2Pac - R U Still Down? (Remember Me) (November 25, 1997)

So.

Tupac Shakur was killed in Las Vegas twenty-two years ago. The man born Lesane Crooks (which in itself isn’t a bad rap nickname) had signed a deal with Marion “Suge” Knight’s Death Row Records twenty-three years ago, a business move that got him out of serving a long-term prison sentence, but likely signed his death warrant, if you’re one of those conspiracy nuts who believes that Suge was abso-fucking-lutely involved with setting the man up. You know, like me.

Twenty-one years ago, Pac’s mother Afeni Shakur, was the executor of her son’s estate, gained control over his non-Death Row projects: 2Pacalypse Now, Strictly 4 My N.*.*.*.*.Z., Me Against The World, and Thug Life Vol. 1, which wasn't just his to own, but whatever. That doesn’t seem all that exciting on the surface, but along with these projects Afeni gained exclusive control over Pac’s vaults, filled with unreleased songs and verses recorded during the same time period. While that would make for some very interesting re-releases (can you imagine demos and rare tracks added to Me Against The World, which is still Pac’s finest hour), Afeni opted to take a route that would guarantee her family much more revenue in the long run, selecting a handful of the unreleased recordings to create a “new” album from 2Pac, the double-disc compilation R U Still Down? (Remember Me).

To distribute the project, Afeni formed her own label, Amaru Entertainment, strictly to handle anything posthumous that was related to 2Pac’s work, including a documentary film released to theaters in 2003. Amaru teamed with the joint venture of Jive and Interscope Records, the labels Pac had been signed to prior to his misadventures on Death Row Records, to unleash R U Still Down? (Remember Me) upon the world. The album consists of two discs filled with some rare songs that were previously released in some fashion, but mostly unreleased material that hadn’t yet seen the light of day, except for on the many various Makaveli bootlegs that swarmed our chosen genre immediately upon Pac’s passing. The unreleased tracks feature brand-new (in 1997, anyway) instrumentals commissioned by Afeni in an effort to upgrade her son’s sound to the current day, none of which are from the A-list talent Pac was lucky to work with in during his lifetime, which makes me thing Afeni was trying to cut corners as much as possible, paying homage to her son’s memory whilst on a budget.

R U Still Down? (Remember Me) was certified as four times platinum in the United States, meaning that two million copies were sold. That’s quite the feat, considering the man himself wasn’t around to help promote any of the material. Two singles were released to radio, but otherwise Amaru kept quiet, allowing the work to speak for itself. Whether that was a mistake on the label’s part is a story for another time, as I’m just going to continue sounding like I’m trashing Pac’s Thug Life legacy and passionate storytelling where he keeps repeating his same go-to phrases throughout, so perhaps I’ll just stop here and push ‘play’.

Follow along, if you’d like!

DISC ONE

1. REDEMPTION

At least seven different and distinct types of unnecessary, but I have to assume that you have all the time in the world when you’re dead, so why rush, am I right?

2. OPEN FIRE

If you fed a computer every commercially-released 2Pac song and asked it to create a new one, the end result would be “Open Fire”, which was kept in the vault for a very good reason: Pac literally says nothing new on here. He hits all of his standard bullet points: no love for the cops, Thug Life, high ‘til I die, etc.: the only thing missing on here is the rhyming of “Hennessy” with “enemies”. I will say that our host’s performance packs in much more passion than the subject matter deserves, although his line about spitting loogies from the roof while he witnesses all of the carnage was vivid. This doesn’t bode well for R U Still Down? (Remember Me), though. The less said about Akshun’s bland-ass production, the better, as it fails to even recognize that there’s a rapper present on the track, let alone 2Pac. Ugh. Also, R U Still Down? (Remember Me) was curated posthumously – why did Afeni feel the need to even bother with a rap album intro? You just know this was in no way Pac’s vision.

3. R U STILL DOWN? (REMEMBER ME)

We’re presented with the title track very early on, a Tony Pizarro production that shouldn’t be confused with the Jon B. song “Are You Still Down”, an R&B collaboration that happens to feature the last recorded vocals from our host prior to his passing, none of which are recycled on here, so I’m guessing the phrase was a personal mantra of our host’s. The instrumental actually works quite well: it reminded me of something that may have appeared on 2Pacalypse Now, and Pac’s bars fit well over it. Said bars still mine the same territory as his other work, of course, but he sounds engaging enough with his titular inquiry, wanting to know if you’re still willing to ride for him even though his life situation has changed significantly. I can see what Afeni named the project after this one song: it’s entertaining and wouldn’t be out of place on a 2Pac playlist, even with the simplistic hook.

4. HELLRAZOR

Is it strange if I believe Afeni chose “Hellrazor” for inclusion on R U Still Down? (Remember Me) because she thought the song painted her in a good light? Pac repeatedly proclaims, “Mama raised a hellraiser” (I know it’s called “Hellrazor”, but I’m a grammar nerd, come on) as a way to explain his attitude toward authority, but also to hand-wave his alleged hustling, as though his mother’s approval made all of it okay. Hmm. I used to really like “Hellrazor” back in 1997, but we fell out of touch, and in listening to it for the first time in twenty years, I now notice QDIII’s production leans fairly heavily on poppy R&B. The verses also blend indistinctly with the uncredited folks on the chorus, allegedly performed by Val Young and the late Stretch (who, coincidentally, was murdered twenty-three years ago today, R.I.P.), whose gruff flow is so similar to that of our host that you’ll likely forget that there was a second rapper even appearing on this track. (Both receive writing credits on the song, but there is nothing in the liner notes about additional vocals.) Those verses, however, are delivered with a fiery passion, as was Pac’s wont, and our host snaps during the third, where he questions the loss of innocent lives as a part of God’s plan/ So yeah, I don’t like the music for “Hellrazor” all that much anymore: it just sounds like extremely-polished faux-John Carpenter to me now. But Pac’s vocals are definitely worth listening to.

5. THUG STYLE

Hey! When you first heard about R U Still Down? (Remember Me), were you worried that every song would sound like a string of Pac sound bites over a barely-there instrumental? Well, then you were definitely concerned that both discs would be filled up with songs such as “Thug Style”, which plays like generic Tupac Shakur Mad Libs, although Mad Libs don’t tend to dilute the legacy and potency of specific rap artists. I honestly believe that We Got Kidz’s instrumental was trying to provide some depth to our deceased host’s unused verses (which all run together with the hook, meaning that Pac never seems to take a breath after waiting nearly forty-five seconds at the beginning to even start rapping), but his artistic notions were trumped by the need to move units, people, and “Thug Style” is the crap we ended up with.

6. WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE (INTERLUDE)

Labeled as an interlude, but runs for four-and-a-half minutes for some goddamn reason. Who has the time for this kind of fuckery? Was Afeni required to hit an contractually-mandated running time for the project? If so, she should have used 18-point font while double-spacing everything. Pac’s distorted vocals are also a turn-off: regardless of the problems in society he’s discussing, the effort makes him sound like A$AP Rocky ad-libs, and that’s not something that ever should happen.

7. I WONDER IF HEAVEN GOT A GHETTO

Who the fuck requested easy-listening 2Pac? Because that’s what producers Soulshock and Karlin have turned “I Wonder if Heaven Got a Ghetto” into: what was once a b-side to “Keep Ya Head Up” has been reformed into adult contemporary faux-inspirational rap music with a “message”. I’m probably being a bit harsh, as I wholly believe Pac was being sincere with his sentiments (so much so that huge chunks of his vocals were recycled for his later posthumous hit “Changes”, which is basically the exact same song as this), but the switched-up music fails him spectacularly. And Jive/Interscope released this as a single? What audience was this even made for?

8. NOTHING TO LOSE (FEAT. Y.N.V.)

“Nothing To Lose” is a joint effort between Pac and the Live Squad production that, at least on its surface, appears to have been untouched by the ravages of time, preserved carefully in a vault during the recording sessions for our host’s first two albums, for which the production team (which included the late Stretch) provided beats. As such, the music is dated as hell, but Pac also sounds much more energized by the beat, as he had actually heard it and rapped over it during his lifetime. The verses all sound fine, if a bit cliché for our host, but there’s no real reason why this particular song never made it out of the studio. Okay, I lied, maybe there is one: Pac’s second verse was also used as his “freestyle” for that infamous cypher purportedly at Madison Square Garden that featured Big Daddy Kane, Big Scoob, Shyheim, and The Notorious B.I.G. (you know, the one where Biggie chants, “Where Brooklyn at?” and kicks off his verse with, “I got seven Mac-11s, about eight .38s…”). The Biggie and Pac vocals were salvaged for “Live Freestyle”, a track off of Funkmaster Flex and Big Kap’s The Tunnel, which just seems incredibly disrespectful to the other participants. Anyway, Pac’s excitement on the stage alongside his friends and his frenemy is much more palpable than this studio take.

9. I’M GETTIN MONEY

Our host was never a stranger to smooth beats, but we’ve all heard how he sounds when he’s fully a part of the creative process – you can look to his work on Death Row alone. So I found it very hard to believe that he would spit his generic entrepreneurial platitudes over Mike Mosely’s beat, which sounds so polished that the listener will be able to see their reflection in the speaker, which is also part of my pitch for a terrible horror movie that’s due to make tens of dollars. (Jason Blum, hit me up.) “I’m Gettin Money” is bad, but not because Pac’s saying shit we’ve already heard from him before. No, it’s because every single rapper in existence has shared these thoughts with us. Groan.

10. LIE TO KICK IT (FEAT. RICHIE RICH)

There’s a lot of good here, but it shares space with one glaring flaw, which I’ll get to in a minute. “Lie To Kick It” has a catchy-ass beat provided by Warren G (yeah, he used to work outside of his comfort zone back in the day), who samples Bernard Wright’s “Haboglabotribin’” (also heard in Snoop Doggy Dogg’s “G’z & Hustlaz”) and two different James Brown songs in order to give the subject matter the funky feel it requires to not come across as entirely misogynistic. Pac and his longtime friend Richie Rich rap about random women who put up facades instead of accepting the idea that they’re all consenting adults, which doesn’t sound like enough to fill an entire song, at least until you remember that Ice Cube did the exact same shit on “Ya Ain’t Gotta Lie (Ta Kick It)” three years later. Richie’s smoothed-out playa vibe provides R U Still Down?(Remember Me) with some much needed contrast, and he and Pac sound like they’re having a fucking ball. But what about that flaw? At the very beginning, Pac dedicates “Lie To Kick It” to Mike Tyson, and lest you misconstrue his meaning, he outright says, “If she didn’t wanna fuck, then she never would’ve called you.” Mind you, Tyson was (and still is, obviously) a convicted rapist. Hell, Pac was too, although possibly not when this song was recorded. But any woman who may have thought of Pac as an ally will see their dreams shattered today. It’s just too fucking bad that Warren G and Richie Rich do fantastic work on here. I’m torn, but not really.

11. FUCK ALL Y’ALL

We Got Kidz (who fucking named that team?) give 2Pac’s vocals a bluesy, sitting on the porch on a summer evening-vibe, which makes zero sense, as this isn’t “So Many Tears” (a song with a similar, if not shared, tone): “Fuck All Y’all” is about our host’s tendency to drop all of his so-called friends on a whim, especially after life starts rewarding him for his hard work. Sure, one could read this as a “your friends will change when you become successful, so watch out” cautionary tale, but Pac’s boisterous nature betrays the fact that he himself is the asshole in these relationships, and as such, this shit never truly connects. Ah well. The title is pretty funny, though.

12. LET THEM THANGS GO

2Pac has frequently sounded like an excitable puppy behind the microphone, talking over people and forcing words out of his mouth that his brain hadn’t yet properly vetted in order to speak his truth before anyone else gets the opportunity. But that doesn’t mean that he’s especially gifted at rapping really quickly, though, and on “Let Them Thangs Go”, that shortcoming becomes very obvious, as our host’s vocals sound even more artificial than usual, as though he were burning through pages in a notebook filled past the margins with rhymes just to churn out as many songs as possible that day. Also, “Let Them Thangs Go” sucks, so that’s a factor here.

13. DEFINITION OF A THUG N---A

The first disc of R U Still Down? (Remember Me) ends with “Definition of a Thug N---a”, a previously-released song that appeared on the soundtrack to Poetic Justice (a film Pac also starred in, alongside Janet Jackson). I remember digging the Warren G production back in the day, and I feel no different today, as the G-Child’s instrumental has much more soul to it than every other goddamn motherfucking song on here. Pac’s vocals are a precursor to his Thug Life rebranding, his observations of the struggle hitting fairly close to home, and his charisma oozes out of the earbuds. Pac even shouts-out Warren himself toward the very end, which is something I never noticed before. This is a stone-cold 2Pac classic in my eyes, and I defy anyone to prove to me otherwise.

DISC TWO

1. READY 4 WHATEVER (FEAT. BIG SYKE)

I hope you weren’t holding out hope that “Definition Of A Thug N---a” was going to shift the tide of R U Still Down? (Remember Me), because if “Ready 4 Whatever” is any indication, the second disc will be just as awful as its partner. This Johnny “J” production features a 2Pac and Big Syke who are, ostensibly, ready 4 whatever to happen at any given point, but rather than give the listener a song about their stellar adaptation abilities, all they do is boast-n-bullshit about street life and hustling and everything else Pac has tattooed on his chest. This pill may have been easier to swallow had the beat been in any condition for me to consider it “decent”, I admit. What a shame: Pac and Syke worked well together when the situation was more user-friendly.

2. WHEN I GET FREE

What this track features: (1) Some terrible acting right off the top; (2) some bizarre reggae-tinted We Got Kidz production that has fuck-all to do with the theme; (3) 2Pac’s altered vocals, slowed down and screwed up, for the entirety of his performance this time around. What “What I Get Free” does not feature: anything approximating entertainment. This was such a miscalculation that you’ll hope that Pac’s character never makes it out of prison, rendering all of the dreams he describes on here moot. No, seriously, I demand to know whose bright idea this bullshit was. I want names.

3. HOLD ON BE STRONG

2Pac’s online defenders always seem to forget that the man was a classically-trained actor, so in no way do I believe that ninety-five percent of the stuff he mentions during the two verses he gives to “Hold On Be Strong” actually happened to him. But it’s hard to criticize the overall message, as Pac is literally telling the listener to act on the titular phrase in the face of adversity, a trope he’s used very well throughout his career. As an actor, he’s been taught how to sell whatever it is he’s spinning, and even if he never snuck weed into school inside his lunch bag, he probably knew of someone who did, and he’s at least able to tell someone else’s story in an engaging fashion. Choo’s instrumental lays a well-known breakbeat underneath Pac’s verses (and extended outro). Not terrible, but not bad, either.

4. I’M LOSIN IT (FEAT. BIG SYKE & SPICE 1)

There are many rappers who record songs about how street life has them feeling paranoid, so why shouldn’t Pac be one of them? He probably should have skipped the studio session that produced “I’m Losin It”, though, because it’s boring as all hell. Over some bland Tony Pizarro production that is underlined by a talkbox chorus for absolutely no reason, Pac, Syke, and Spice 1 each provide convincing arguments as to why this song hadn’t been released officially until now. Ugh.

5. FAKE ASS BITCHES

On the Johnny “J”-produced “Fake Ass Bitches”, our host bounces back and forth between attacking materialistic women and antagonizing men who they feel act like the titular description, because calling a man a “bitch” is the most devastating thing you can ever do, at least in hip hop, apparently. Pac sounds like he’s a ball of displaced anger without a proper outlet, but instead of coming across as passionate, on this track he seems one-track minded and really fucking crazy. Dangerously so. Putting these combative bars over a breakbeat does not reduce the message even a little bit, either. Rappers have touched on this topic for goddamn years now, but Pac’s take on here is so nakedly aggressive  that it’s borderline disturbing, and that isn’t a compliment. This song adds nothing to his body of work.

6. DO FOR LOVE (FEAT. ERIC WILLIAMS)

The second and final single from R U Still Down? (Remember Me), which was a minor hit and was accompanied by a memorable animated video clip, what with Pac being too deceased to film a proper video when it was produced. “Do For Love” is actually a bit darker than the poppy Soulshock and Karlin soundscape and radio-friendly  Eric Williams (from the R&B group BLACKstreet) chorus would have you believe: over three verses, our host describes situations in which people place blind faith in the concept of love and happiness, regardless of how they’re feeling in the moment, and the stories run the gamut from cheating scandals and abusive relationships to surprise pregnancies. Rumor has it the third verse was Pac’s expression of unrequited love toward TLC’s Left Eye (R.I.P.), who he had been allegedly getting closer to before his passing. After hearing the lyrics, I can see it, but Pac wrote his bars in such a vague fashion that they really could apply to anyone. “Do For Love” is kind of boring today, but overall it isn’t a bad song, and it proves beyond the shadow of a doubt that he had range as a rapper. Not a single Thug Life reference on here or anything.

7. ENEMIES WITH ME (FEAT. DRAMACYDAL)

Meh.

8. NOTHIN BUT LOVE (FEAT. DAVE THE BLACK ANGEL)

While the previous song seemed to be a patchwork of Pac vocals used for a verse and a sped-up chorus that made very little sense when compared to the work he did while he was alive, “Nothin But Love” is a previously-released b-side (from the twelve-inch single for “I Get Around”), a bizarrely positive note that has no place seated right next to the insipid and violent “Enemies With Me”. My understanding is that this Pac and DJ Daryl production is the exact same track as was released back in 1993, down to the Dave Hollister hook, although he went by “Dave the Black Angel” back then. Pac’s good at these reflective tracks, but this is merely okay-ish. Still, bonus points for the fact that Pac had some creative control here.

9. 16 ON DEATH ROW

When I was younger, me, an idiot, thought “16 On Death Row” would have been better had Pac somehow recorded verses about his stint on Death Row Records several years prior to landing in prison and having Suge Knight bail him out in exchange for his soul. I realize that makes no goddamn sense. But “16 On Death Row” is actually something severely lacking in our host’s later work: a storytelling rap. On here, he inhabits the role of a teenager serving a prison sentence, detailing what brought him to this point and describing everyday life behind bars in horrifying detail. The self-produced beat is terrible: it barely functions as music. But Pac’s vocals abandon passion in favor of understanding, and you end up feeling for his character, whose existential crisis in prison can only lead to a bleak end. Interesting writing, anyway. But the song blows.

10. I WONDER IF HEAVEN GOT A GHETTO (HIP HOP VERSION) (FEAT. MAXEE)

I didn’t remember this Soulshock and Karlin instrumental even existed until “I Wonder If Heaven Got A Ghetto (Hip Hop Version)” began playing, at which point it came flooding back to me: this remix is the version of the song I’m most familiar with. It’s essentially the same song as the take that appeared on the first disc, but Pac’s vocals seem to fit this beat a tiny bit better, which makes me wonder why that other mix was even included on R U Still Down? (Remember Me) to begin with. Hmmm...

11. WHEN I GET FREE II

When I first purchased R U Still Down? (Remember Me), I responded to only a couple of tracks, one on each disc: “Hellrazor” and this Chris and Conrad Rosser-produced sequel to a song that appeared earlier in the program.. Pac’s vocals are not distorted on here, however, and his fantasies of what he’ll accomplish once he gets out of the bing work a hell of a lot better now. The presence of the Melvin Bliss “Synthetic Substitution” breakbeat help matters significantly, but our host’s own performance is the real draw, his mingling of anger and excitement contagious as hell. This is the best song on R U Still Down? (Remember Me) today, hands fucking down.

12. BLACK STARRY NIGHT (INTERLUDE)

The fuck?

13. ONLY FEAR OF DEATH

2Pac had rapped about death for years prior to running into his legal troubles. Because of that, every single line on “Only Fear of Death” sounds like it was recycled from a different song from our host. But even with Pac’s scattershot subject matter (his paranoia certainly doesn’t seem to get in the way of him having sex with random women during the first verse), this ends up sounding… pretty good. The Live Squad instrumental is understated and pushes the narrative forward, while our host paints a portrait of an artist as a young man who isn’t sure how to pull himself out of his situation without confronting it directly. Not a terrible way to end this compilation,. But why wasn’t it sequenced earlier in the tracklisting? More people would have noticed the goddamn thing.

FINAL THOUGHTS: R U Still Down? (Remember Me) is a fucking mess. I wholeheartedly believe Afeni Shakur had good intentions beyond keeping the checks rolling in to the estate, but we all know these weren’t the only songs 2Pac had in the vault, and her selection process remains baffling to me. It isn’t because of the disconnect in subject matter throughout the two discs, though: Pac was a complex man, and, like all human beings, he was fully capable of having multiple points of view when it came to certain things (such as the treatment of women, for which his cognitive dissonance must have been at the level of Master). But while the passion is clearly there in his vocals (has Pac ever really recorded a song where he sound like he phoned it in? Honest question), his heart doesn’t seem in most of this, and the newly-recorded instrumentals backing him are such a mismatch that this comes across more as one of those tribute albums you come across on Spotify where no-name artists perform the songs you actually wanted to hear. It’s not fair of me to critique R U Still Down? (Remember Me) as a true 2Pac album, I admit: it wasn’t his vision, and he locked a lot of these songs away for a reason. And there are sparks of life to be found, such as the songs I listed below, one of which is still on my current iTunes playlist to this day. But if Afeni were really trying to give Pac’s fans something to remember him by, she could have at least spent the money to secure some better goddamn production, as that is what fails the man the vast majority of the time. And what the hell was with including interludes and entire tracks where Pac’s vocals are distorted to the point where they were unrecognizable? I know R U Still Down? (Remember Me) ultimately made the estate money and led to a multitude of posthumous projects from Tupac Shakur (including that weird Eminem-produced one), but the way this was put together was sloppy and horrific. I’d like to think Pac would have never let this one leave the studio in its current form, but who knows, he also enjoyed being rich, and back in 1997 everyone believed that any and every 2Pac unreleased verse was a license to print money. Overall, my review is a meh followed by a sigh. It is what it is.

BUY OR BURN? Don’t actually pay money for this one, folks. A stream is more than sufficient here. You have to remember that, for the most part, these are songs that 2Pac didn’t even want you to hear in the first place, and it shows.

BEST TRACKS: “When I Get Free II”; “Definition Of A Thig N---a”; “R U Still Down? (Remember Me)”; “Only Fear of Death”

-Max

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