The 12 Days of Wu-Mas #7 - My Gut Reaction: Inspectah Deck - Chamber No. 9 (July 12, 2019)

Jason “Inspectah Deck” Hunter hasn’t released an album in nine years. You two are forgiven if you think I’m wrong there, even though I’m not: aside from some mixtape appearances, the last project from Deck that hit store shelves was 2010’s Manifesto. Since then, he’s focused almost exclusively on his Czarface side project (alongside underground duo 7L & Esoteric) that has since dominated his time, primarily because Czarface has captured hip hop lightning in a bottle multiple times in their short time on this Earth, although Deck always makes time for his friends in the Wu-Tang Clan as needed.

As such, Chamber No. 9, his apparent favorite number or favorite chamber (you’ll see what I mean in a bit), is merely Inspectah Deck’s fourth solo album since 1999.

Again, I know that doesn’t sound right, but feel free to fact-check me.

Chamber No.9 hit virtual store shelves nine years after Manifesto, which was overstuffed with cameo appearances pulling our host all over the place. This project is a marked attempt at getting back to basics: with rapper-slash-producer Ross “Remedy” Filler spearheading this project alongside our host, Chamber No. 9 functions as a series reboot featuring music from mostly one dude, Danny Caiazzo, and only four guests stretched out over twelve tracks, only two of which have any direct ties to the Wu-Tang Clan. Basically, this was a calculated effort by Inspectah Deck to shift the focus back to himself, eschewing what could have been no-brainer home runs by not requesting instrumental backing from 7L or any of the Wu-Elements.

Distributed by Urban Icon Records, Chamber No. 9 was primarily available on Inspectah Deck’s own website, although it eventually popped up on different platforms. I understand why artists are wont to offer their work directly to their fans, but it feels like Deck very blatantly left his Czarface connections out of his marketing plan – Chamber No. 9 would have sold many more units had he even just had one single Esoteric cameo, since, like it or not, Czarface is what the man is best known for these days.

At least until my version of Wu-Massacre 2 becomes a reality.

And that, you two, is how you turn a write-up about Chamber No. 9 into a shameless plug for your Mixcloud.

1. SHAOLIN REBEL

Opening with a quick sound bite from a kung-fu flick, “Shaolin Rebel” reintroduces Inspectah Deck, the guy from the Wu-Tang Clan and not a key component of Czarface’s continued success. The fact that an altogether different excerpt is used in lieu of a chorus doubles down on this promise: if any of the man’s fans were turned off by his partnership with Esoteric (which, if that describes you, were you ever really a Deck fanatic to begin with?), Chamber No. 9 is for you and you alone. Which is why it’s so disappointing that this song fails to deliver: oh, it’s definitely a Deck solo song, as nobody else was invited to participate, but our host and producer Danny Caiazzo collaborate to bring Wu stans a sing that is merely just okay. It isn’t bad, nor is it decent – it’s just. My fear that Deck will falter outside of a competitive environment has not yet been allayed, as our host lazily drops boasts and pop culture references throughout his two verses. (Seriously, who needed to know that Inspectah Deck is aware of the existence of Stranger Things?) There’s nothing rebellious to be found here. So now I’m worried.

2. NO GOOD

“No Good” is the second song in a row where our host brags about smoking weed as though this were a rap album from the early 1990’s, but that has nothing to do with my actual critique: this shit is just awkward. Deck’s flow is fine and dandy over Caiazzo’s loop, at least until it very noticeably isn’t: it’s like he fell through a hole in the pocket and powered through the trauma. INS’s two verse aren’t bad otherwise: he touches on a childhood where he tried, but failed, to resist temptation, so he now wants the younger generation to do better, since he believes that “life as a shorty shouldn’t be so rough”, even though that quite is lifted from a far better song. Deck focuses on the topic at hand and does a decent-enough job with it, but in the past when he’s trafficked in this subject he’s always been flanked by like-minded individuals (see: “C.R.E.A.M.”, GZA’s “Cold World”), and I have to admit that the presence of a third party could have helped tremendously, even if it was just to distract me from the instrumental flailing about, rhythm be damned.

3. RUSSELL JONES
Before anyone gets too excited, let me point out that “Russell Jones” doesn’t really have all that much to do with Deck’s late Wu clanmate, the late Ol’ Dirty Bastard: aside from the intro, which features a young Dirt McGirt freestyling (and really poorly, I might add, but in his charming way), and the hook, during which our host tries to negotiate the use of Big Baby Jesus’s government name as slang for anything “dirty” or “unique”, “Russell Jones” is merely three verses (well, two-and-a-third – the final verse just ends abruptly) of the Rebel INS talking mad shit about his rhyming prowess. And he does this in a way that sucks: Caiazzo’s instrumental is generic garbage, and our host’s bars are tepid, both in the writing and in the delivery. Perhaps he doesn’t just need another rapper to compete with on a song – Inspectah Deck needs someone in the studio who isn’t afraid to tell him that his ideas are crap sometimes. Ugh. Could have at least gotten Dirty’s son, Young Dirty Bastard / Boy Jones, involved here, Deck.

4. CAN’T STAY AWAY

This one wasn’t bad, even if it was a bit gimmicky. On “Can’t Stay Away”, Inspectah Deck professes his undying love for hip hop, a musical genre in which he is wholly ensconced but still finds compelling, like an overenthusiastic teenager. This isn’t a negative trait, of course: I’m sure the vast majority of you two visit a site called Hip Hop Isn’t Dead because that’s also what you truly believe. INS drops the names of some of those who have inspired him at a Game-like frequency, even getting his GZA/Genius on at one point (“I was on Beat Street, Breakin’ to a Krush Groove”), all in service of the subject matter. The first of the two verses, especially, evokes The Notorious B.I.G.’s “Juicy” so much that Deck can’t help but directly reference Biggie’s song just so everyone can finally calm down. Biggie’s voice is also heard during the chorus, which consists of multiple vocal samples smushed together a la DJ Premier. Speaking of, Caiazzo’s instrumental never reaches Preemo-level heights, but it was fairly engaging, and Deck’s waxing poetically about a topic he’s clearly enamored with, which comes out in his performance.

5. NA NA NA

The universe wants everyone to hate this song: the sound bite that gets looped up beyond all reasonable expectations, which is then laid into the intro, the hook, and the instrumental itself, is annoying as shit. The song’s very title also tests the patience of hip hop heads of a certain age.

And yet.

“Na Na Na” isn’t great, no, but I kind of dug it once I figured out what Caiazzo was trying to accomplish. It features three full verses of Inspectah Deck boasts-n-bullshit, delivered especially well even though the bars themselves, when thrown under the microscope, are corny as shit, as is the hook. It’s as though “Na Na Na” was written by Deck’s kid for him to perform, at least writing-wise. But it isn’t meant to be taken seriously: lyrical scholars won’t be studying lines such as, “Even told the judge, ‘Don’t judge me’” or “I be lit on the reg just like your drunk pops,” anytime soon, but Deck sounds like he was having some fun in the booth that day. It helps that the instrumental, sound bite aside, is enjoyable and entertaining, and ending the audio track with an extended kung-fu flick sample is nostalgic in the best way. I liked it. Sue me.

6. CHAMBER NO. 9

Not to be confused with “9th Chamber” off of Uncontrolled Substance, or even “9th Chamber” from Manifesto (also known as “9th Chamber Pt. II” in some corners of the Interweb), “Chamber No. 9” does its duty as a title track by allowing our host ample room to play the role he’s best known for: lyrical swordsman from the Wu-Tang Clan. As though the kung-fu flick sound bite that leads into “Chamber No. 9” wasn’t enough for stans, the hook is comprised of lines from other Clan members lifted from various sources, just to reinforce the connection. You’d think he would have just invited some of his friends over to play, but no, Inspectah Deck tackles the dramatic-ish beat for dolo, his braggadocio far more convincing here than on the previous track, even if I have to admit to enjoying “Na Na Na” a tiny bit more. Still, this one wasn’t bad at all.

7. CERTIFIED

The Rebel INS sure does have an affinity for recycling song titles: a track called “Certified” previously ended up on The Resident Patient 2. This “Certified” isn’t the same, although if you’re betting that the subject matter on both are similar, then you’re far too conservative to bet on anything in the first place. Built around snatches of dialogue from Donnie Brasco that help set the theme, Deck fires off two verses painting himself as a hip hop hitman of sorts, taking out his opponents with a ballerina’s grace. Just kidding: at one point he says, “I let the burner fly, dickheads get circumcised” – he isn’t hiding in the shadows here. Caiazzo’s instrumental was strange to me at first, but its soulful loop ended up suiting Deck perfectly, as our host turns in his most assured performance of the evening thus far. Huh.

8. 24K (FEAT. HELLFIRE & CAPPADONNA)

Along with song titles, Inspectah Deck seems to also enjoy reusing bars, or at least one specific bar in particular: his first line outside of the chorus of “24K”, “I’m the next Nike ad, greatness is nothing,” pops up in only slightly varied forms on both Czarface Meets Ghostface and the Wu-Tang Clan’s A Better Tomorrow. Weird. Maybe he recorded all of these songs so far apart from one another that he simply forgot? Or, much more likely, he feels that the line itself is clever and wants to make sure everyone hears it. Regardless, it’s strange, and Deck should be called out for it. Anyway, “24K” isn’t that hot. The beginning of a three-track Boo Bundy production suite, “24K” comes equipped with a beat that isn’t sure if it wants to skew toward the radio or the older heads, splitting the difference and becoming nothing. Guest rapper Hellfire also delivers a subpar performance, his far-too-casual line readings dropping punchlines that fall like audio anvils and his cadence reminding me of another always-sarcastic-sounding Wu-affiliated artist, Holocaust. (*checks back cover art*…hmm, so I have another cameo from this guy to look forward to, huh? Yippee) Cappadonna, at least, sounded decent, even though his verse just… ends, and that’s all I got, as Deck himself sounds uninspired during his verse and (crappy) hook, which is made that much worse when one realizes that the chorus is supposed to be celebrating the concept of the Wu. Deck also gets off the line, “I fuck shit up daily like Donald Trump”, which, yeah, isn’t really the insult he thinks it is.

9. WHAT IT BE LIKE

The second movement from Boo Bundy is “What It Be Like”, which pairs some not-bad music with Inspectah Deck’s two verses, which are chock-full of ideas that could have been left off of the original version of “Word On The Street” way back in the day, which is to say, this is well-worn territory that our host has travelled through on many an occasion. That doesn’t mean this sucks, though: Deck is especially great at capturing the gritty details of the criminal lifestyle, showing the listener why it’s so tempting for so many in the first place. He sounds alright over the relatively low-key instrumental, but while the song itself was fine, you’ll just be hungry again in an hour.

10. GAME DON’T CHANGE

So much meh.

11. DOLLA SIGNS (FEAT. MZ. GEMINII)

Danny Caiazzo returns to the boards for the rest of Chamber No. 9, and not a moment too soon: “Game Don’t Change” was so dull that it likely chased listeners away from their phones, forcing them to live in the moment and gradually resenting our host for it. Anyway, “Dolla Signs” is a bit corny, since our host works his one-verse wonder around the repetitive obstacle that the phrase “Get that money!” provides throughout the beat (side note: why isn’t this song called “Get That Money”?), but aside from that, it isn’t terrible, kind of like an expanded version of his verse on the Wu’s “C.R.E.A.M.” that opens up its worldview to both the negative and positive aspects of having cash rule everything around you. I won’t ever need to listen to this again, but shrug.

12. WHO RUN IT (FEAT. HELLFIRE & STREETLIFE)

The final song of the program is “Who Run It”, a Caiazzo-produced exercise in politely tolerating low-energy shit-talk that only hardcore Wu stans will be able to sit through. The beat is jazz club-lite, like something you would hear in a bad movie that is 1930’s-adjacent, but works in a vocal sample (one that gives the track its name) in a fairly unique manner nonetheless. Too bad everyone sounds bored: Deck and Streetlife, a pair that I would have liked to have worked together more often earlier in both of their respective careers but am now indifferent to, are both mentally checked-out, Street’s more reasoned latter-day flow threatening to fall asleep mid-verse. The only guy thrilled to participate is a returning Hellfire, and, again, he sucks. What a blah ending to a blah album.

The final song on Chamber No. 9 is labelled as a bonus track.

13. FIRE (FEAT. TRIFE DIESEL)

Holy shit. How the fuck was “Fire” left off of the regular program? This song is great. Caiazzo’s production is far more energetic than anything else presented on Chamber No. 9, and Inspectah Deck rises to the challenge. Alongside guest Trife Diesel (who already has a song called “Fire” in his own catalog, and that shit bangs also), INS spits fucking flames that rival his best work in Czarface, while former Theodore Unit lynchpin Trife kills shit, taking the spot as the best Wu-affiliated weed carrier (since Streetlife has allegedly graduated to becoming a full-fledged member of the Clan, at least to hear Method Man tell it). “I’m vintage, authentic, my brain is tormented,” Diesel spits during his verse, and both he and Deck maintain that level of greatness, the Rebel’s performance being the finest of the entire. Goddamn. Album. Period.

Physical CD copies of Chamber No. 9 come with an additional bonus song, “Brothers Keeper”. I don’t have that version, but if you’ve heard the track, let us know if it’s worth the extra money below.

THE LAST WORD: Chamber No. 9 proves the argument I keep positing online to anyone who will listen: Inspectah Deck is at his best when he’s feeling challenged by another artist on songs. This is mostly why the Czarface efforts work so fucking well, although a lot of that is dependent on the chemistry between the Rebel INS and Esoteric, which is electric. This is also why most of his solo projects fail to connect with a lot of Wu stans: when left to his own devices, as he is for the vast majority of Chamber No. 9, his bars just hit the ground with a soft thud, as there is nothing and nobody around to bounce ideas off of.

So most of Chamber No 9 didn’t work for me, especially coming after a lengthy run of Czarface projects – maybe if this album had dropped shortly after the very first Czarface collaboration, I might have found it a bit more entertaining, but coming after five mostly stellar efforts alongside 7L & Esoteric, Chamber No. 9 is an audio representation of wasted potential. Deck’s rhymes, while sounding awfully tempered, aren’t bad, but they feel lifeless most of the time, an issue caused by the musical backing, as Danny Caiazzo and Boo Bundy fail to provide our host with the type of hardcore street shit Inspectah Deck tends to feed off of. When the very best song on your album is a bonus track, there’s a serious problem with the direction of the project. (That said, “Fire” is motherfucking flames and deserves a wider audience. It’s so good that I now kind-of want a Deck/Trife Diesel collaborative effort, especially since it feels like the man’s never working with Ghostface Killah again, so.)

It isn't fair for me to claim that I didn't like some of the other songs on here, but even though I enjoyed a few tracks in the moment (I see I enjoyed "Na Na Na" and the title track fine enough), I couldn't tell you what they sounded like right now if you put a gun to my head, that's how little impact they had on me. I can’t even pin Chamber No. 9’s failures on the guests, as they are so few and far between that they may as well not even exist (especially the dude that appears twice – he sounds terrible). So what we have here is an Inspectah Deck project with zero Czarface involvement, very little Wu-Tang influence (even with Remedy acting as the executive producer), and performances from our host that play as though he merely had to release a solo album in order to maintain the copyright on his own stage name. This is not a good recipe for a sleeper hit, you two. Chamber No. 9 should be closed off to the public – there’s nothing to see here. Except for “Fire”. Track that shit down immediately.

-Max

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Catch up on the Inspectah Deck story here.