The 12 Hours of Wu-Tang: #2 - My Gut Reaction: Raekwon - The Wild (March 24, 2017)

Fun fact: Although I was cognizant of the releases from various members of the Wu-Tang Clan in 2016 but just couldn’t find the time or the wherewithal to seek them out for whatever reason, the seventh (!) full-length project from Corey “Raekwon” Woods, 2017’s The Wild, was the first where I legitimately didn’t give two shits if I ever listened to it or not. Life just gets in the way sometimes, you know? So this review should be a fun one, is what I’m saying.

The Wild follows Chef Raekwon’s last effort, the stupidly-titled Fly International Luxurious Art, which featured one song I still kind of like (even though I admittedly haven't listened to it in three years), but for the most part was a whiff for myself and my fellow Wu stans. That project had his friend and fellow Wu member Ghostface Killah hiding in the background for many of the tracks (and officially appearing on two), but with its production handled primarily by Wyclef Jean co-conspirator Jerry Wonda and underground king Scram Jones, it was clear that Raekwon was desperate to be known as a solo artist who just so happened to have lived a past life as a vital part of one of the best, if not the best, hip hop groups in musical history.

Rae had it in his head that he needed to separate himself from the Wu-Tang connection as quickly as possible – aside from the two albums in his Only Built 4 Cuban Linx… series, he went out of his way to pick up beats from producers with no Clan affiliation, for the most part. Chef Raekwon was his own man, and he demanded to be treated as such. Which is why we ended up with albums such as Immobilarity, The Lex Diamonds Story, Shaolin vs. Wu-Tang (on which he caved and accepted beats from Bronze Nazareth and Cilvaringz), and Fly International Luxurious Art. Ignoring the Cuban Linx series, whose two entries are considered to be the man’s best work (the first one much more so than its sequel), The Wild is the natural progression of the sound Rae had been harvesting ever since his solo career began, and for the very first time, it features zero Wu-Tang Clan influence. Yep, he did this one all on his own, like a grown-up.

The Wild‘s tracklisting and production credits read like a lower-budget version of his previous album, which was likely a necessity as it, just like its last few predecessors, was released by Rae’s own label, Ice H2O Records. The guest list has been reduced significantly, although it still features at least one A-list rapper that some of you two may give a damn about. Production-wise, barring a couple of anomalies, all of the beats come from relative no-names desperate for their time in the sun, which, apparently, a Raekwon album released independently (although he’s still a big enough draw that he can get prime placement in stores across the United States, which is nice for him) can provide.

I understand that The Wild was met with critical praise, but what’s more interesting to me is that I can’t think of a single person, Raekwon included, that still talks about The Wild as though it were an underrated gem, an overlooked part of the Chef’s catalog deserving of a renaissance. Without any Wu-related diversions to be found (sort of – you’ll see what I mean later), The Wild is truly Raekwon’s “first” solo album, and I’ve spent far too many words and paragraphs trying to set up the actual body of the review, which I will start…

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1. THE WILD INTRO

I was about to write this rap album intro off as useless, but that was before I heard Raekwon utter the sentence, “We run this forest, bitch” (emphasis mine). So yeah.

2. THIS IS WHAT IT COMES TOO

I also have no idea why Rae couldn’t get a proofreader to clean up that song title, thanks for asking. The first single from The Wild, “This Is What It Comes Too” features our caffeinated host gliding over what sounds like producer Xtreme combined a breakbeat with a melody that resembles just enough of The Notorious B.I.G.’s “My Downfall” so as to not infringe on a copyright, and all of it actually fucking works, except for this long-ass sentence, which is messy and run-on as all hell. The Chef doubles down on his crime raps, his bread and butter, and his voice is both engaging and menacing, as though he would be the type of guy to tell you about his evil plans in a very long-winded manner before murdering you in cold blood. There is no goddamn way the rest of this album will sound this good, right? Right?

3. NOTHING

Substantially less successful is the Frank G-produced “Nothing”, which kicks off with one of those song intros where the artist plays every role in a conversation that quickly escalates into a hell-spawned cacophony, and leads into two uninspired crime-rap verses from the Chef, who, to his credit, doesn’t sound like he’s about to fall asleep at any moment, at least. The instrumental is responsible for “Nothing” failing, though, not our host: Frank G’s beat adds a soulful cream atop a bed of breakbeat, and it just sounds so fucking boring. The sound bite that gives the track its title is also fairly weak: surely one could have found a better use of the word “nothing” in a R&B song. At least we get to hear Raekwon call molly addicts “pillbillies”, which was kind of funny.

4. SKIT (BANG HEAD RIGHT)

Why?

5. MARVIN (FEAT. CEE-LO GREEN)

I could have done without Cee-Lo Green singing on the hook: he’s still got a fine voice, but he treats date rape like some people treat Santa Claus or God (he doesn’t believe it exists), so fuck that guy, he’s garbage, and I’m sure that comes as a huge disappointment for any of you two who were hoping I’d someday get back to the Goodie Mob discography. But “Marvin” was intriguing otherwise, as our host abandons his street raps and faux-Mafioso tics in order to relate the story of the life and death of the legendary Marvin Gaye. And Rae’s never been a bad storyteller, so his version of events isn’t bad, even as he focuses more on the fraught relationship Gaye had with his father than he does the man’s own problems with his relationships and his career. Producer Frank G gives the Chef adequate musical backing for him to fill the listener in on an artist they should look up immediately, although the odds are rock-solid that anyone listening to The Wild on purpose would already know who Marvin Gaye is. This was a strange left turn, but a welcome one.

6. CAN’T YOU SEE

Pretty fucking lazy. For one, there isn’t even a proper chorus (not that every song requires one, shut up, I’m trying to make a point here), as producer RoadsArt opts to let the (uncredited) sample ride out in between Raekwon’s two lifeless verses, and it sounds as though he recorded the “hook” with his iPhone while the song played from behind the closed door of the apartment three units down the hall. The instrumental feels like it was produced on a dare, as though RoadsArt figured simply anybody can create a soulful hip hop beat, which, no they can not. Rae’s vocals are dangerously close to narcoleptic territory on “Can’t You See” – I hope he didn’t drive home from the studio immediately afterward, as that would have put a lot of lives in potential danger. Even though his lyrics reveal his need to walk away from the criminal lifestyle in order to raise his children properly, I just wasn’t into this shit at all.

7. MY CORNER (FEAT. LIL WAYNE)

A tiny part of me wants to commend Raekwon for choosing to spit over a G Sparkz instrumental that is so clearly outside of his comfort zone, but my more rational, dickish side wants to laugh my ass off. G Sparkz’s beat is much more energy than our host has ever exhibited throughout his entire career, and he can’t help but sound like he’s just been shaken out of sleep during his verses. Allegedly Rae called up guest rapper Lil Wayne because he wanted to hear how he would sound over this type of beat, but the joke’s on him, because this kind of shit is positioned firmly within Weezy’s wheelhouse: perhaps if the Chef had secured a RZA instrumental, his experiment might have made more sense. As it stands, our host lets the world of “My Corner” topple around him like so many Jenga blocks. Wayne doesn’t come off as that good either, but he easily snatches the crown when compared to Raekwon’s lethargic performance.

8. SKIT (FUCK YOU UP CARD)

Absolutely nobody in the studio thought recording these skits would be a good idea, right?

9. M & N (FEAT. P.U.R.E.)

Other than as a creative writing exercise, “M & N” has no real point, as Raekwon and guest star P.U.R.E. (who sounds like a naïve Nas) limit themselves to mostly using words that start with the titular letters throughout their shared verses. Not sure why Rae decided on The Wild as being the project where he was more willing to branch out as an artist, but while “Marvin” was a gambit that paid off, “M & N” is so fucking gimmicky that it’s distracting, which never equates entertainment value for me. Dame Grease’s instrumental sounds like a throwaway DMX declined back in 2001, and both P.U.R.E. and the Chef appear tired of the self-imposed restriction before the song even begins. Bleh.

10. VISITING HOUR (FEAT. ANDRA DAY)

Chef Raekwon is trying to provide hip hop heads with fully realized songs on The Wild, as opposed to the shit-talking marathons most rap albums coming from artists who hit their peak in the 1990s tend to be, and “Visiting Hour” is a pretty decent example of what he’s capable of pulling off when he feels like trying. It isn’t great, but it’s certainly listenable (even if it’s kind of hilarious that producers Mally the Martian and Dan the Band uses the same breakbeat from “This Is What It Comes Too” for this far-more-dramatic song), and guest crooner Andra Day doesn’t sound bad, either. Our host raps from the point of view of an inmate who regrets how his life choices landed him in prison, but has accepted it as his destiny, although he does feel that others in his same situation could still find a way out. Not a Raekwon song I’d frequent, but it’s alright, and his heart was in the right place.

11. SKIT (BANG FALL DOWN)

Jesus fucking Christ.

12. THE REIGN

Essentially Chef Raekwon’s version of a Jay-Z album intro (back when he still did those), right down to the Mark Henry instrumental, which plays as a valiant attempt at a beat Just Blaze might have created and discarded. It isn’t bad, though: “The Reign” runs for far too long, but gives Wu-heads a showcase for Shallah Raekwon to spit the boasts-n-bullshit he’s lived off of for the past twenty-five years, expressing himself as that dude whose hard work has more than paid off, and now he’s too busy to be bothered by small, petty details such as deciding on a single euphemism for “money” (at least if you read into one of his bars literally here). Thumbs up, Chef. Probably could have just gotten a beat from Just Blaze, though.

13. CROWN OF THORNS

Pretty much the exact same song as “The Reign”, but I felt Rae’s braggadocio worked a bit better over J. Dot’s soul-tinged instrumental, which would have likely been a better fit for the likes of Ghostface Killah or even Drake. Raekwon may have long since run out of ways to convey the same message of dominance to his followers, but at least on “Crown of Thorns” he repackages well. There’s nothing especially Wu-esque about this shit – this is the type of song our host could have recorded even if the Clan had never existed in the first place. But I didn’t mind it.

14. PURPLE BRICK ROAD (FEAT. G-EAZY)

This one made me irrationally angry, though. Apparently wanting his own Eminem and Skylar Grey song, but on a much tighter budget, Chef Raekwon settles for Oakland rapper G-Eazy and a really goddamned fucking terrible “hook” from something called Stalking Gia. The J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League instrumental at least switches up a bit during the second verse, but it’s clear our host was hoping that “Purple Brick Road” would somehow catch the ears of radio station programmers who had long since given up on the Wu breaking through to the mainstream again. (This gamble seems to have worked at least once, as I remember hearing the second half of “Purple Brick Road” on satellite radio around the time The Wild was released.) G-Eazy doesn’t sound awful, and neither does our host, but the song still fucking blows. Remember back when Big Boi’s solo career was taking off and he dropped a solo single, “Follow Us”, with a dope Salaam Remi beat and catchy bars, but then the poppy emo bro band Vonnegutt delivered a chorus that completely destroyed the vibe and the song never recovered? That.

15. YOU HEAR ME

I was wondering how long it would take before Raekwon caved in to current trends in our chosen genre, and it finally happens on “You Hear Me”. This isn’t exactly a trap song, though, even with the lithe drums that come with the sound: it’s more trap-adjacent, which still allows for Raekwon to be himself, which doesn’t work out well, as he doesn’t display the energy required to survive within the environment. He’s fucking awful on here, folks. The RoadsArt instrumental damn near laps him multiple times. At least he had the good sense to bury this one toward the end of the project.

16. BANG OUTRO

Raekwon hates his fans. That’s the only plausible explanation for including this outro.

THE LAST WORD: Although The Wild works as a showcase for a more mature Raekwon, one who is more concerned with songwriting and career longevity than he is his Wu-Tang-connected past, that doesn’t mean that this is an entertaining product. Far from it: a lot of it kind of sucks. The Chef runs his own label imprint, which means he doesn’t have to answer to anybody when it comes to the whims he finds himself following, but that was very drastically needed here, as there is no fucking way The Wild would have made it out of the building had a third party listened to the thing before its release date. Rhyme-wise, Raekwon mostly does alright: his flow, at least when he isn’t half-asleep, has tightened a bit, and he’s obviously been working on his writing. The Wild tanks when it comes to the beat selection, however: perhaps he didn’t have quite as much money to work with here, but that doesn’t mean Rae needed to purchase everything his producers offered up. Most of the actual music on The Wild plays as the type of hip hop that would appear as backing music for actors portraying rappers in bad television shows, and we all know Raekwon has worked with The RZA and was once signed to Dr. Dre – he has connections, folks. There was no excuse for that shit. A couple of the experiments on The Wild are engaging enough to warrant a listen or two (the Marvin Gaye biography and “Visiting Hour” come to mind), but there’s really only one decent song on here, and its remix has far more value as a piece of music, so there’s no real reason for anybody to pick this one up. But speaking of that remix…

B-SIDE TO TRACK DOWN: THIS IS WHAT IT COMES TOO (REMIX) (FEAT. GHOSTFACE KILLAH)

Retains the same instrumental and the entirety of Raekwon’s performance from the original take, inserting a food-obsessed verse from guest Ghostface Killah smack in the middle of the track, and dear fucking Lord why didn’t this just take the place of the version on the album? I get that Raekwon was branching out from all Wu-related influences while recording The Wild and that this remix was merely a concession to his longtime fans, but shit, man. Ghost, in particular, sounds excited as hell to be sharing a song with his partner in rhyme, far more so than he does on the entirety of The Lost Tapes, and his verse (which sounds even better thanks to the breakbeat) is filled with kinetic energy that can’t help but extend to our host, whose own bars improbably sound better even though they’re exactly the same as before and we all know he didn’t record his parts while Pretty Toney was in the building, but let’s just pretend, okay? I bet The Wild would have received much more attention had its first single been a banging Rae and Ghost duet, but I understand what he was trying to do, I suppose.

-Max

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