND BROWN (FEAT. DANNY BROWN)

I had already written about this song as a part of the Black and Brown! write-up, but “Black and Brown” may actually sound even better today, having aged like a fine wine. It definitely doesn’t fit on Album of the Year, as its instrumental combines elements of both Tronic and this very project, but that may be why it sounds so good to me. Since he doesn’t have to carry the track, Milk’s verse hits much harder than usual, while fellow Motown resident Danny Brown still makes me cackle with his random Noreaga reference, even if some of his sex-centric bars on here make me cringe. Still, enjoyable as fuck, folks. The Album of the Year version ends with an unnecessary skit that at least tries to prove that our host has a sense of humor.

10. WARNING (KEEP BOUNCING)

The beat on “Warning (Keep Bouncing)” is a bizarre upgrade of old-school Rick Rubin-esque early hip hop, with a side of West Coast gangsta rap sprinkled in for taste, but all it accomplishes is sounding just abrasive enough for you to wonder if your earbuds have finally crapped out. This was a bit much, although the higher energy present complements Black Milk’s vocals nicely.

11. GOSPEL PSYCHEDELIC ROCK (FEAT. MELANIE RUTHERFORD & AB)

Meh.

12. CLOSED CHAPTER (FEAT. MR. PORTER)

The final track of the evening runs longer than seven minutes, which is more than enough time for Black Milk to get his Kanye West “Last Call” on, as he describes his life (not to the extent of Tronic’s standout opener “Long Story Short”, but still) and shouts out his peers both living and deceased. The guitar loop is interesting, but it grows unbearable after a few minutes, let alone seven, and our host just isn’t a strong enough emcee to hold the audience’s attention for this long. He fares better musically, but doesn’t really play around with the track until the end, at which point we’ve already switched over to an entirely different artist. But we’re done now, which is the most important thing.

FINAL THOUGHTS: With its high points merely scattered about as opposed to making up the entirety of the project, Album of the Year is a bust for me. Throughout this listen, I kept questioning why Black Milk felt the need to rap, which I know is a weird question because who am I to say what tools any artist can use to get their message across, but while his work behind the microphone has improved significantly since, say, Popular Demand, he still hasn’t reached the level where hip hop heads seek his work out to specifically hear his voice. Why he hasn’t just unleashed a The Chronic-type or Soul Assassins-esque project is beyond me: he could limit his scope to just his hometown and still knock that shit out of the park. But whatever. Musically, Album of the Year didn’t connect with me as much as the best moments on Tronic, but, as mentioned above, there are high points to be found here, and at least Milk hasn’t been slacking behind the boards. Perhaps he constricted himself by trying to do a sort-of concept album, I don’t know, but I wasn’t feeling Album of the Year at all. This doesn’t mean Black Milk is officially off my project, as I’d like to try to finish up with him as much as possible, but I’m going to turn to you, the reader: why should hip hop as a musical genre continue to follow the exploits of Curtis Cross? Asking for a friend.

BUY OR BURN? Neither, really. Streaming is your friend. Spend your hard-earned money on some other Black Milk project instead.

BEST TRACKS: “Black and Brown”; “Deadly Medley”

-Max

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