My Gut Reaction: Busta Rhymes - Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God (October 30, 2020)

After eight years and multiple false starts, Busta Rhymes finally managed to drop his tenth solo album, Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God, last week. Its midnight release had been preceded by relentless promotion from Trevor “Busta Rhymes” Smith, who attempted to use everything from his friend Swizz Beatz’s Verzuz series (unsuccessfully) to the final debate between Joe Biden and some orange asshole to push his project into the current narrative.

Which was never really going to work, because it’s 2020 and the last Busta album we all seem to agree to be “good” was The Big Bang, which was released fourteen fucking years ago. But then again, I’m here writing about his tenth album after having been almost entirely unimpressed by Year Of The Dragon, his last full-length effort which he only managed to release for a short time through Google Play before it was deleted from the server, so obviously something went right for our erstwhile Dungeon Dragon.

That something? For me, anyway, it was the co-signs from his peers in the music industry over the past couple of years, all of whom allegedly listened to an early version of Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God and proclaimed it to be the man’s best work. Is the album we’re about to discuss today the same project folks such as Just Blaze and 9th Wonder got to hear first? Definitely not, but the fact that we’re even listening to a brand new Busta album in 2020 is a feat in and of itself.

 

Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God is positioned as a direct sequel to Trevor’s third solo album, 1998's E.L.E. (Extinction Level Event): The Final World Front, thereby erasing all of his follow-up projects from our timeline, probably. A lot has changed in the hip hop climate during the past twenty-two years, but you wouldn’t know by simply looking at the tracklist here, as it sprawls across twenty-two tracks in a way that was considered par for the course back in the late 1990’s and early 2000’s, but today just seems exhausting. A quick peek at the song titles confirms that, unlike the back half of Trevor’s discography, Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God reverts back to his prior conspiracy theory-believing self, concerned about how close the end of the world is to happening and whether or not it’s too late for any of us to do anything to prevent it. He may have been more concerned with Y2K than with climate change, but the overall fascination with impending doom still checks out.

Joining our host on his quest to replicate the hip hop landscape circa 2003, while simultaneously attempting to reclaim his relevancy within our chosen genre, are a mixture of contemporary names and the usual suspects. Guest artists such as Rapsody, Kendrick Lamar, and Anderson .Paak, seemingly chosen because those are names the kids of today would be most familiar with that could still convincingly record a song with Busta Rhymes without sounding like a complete fraud (sorry, not sorry to the Young Thugs and Travis Scotts of the world), share space with old-head names such as Nottz (who produces a good chunk of Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God), Swizz Beatz, Rockwilder, Pete Rock, DJ Scratch, the late Dilla, the lats Ol’ Dirty Bastard, and, because Trevor always feels the need to stunt on ‘em, Bell Biv DeVoe (kind of). Not invited to this party are any of the members from Trevor's crews, his current Conglomerate or his former Flipmode Squad, which is a shame, because I'm sure the likes of Rah Digga or even Stove God Cook$ would have enjoyed the placements. Comedian and current Fargo star Chris Rock provides what’s supposed to be a framing device for the project, taking the place of many, but not all, of the goofy-ass skits that Busta Rhymes would normally be compelled to include just to pad the album’s running time.

At seventy-eight minutes, there was hardly any room for them any goddamn way.

1. E.L.E. 2 INTRO (FEAT. CHRIS ROCK, RAKIM, & PETE ROCK)
Trevor can be very predictable sometimes. This rap album intro sets the overall tone with pretentious table-setting hyping up the impending apocalypse this project will allegedly attempt to document, with Busta’s altered vocals even tossing aside an alternate album title that, honestly, sounds much better than Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God. (Come on, man – The Second Coming? It was right there, dog!) However, over the course of this seven-minute-plus (!) track, cracks in our host’s façade begin to appear, as he shows the world that he is, in fact, aware of how his earlier work has been goofed upon, calling upon comedian-slash-Pookie Chris Rock top deliver the iconic, “There’s only five years left!!!” line as “E.L.E. 2 Intro” transitions into a actual real song (one produced by both Nottz and our host). Trevor’s flow is much calmer he than his better-known animated persona ever could have allowed, and his performance is almost spoken word-like in its somber tone, although I must be clear that he is rapping here, running through ha very truncated history of what transpired in the world ever since E.L.E. (Extinction Level Event): The Final World Front first dropped. When he gets to the year 2020, it’s very clear that his bars have been punched in very recently – hell, his voice even changes noticeably as he briefly laments the end of Obama’s presidency (without ever mentioning the dumpster fire’s name), so it’s obvious he’d been sitting on this one for quite a while. It’s here that the microphone is passed to, of all people, the God Rakim, who spits end times bars as concise as those of his best work, all taking place over musical backing lifting an extended sample from Nas’s “The World Is Yours”, sans drums but including some of Pete Rock’s vocals, a pleasing take on the concept “the calm before the storm”. Our host steps back into play to guide the listener into the project by attacking every system that dares to oppress his people, and awaaaaaaaaay we go.

2. THE PURGE
Producers Swizz Beatz and Avenue flip the sounds of an alarm and the motherfucking Emergency Broadcast System into, surprisingly, some dope-ass instrumental backing for Trevor’s one-verse wonder, which exists here merely to bridge the gap between the rap album intro and the rest of this project. Our host’s calm demeanor (this is a running theme here…oh, sorry, SPOILER ALERT!) makes you want to hunker down and take in every syllable, and on “The Purge” he knows it, using that power to his advantage, describing, again, the end times (as analogously to the present day as possible), and it’s goddamn captivating. Who knew the man still had it in him? I could have listened to this beat for five more minutes, it’s that catchy.

3. STRAP YOURSELF DOWN
Now this? This is the kind of shit I was afraid Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God would be populated with when it was first announced damn near thirty years ago (in hip hop years, of course). “Strap Yourself Down” burns through two separate instrumentals, possibly because even Busta Rhymes wasn’t himself convinced that he’d ever get another shot at a solo album again so he hedged his bets by reading from all of his notebooks filled with rhymes, all the words past the margin, but while the Peter Q. Rockefeller back half hits much harder than the late Dilla’s piece, it all still felt existentially hollow. Trevor utilizes three separate voices on here: his calmer self, his animated Busta Rhymes persona, and a third, obnoxious, loud-for-no-reason take that sounds like he recorded all of his bars in a studio located above a bowling alley and beneath another bowling alley. This one isn’t worth salvaging, folks: “Strap Yourself Down” is pure unadulterated blandness that hints at Trevor’s relevance being well past its sell-by date. Let’s move on quickly, shall we?

4. CZAR (FEAT. M.O.P.)
Chris Rock returns to feed Trevor’s ego a bit (as does a shouting Puff Daddy) before our host slides into a bizarrely elementary-ass flow over Rockwilder’s pounding instrumental that, to its credit, feels unstuck in time, as though it could have appeared on one of Busta’s earlier projects. Trevor strains his voice in an effort to keep the syllable count low during each bar, at least at first: “Fuck the place up until I turn 160” is an amusing line, and the extended M.O.P. callback (one that somehow warranted giving the Brownsville duo a feature credit, which is quite the flex for them but seriously, what the fuck?) at least accurately points out what all parties involved were aiming for here. “Czar”, which probably should have, at the very least, included a reference to the group CZARFACE (or a cameo from Inspectah Deck, that could have been interesting), isn’t a Mash Out Posse song, though: there’s energy here, but not the quasi-roid rage Fame and Billy tend to excel at. I still found this one to be entertaining, though: Trevor sounds obviously older, and the inadvertent comedy that comes with an older gentleman playing a young man’s sport isn’t lost on me, but it isn’t lost on him either, and throughout his two verses he talks enough shit to justify the creative decision to shout every goddamn bar (save for the hook), and honestly, I’d throw this one onto a playlist. No, really. It isn’t a great song, but I kind of dug it.

5. OUTTA MY MIND (FEAT. BELL BIV DEVOE)
All Busta Rhymes albums vacillate between street shit and (attempts at) radio-ready club bangers. I mean, pretty much all rap albums follow this recipe, but Trevor especially chases this dragon (the pun wasn’t intended, but you two may keep it, as a treat) with each project due to the past success he’s enjoyed. So “Outta My Mind” isn’t any sort of curveball (except regarding its placement on Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God: shifting from “Czar” to this is quite jarring). Hell, Busta’s even ridden extended song samples lifted from well-known sources before (see: The Big Bang’s “Touch It”, based on the Daft Punk song “Push” by Sapphire). But “Outta My Mind” indulges in our host’s worst tendencies in that it goes nowhere, but makes a lot of goddamn noise getting there. The instrumental, credited to Dready and Busta himself, chops the shit out of Bell Biv DeVoe’s “Poison”, which was a fucking mistake as that song is so beloved that its mere introductory drums and synth stabs are instantly distracting (to say nothing about the cribbing from the goddamned hook for Busta’s chorus), and that’s an obstacle our host just cannot overcome, even with the misdirection he provides when he throws in a callback to one of his own older hits, “Pass The Courvoisier, Part II”. I get why our host would strut in this particular direction, and I’m not even mad at it, but “Poison” is far too recognizable for this gambit to have ever paid off, and also, this song fucking sucked. Fight me.

6. E.L.E. 2 THE WRATH OF GOD (FEAT. MINISTER LOUIS FARRAKHAN)
Was this designed as an alternate rap album intro? Because that’s what this track essentially is. A lengthy sound bite from a Farrakhan speech (at least his feature credit here makes sense – he has a significant amount of screen time here) leads into a single, serious-minded Busta Rhymes verse, all of which takes place over some dramatic Busta and Nottz production, which then pummels the title of this song (and album) into the head of the listener before ending. Not a typical choice for Trevor, but at least we’re saved from having to hear an asinine skit here. Farrakhan’s sermon directly references Trump, and in turn so does Busta Rhymes, albeit briefly, as he draws a straight line from the current political climate to a world suffering from the wrath of (his) God. (He also sort-of endorses Kamala Harris, apparently?) Our host tries to appeal to the sense of reason he assumes is embedded into the listener, unleashing his deeper philosophical thoughts in a calmer cadence I like to refer to as ‘Professor Rhymes’, his hushed-but-excitable flow meshing well with the beat, which isn’t extravagant but fills its requirement. Busta is obviously very concerned with the end of the world as we know it (or just merely still concerned, come on, you get it), but at least he’s trying to throw us some advice as to how to reverse course, which is much more than whatever the fuck Kanye West has been using his political platform for. (Wanting to outlaw abortion and recording remixes with DaBaby, apparently.)

7. SLOW FLOW (FEAT. OL’ DIRTY BASTARD)
I listened to “Slow Flow” three goddamn times before writing these words to ensure that my stance was consistent, and even now I’m second-guessing myself, but here goes: I don’t hate this song, but my God are parts of it a goddamn nightmare. A nightmare I’ll likely revisit sooner rather than later, since it kind of grew on me. Does that make any sense to you? Because I don’t understand it, and such is the nature of a song featuring the late Ol’ Dirty Bastard. Nottz’s instrumental is the primary source of muscle confusion here: this is really two beats being played at the exact same time, and the 1980’s-era Atari bloops don’t mesh all that well with the moody mid-1990’s jazz-bap we’re presented with. The drums will get your neck moving up and down involuntarily, but you’ll be so thrown off that you won’t enjoy it at first. And the presence of ODB is yet another misdirect: aside from the song intro and possibly an ad-lib or two, Big Baby Osiris’s feature credit is wholly derived from an extended sample from his classic “Brooklyn Zoo” that is utilized here as the chorus. So far, I’m making this sound terrible, right? Here’s the thing: Busta Rhymes is at his most confident and assured state of the project thus far, his matter-of-fact flow deftly controlling the words falling out of his mouth as he spits like the consummate professional shit-talker he is. So “Slow Flow” represents the duality of Busta Rhymes, both the serious rap skill and the energetic theatrics that helped him stand out from the pack all those years ago. This song is a curio because it sounds both annoying as fuck and, somehow, entertaining as all get out. It’s a weird combination that makes no sense, and yet I imagine a lot of the readers will feel similarly, unless your tolerance of goofy sound effects posing as music is non-existent.

8. DON’T GO (FEAT. Q-TIP)
Kind of smooth as all hell. There’s even some truth in advertising here during the hook: Busta Rhymes truly does kill it with his slow flow, his rather calming presence taking the bulk of the pressure off of Focus’s simple-but-moving instrumental, and his verse, similar to the previous track, propels him back into the pantheon of top rappers in the game today. Trevor’s quest for hip hop dominance would seems plausible on “Don’t Go” even if Q-Tip’s guest verse had been removed, but the presence of his longtime friend helps provide a helpful contrast of styles, Kamaal’s abstract poetics meshing with our host’s nimble wordplay. Q-Top doesn’t quite sound at his A Tribe Called Quest, er, best here, but he’s fine, and besides, Busta Rhymes is the star attraction anyway, and he slays. “Don’t Go” wends with yet another Chris Rock interlude intended to remind the listener of what this project is called, which is to say, it was highly unnecessary, and having Rock recur so often throughout the album is going to cause some blowback.

9. BOOMP!
Very throwback-y, as Trevor’s sing-songy hook will queue up memories of earlier songs in his solo catalog such as “The Whole World Lookin’ At Me” or “Survival Hungry” (both from his sophomore effort When Disaster Strikes…), a project which “Boomp!” could slide onto seamlessly. This wasn’t the greatest song in the history of anything or anything – Trevor’s boasts-n-bullshit glide over DJ Scratch’s entertaining loop, but you’ll just be hungry in an hour. This plays more as an interlude or an appetizer complementing his main course, which can be seen as either the rest of this album or the very next track, depending on your outlook on our chosen genre, but it’s still enjoyable as hell, and who wouldn’t want to welcome DJ Scratch back into the world of Busta Rhymes projects?

10. TRUE INDEED
The DJ Premier-produced “True Indeed” isn’t a full meal, in that this one-verse wonder (with a brief break) runs a full minute shorter than “Boomp!”, and yet it’s still a motherfucking mouthful. Busta Rhymes chews on every tiny bit of scenery over what is somehow his very first Preemo beat, relishing the moment while seemingly inspired by his surroundings to ramp up his shit-talking. (Trevor has, of course, appeared on a DJ Premier instrumental before, having provided a guest verse to the Lil Fame and Termanology collaboration “Play Dirty” alongside Styles P., but “True Indeed” is the first he’s kept all to himself.) I don’t personally connect “Busta Rhymes” with “boom bap “, even though he’s obviously been a part of the game for the past seventy-seven years, so the mere concept of Trevor over Preemo wasn’t as compelling to me as it may have been for you (now Busta Rhymes’s elastic flow over Timbaland, I understand), but he sounds very goddamn great here, even if the ending kind of fucks everything up by retroactively turning this into a silly freestyle session that takes place before the main event. You’ll slurp this shit (no pun intended… just listen to the song, you’ll get it) up with a spoon up until that point, though: Busta is in complete control of his instrument, his demeanor, and, seemingly, his career, which is all one could ever ask for. Preemo’s beat also sounds solid, borrowing one of the hallmarks of his work (the multiple scratched-in vocal samples) while expanding on his sound, as “True Indeed” doesn’t feature many of the trappings he’s typically comfortable around.

11. MASTER FARD MUHAMMAD (FEAT. RICK ROSS)
Officer Rick Ross is a much more malleable rap presence than many would think. He’s a closet rap nerd, and said nerdiness has manifested in the man collaborating with many artists that, on paper, he has no business being around (see: Kanye West, Smoke DZA, Freddie Gibbs, Benny the Butcher, Smif-N-Wessun, etc.), those partnerships not entirely sucking because (a) Rozay is willing to adjust his performance to fit into the worlds of his various hosts, if not his subject matter (which, frustratingly but predictably, remains the same regardless of where he’s at), and (b) the subconscious way most hip hop heads generally lower their expectations whenever they see his name in the song credits (don’t lie, you do it too), which gives him a greater advantage, as all he has to do is “not suck” to collect his accolades at coat check. “Master Fard Muhammad”, understandably given how lengthy my explanation was, is not one of those collaborations: instead, the Hi-Tek and Terrace Martin instrumental signifies that this will be a Busta Rhymes attempt at a Ross-esque yacht rap song, so, while you likely weren’t going to do this anyway, don’t come into this expecting Ricky to stretch himself as an artist. I will say, however, that he sounded fine, while Trevor elevates the sub-genre with carefully considered, calming and collected bars that roll off his tongue like a Slinky taking the stairs. This is more of a victory lap for our host, dedicating this track to his mother while rhyming his ass off effortlessly, than chuckling about it toward the end in a way that makes this feel very old-school. The Chris Rock interlude can be skipped entirely, though.

12. YUUUU (FEAT. ANDERSON .PAAK)
The second single released from Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God is a collaboration with professional acquired taste Anderson .Paak, but while this pairing looks strange at first, it helps to remember that they share a common denominator named Dr. Dre. (Remember when Trevor was signed to Aftermath? Good times, man.) Paak produces “YUUUU” as well, Surrounding flat, thin drums with synth burps that could comingle with the “Slow Flow” beat favorably, so it was clearly the name brand recognition and not the actual music that led our host to throw this out to the masses first. Also, the title of “YUUUU” would seem to imply radio-ready party flavor, but this song is pretty violent, even with Paak’s sung hook, which, admittedly, I’m not mad at – it grows more and more contagious with each iteration. The guest’s verse is more hit-and-miss, vivid imagery such as, “Steppin’ out the Beamer, dirty Vans on” sharing space with trash threats like, “Bitch, I need my band, like, yesterday, bitch, yesterday”. Busta follows suit, turning in a much more aggressive verse than absolutely necessary (although following up the line, “I don’t really wanna talk ‘bout nothing” with the ad-lib, “Shit up, n---a!”, made me laugh out loud), but he starts feeling himself to the point that he croons some of his own vocals, and he doesn’t sound half bad. “YUUUU” is one of those tracks that sounds incrementally better with each listen, although be forewarned, there is a ceiling. But if you’re drunk, you’ll enjoy this one just fine.

13. OH NO
Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God seems to be laser-focused on recapturing the feel of Trevor’s earliest albums, and if that means this project ends up washed ashore like a boated twenty-two track carcass, so be it. Dready’s production on “Oh No”, as such, feels old as shit even though this is ostensibly a brand new song. (Perhaps the sound bite cameo from Waka Flocka, who apparently wasn’t a big enough artists to warrant a feature credit, timestamps this song? I mean, that guy doesn’t even really rap anymore.) Performance-wise, our host is having some fun in the booth, even if that doesn’t always translate for the audience. The understated, matter-of-fact rapid-fire flow is replaced with light melodic spitting at times, his bars much more aggressive than you’d expect (“N---a wondering who shot him / Grave located in ‘Pussy N---a Garden’”wais kind of funny, though). “Oh No” is okay, nothing more, nothing less, but it does sound like one of the better throwaway tracks off of When Disaster Strikes…, so mission accomplished?

14. THE DON & THE BOSS (FEAT. VYBZ KARTEL)
The first song Busta used to tease the existence of Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God (for real this time, unlike those myriad other efforts to drum up interest during the past eight years that ultmtalkey never landed on any project) is, unsurprisingly, another attempt at a club banger, as our host and his invited guest, dancehall artist (and convicted murderer – no really, check out his Wikipedia page, it’s in the very first sentence) Vybz Kartel speak very calmly and rationally about how much they love Nicki Minaj’s and Megan Thee Stallion’s asses. (Which is all well and good – who among us doesn’t appreciate a nice ass? – but it feels like Trevor only evoked Megan’s name because she happens to be very popular today and the kids will think he’s “with it” when he doesn’t even know what “it” is. I wonder whose name he dropped when he originally recorded this track, because this feels like a whole-ass relic trying to reach the youth.) The Schife instrumental actually isn’t bad: it kind of sounds like a sped-up take on MAGA Wayne’s “Lollipop” mixed with some climbing synths and not a lot of pressure put upon it from its parents to grow up to be a doctor or a lawyer. The decision to use “The Don & The Boss” as a way to sell futures in Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God is a headscratcher, as there is nothing about this shit that would ever drive a hip hop head to purchase or stream this project, as it seeming exists because Busta Rhymes stays trying to reach as broad a demographic as possible (and this shit doesn’t even have much of a dancehall sound to begin with). But as it stands, this… wasn’t bad? Maybe it’s the calm delivery from both our host and his invited guest that are throwing me off today, but this was… fine. Not good and not bad, just… fine. Weird. I kind of loved the beat, though. The interlude at the very end of the audio track sets up the concept for…

15. BEST I CAN (FEAT. RAPSODY)
…the most questionable and problematic track of the evening thus far, the 9th Wonder-produced “Best I Can”, which is a sort-of battle-of-the-sexes rap where Trevor and guest star Rapsody portray former partners who share a son and a volatile co-parenting relationship. And that’s me putting it lightly. “Best I Can” features Trevor’s point of view as delivered by both himself and Rapsody, as our host is pissed about how poorly he’s being treated when he only wishes to do right by his son, while his ex… (*checks notes*), yep, just wanted to make sure I got that right, his ex admits to sabotaging his efforts by demanding more in child support, blocking his visitation rights, and generally being “crazy” (a term Rapsody actually uses on herself here). This is fucked up, and reducing a complicated breakup down to “Busta is mad that Rapsody yelled at him in front of their child” is incredibly simplistic and condescending as fuck. The absolute worst part of “Best I Can”, however, is that Rapsody not only agreed to the theme, she wrote her verse solely from Busta’s perspective, as though the woman in this fictional relationship has absolutely no agency and is only capable of acting in the manner Trevor believes her to be. Life is a tangled web of complex issues and motivations, but on “Best I Can” Rapsody is brushed aside as “crazy”, and that’s coming from her, which definitely doesn’t seem like anything she would ever refer to herself as in the first place. This misogynistic claptrap has the potential to set back male/female relationships by hundreds of years… if anyone ever actually listened to this song, which, there’s the rub: at fifteen tracks in, most casual listeners will simply never get this far. The bars are well-written, Busta’s passionate performance standing out the most, and 9th’s beat certainly is an instrumental, but proving your own worth by tearing down somebody else’s, especially that of a Black woman, is a tightrope Busta Rhymes should never have thought of walking.

TL:DR – I hated this fucking song.

16. WHERE I BELONG (FEAT. MARIAH CAREY)
While screaming at his ex during the previous track, Trevor kept mentioning how being with his current partner helped him become a better man. So I guess sequencing “Where I belong” immediately after that horrifically sexist horseshit makes a tiny bit of sense, even if the tonal shift will fuck with your digestive tract. Reuniting Busta Rhymes with Mariah Carey after the success of their (shitty) 2002 collaboration “I Know What You Want” was a foregone conclusion the moment that track was programmed onto radio station playlists – what shocks me is how long it took for it to happen in the first place. It’s been such a long time, apparently, that our host doesn’t completely trust that the audience will be familiar with their original hit, choosing to run with a Rick Rock and Navi Beats instrumental that purposely resembles the music from “I Know What You Want”, setting this up as a direct sequel in all but name. (Rick Rock also produced “I Know What You Want”, so I get it.) This love rap is more of the same, as both Trevor and Mariah pitch woo onto one another (with our host offering to make his paramour arroz con pollo, which is an odd detail that stuck with me, not unlike Witchdoctor’s invitation to heat up a Stouffer’s lasagna on OutKast’s “Mamacita”). “Where I Belong” is mostly saccharine, radio-ready piffle that is most certainly being queued up as the next single from Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God, but to Trevor’s credit, there is one point where the artifice is shed and shit gets interesting, when he unleashes his rapid-fire speed-rap for absolutely no reason… and Mimi not only joins in with him for some of it, she manages to keep up, which, granted, would have been much more impressive had the song been any good, but still, it’s something. I feel bad that Busta couldn’t be bothered to bring back the Flipmode Squad on “Where I Belong”, seeing as they were heavily featured on its predecessor, but it’s probably best for everyone here that we choose to move the fuck on.

17. DEEP THOUGHT
Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God is all over the fucking place thematically, which I suppose makes this project a reasonably accurate depiction of the inside of Trevor’s head: ruminations on the end times mixed in with the shiny distractions present in everyday life. The deliberately slower pace “Deep Thought” delivers is a stark contract to, well, everything up to this point, but it works here because of how much it inspires our host to let his guard down and bar the fuck up, his one-verse wonder commanding the listener’s attention as his consciousness bobs and weaves around his anxieties, his observations, and his own instrumental, which lends the illusion of live instrumentation to the proceedings. The intro is ridiculous and obnoxious, but once our host steps into the spotlight, none of that other shit matters, as he spits to the beat as though that was what he was specifically bred to do. Shout-outs to the late Chris Lighty (whose Violator management group is evoked here, and Trevor’s correct, you really don’t hear that name all that much anymore) and ambiguous threats to some of his so-called peers abound, all packaged in a digestible, engaging performance that, again, makes the case for Busta Rhymes being more than just hip hop’s ringmaster. Huh.

18. THE YOUNG GOD SPEAKS
An interlude setting up…

19. LOOK OVER YOUR SHOULDER (FEAT. KENDRICK LAMAR)
… something you two may already be familiar with, especially if you’re a rap nerd like me and you enjoy listening to songs that you’re not supposed to hear, as “Look Over Your Shoulder”, allegedly recorded during the studio sessions for guest Kendrick Lamar’s Good Kid, M.A.A.D. City, was leaked a couple of years ago to the Interweb (as a part of that fake EP Bad Kid, Chill City), Michael Jackson sample and all, and the version that appears here is nearly the exact same song, with only its final minute trimmed off (which means there’s an unknown female’s verse missing from this official retail take). I remember enjoying this one back then (and also believing that it would never be released, thanks to how cost-prohibitive I assume sampling Michael fucking Jackson songs can be), and I like it still today. I can appreciate how Trevor took a song that wasn’t even his (although he did appear on the leaked version, of course) and managed to fit it seamlessly onto Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God, an album where nothing fits together properly, and Nottz’s instrumental is poignant and chops up Jackson’s vocals effectively, while the verses from Busta and K-Dot are entertaining as hell. Kendrick obviously sounds a bit younger and hungrier, but for his part, so does Busta Rhymes. Chris Rock was a late addition, of course, and honestly, I’m getting sick of him.

20. YOU WILL NEVER FIND ANOTHER ME (FEAT. MARY J. BLIGE)
Although this is classified as a “song”, it plays like an incomplete thought, with guest crooner Mary J. Blige commanding much more screen time than our ostensible host. Busta’s production on “You Will Never Find Another Me” (really couldn’t trim that title up a bit, buddy?) is somehow both theatrical and generic, and Trevor’s overall message (that there is only one Busta Rhymes and/or Mary J. Blige, so don’t bother trying to clone them) is lost in the banality of the situation. The track also ends before it ever truly gets going, leaving folks like myself to wonder why he would have even bothered with this glorified interlude when Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God is already crazy long as it is. Let’s press on.

21. FREEDOM? (FEAT. NIKKI GRIER)
We’re close to the end of the evening, which tends to be when Trevor brings out his more serious side, and Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God is no exception to the rule, as the Nottz-produced “Freedom?” functions as his (relatively surface level, but still) soapbox to discuss racial politics. He veers from the idea of white people claiming to be for the cause but never wanting to trade places, to brief asides about children being killed (presumably by the cops, but it really applies much more broadly, sadly), until Busta accepts his role as… an activist with a platform? Yeah, “Freedom?” is a conceptual mess, seemingly written in a caffeinated rush while our host was watching the news, an attempt to get his ideas out on paper that was never edited or reshaped before stepping into the booth. I have no doubt the man has hard opinions on what’s been happening in the world (he has been warning us about the end of the world for decades now, you know), but this track is proof that he needs someone else to filter his thoughts in order for them to not appear quite as scattershot. Crooner Nikki Grier lends the track a chorus, which, honestly, is fucking great, the best part of the entire song, as her performance is concise, passionate, and defiant in every possible way that Trevor’s isn’t. A shame, but what can you do?

22. SATANIC
The final song of the evening features a one-verse wonder from Busta Rhymes, who shifts the focus of the project back onto the upcoming apocalypse by connecting the dots to Satan himself (hence the track’s title) during a tight, calm performance that you’ll want to absorb every line from. After a couple of tracks where he seemed to be going through the motions, Trevor utilizes the Rockwilder-produced “Satanic” to speak his truth, and it’s clear he’s put some thought into his argument here, Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God could have ended after Trevor uttered his last line and this would have been a highlight of the record, but instead we get one final appearance from a grating Chris Rock, who comes across as so goddamn annoying that you’ll want to somehow reach into your earbud and punch him in his throat. His monologue-slash-chant sounds so unconvincing that it veers into self-parody, and it’s really fucking difficult to sit through. I never thought that Chris Rock would somehow become the worst goddamn contributor to Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God, but that’s the world we live in today. Until it ends, of course.

THE LAST WORD: In what would have been in the running as the biggest surprise of 2020 had this year not been a complete and utter shitshow otherwise, Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God is actually pretty entertaining. It isn’t perfect and is nowhere near a classic – there’s plenty of tracks on here that just don’t work and never should have been recorded in the first place. But all of Busta Rhymes’s early albums (save for his debut) are overlong bloated affairs with hit-or-miss qualities, so Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God ends up being an enjoyable throwback to the early 2000s, one that was so successful in its attempt that it even leaked to the Interweb nearly a month before its release date.

Don’t get me wrong, there is some utter garbage on Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God: the Mariah Carey collaboration simply wasn’t for me (its cloying beat wasn’t good the first time around when “I Know What You Want” dropped); and don’t ever get me started on “Best I Can” again. But what surprised me the most was how goddamn hungry Busta Rhymes sounded throughout – even on the tracks that didn’t completely work, Trevor’s mere presence lends both gravitas and a sense of nostalgia that had been missing outright from his past few projects (including the Dr. Dre polish of The Big Bang, let’s be real). In short, these sound like they could only have been Busta Rhymes songs (except for "Look Over Your Shoulder", and our host even manages to pull that off, too). And speaking of his, um, speaking, while our host does break out the boasts-n-bullshit frequently, it’s his more thoughtful bars that stand out throughout Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God, usually delivered in a welcomed hush that coerces the listener into paying closer attention. The production behind his vocals, while not what anyone would ever classify as “cohesive”, also hits harder than expected: Nottz delivers every time up to bat and should produce a full-length Busta Rhymes collaborative album soon, while Rockwilder, DJ Scratch, Swizz Beatz (I know, right?), Hi-Tek and Terrace Martin, Focus, a very welcome DJ Scratch, and even Trevor himself all provide solid musical backing.

Extinction Level Event 2: The Wrath of God isn’t the Busta Rhymes album we deserve, because we all lost faith in the guy over a decade ago. Instead, it’s the Busta Rhymes album he’s wanted to release for years, and because of his patience and hunger, this ends up in the top three of the man’s discography, no bullshit. It’s not perfect and won’t be a classic, but I thought it was mostly entertaining throughout, which is really all I want in a rap album.

*slow clap for Busta Rhymes*

-Max

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