Ice Cube - War & Peace Vol. 2 (The Peace Disc) (March 21, 2000)

Somehow War & Peace Vol. 2 (The Peace Disc) is only the sixth solo album from rapper-slash-actor-slash-professional basketball league founder O’Shea “Ice Cube” Jackson. It feels like we’ve been discussing this motherfucker forever, or at least since 2007, right? Obviously the man has been doing a lot since his entrance into our chosen genre via N.W.A.: aside from his whole actor/writer/director side gig, he’s released compilations, been a part of multiple soundtrack releases, and even found time to create an entirely separate group, Westside Connection (alongside his protégée Mack 10 and his friend WC). But the man hasn’t ever truly stepped away from his solo career, which is part of the reason we’re talking about today’s subject.

Ice Cube: War & Peace Vol. 1 (The War Disc) (November 17, 1998)

O'Shea Jackson's fifth solo album, the awkwardly-titled War & Peace Vol. 1 (The War Disc), came five years after his prior effort.  During the interim, he filled the days by dropping a compilation album (Bootlegs & B-Sides), a Westside Connection project (Bow Down), a film that is considered to be a cult classic today (Friday), his weed carrier Mack 10's debut, and not by recording a goddamn thing for the whispered-into-the-wind promise that was Helter Skelter, his collaborative album with former N.W.A. coworker Dr. Dre that was teased with the intense "Natural Born Killaz" off of Death Row's Murder Was The Case soundtrack.  Yeah, there was that one other track that Suge Knight got a hold of and gave to 2Pac instead, but aside from that, Cube and Dre never did shit to advance this particular narrative.  It's a shame, really: in the mid-1990s, that album could have changed lives and shit.  

Ice Cube - Bootlegs & B-Sides (November 22, 1994)

A lot of hip hop fans consider 1993's Lethal Injection to be the final album where rapper O'Shea Jackson, better known today as 21 Jump Street's Ice Cube, actually said anything of substance: they look to the rest of his output, leading up to the present day, as an example of their former hero resting on his family-movie laurels and living a not-so-angry life, which deflates the integrity of his modern-day lyricism.  I don't believe this to be true: Cube's third solo album, The Predator, is actually the end of that particular era: Lethal Injection contained some entertaining songs, but the politically-charged O'Shea had long been put to rest by the time he started recording that effort.  But for those of you still holding out hope, I present to you the subject of today's post.

1994's Bootlegs & B-Sides isn't a true Ice Cube album: instead, it's a compilation Priority Records put together of remixes and b-sides from O'Shea's career up to this point.  Although it was marketed otherwise, it didn't include any alternate versions of songs from the AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted or Death Certificate eras: instead, it focused solely on all of the extra material Cube recorded while he was working on The Predator and Lethal Injection.  Priority put this package together as a way to keep O'Shea's fans satiated while he avoided our chosen genre in favor of his blossoming movie career: his next solo album didn't see a release until four years later, in 1998.

Bootlegs & B-Sides is not a cohesive album and shouldn't be looked at as such.  Instead, it's simply a collection of random songs that Cube had in the vaults, and as is the case with these kind of projects, only a handful of the tracks on here are actually worthy of the man's solo catalog.  However, he was kind enough to release his revisionist history to the masses, so why the hell not, right?

Right?

1. ROBBIN' HOOD (CAUSE IT AIN'T ALL GOOD)

Bootlegs & B-Sides kicks off with a song that I believe O'Shea recorded especially for the project (as I couldn't find any other information for it). Over a 88 X Unit instrumental that could double as the score to a 1980's cop show (that's supposed to read as a compliment), Ice Cube explains away how his robbing of the rich and his giving to the poor, the “poor” being represented by “himself”, can be justified in a sociological context. Besides, he hates rich people, and they deserve what they get, right? Ignore the fact that Ice Cube is, and has been for quite a while now, one of the rich guys he is rallying against, and you may find this song enjoyable, in a “I wish Cube still rhymed like that”-kind of way. Not bad.

2. WHAT CAN I DO? (REMIX) (FEAT. MACK 10)

The first single from this compilation is a reworking of a Lethal Injection album track that is far more successful than the original incarnation. (It was previously released as “What Can I Do (Westside Remix)”, not to be confused with “What Can I Do (Eastside Remix)”, which was produced by A Tribe Called Quest's Ali Shaheed Muhammad in today's hip hop double take.) D'Maq and Lay Law's instrumental is much catchier than 88 X Unit's original track's was, and O'Shea sounds more invested in his performance, on which he describes a lifetime of malfeasance and the illegal activities that ultimately land him a life sentence. This remix is notable for introducing Cube's homeboy Mack 10, in a brief mid-song skit where he robs the McDonald's that Ice Cube just so happens to be working at (it was the only place that would hire him, given his prison record). His request for all the cash in the register and some food, “because [he's] Mack 10 'Foe Life!'”, is still funny to me, as it comes entirely out of left field . Speaking of out of left field...

Mack 10 - Mack 10 (June 20, 1995)

Dedrick Rolison, who records as the rapper Mack 10, is a California-based gangsta rapper who, for a time, was indistinguishable from his homey and mentor Ice Cube.  Seriously, this is how I really felt about the guy: when he made his debut on Cube's "What Can I Do? (Remix)", I couldn't tell if he was an entirely different person, or if Cube had gone all Kool Keith/Dr. Octagon on us.  It didn't help that both men rap about the exact same shit, although Dedrick has never really been able to pull off the politically-charged stuff.

Mack 10 is the poorly-titled debut album from Mack 10, released by Priority Records in 1995 under the guiding hand of O'Shea Jackson, so it isn't very surprising that it sounds pretty much like an Ice Cube project.  What is surprising is that it received a lot more attention than any of Cube's other offshoot projects (including his merry band of weed carriers in Da Lench Mob - whatever happened to them?).  This was due to the instant success of Dedrcik's first single, "Foe Life", which became both his theme song and his personal mantra, and a catchy one to boot.  In fact, that single reaching so many people (Mack 10 received a gold record for this effort) is possibly solely responsible for Ice Cube thinking that the supergroup Westside Connection, a trio consisting of himself, Dedrick, and West Coast stalwart WC, was a good idea in the first place.

Dedrick would later do his best to distinguish himself from Ice Cube, but for now, go ahead and pop Mack 10 into your CD player or onto your mp3 player of choice, and marvel at just how interchangeable the two men sound.

That's not a joke.  Do it.

1. MICKEY D'S LICK (INTRO)

This rap album intro is almost like a director's cut of the brief interlude that introduced Mack 10 to Ice Cube's fanbase during the latter's “What Can I Do (Remix)”. It's silly, but not any more so than any other rap album intro in recent memory, so I'll let it slide.

2. FOE LIFE

Dedrick describes himself as “nutty as they come” on the first line of this song: while he doesn't sound especially deranged (this is still West Coast gangsta rap: there's only so far that he can go), he's still more than serviceable on this first single-slash-title track, which encapsulates absolutely everything Mack 10 is in our chosen genre. O'Shea steps behind the boards to supply an instrumental that is unquestionably West Coast (and a banger, at that), while Dedrick supplies three verses that seem to alternate between a first-person narrative of being locked up in prison and general shit-talking, but it all fucking works. Mack 10 isn't the best rapper, but this shit is his domain, and he rules his kingdom with an iron fist. He even made his bars catchy enough for me to immediately remember upon pressing 'play': if you can still remember the words to a song that is seventeen years old, and you first heard it upon its initial release, that's a sign of steady longevity. My favorite line on here, “I'm broke as a motherfucker, n---a buy my single!”, is especially funny to me, because I actually owned the cassingle for “Foe Life”. This was an enjoyable, nostalgic ride through Inglewood.

3. WANTED DEAD (FEAT. ICE CUBE)

Dedrick leads police on a car chase over a O'Shea instrumental that sounds appropriate for the cause (meaning that it sounds pretty fucking good). The listener isn't provided with many clues as to why Mack 10 is being pursued in the first place (our host implies at one point that the cops hate him because he's friends with Ice Cube, because if it's one thing that the boys in blue won't ever forget, it's N.W.A.'s “Fuck The Police”), but you don't really need the details, seeing as our host is an engaging-enough presence, even if his rhymes could be a bit better. The story also seems to just end without warning. Cube's quick cameo during the ending skit is kind of funny, but the pair's dialogue doesn't help prove that Ice Cube and Mack 10 are supposed to be two separate people; it sounds like O'Shea is having a conversation with his id.

4. ON THEM THANGS (FEAT. THE MARY JANE GIRLS)

There's nothing original about sampling Rick James's “Mary Jane” for a rap song, and it's even worse when the chorus alters the words in order to fit the newer track's title. (What is impressive, however, is the fact that Dedrick allegedly convinced three of the four original Mary Jane Girls to actually perform the hook on here. They don't appear in the liner notes, but they are in the video.) Mack 10's ode to his rims isn't all bad, though: the beat, which is relaxing enough, reinforces his flow, which is that of a thugged-out CL Smooth, as he sticks to his topic in an engaging manner. The track runs a bit too long, and I could have done without him reminding listeners of the chorus to “Foe Life” so soon (“On Them Thangs” was Mack 10's second single), but this held up surprisingly well today. Still, if you're looking for something fresh, you should look elsewhere.

5. PIGEON COUP

I don't know what kind of political statement our host was trying to make by misspelling the word “coop” in the title of this skit. All I know is that, even though its title hews closely to that of the next track, it has no connection to that song, and is, as such, useless.

6. CHICKEN HAWK (FEAT. ICE CUBE)

On which the listener receives a hint as to why Mack 10 may not be very well-liked by the authorities: Mack 10 brags about being a menace to society, even boasting about kidnapping and murdering someone's girlfriend (or wife, or whatever). Up to this point, you picture Dedrick as a petty thief, but he cements his status as a potential homicidal maniac on here. Disturbing subject matter aside, this song was merely alright: Dr. Jam's beat is decent and non-intrusive, and our host adapts well enough. Thanks to Cube's appearance on the hook, though, I couldn't help but think of him as the Tyler Durden to Mack 10's anonymous narrator. That can't be just me, right?

7. HERE COMES THE G

I couldn't get into this track, as Crazy Toones's work behind the boards sounds so generically Left Coast that it was probably used in a television commercial for the California tourism board. Mack 10's bars aren't exactly special, either: everything about “Here Comes The G” comes off as paint-by-numbers gangsta rap. Sure, it would sound inoffensive enough at a backyard barbecue, but is this what gangsta rap has come to? Not exactly: as evidence, I present to you two the very next track, which is the antithesis to this horseshit.

8. WESTSIDE SLAUGHTERHOUSE (FEAT. ICE CUBE & WC)

This monster collaboration, possibly the best song in Mack 10's solo catalog, is responsible for two things: (a) the formation of the rap supergroup Westside Connection, and (b) Ice Cube's beef with Common (a battle he unanimously lost to the Chicago poet-slash-actor-slash-rapper-slash-Drake's biggest fan), which was instigated after Cube took offense at Lonnie's ode to hip hop, “I Used To Love H.E.R.”. O'Shea's first verse contains the obvious potshot (“Used to love H.E.R. / mad 'cause we fucked her / pussy-whipped bitch with no Common Sense”), but Mack 10 shows signs of solidarity with his employer, as his opening salvo could also be interpreted as a dis (“When you see her she's a goner / moved to California / blew the bitch up and put the gangsta twist on her”). WC, who gained wider exposure because of this very song, avoids direct confrontation but still bests his peers behind the mic, winning all of the Interweb for one full week mainly because of the way he pronounces the word “vagina” over the banging Madness 4 Real instrumental. Listen to the track and you'll see what I mean. This song is the shit, even with Cube's ill-advised extended OJ Simpson metaphor toward the end.

9. N----S DOG SCRAPING

Another skit with a misspelled title? Sigh.

10. ARMED & DANGEROUS

Our host sounds oddly younger on “Armed & Dangerous” than he does on every other aspect of this project, and I'm even stretching as far as to include the album artwork and all of the promotional material Priority Records could come up with. Since our host's self-produced beat sucks cock, I'd be willing to believe that this was an early demo remastered for inclusion on Mack 10, even though it doesn't actually show even the most minute amount of promise like a normal, decent demo reel would. It's probably best that we skip ahead to the next track...now.

11. H-O-E-K (FEAT. K-DEE)

Mack 10 and guest star K-Dee spend the length of an entire song going out of their way to disrespect women (or, more specifically, “hos”), although Mack 10's verse is more focused on dissing groupies who fuck famous people because they can. K-Dee is more obsessed with fucking, but as this is a gangsta rap record, that was to be expected. The title is a bit disturbing if you actually believe that any of these guys would actually murder their various sources of potentially disease-free pussy, I suppose. Cube's beat is actually pretty fucking good: it isn't exactly wasted on this track, since both rappers sound decent enough, but one if left wishing that it saw better days. The title also unintentionally spells out the last name of the chihuahua half of Ren & Stimpy, which always make me chuckle.

12. 10 MILLION WAYS

I understand this track is almost universally hated by Mack 10's fans, but I don't know why: this shit actually sounds much better today than most of the fucking album. Our host's (dope) instrumental is the most experimental of the entire project (as it sounds as though it was shipped directly from New York), and Mack 10 certainly seems game, spitting three verses that are much more lyrical than everything else on here (aside from maybe “Westside Slaughterhouse”). Although the hook is fucking terrible, and the singing toward the end is both disorienting and downright offensive to the ears, this song still bangs today. Maybe I'm in the minority (as I am on a lot of these things, apparently), but I thought this shit rocked. I'm interested in hearing your opinions.

13. MOZI-WOZI

Because his audience apparently demanded it, Mack 10 finally gets to the mandatory sex rap with this ode to promiscuous sex in one of those motels where you can rent a room by the hour. Our host doesn't sound natural in this environment: nowhere is this more obvious than when he actually pronounces the song's title. Reducing women down to what he believes to be their “very last compound” (on all fours, ass up and face down) probably did him no favors with the female audience (and, later, with his now-ex-wife T-Box, but I digress), but it's a sex rap on a West Coast gangsta rap album: it's exactly what you would expect to hear. I'm not saying the song is any good, though.

14. MACK 10'S THE NAME

88 X Unit's beat is pretty fucking sweet: it sounds like something Ice Cube's old N.W.A. partner MC Ren might have used right after that crew's breakup. Too bad our host's lyrics fucking suck: for some reason, he devoted this track to his rap name, and at the very end he even advises other up-and-coming rappers to find a different handle, because he's got this. I've heard dumber reasons to write a rap song (have you heard what gets played on rap radio today?), but Mack 10's bars don't even come close to vindicating this decision. This phenomenon hasn't happened on this project up until now, though, so I'll give the man credit: Mack 10 has remained fairly consistent behind the mic even when his beats failed him. Still a weird way to close things out, though.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Although it isn't a very challenging debut, Mack 10 succeeds in its primary purpose, in that it's actually entertaining. The music presented on here is wholly representative of what the West Coast sound was perceived to be back in 1995, and Dedrick's flow, although not great by any means, fits over most of them like a glove. Mack 10 rarely strays from what he knows: indeed, pretty much every single one of the songs on here talks about the exact same shit. But he sounds fairly convincing on the majority of Mack 10, spitting his street rhymes and braggadocio with confidence and with a healthy dose of (possibly unintentional) humor. Mack 10 shouldn't be looked at as a gateway album for anybody to use when trying to get into gangsta rap, but for what it is (essentially a recounting of a day in the life of our host), it's interesting enough.

BUY OR BURN? If you can find it for cheap, I would recommend a purchase. Only a handful of tracks are must-hears, but the rest of Mack 10 is fairly entertaining, so at least it won't be a waste of your money or time.

BEST TRACKS: “Westside Slaughterhouse”; “10 Million Ways”; “Foe Life”; “Wanted Dead”

-Max

(*clears throat, straightens necktie, continues*)

3. 24 WIT AN L

I remember liking this song when I first got Bootlegs & B-Sides (on cassette tape!), but today I found Cube's self-produced instrumental corny as fuck. Regardless, this track, which began its life as a b-side to The Predator's “Check Yo Self”, is much bleaker today than the goofy instrumental may lead you to believe. O'Shea runs down the details of living in South Central Los Angeles, an area where a vicious, violent cycle plays out between its residents and the LAPD on a daily basis. Cube glamorizes the criminal aspects of this life even as he admonishes his opponents who are trying to steal from him, even after he explains that all he owns is “a fat bunch of nothing”; I guess Jerry Heller and Eazy-E really did a number on his finances. This still sounded alright enough, but the beat and sampled vocal on the hook alleviate the tension in the worst kind of way.

4. YOU KNOW HOW WE DO IT (REMIX)

Although this remake uses the same pounding drums from The Mary Jane Girls's “All Night Long” and the same Evelyn “Champagne” King vocal sample from “The Show Is Over” that the original version of this track employed, this remix is far more upbeat. I preferred Cube's slower, more menacing delivery on the original: on here he recites the same bars, but it almost seems like he's trying to run through them as quickly as he can so that he can go see a girl about some pussy. O'Shea throws listeners for a loop, however, when, immediately after completing his third verse, he launches into some exclusive new lyrics that celebrate the overall remix-iness of the whole affair. The new bars aren't great, and they don't prove that Ice Cube is the voice of his generation or anything, but this reimagining could have been worse.

5. 2 N THE MORNING

This b-side to the original “You Know How We Do It” is a guilty pleasure dedicated to the type of woman who agrees to come over to your house for a booty call during the titular timeframe. Lay Law's instrumental is funky in all the right ways, while O'Shea sounds as lecherous as ever: one of his pickup lines (for a woman he meets at a backyard barbecue, whose main descriptors are having both a big ass and twenty dollars' worth of pot on her person) is actually, “What's up with these nuts in your mouth?” Seriously? And, of course, this being his song, he's banging that same chick within four bars. Our host even manages to sneak in a warning to those in the audience who were most likely to date-rape a chick before hearing Cube's words cautioning otherwise. I liked this as a b-side back in the day, and I still found it enjoyable enough today, although O'Shea the horndog fails to say anything significant on here. In fact, our host's lyrics are fucking terrible on here. Still, though, entertaining. Sue me.

6. CHECK YO SELF (REMIX) (FEAT. DAS EFX)

Unless you're been living under a rock for the past twenty years or your only exposure to Ice Cube's music is from the shitty Todd Phillips film Due Date (where the original version of “Check Yo' Self" plays), then this is probably the version of this song that you're most familiar with. Producers DJ Pooh and Cube himself swipe liberally from the instrumental to Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five's “The Message”, and Cube obliges by cleaning up his rhymes a bit (this was the version used for the music video, if you'll recall) and aping that classic song near the end. Guest stars Das EFX work the chorus just as they did before, with the exact same results: when they don't really say all that much in the first place, it's easy for them to sound like professionals. I like the album version more, but this remix became popular for a very good reason.

7. YOU DON'T WANNA FUCK WIT THESE (UNRELEASED '93 SHIT)

The timeframe described in the title would place this track in the Lethal Injection era, so it makes sense that the lyricism on here isn't as barbed as one would like. Still, this is the angriest Cube has sounded on the compilation thus far. Over a Dr. Jam / Madness 4 Real beat that wouldn't sound out of place on a Kool G Rap album, O'Shea Jackson lays out his mission statement for the listeners who still haven't figured out what he's (apparently) all about, and he does a pretty good job with it, even if some of the insults seem to come out of nowhere.

8. LIL' ASS GEE (EERIE GUMBO REMIX) (FEAT. N.O. JOE)

I used to love this track, a reworking of a Lethal Injection track which was the second single from Bootlegs & B-Sides, but I couldn't really get into it today. N.O. Joe's remix is much eerier than the album cut, which is appreciated, and the subject matter remains dark and depressing (this track is about the kids who grow up into a violent gang-related lifestyle because that's all they know, and the children entering the life keep getting younger and younger). Cube's dedication at the very end is also to the point: why would any straight male want to risk going to prison and see “more assholes than pussy-holes when they get you into the system”? That's the least appealing description of gangbanging that I have ever heard. But the song itself doesn't hit me as hard as it used to. I remember the potency of this track getting diluted even further on the silly, unnecessary radio edit, though.

9. MY SKIN IS MY SIN (FEAT. WC)

Ice Cube has always been a better rapper when he points out flaws in today's society, such as the blatant racism that permeates our culture even today, let alone when “My Skin Is My Sin” was released as a b-side to Lethal Injection's “Really Doe”. Over a Dr. Jam / Madness 4 Real instrumental that bangs, O'Shea unleashes two verses of fury, and then, without any warning, guest star WC, the only other rapper to actually lend a verse to this entire compilation, swoops in and destroys the proceedings with one of the most racially-charged performances I've ever heard from him. The only weak link on here was the shitty hook, but as an avid fan of rap music, I'm willing to let that slide when the rest of the song is this good.

10. IT WAS A GOOD DAY (REMIX)

For the most part, I believe that, in hip hop, a remix has to have a reason to exist. It has to explore the same material in a new and exciting way, or it has to answer underlying questions that the listener didn't even know they had, or it has to feature Busta Rhymes. (Oddly, this rule applies just as much today as it did back in the mid-to-late 1990s.) This self-produced remake of Cube's most mainstream single “It Was A Good Day” achieves none of these feats: the backing music is a blander sample (from “Let's Do It Again!” by The Staple Singers, which is a good song otherwise) looped to holy hell, and the general feel of the track is downgraded to “generic”. This remix is also for the clean radio edit, so there aren't even any curses in Cube's classic tale, a grueling ordeal that ends in victory when the Goodyear blimp acknowledges his existence in a career field that he didn't even realize he was a part of. In sort, this remix should never have been recorded. Especially when the original song was fucking perfect.

11. U AIN'T GONNA TAKE MY LIFE

Cube held this one back from the studio sessions for The Predator, marking it as a b-side for “Wicked”, and after hearing it again for the first time in a while, the decision makes perfect sense: the chorus apes En Vogue's “My Lovin' (You're Never Gonna Get It”, which is both really fucking stupid and nonsensical for a track on which O'Shea blatantly goes after crooked Caucasian police officers. The contrast is jarring, so much so that you will sit there waiting for the song to just fucking end already. This was fairly awful, but hey, this is only the second truly terrible song on the project, so whoever sequenced Bootlegs & B-Sides deserves a medal. Or a cookie. Or a cookie-shaped medallion. One of those.

12. WHEN I GET TO HEAVEN (REMIX)

Apparently our host decided that the overall message on Lethal Injection's “When I Get To Heaven” needed to be heard by absolutely everybody, since Mr. Woody's remix aims for pop radio even with the inclusion of a goofy chorus with one too many n-words for white people to feel entirely comfortable. Did this song need a remix? It's arguable, but I ultimately believe that the first version of this material served its purpose just fine. So, yeah, I found this to be a waste of data stored on a plastic disc.

13. D'VOIDOFPOPN---AFIEDMEGAMIX

Bootlegs & B-Sides ends with a curious inclusion, a mix of most of Cube's most well-known past tracks blended together for no real reason. It's interesting to listen to once, but it's much more fun to listen to the source materials in their respective entirety. And with that, we're done.

FINAL THOUGHTS: It's unfair to look at Ice Cube's Bootlegs & B-Sides as a full album, as that was obviously not Priority's intention: this project is a cash-in first and a document of an artist's achievements in an alternate reality second. But for what it is, it starts off very strongly, as Cube's performances skew more heavily toward his angry, observant persona than they do toward his more current pop leanings and family-friendly alter ego. Only the first half of Bootlegs & B-Sides is worthy of any real attention, though: the back end (save for one track, “My Skin Is My Sin”) is overloaded with missives that are as subtle as a sledgehammer to your teeth. I get it, Ice Cube: you hate cops and refuse to hide your racism in a society that you feel chooses not to accept you as simply another human being! That's fine and all, but there are other things you can write about, especially since you had already mastered this particular sub-genre and left these versions off of your albums for very valid reasons. Bootlegs & B-Sides is nonessential, but there are some gems on here that hold up, so that was nice.

BUY OR BURN? This project was designed for Ice Cube completists, but if you can find it for a buck or two, you may as well pick it up, as the highs of the first half completely obscure the shit bringing up the rear.

BEST TRACKS: “My Skin Is My Sin”; “What Can I Do? (Remix)”; “You Don't Wanna Fuck Wit These (Unreleased '93 Shit)”; “”Robbin' Hood (Cause It Ain't All Good”; “Check Yo' Self (Remix)”; “2 N The Morning”

-Max

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Catch up with your Ice Cube posts while you're supposed to be working or studying or something.

Reader Review: Ice Cube - Raw Footage (August 19, 2008)

(Today's Reader Review comes from Taylor, who took it upon himself to look into one of Ice Cube's later albums, 2008's Raw Footage. Given that my current schedule has me avoiding all of his newer stuff at all costs, I figured this would be the best way to open up a discussion about O'Shea Jackson. Leave Taylor some comments below.)

My first taste of Ice Cube (O'Shea Jackson) came after listening to two of his songs in the virtual streets of San Andreas, “It Was a Good Day” and “Check Yo Self (Remix)”. Quickly afterward, I acted on instinct, purchasing The Predator (which, conveniently, contained both tracks...well, the original version of “Check Yo' Self”, anyway). Which I thought to be the shit.

Years later, I've come to realized that most everything released today is glossed-up, polished, and comes mostly from the South. I don't treat The Predator with the same level of reverence as I did (after listening to AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted and Death Certificate, I put The Predator aside), but I still like the album as a whole. So when I heard that Ice Cube was going to release Raw Footage, “his most political album since The Predator” (Wikipedia's words, not mine), I had my doubts that it would live up to my expectations.

Many people hoped that Raw Footage would be Ice Cube's return to the raw, unfiltered political lyrics that defined his early career. As the release date grew closer, reviews poured in declaring the album to be the best thing since sliced bread, and that Ice Cube was at the top of his game. I wanted to believe the critics so badly that I went out, copped a copy of the album, popped it into my CD player, listened to it all the way through, and then it quickly ended up on the shelf collecting dust.

Years later, I find myself writing a review of Raw Footage. I haven't listened to this in a while: in fact, I sold my original copy of the album on eBay for the low price of three dollars (hardly enough to recoup the fourteen bucks I spent on the thing). You may be asking yourself, can Ice Cube bring back his raw, unfiltered style and make Raw Footage his most political album yet?

The obvious answer to these questions and a lot more is: no.

1. WHAT IS A PYROCLASTIC FLOW? (FEAT. KEITH DAVID)

Man, Ice Cube really likes to treat his albums like films, huh? This useless rap album intro (performed by actor Keith David, who is no way underground or gangsta) is overly dramatic, overly distracting, and seems to set up a movie that you would not spend your money to see. And this is supposed to be Ice Cube's “most political album since The Predator”, mind you.

2. I GOT MY LOCS ON (FEAT. YOUNG JEEZY)

Did Ice Cube really think this Southern abomination pretending to be a West Coast bomb would work on Raw Footage? I can see that being with Ice Cube has really inspired Young Jeezy lyrically, as he adds nothing of value to the track and sucks donkey dick. Ice Cube fares no better; hell, at this point he's probably on the same level as Young Jeezy lyrically. This entire song can be best described in one word: ass.

3. IT TAKES A NATION

Ice Cube mentions in the beginning of the song that he is the eighth wonder of the world, but nothing on this track warrants that self-applied moniker. Cube declares that he won't concede to the mainstream and tells Viacom, Clear Channel and Radio One to fuck off, but I don't really buy that bullshit, especially since his previous album had songs that appealed to a mainstream audience that aired on both Clear Channel and Radio One stations, and he's made movies that appeal specifically to family audiences, which is far from the gangsta persona he believes he still embodies. Hey O'Shea, how's that movie deal with Disney coming along?

4. GANGSTA RAP MADE ME DO IT

I have to admit, this a good song to bang to when you're cruising down the streets of your hood (or the streets of Midnight Club: Los Angeles), but when you're forced to sit down and listen to the lyrics, you'll find the lyrical holes becoming more evident, bringing the entire song down. There was a video made for this song that but I barely remember anything from. Well, except for the fact that it proved Cube has not gotten with the times (in 2008); what, no Hurricane Katrina reference?

5. HOOD MENTALITY (FEAT. KEITH DAVID)

Ice Cube needs to learn that albums that think of themselves as movies are supposed to have a consistent storyline. The Predator didn't have any of this Keith David movie bullshit. Anyway, the bouncy beat does not fit well with Cube's lyrics about living with a hood mentality (or was he talking about other people who want to live with hood mentality? I couldn't tell). I was surprised when he mentioned he wanted to make everybody around him suffer: I guess this is why he created the Are We There Yet? movie series (and that sitcom of the same name on TBS).

6. WHY ME? (FEAT. MUSIQ SOULCHILD)

I really like the beat on this one, even though it might be a bit too peppy, and Musiq Soulchild sounds alright on the chorus. However, I'm pretty sure that Cube rapped about the exact same topic just one track ago. Or was it on a previous album? It's all starting to blend together for me. Regardless, this was just okay.

7. COLD PLACES

Meh.

8. JACK N THE BOX (FEAT. KEITH DAVID)

With that title, I assumed that Cube would rhyme about the popular fast food chain that seems to be prominent in California, but instead, he uses the allotted time to talk about how great he is and how he's stacking much more money then you, thereby undermining and compromising his own political views. What, you thought he bragged about money on Death Certificate? Nope! 50 Cent's production team Tha Bizness provides a banging beat, but it's marred by the fact that they literally copied it from a song called “Ghetto Commandments”, which was featured on the soundtrack for an Adult Swim special called Freaknik: The Musical, which kind of obscures this song's very existence since there are two songs with the same identical beat, one featuring Ice Cube and the other starring both Mac Maine and Snoop Dogg. Still, it would have been hilarious if he had literally rapped about Jack In The Box and their delicious food.

9. DO YA THING

Yawn. The only notable thing about this track is that it somehow reached number fifteen on the Billboard “Bubbling Under Hot 100 Singles” chart, but this fact is rendered meaningless by the fact that “Weird Al” Yankovic reached number one on the very same chart, and he's a comedian who parodies pop songs! (Not to say he can't rap, though.) Moving on...

10. THANK GOD

Another shitty cinematic intro which leads into a shitty song. The best thing about this is the instrumental, which Cube wastes as though it were just another Coors Light paycheck. I thought this song would be about how the police, various corporations, and political figures have made everybody's life hard and what he would do to combat this, but I guess I was wrong. Damn you, O'Shea, for lying to me during the intro!

11. HERE HE COME (FEAT. DOUGHBOY)

I don't think anybody would really enjoy listening to Ice Cube and his weed-carrying son Doughboy rhyme over an ironically godawful shitstorm of a beat (ironic because the producer's name is Symphony, as in “a harmonious combination of elements”). Pass!

12. GET MONEY, SPEND MONEY, NO MONEY

This track is supposed to be about poor people who get money, and then foolishly spend all of their money very quickly, only finding themselves to be poor again. I thought this song was going to resonate with me, but then I realized that Ice Cube has lots of money: why hasn't he given any of that money to the poor? Emile's beat is alright, but that's where it stops.

13. GET USE TO IT (FEAT. WC & THE GAME)

No fucking way O'Shea! I don't have to “Get Use To It” (“it” being improper grammar?), I can do something about it! Maybe I can concoct a plan to get rid of Ice Cube and The Game while somehow leaving WC intact. Hmmmm.....

14. TOMORROW

I like this song, but I fucking love this beat. Now this is what I'm talking about:for the first time on Raw Footage, Ice Cube sounds somewhat revitalized (I say “somewhat” because he still hasn't fully kicked the bullshit), rapping his ass off. I guess he was waiting for the proper musical backing, but with only two tracks left, this comes in too late. Still, I liked this shit.

15. STAND TALL

Cube made a smart decision putting these last few tracks together. This beat is a bit more mellow, but it's still amazing nonetheless. O'Shea sounds reinvigorated (he's staying on topic, at least); now if only he had enlisted more producers among the likes of Warryn Campbell and DJ Crazy Toones, Raw Footage would have at least been decent rather than fucking horrible.

16. TAKE ME AWAY (FEAT. BUTCH CASSIDY)

Ice Cube attempts to be clever, mentioning that he had a good day. How in the hell can you have a good day when this album presents images of corrupt police, violence and poor living conditions amongst his people? Oh that's right, Ice Cube doesn't live in the ghetto anymore! On here, he contradicts everything that he allegedly believes over a beat that sounds like ass, changing his stance faster then a rapper jumping onto the latest trends. Not like any of that matters, since you'd barely remember anything long after the song fades out.

(There are also a number of bonus tracks that are available depending on where you but Raw Footage: for example, the remix to “Gangsta Rap Made Me Do It”, featuring both Nas and Scarface, is only available on iTunes. Or if you search other rap blogs, of course.)

FINAL THOUGHTS: Let's be honest: Raw Footage is polished horseshit that tries to disguise itself as an underground album. Ice Cube's first political effort since The Predator ends up sounding deceptive for those of you who actually stood in line to buy the album. When he's not talking about politics, he's talking about himself, and most of Raw Footage sounds like he was trying too hard to appeal to the West Coast. This album may have gotten good reviews, but don't believe the hype: there is nothing on this album that is worth hearing, except maybe the tracks listed below. Only hardcore collectors need apply.

BUY OR BURN? Avoid this shit at all costs.

BEST TRACKS: “Tomorrow”; “Stand Tall”

-Taylor

(Questions? Comments? Concerns? Leave your thoughts below.)

Ice Cube - Lethal Injection (December 7, 1993)

(Editor's note: Some of you two may remember this review as having erroneously been posted for a short time in December. Well, what you actually saw was an incomplete edit that I was still working on. However, the only part of the write-up I was still tweaking was the introduction: the actual track-by-track review is exactly the same as it was on the “original” version. So for the two of you who think this is a rerun, it isn't, but you're not completely crazy. Enjoy!)

Recently, while waiting for the rest of his party at the bar of a midscale restaurant in Los Angeles, rapper Ice Cube was asked by one of the other patrons what it was like to have fallen the fuck off in the music industry, why he believed that his new family-friendly persona had any right to exist, and how it felt to know that, no matter what he did, he would never make as much of a cultural impact as he did back in the early 1990s. A drink was thrown, security was quickly called to action, and I was promptly thrown out of that establishment.

O'Shea Jackson's fourth solo album, Lethal Injection, is generally seen as the point when the man's career in hip hop began to implode. Ice Cube's Jheri curl was long gone at this point: many of his fans point to the loss of that particular hairstyle as the reason why his lyrics faded in potency. However, that isn't truly the case: after his acclaimed work with West Coast gangsta rap forefathers N.W.A. and the runaway success of his controversial solo debut, AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted, he changed his look and tried his best to retain the political rhymes that made him a critical darling, if a bit of a divisive one.

Lethal Injection is the first Ice Cube album to focus almost exclusively on gangsta rap, both the violent facets and the rewards, as evidenced by the G-Funk influences on the project, almost certainly a result of the success stemming from former rhyme partner Dr. Dre's The Chronic a year prior. He doesn't stray far from serious subjects, though: Lethal Injection covers racism and religion with equal fervor. But he also doesn't exclusively focus on them, either: it's safe to say that a song such as "Bop Gun (One Nation)" probably turned the majority of his older fans away, since positive messages and odes to parties aren't what hip hop heads look for when they look in O'Shea's general direction.

Unsurprisingly, Lethal Injection took a pounding from music critics, and Cube took a break from rhyming afterward, deciding to focus instead on his blossoming film career. (Judging from the sheer amount of success he has had in that particular media, it's clear that he made the right choice.) This project still had a fair number of hit records (two of which, the aforementioned "Bop Gun (One Nation)" and "You Know How We Do It", garnered regular airplay on MTV, which was still something of an anomaly back in 1993), but most hip hop heads casually dismiss this effort as easily as they would a marathon of Two and a Half Men or yet another Tea Party rally.

1. THE SHOT (INTRO)

A useless rap album intro that doubles as a passive racist statement? Oh fuck, this album is going to suck.

2. REALLY DOE

After a brief snippet from the film American Me, we get to the actual song. The beat (from Lay Law and Derrick McDowell) is really fucking good, and it mixes in a Slick Rick vocal sample with ease, but O'Shea takes up too much of the listener's time with a useless intro that leads nowhere. He may as well have been reading his grocery list. When he finally decides to grace our ears with some actual verses, you'll quickly notice that his flow has been tamed by the trappings of success, both in the music industry and in Hollywood. He comes off as alright on “Really Doe”, but this just cannot compare to his first two full-length albums or even his N.W.A. contributions. Apparently this track was also a single, but I don't remember it ever getting any burn on the radio around my way.

3. GHETTO BIRD

O'Shea's ode to police helicopters has a truly funky QDIII instrumental as its support, but Cube's socio-political stance has waned throughout the years, and his delivery suffers: there are so many blank spots during the bars themselves that you one could drive Cube's Impala effortlessly between the words and parallel park the motherfucker, too. This being a rap song, of course this story ends with O'Shea somehow scoring some ass while being chased by modern aviation technology. While the beat is banging, the song itself is pitiful.

4. YOU KNOW HOW WE DO IT

Back in 1993, I really liked this smooth declaration of Ice Cube's victory over his opponents, but in listening to it again today, there appears to be a soul missing. QDIII's beat doesn't need to exert any sort of dominance, as O'Shea attempts to do so himself, but while his lyrics sound better on here than they did on “Really Doe” and “Ghetto Bird”, this is still indicative of Cube's new direction in his career, one in which he feels that he doesn't need to prove anything to anyone and spouts lazy gangsta threats just to fill the time between family-friendly film roles. Sigh.

5. CAVE BITCH

Ice Cube resorts to his old trick of trying to piss off an entire race by declaring white women (who universally have “stringy hair and no derrière”, apparently) inferior to...well, just about any woman of color. The overt hatred prevalent on this track may have been a representation of how O'Shea felt back in 1993, but when compared to his anger against other groups, he doesn't have much of a case: he seems to hate white women for solely superficial reasons. Given that there are a bunch of white women today who now do actually have more curvaceous bodies, do you think Cube has reversed his stance yet? This song was ridiculous.

6. BOP GUN (ONE NATION) (FEAT. GEORGE CLINTON)

This song is actually over eleven minutes long, unlike the edited version Cube shot a video for: I don't think anybody was ready to see Cube dance at a house party for that long. The length of the track is supposed to pay homage to guest star George Clinton and his Parliament-Funkadelic roots. The music on here is easily the most mainstream that O'Shea has rhymed over thus far, and it's also the most obvious nod to the G-Funk that was taking over the West Coast's rap scene at the time (although calling it P-Funk would probably be more accurate). The song itself is alright, I suppose: there's nothing threatening about it, but one grows weary of it around the seventh minute, since Cube is the only guy spitting sporadic verses. This track might have worked better with the assistance of several guests. Back when the video used to play all the time on BET and MTV, I laughed every time at Cube referencing the year the single was released (1994) versus the year Lethal Injection dropped (1993); it's not the funniest joke in the world or anything, but the level of self-awareness is amusing. I also wanted to show appreciation to the chick in the red and white-striped bikini who dances in the video. This review could have used more of her.

7. WHAT CAN I DO?

O'Shea's story, detailing his own drowning in a sea of crime without any way to escape, sounds like it was performed by a completely different rapper. It's certainly not a bad story, though: it isn't as good as his past work, but you share Cube's frustration with the limitations of his life, the pressures of his surroundings, and the restrictions of the system. The 88 X Unit beat isn't very helpful, though: it makes “What Can I Do?” sound like a melodrama airing on Lifetime than the character study it actually is. Most Cube fans will be more familiar with its remix, which I will discuss when I get to Bootlegs & B-Sides. The skit at the end of this track is also an understated commentary on using religion as a crutch, which was nicely played.

8. LIL ASS GEE

I've owned Lethal Injection for about seventeen years now (fuck, I feel old), and I'm still more familiar with the remix to this track, too. (Probably because Cube shot a video for the remixed version, but I'm not judging.) Cube inhabits another persona to describe the life and motivations of a child entering the fun and prosperous world of gangbanging. The beat is funky, but not a good match for the subject matter: it sounds like it wants to be played in the background of a house party that the titular character would attend after committing his twentieth drive-by and winning a free toaster for his troubles. O'Shea suffers from a strain of Ras Kass syndrome on here. Oh well.

9. MAKE IT RUFF, MAKE IT SMOOTH (FEAT. K-DEE)

Ice Cube, who refers to himself as “Chocolate Thunder” on this song (which tells you everything you need to know about this song straight away), if only fooling himself if he really thinks that Lethal Injection is “devoid of pop”. This K-Dee-featured track, which is supposed to be about how much they love to make sweet love fuck anonymous bitches, devolves into a festival of boasting (most of which comes from the guest, who O'Shea even makes fun of during the first verse) and complaining about the music industry. Because there's nothing that will get a woman's panties dropping faster than bitching about how the label wants you to record a radio-friendly single. Talk about losing your way in the forest.

10. DOWN FOR WHATEVER

This sounds nothing like an Ice Cube song, but for once, that trait is its main strength. O'Shea slows his roll down to a crawl, riding the beat like a drunk driver white-knuckling the steering wheel, trying his best to not draw attention to himself as he swerves between lanes and runs stop signs. The instrumental, from Madness 4 Real (a great producer name, by the way), fucking bangs, but Cube's performance is damn near laughable: in his quest to move as many units as possible, he's forgotten his roots, running with a drawl that somehow moves even more slowly than the lackadaisical beat. Here's the thing, though: I kind of like this song. Cube rides that fine line between serious and self-parody, but the important thing is that he never crosses it, so it's easy to enjoy his performance, especially if you think of him as an actor first and not a rapper at this point. I still think that the beat should have gone to someone more deserving, but it is what it is. This track was also hilariously used on the soundtrack to the Mike Judge classic Office Space.

11. ENEMY

For one track only, Ice Cube unearths his political views and attacks his enemies over this East Coast-sounding Madness 4 Real production. (Okay, now that producer name is getting annoying.) He sounds more comfortable on here than he has on all of Lethal Injection, perhaps because he's actually saying something worth hearing, as opposed to lazily proclaiming that he's the king of the West Coast without any real justification to back it up. This is the first song on Lethal Injection where both the beat and the lyrics mesh well: I wonder if O'Shea's return to a East-ish beat had anything to do with that.

12. WHEN I GET TO HEAVEN

After revisiting the skit from earlier (and changing the point of the original entirely), O'Shea goes after organized religion in a much calmer manner than one would expect, considering that countries have declared wars over this bullshit. The Brian G beat is weak and almost causes the track to fall apart on more than one occasion, but Cube opines in an effective manner, hoping for a light at the end of the tunnel, and essentially trading roles with the guy from the skits. This was a relatively thoughtful way to end the evening.

There's also a reissued version of Lethal Injection that includes some additional remixes.  I don't have that version, so I can't really say much about it.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Although a couple of the songs serve as flashbacks to a simpler time in the career of O'Shea Jackson, Lethal Injection mostly blows donkey dick. Ice Cube aims for the cheap seats, embracing G-Funk and discarding any of his personal opinions, making one of the most generic gangsta rap albums in existence. A few of the instrumentals are really fucking good, but Cube tries to alter his public persona to that of a seasoned veteran (which he kind of was, admittedly) with nothing more to prove, but he doesn't earn those accolades on here: not for nothing is Lethal Injection widely known as the first album in Cube's catalog on which our host started to drift away. Can't say I blame him, though: I get bored of hip hop too, at times. But it is a shame that the guy who recorded AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted also managed to record this shit, instead of simply gracefully bowing out and focusing on his successful movie career. And I haven't even really gotten to his later output yet (except for Laugh Now, Cry Later, which makes Lethal Injection sound like Liquid Swords). Groan.

BUY OR BURN? A burn is sufficient. Ice Cube apologists will be far more lenient than I am, but I was sorely disappointed during this revisit, as Lethal Injection doesn't really hold up.

BEST TRACKS: “Enemy”; and “Down For Whatever”, depending on my mood, I suppose

-Max

RELATED POSTS:

Why, yes, I've written more about Ice Cube. Why do you ask?

Ice Cube - The Predator (November 17, 1992)

Seventeen years ago today (who here feels old? Join me in raising your hands. You realize I can't see you through your screen, right?), Ice Cube released his third full-length solo album, The Predator, on Priority Records. That would make this project older than some of my two readers. Then again, if you happen to fall into that category, odds are that you aren't fully aware of O'Shea Jackson's "angry" period, as all you may know him from are his family-friendly films. You can't really tell today, but back in the 1990s, Ice Cube was pretty pissed off.

Released shortly after the riots in Los Angeles, which were triggered by the acquittal of the four police officers who beat Rodney King, The Predator, ostensibly, continues walking the fine line between outlining racial tension in America and succumbing to an outright racist attitude, although, to be fair, The Predator is nowhere near the level of Cube's previous effort, Death Certificate, when it comes to courting controversy. O'Shea kept the beats mostly in-house, handling the bulk of the work on his own, with a handful of assists from the likes of DJ Muggs and DJ Pooh. He also chose to limit the guests to one track (he even completely ignored his boys in Da Lench Mob), and the overall result is an album that isn't hampered by the constant switching of styles that most hip hop albums with multiple guest shots tend to contain these days.

The Predator was Cube's most successful solo release, selling over two million copies and garnering almost consistently positive reviews in the mass media (except for a negative write-up in Billboard, which resulted in multiple potshots thrown the trade rag's way on this album). Many hip hop blogs call this the pinnacle of Cube's career, with songs that absolutely must be heard by any "true" hip hop fan, or else you're just a fraud. Because, fuck it, two million fans can't be wrong, right?

Right?

1. THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL (INTRO)
Spoiler alert: this intro has nothing to do with school. Also, it may lead you to believe that watching American Me instead of listening to this album is a good thing. Follow whichever instinct you have.

2. WHEN WILL THEY SHOOT?
Cube's own instrumental is busy but catchy. However, behind the mic, O'Shea's lyrics, while still antagonistic to a fault, have noticeably diminished a bit. This isn't a bad song by any means, but after his first two albums, I was expecting a bit more from Cube. There is so much going on with this beat that I was reminded of MC Ren's musical backing from his Kizz My Black Azz EP.

3. I'M SCARED (INSERT)
I had to double check the credits to make sure that this interlude, which probably heightened racial tension more than it simply discussed it, wasn't produced by Prince Paul, as it sounds almost exactly like much of Paul's earlier work, with the dialogue spliced together over a tightly-wound beat. Huh.

4. WICKED
This shit still sounds really good today. This blunted nightmare of a beat (provided by Cube himself and someone known as Torcha Chamba, who also produced a track off of MC Ren's aforementioned EP) is among the best O'Shea has ever rhymed to, and the guy has worked with some of the greatest behind the boards. Lyrically, this shit is a wash, mainly because our host isn't saying a goddamn thing on here, but the total package at least sounds awesome. I understand that rock group Korn has recorded a cover of this track: as I stopped caring about Jonathan Davis and friends long ago, I haven't had the misfortune of ever listening to it, so this original song remains untainted in my mind. (If you've actually listened to the remake, let me know in the comments section if it's worth everybody's time.)

5. NOW I GOTTA WET'CHA
Not surprisingly, DJ Muggs supplies a beat that sounds like something which would make for a better Cypress Hill song. Actually, I take that statement back: the beat actually sucks balls, so B-Real (and to a much lesser extent, Sen Dog) probably couldn't salvage this either. (B-Real's declaration that "Muggs made [Cube's] best songs on [his] third album", taken from Cypress Hill's never officially released "Ice Cube Killa" (over the beat from Westside Connection's "King Of The Hill"), is officially proven to be false with this track.) Cube gives it a good old college try, but everything about this abomination screams "cutting room floor".

6. THE PREDATOR
I wasn't impressed with this title track, which isn't based upon the film of the same name, but may as well be. Cube's flow, which resembles how he spits today more so than what he was capable of back in 1992, isn't bad (the actual rhymes aren't so hot, though, especially because hearing a rapper dis Johnny Carson is like hearing Spongebob Squarepants trash talk The Wanda Sykes Show: the two worlds don't fit together), even though working a potshot at Billboard into the lead-in to the "chorus" grows tired after the first successful attempt. What kills this song for me is the DJ Pooh beat, which sounds as if it couldn't decide whether it wanted to be high-energy or sinister, and instead chose to suck. Sigh.

7. IT WAS A GOOD DAY
Cube's storytelling skills hit its zenith with this Isley Brothers-sampling hit, which details what appears to be a perfect day in the life of our host. None of his friends are injured, the police leave him alone, he wins some money in games of chance, he sleeps with an unrequited love from his senior year in high school, and, as a reward for the day's excellence, the Goodyear blimp decides to validate his existence. A classic Ice Cube track. I never cared for how director F. Gary Gray (who later helmed Cube's Friday script, among other films) ended the video by having Cube surrounded by the cops: it brought too much reality into what was supposed to be a fantasy tale. But this is still a classic composition.

8. WE HAD TO TEAR THIS MOTHAFUCKA UP
The Predator sure loves it some dialogue samples, doesn't it? The Muggs beat reminded me of Cypress Hill's "Cock The Hammer", which is a good thing, since I happen to like that song. However, that means that this still comes off as O'Shea's attempt to write his own Cypress track, all while trying to retain his own identity. And I have to say, this is a much better effort than "Now I Gotta Wet'Cha".

9. FUCK 'EM (INSERT)
I have to say, I quite liked the music layered underneath this interlude. But that's where it stops.

10. DIRTY MACK
The first few bars make Cube sound as perverted as Quagmire from Family Guy. And nobody wants to hear that guy rhyme. Cube later moves on and disses Billboard again, but the damage has already been done.

11. DON'T TRUST 'EM
I always find it funny when a rapper's reference to the year is backmasked, because the album was pushed back so many times that, by the time it finally hits store shelves, the track itself is no longer relevant. (One of the few exceptions to this rule is Killah Priest's "Tai Chi". Side note: even though I haven't gotten to this yet, Cube's video for "Bop Gun (One Nation)" (from his next album, Lethal Injection) also hilariously (to me, anyway) points out that the year the song was released and the year the video was shot were two completely different things.) However, I've already used up too many words to describe what is essentially a weak-ass track, so it's time to move on.

12. GANGSTA'S FAIRYTALE 2
Producers Pockets and Ice Cube himself slow the popular-in-hip hop "Impeach The President" sample down to a crawl, while O'Shea goes back to the well for a sequel to a track from AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted. This particular fairytale leaves a lot to be desired, especially when he spits a hook that only instructs the listeners to "Jump!", which, even when taken in context, makes no sense; what, exactly, about this song makes you believe that the listener will participate in any kind of physical activity, Cube?

13. CHECK YO'SELF (FEAT DAS EFX)
Thankfully, Cube decided a remix to this Muggs-produced track for the video and radio versions, lest this song always be remembered as the Ice Cube song that sounds like Salt-N-Pepa's "Shoop". The video features Cube in jail, as it was meant to be a follow-up to the "It Was A Good Day" clip. Das EFX only supply the hook, but they still sound awkward on here: the version that jacks "The Message" wholesale is most definitely a better fit. But this is interesting as a curiosity piece.

14. WHO GOT THE CAMERA?
Meh.

15. INTEGRATION (INSERT)
...

16. SAY HI TO THE BAD GUY
The intro to the track fakes you out: instead of getting a final track that follows the same thread as Dr. Dre's "The Roach (The Chronic Outro)", we get a high-energy ending, one in which Cube apes Das EFX briefly while critics document that his lyrical skill begins to take a tumble. The overall execution of this song is a mess, though, leaving this as a disappointingly ambiguous way to end The Predator.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Listening to The Predator from start to finish is the audio equivalent of watching Ice Cube's career fall down a well. It's kind of like viewing The Glass Shield, and then following it it with the double feature of John Carpenter's Ghosts Of Mars and Are We There Yet? (Carpenter used to be a good director, by the way. What the fuck happened?) After two albums (and an EP, Kill At Will) that can best be described as "incendiary", O'Shea Jackson was bound to run out of steam, and he does so spectacularly on The Predator. With sixteen tracks (which include only twelve songs) heavily dependent on overused dialogue samples, interludes, recycled ideas, and instrumentals that are mostly not up to par, Ice Cube delivers a throwaway product that has little of the spark that made his first two albums (and his work with N.W.A.) classic material. O;Shea is far more successful when he abandons the pretense and just simply talks shit ("Wicked") or when he intricately details a day in his life in such a simple manner that it becomes damn near transcendent ("It Was A Good Day"), but when he tries to recapture past glories, he's like the college sophomore drinking alone at the high school after-prom party: you want to ask him what the fuck he's doing there.

BUY OR BURN? You two can burn this one. While his first two projects are highly recommended by HHID, this one is mostly unnecessary. Save for the tracks listed below, of course. And as always, the comments section is there for a reason, folks.

BEST TRACKS: "It Was A Good Day"; "Wicked"; "We Had To Tear This Mothafucka Up"

-Max

RELATED POSTS:
Other Ice Cube albums are being discussed here.

Westside Connection - Terrorist Threats (December 9, 2003)

In 1995, disgruntled West Coast gangsta rapper-ternt-actor O'Shea "Ice Cube" Jackson recruited two of his fellow California-based artists to help him do battle against every single rapper that wasn't based in their home state, in an effort to prove to nobody in particular that hip hop was best served under the hot Cali sun. Igniting a feud that seemingly came out of nowhere (but in reality was both created by and instigated by the hip hop media), these three amigos launched their first volley, "Westside Slaughterhouse", on Mack 10's debut solo album Foe Life, and used Chicago rapper Common as a punching bag. However, Lonnie Lynn is, apparently, nobody's bitch, and he quickly ripped Cube a new asshole on "The Bitch In Yoo", causing O'Shea to suffer an odd loss, considering that he was the same guy that dismantled N.W.A. with nothing but his words.

Undeterred, Cube, Mack 10, and WC (of The Maad Circle) formed the Westside Connection, a hip hop supergroup whose sole purpose was to bring the West Coast back into prominence, a feat that was damn near impossible at the time, as New York and the rest of the East Coast was exercising its dominance over the genre. Their debut, Bow Down, which was released in 1996, attacked rap music stereotypes, other rappers (Cypress Hill got it the worst), and anybody else that dared stand in their way, all while being almost defiantly West Coast in its sound. Bow Down ended up being Ice Cube's last actual good album, and it helped elevate both Mack 10 and WC into the realm of successful artists. Bow Down ended up moving over one million copies, earned four-and-a-half (out of five) mics in The Source (a questionable rating, considering that The Source was one of Westside Connection's targets), and generally rocked. Go ahead, listen to the album again. Trust me, you'll be pleasantly surprised.

While Bow Down was a call to arms for the West Coast to step their game up, both lyrically and musically, 2003's Terrorist Threats, the eventual follow-up, was an indifferent publicity stunt, a one-act play performed by three older artists who were appalled at what these youngsters were up to. At this point, the careers of all three men had hit a roadblock, so much so that Cube was seen more as an actor than as a rapper, and they figured that, since Bow Down was so fucking successful, why the hell shouldn't they try to capture lightning in a bottle twice? Hey, anything to try to make some extra cash, right?

Terrorist Threats featured a typically antagonistic title, but Ice Cube, Mack 10, and WC were all oblivious to the reason that the crew banded together to begin with, choosing instead to record an album full of rap music that was wholly indistinguishable from their peers on the radio. Sparks of their past concerns with hip hop cropped up on two tracks (which will be mentioned below), but for the most part, Cube's mind took the day off, Mack 10 opted to rhyme about nonsensical shit, WC tried his best to save face, and the numerous guest stars all showed up to the studio to collect their paychecks, leaving the original concept of the WSCG, or the West Side Connect Gang, to die a slow death on the shelves of fucking Sam Goody.

Terrorist Threats spawned no real hit songs (although its first single, "Gangsta Nation", got a lot of airplay on MTV), and somehow still sold over half a million copies, although if you look around, you'll find that absolutely nobody has one of them. This album effectively ended Mack 10's relationship with the crew: after a falling out with his mentor O'Shea, he was kicked out of the group, and although Interweb rumors persist that he was replaced with The Game, another West Coast jackass who loves to start beef for no reason, no third album has ever materialized.

Sigh.

1. A THREAT TO THE WORLD (INTRO) (FEAT KEITH DAVID)
Keith David is one of those character actors who works his fucking ass off. He's worked with Ice Cube before (on Barbershop), hence his appearance here. His narration makes this rap album intro much more dramatic than absolutely necessary, but I'll always like the guy, if only because he's in John Carpenter's They Live. That scene in the alley between him and "Rowdy" Roddy Piper, where the latter is trying to get the former to put on glasses? Motherfucking classic.

2. CALL 9-1-1
Young Tre's beat already confirms the worst: the organic West Coast sounds of Bow Down have been replaced in favor of what the trio thought was popular in 2003. As such, this reintroduction to the WSCG is a major disappointment.

3. POTENTIAL VICTIMS (FEAT KEITH DAVID)
Did Cube just dedicate this song "to all my white n----s"? The fuck? WC blows his two rhyme partners out of the fucking park (at least that guy still has the hunger behind the mic), but the most memorable aspect of this crap was Keith David's hilariously deadpan threats running throughout the song.

4. GANGSTA NATION (FEAT NATE DOGG)
The first and, as far as I know, the only single off of Terrorist Threats. I've always wondered why nobody has ever pointed out that Fredwreck's beat is essentially a sped-up version of Kanye West's instrumental for Beanie Sigel's "The Truth". Then it occurred to me that I'm probably the only guy who would ever try to compare those two songs together. Anyway, Nate Dogg's hook is a winner, as usual, while Cube and Dub-C both manage to sound good even though this song was a fairly obvious radio effort. Mack 10, on the other hand, showcases a flow that proves that he is the weakest link in the WSCG chain. And yet, the song wouldn't really work without him. Strange, eh?

5. GET IGNIT
This song is frustrating. The Westside Connection were originally conceived as an attempt to draw attention away from the East with the aid of tight beats and thoughtful (and thoughtless) lyrics. However, shit like this only helps inform listeners why the mainstream audience stopped giving a fuck about the West Coast in the first place. Pass.

6. PIMP THE SYSTEM (FEAT BUTCH CASSIDY)
I thought this metaphor was a bit too easy to draw upon, but Cube, Mack 10, and WC's correlation between prostitution and the music industry is still pretty decent. Mack 10's assertion that "pussy don't pay you like EMI" is just funny to me. Butch Cassidy's hook offsets the harder edge that the crew was chasing after on the instrumental, but this still wasn't that bad.

7. DON'T GET OUTTA POCKET (FEAT K-MAC)
O'Shea's gibberish at the beginning of the track sets the bar pretty low already, but the back-and-forth between the four rappers somehow makes this track worse than you were expecting. How in the hell does that happen?

8. IZM
The beat (credited to Bruce Waynne, who is clearly not Batman, and some guy named Dirty Swift) is pretty good, but it sounds like it would be a better fit for Tha Alkaholiks. Ice Cube obliterates any memory of Death Certificate's lyrical potency with an inane verse that he probably penned in between setups while filming Barbershop. What a waste.

9. SO MANY RAPPERS IN LOVE
Attacking sellout rappers who write love songs solely to get radio play and to garner a female audience is inspired: Bow Down was chock full of lyrical bile being spewed toward the conventions of hip hop at the time (the East Coast, magazine critics, Cypress Hill, Q-Tip). However, this concept deserved a much better execution, or at least a completely different chorus, which sounds almost as bad as those on a lot of Kool Keith's self-produced work.

10. LIGHTS OUT (FEAT KNOC-TURN'AL)
This is the best that O'Shea Jackson has sounded since "Gangsta Nation", and he utilizes this slight resurgence to attack two guys that share his surname, Samuel L. and Jesse Jackson. (No relation.) Damizza's beat is the very essence of the West, and even though Knoc-Turn'al's hook is fairly fucking awful, the song itself is pretty good otherwise.

11. BANGIN' AT THE PARTY (FEAT K-MAC, SKOOP, & YOUNG SOPRANO)
This one song is a prime example as to why Ice Cube and the rest of the Westside Connection are no longer relevant to hip hop: this was recorded with every intention of rocking the clubs. Wow. This was eight different varieties of useless. And yes, they just rhymed "tardy" with "party", shades of Real Housewives of Atlanta. I never thought I'd reference that on this blog, but I feel that the mention above of They Live will help offset it.

12. YOU GOTTA HAVE HEART
I don't purchase Westside Connection albums to hear positive messages directed toward the youth. If I wanted that shit, I would have bought The Carter III, thanks.

13. TERRORIST THREATS
Yet another beat that would have been better suited for Tha Liks. I'm convinced that Mack 10 swiped Tash's beat CD and brought it to the WSCG studio sessions as a lark. Well, at least this abomination was motherfucking short.

14. SUPERSTAR (DOUBLE MURDER = DOUBLE PLATINUM)
Cube's first verse is some of the best satire I've heard in hip hop in a long while. Mack 10 and Dub-C stick with the theme, with varying degrees of subtlety, but O'Shea's words carry the track. More commentary such as this (and less blatant commercial attempts) would have been appreciated on Terrorist Threats. Oh well.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Terrorist Threats is all over the place, and most of the project sounds so poor that you'll be forced to double-check the Westside Connection's debut album to prove that these are the same three guys that channelled their anger so well on Bow Down. Ice Cube, Mack 10, and WC opt to travel with the grain this time, instead of going against it, resulting in an album interchangeable with most other no-name Left Coast artists, only managing to come up for air sporadically with something that sounds remotely decent. The beats sometimes knock, but they're wasted so often on these three that you'll be tempted to complain to your city councilman. Terrorist Threats only manages to suicide-bomb about an hour of your valuable time, which is one hour more than what you should devote to this bullshit.

BUY OR BURN? There is no reason for anybody to purchase this, which sucks, as Bow Down was so fucking good. This is the anti-Bow Down: instead of bucking trends, the WSCG follow them like that little scrawny pup running after the bulldog in those old Warner Brothers cartoons. For fans of Ice Cube (those of you who still exist at this point), spinning the tracks listed below will be sufficient, and if you're not an Ice Cube fan, why the hell are you still reading this write-up? We'll see you next time.

BEST TRACKS: "Gangsta Nation"; "Lights Out"; "Superstar (Double Murder = Double Platinum)"

-Max

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Westside Connection - Bow Down