My Gut Reaction: The Game - 1992 (October 14, 2016)

Jayceon “The Game” Taylor’s third of three projects in 2016 was the only one that could truly be classified as a proper album. Streets of Compton was a promotional tie-in for a documentary miniseries that I’m not convinced anybody ever actually watched, while Block Wars was sold as the soundtrack for a mobile game that was ultimately never released due to concerns regarding its violent gang-related content, and both of those projects were compilations of throwaway tracks that the guy likely would have placed onto various mixtapes had those still been his focus at the time.

My Gut Reaction: The Game - Block Wars (July 29, 2016)

You two may recall a previous post mentioning how Compton ambassador Jayceon “The Game” Taylor spent his busy 2016, releasing two quickie compilations, both of which were soundtracks to unrelated efforts, both of which doubled as the promotional lead-up for his eighth seventh proper full-length album, 1992. The first of those efforts, Streets of Compton, was a soundtrack to a documentary reality miniseries describing the gang lifestyle in, well, Compton, a miniseries that I’m not convinced anybody ever actually watched, but at least I can locate proof that it existed: the second of the two quickies and the subject of today's Gut Reaction post, Block Wars, is a companion piece to a mobile video game of the same name that remains unreleased, at least according to the Interweb, which, as we all know, is never wrong. Oh well, at least we'll always have this cover art.

My Gut Reaction: The Game - Streets of Compton (June 17, 2016)

The year in between Jayceon “The Game” Taylor’s two-part sixth album The Documentary 2 / The Documentary 2.5 (I refuse to look at these as two separate projects even though their combined length would certainly qualify it as such) and his seventh, 1992, was a busy one for the man. Critique The Game all you want – his incessant need to drop the names of other famous rappers is long overdue for a tweak; he’s unable to ever keep his fucking mouth shut, which is the main reason why he’s been a part of so many hip hop beefs; his general proximity to more gang-related murders than one would think possible; his alleged predilection for, well, let’s just say underage girls – but one thing you have you admit about the man is that, between his proper albums, mixtape work, cameos, compilations, and whatnot, the guy is incredibly prolific behind the mic. Which goes back to how he’s unable to ever keep his fucking mouth shut, but whatever, that fucking mouth of his is the reason why we’ll be discussing Streets of Compton today.

My Gut Reaction: The Game - Blood Moon: Year of the Wolf (October 14, 2014)

When I started this dumbass blog project, one of my many ideas was to review the catalogs of whatever artists I deemed worthy enough of following (a whole other conversation that I won’t be getting in to) in chronological order. This might have made more sense if I focused on one rapper or group at a time (which is why the very first posts featured a lot of Jay-Z), but as more and more characters were introduced into the narrative, the plot started to suffer, and even worse for me, I started to get really fucking bored. So I began doing some ridiculous stuff to maintain my own level of interest, such as talking about the discography of certain artists in reverse chronological order (*cough* Fat Joe, LL Cool J *cough*), pulling random projects for one-off write-ups (Lil’ Wayne, and I’m sure there are other examples), walking away from album reviews to try out different formats, and even abandoning the site completely for a couple of years. (I’m joking: that’s not the reason I walked away.) Obviously, the scattershot nature of my posts, my schedule, and also my attention span, caused some of the artists I had previously aimed the spotlight at to suffer a bit: Jay-Z’s 4:44 wasn’t reviewed until this past February, and as you’ve no doubt noticed, I still haven’t written about Everything Is Love. And don’t even get me started on how far behind I am with Aubrey Graham’s shit. But at least neither is in the same boat as Jayceon “The Game” Taylor, the Compton rapper whose work I’m so apathetic about that I can’t even be bothered to listen to his shit when it drops.

My Gut Reaction: The Game - The Documentary 2.5 (October 16, 2015)

I may never complete the tenuous project that I've tied this blog into (at least not without laying down some parameters that will undoubtedly piss both of you off), but when it comes to finishing something that I've started, I can at least do that with The Game's The Documentary 2. You see, Jayceon Taylor recorded so many tracks for what was ostensibly a project celebrating the ten-year anniversary of his major label debut that he opted to compile a double album, and then ridiculously chose to release each disc as its own separate entity. That's how we ended up with the subject of today's post, The Documentary 2.5, released exactly one week after its partner.

Click through to read more about what Game now refers to as his seventh solo album, and as always, purchasing anything by clicking the prevalent Amazon links helps support the site and keeps it going a little bit longer. Christmas is coming up very soon, and you know you'll be buying shit off of Amazon, so why not click through HHID first? I'm just saying.

My Gut Reaction: The Game - The Documentary 2 (October 9, 2015)

Before the hiatus that ended up getting away from me (and threatens to continue doing so, if I'm being real), I received the most requests to write about The Game, who had just released The Documentary 2 in an effort to celebrate the ten-year anniversary of his major label debut, The Documentary. And I mean by far: the sheer volume of requests for an artist I figured most of you two didn't really follow anymore was deafening, and I'm still not convinced that as many people will actually comment about the project now that a review exists. But I present this lost write-up as evidence that I was, in fact, working on a review for The Documentary 2, so I wasn't lying when I told you that two years ago, and what follows represents how far I got into it.

I believe I was trying to write about both that album and its immediate follow-up, or sequel, or second half, depending on what school of thought you attend, The Documentary 2.5, all within the same post, as I sometimes do, but I only managed to get about five songs into that one before the world started burning, so for obvious reasons, there's going to be a delay on The Documentary 2.5. But there is at least this, so enjoy!

Oh, and as always, I need to see comments, likes, mentions, retweets, whatever in order to gauge further interest in the site, and purchasing The Documentary 2, or literally anything else, by clicking through the Amazon links will help keep the blog sustainable. I hate that I have to write that now, as it should be obvious, but you two want this to continue, right?

What follows is my virtually untouched writing from 2015, save for some editorial changes.

Remixed For Your Pleasure: The Game - "It's Okay (One Blood)"

During the lead-up to Jayceon "The Game" Taylor's sophomore album, 2006's The Doctor's Advocate, hip hop heads (and Jayceon himself, most likely) were surprised to hear that the man was dropped from both 50 Cent's G-Unit (no big loss) and from Dr. Dre's Aftermath Records, having ultimately been shifted to Geffen Records (while still underneath the Interscope umbrella) to ride out the remainder of his contract.  The label change had to have been distressing to Game, since a lot of his rap identity up until that point relied on his relationship with Andre Young: shit, the very title of the album, The Doctor's Advocate, was inspired by the former N.W.A. member.  So when the project finally dropped, most heads weren't shocked to hear numerous references to Dr. Dre, but that doesn't make the situation any less sad, nor does the fact that the majority of the album sounds like reference tracks for Dre vocals that never materialized.

"It's Okay (One Blood)" was the first single from The Doctor's Advocate, and it provided a soapbox for Game to stand on as he proclaimed to the masses that he and Dr. Dre were still the best of friends, and how he's the West Coast's savior, and whatever other shit sounded good to him at the time.  Reggae legend Junior Reid was called upon (read: heavily sampled) to provide a hook of sorts, mostly made up of him repeating the parenthetical half of the song title, which, by the way, was called "One Blood" as a shout-out to the set Game still claims to this day.  The instrumental, provided by Reefa after the original Dre prescription was allegedly aborted, is an gradually-annoying, drum-heavy concoction that drives Jayceon's boasts 'n bullshit 'n name drops into the horizon: the song itself is pleasant enough, but the single listen is more than most people absolutely need to commit to it.  I suppose it was a minor hit: I mean, Game still has a career, obviously.  But after his debut featured singles produced by the likes of Dre, Timbaland, and Kanye West, "It's Okay (One Blood)", Game's attempt to remove himself from his situation by securing production from outside of Dre's camp while doing nothing but talking about Dr. Dre during the verses themselves, could only draw general indifference from heads like myself.

Which made Game's next move intriguing, if not actually interesting.

"It's Okay (One Blood)" somehow inspired an extra-fucking-long official remix affair that attempted to unite coasts and gangs in the name of "this should have been called a freestyle, but Game wanted to affix a formal label".  The remix features twenty-four rappers: (deep breath, and...) Jim Jones, Snoop Dogg, Nas, T.I., Fat Joe, Lil' Wayne, N.O.R.E., Jadakiss, Styles P., Fabolous, Juelz Santana, Rick Ross, Twista, both Kurupt and Daz from Tha Dogg Pound, WC, E-40, Bun B, Chamillionaire, Slim Thug, Young Dro, both (No) Malice and Pusha T of the Clipse, and Ja Rule, all spitting over the same Reefa instrumental alongside Game himself (and Junior Reid, technically, I guess).  As you can imagine, that instrumental, which was grating when it was just Game over it, grows incredibly tedious over the course of the nearly twelve minutes (!) it takes for this shit to finish, although at least the voices behind the microphone switch up often enough to keep listeners from getting fucking exhausted right away.  (Game also apparently released three regional mixes to mixtapes, one for each coast represented on this mix, a couple of which toss in additional artists along with those featured on the subject of today's post: as I only learned about those fuckers today, I won't be acknowledging them in this write-up, but feel free to discuss them if you're familiar.)

Conspicuous in their respective absences are any members of G-Unit (whose ringleader, 50 Cent, actually had problems, at one time or another, with about half of the goddamn guest list) and anyone affiliated with Shady/Aftermath Records, although there wouldn't have been much room for them anyway.  Everyone involved kicks a short quickie, only a handful of which actually mention Game: for the most part, these various artists stay on their own messages, talking the kind of shit designed to have the most impact with the short amount of screen time afforded each participant.  Jim Jones (ugh) kicks things off, while Ja Rule, the scourge of hip hop who, nevertheless, scored several radio hits in the early part of the millennium, closes things out with what I think is the longest verse I've ever heard from the motherfucker.  He was almost certainly included just to piss off Curtis (and Eminem, technically, since Marshall also had his own problems with the guy).

Given the nature of this kind of remix, one where all of the verses were most certainly recorded in separate studios and e-mailed to Game for inclusion, there is no standout verse: a hungry rapper's need to outshine everyone else on the track simply doesn't exist if they don't share any space, right?  It's worth noting that nobody actually sounds terrible, but the remix itself is overkill: sitting through the entire thing is a chore, and if you're anything like me, you'll find yourself mentally writing a to-do list while the song plays, completely ignoring the performances after, say, Nas raps, which, honestly, I can't say I did for Game's original track.  

The official remix to "It's Okay (One Blood)" is too much of a, well, not a good thing, but, um, an okay thing, maybe?  It's cool to hear so many all-stars (and Young Dro) on the same track together, but the remix is merely a publicity stunt, released to promote The Doctor's Advocate (a week after the album dropped, if I recall correctly) and to show the universe just how many friends Game had managed to make in the industry in a relatively short period of time.  As a curiosity piece, sure, it's nice that it exists.  As a piece of music, though, the remix simply doesn't work: there's no cohesion or running themes, just a bunch of guys rapping over the same fucking annoying beat, and that shit gets old real fast, folks.

GO WITH THE O.G. OR THE REMIX?  The original, by far.  If you have to hear either, of course.

-Max

RELATED POST:

The Game - The Doctor's Advocate (review)

My Gut Reaction: The Game - Jesus Piece (December 11, 2012) + Extra Tracks

Today, because I feel like it and because I should have done this a while ago, I present a write-up for The Game's fifth studio album, Jesus Piece.  It's labeled as a concept album that explores the duality of man, where the spiritual side constantly battles the materialistic void, but the first mistake was to call it a "concept album": unless you're Prince Paul (or, I guess, Ghostface Killah), rappers tend not to take concept albums very seriously.  And, as expected, Jayceon veers off course more often than not, because that is his way.

My Gut Reaction: Game - The R.E.D. Album (August 23, 2011)

As an artist, Jayceon Taylor fascinates me.  The artist formerly known as The Game (he prefers just "Game" now, which means I will ignore his request for the majority of this write-up) hails from Compton, California, the birthplace of N.W.A. and a city generally known as ground zero for the West Coast gangsta rap scene, but while he represents his sub-genre with pride, he also comes off as far more lyrical behind the microphone than what most hip hop heads will ever give him credit for.  For a guy who claims to have learned how to rap by listening to the classics while laid up in a hospital recovering from life-threatening gunshot wounds (hell, for a guy who says that he never even thought of hip hop as a career path until he was shot), he seems to have mastered his version of the art rather quickly.  His albums are consistent in the category of lyricism, and his many mixtapes showcase a guy who is willing to experiment with his sound for the greater good (most rappers wouldn't dare dream of attempting to write four hundred bars for use in a single song).

As a person, though, he comes across as an immature loose cannon, quick with a retaliatory response aimed at anyone, and I mean anyone, who he thinks looked at him sideways.  His onetime mentor Curtis Jackson, who included The Game within his G-Unit crew at one point, tends to be his primary target in interviews (after Curtis dropped him from the group for befriending the enemy (Ja Rule, Fat Joe, etc.), Game attacked him for basically being a bastard: their beef has continued off and on ever since), and Jayceon has also engaged in a relatively one-sided war of words with Jay-Z since his debut album, The Documentary (I say "relatively" because Hova has yet to ever official respond, and no, that "Dear Summer" song he did on Memphis Bleek's album doesn't count).  The Game's plan of attack has always been to burn the bridge quickly and beg for forgiveness afterward: the laundry list of rappers who Game has thrown potshots at is probably longer than any bill presented to Congress.  And yet the man still has more friends in the industry than Canibus.  I'm just saying.

Anyway, the long-delayed The R.E.D. Album is Game's fourth full-length project, and his third attempt at winning back the audience that abandoned him around the same time Dr. Dre did, which happened right after The Documentary dropped.  Having been shuttled to Geffen/Interscope after his beef with Curtis caused a rift between him and his Aftermath home, The Game had to impress the label before they could guarantee a release date: the three-year delay between his third album, L.A.X. and The R.E.D Album (which he claims is not a tribute to his allegiance with the Bloods but an acronym for his "re-dedicating" himself to hip hop: *cough* bullshit *cough*) can be explained by the fact that every single goddamn song he dropped as a potential single for the past three years has been met with indifference, and the label refused to fund an album that wasn't going to sell any units.  This is actually a pretty smart way to handle the situation, in my opinion: why waste your resources on an artist who can't prove that he still has an audience?  

Obviously, The Game finally unleashed a minor hit, or else I wouldn't be holding The R.E.D. Album in my hands right now.  I also blame Dr. Dre, who finally decided to stand by his former employee during this troubled time in gangsta rap, although he didn't care enough to actually bless our host with a beat.  Weird, that.

1. DR. DRE INTRO (FEAT. DR. DRE)

The good Doctor apparently narrated The R.E.D. Album, contributing a useless rap album intro that has fuck-all to do with anything. (This isn't supposed to be a concept album or Jayceon's biography, so what the fuck was the purpose of this?) I'd like to note that, back on The Game's 2005 major label debut, Andre popped up during “Higher” to promise listeners that Detox would eventually happen. Here we are, six years later, and it still hasn't come out.

2. THE CITY (FEAT. KENDRICK LAMAR)

This moody opener (classified as such by me, thanks to the Cool & Dre instrumental) ultimately falters for a number of reasons, only a handful of which I will actually discuss right now, because I don't want to dwell too much on the negative when I still have the majority of The R.E.D. Album to listen to. First off, this song has hardly anything to do with any city, especially Compton, California: Jayceon certainly pretends that it does, but he uses the track as an excuse to justify his continued career, and his hometown only plays a peripheral role, almost as though he's looking at Compton through his rearview mirror while he's speeding the fuck away toward financial security. Secondly, The Game's vocal delivery appears to change depending on what side of the bed he woke up on that morning. Third, our host complains that critics found L.A.X. “average”, which “stressed [him] out”: that is truly a first world problem (it's not as though he lost his deal and his home in the process). Finally, blogger favorite Kendrick Lamar, who also hails from Compton, is assigned hook duty for the most part, and his contribution is both the worst chorus I've heard in a while and the most complex lyricism I've ever heard on a Game album. This is made all the more clear at the end, when the music evaporates and K. Dot's verse continues acapella: it appears that The Game and company simply trimmed Lamar's verse to suit their own selfish needs, making this collaboration sound unnatural. This probably isn't a good sign.

3. DRUG TEST (FEAT. DR. DRE, SNOOP DOGG, & SLY)

What should have been a promising guest list turns in a bizarre club-ready missive. I actually liked DJ Khalil's beat, and Jayceon himself sounds alright enough (he isn't terrible at these club songs: one of my favorite performances from him is on the aforementioned “Higher”), but Snoop is entirely wasted (possibly literally while he was recording an homage to his own “Gin & Juice”) in a short four-bar cameo, and being presented with Andre Young's current persona, that of an old man who still goes to the club, is a bit unsettling, especially when he promises to administer a drug test on a female he has his eye on, which I can only assume means that he wants to piss on her. The Sly hook is corny, but for a chorus that's all about celebrating the guys who manage to sneak drugs into the club, it could have been much worse.

4. MARTIANS VS. GOBLINS (FEAT. LIL' WAYNE & TYLER, THE CREATOR)

The 1500 or Nothin' instrumental isn't terrible: it at least fits Jayceon's vocals well. This song is a conceptual mess, though. In theory, this probably should have been a battle between the team of Lil' Wayne and Game versus Odd Future frontman Tyler, The Creator, but Weezy, who has identified himself as both a Martian and as a goblin in the past, only registers on the hook (and doesn't even bother using entire words, referring to himself as a “motherfucking marsh”), causing The Game to railroad his other invited guest. This isn't a bad thing: Tyler sounds uncomfortable, resorting to his old homophobic tricks so quickly that I couldn't wait for his verse to be over. Jayceon fares much better on his own shit, anyway, with two ridiculous verses filled with random name-drops (and a quick potshot at blogger favorite Lil' B) that will probably anger comic book nerds toward the very end (as he pairs up a certain costumed superhero with the incorrect publishing company – you'll know what I'm talking about when you hear it). I've also grown disgusted with Tyler's deep, distorted vocals that feature during the hook, as that's all I can remember hearing on the entirety of Goblin.

5. RED NATION (FEAT. LIL' WAYNE)

The first single on The R.E.D. Album that actually somewhat clicked with an audience. The Game's proclamation of dominance by the Bloods hilariously samples Zombie Nation's “Kernkraft 400”, which turns this shit into the most gangsta third period in a hockey game ever. Game's verses aren't memorable, but he sounds as confident as ever, and Lil' Tunechi provides his second hook of the evening, which is too wordy for its own good. The novelty wears off fairly quickly. I understand the official video was banned by MTV because of all of the gang imagery, but I'd like to think that Viacom suddenly developed decent taste and simply refused to air a clip for such a crappy song.

6. DR. DRE 1 (FEAT. DR. DRE)

Interlude...

7. GOOD GIRLS GO BAD (FEAT. DRAKE)

Jayceon brings a good message to the forefront (basically, he feels that you should respect women and never mistreat them), but his constant name-drops dilute the potion: the man even references Natalee Holloway, which should be proof that he has crossed a line, and yet the man continues to work. Aubrey abandons the concept entirely, which was expected (Drake isn't what we would call a “team player”), but to be fair, Game also has a short attention span, so whatever. Cool & Dre's beat sounds far more experimental than anything else they have ever produced, and I mean that as a compliment. This wasn't awful.

8. RICKY

The seemingly tacked-on final verse on “Good Girls Go Bad” leads directly into the extended sound bite from Boyz N The Hood that opens this track: the use of the clip is so egregious that I'm half surprised that The Game didn't use this as an excuse to claim that he has Ice Cube and Cuba Gooding Jr. guest-starring on The R.E.D. Album. Jayceon kicks off the DJ Khalil beat (when it eventually starts) completely off topic, talking about Dr. Dre and his tenure at Aftermath, but quickly changes course and delivers a single verse that actually lines up with the sound bite. Sort of. Some of it is a bit of a stretch, admittedly. But this wasn't awful.

9. THE GOOD, THE BAD, THE UGLY

Jayceon adopts a Biggie-esque flow (or at least his version of Shyne's impersonation of The Notorious B.I.G.) for an interesting storytelling attempt (one where he gives multiple versions of the same tale, each one more vague than the last) that proves The Game is capable of focusing on the task at hand if absolutely needed. His subdued flow fits producer Hit-Boy's “I Got A Story To Tell”-type instrumental like a glove, so even though there is actually very little to his story, it's a fascinating listen. His final bar also leads directly into the next track, so it's obvious that there was some degree of planning going in to the recording of The R.E.D. Album.

10. HEAVY ARTILLERY (FEAT. RICK ROSS & BEANIE SIGEL)

I didn't care for the Streetrunner beat and the vocal sample used as a hook at first, but it eventually grew on me in a “this was entirely serviceable” kind of way. Game manages to drop references to the two previous tracks, which would have been hilariously meta had I any inclination that he actually did that shit on purpose and didn't simply repeat himself by accident. Officer Ricky Ross handles the first verse and doesn't entirely suck (I fear his overexposure on rap radio has now convinced me that he isn't that bad of a rapper – I need to stop listening to hip hop in the car and stick with my New Wave station instead), and Game solidifies his anti-Jay-Z task force by providing the troubled Beanie Sigel with a paycheck. This wasn't terrible, but I can't imagine listening to this ever again.

11. PARAMEDICS (FEAT. YOUNG JEEZY)

So. Fucking. Boring.

12. SPEAKERS ON BLAST (FEAT. BIG BOI & E-40)

I couldn't get into this track, either. Mars's beat felt too basic for me, and it was hardly representative of anything the South could conjure up if given half a chance. The Game's first two verses were merely alright, but his hook was meh. The only decent contributions on this track come from the two guest stars, although Big Boi fares better than E-40, as he happens to actually be from the South. Methinks Keanu Reeves should bash Jayceon in the face with another phone book as punishment for creating a song that is so goddamn condescending.

13. HELLO (FEAT. LLOYD)

I've never liked R&B crooner Lloyd's voice: it never seems to fit the music he chooses to perform over, such as this generic beat on what is, sadly, not a cover of the Lionel Richie classic, nor is it one of that goofy Poe song from the late 1990s. Even though Lloyd drops ad-libs throughout, it's impossible to hide the fact that his hook has fuck-all to do with Game's love rap, which either contains a dig at Kreayshawn or confirms that his lady is Kreayshawn (“All her friends wearing Gucci so she don't rock it no more”). Hmm. Anyway, “Hello” seems to be Game's way of telling his favorite bitch that he will spoil the shit out of her, almost as though this is what he thinks a radio-friendly Jay-Z single sounds like. Fairly execrable, and the reason the 'skip' button was invented.

14. ALL THE WAY GONE (FEAT. MARIO & WALE)

So apparently the second half of The R.E.D. Album is where Game is hiding all of his forced, unnatural R&B collaborations. This Don Cannon/Mars-produced piffle is Jayceon's ode to a lady friend whose vagina he is particularly fond of, and it sounds pretty bad, given that the underlying music is dull as shit. R&B crooner Mario also sounds bland. The only saving grace on here is Rick Ross's newest employee Wale, who attempts to insert some cleverness into a track that won't accommodate it.

15. POT OF GOLD (FEAT. CHRIS BROWN)

Chris Brown is a fucking clown who doesn't deserve all of the attention he's been receiving as of late. His striking (and biting) a fellow artist (one who was his then-girlfriend, at that) shouldn't lead to renewed interest in his career (I blame the media for this turnaround), and every single motherfucking rapper who chooses to work alongside him today is helping to validate this immature cocksucker's life choices. Everyone may deserve a second chance, but fuck that guy. His chorus on here sucks, too: it's all about, “Boo hoo, I'm so famous, I wish my life was the way it used to be, but then I wouldn't be so famous”, which makes it hard for anyone except for The Game's celebrity friends to actually relate. Jayceon's radio-friendly performance isn't bad, though, and The Futuristics's sweeping production seems destined to be played in either a young-adult romance movie trailer or a commercial for a new show on the CW.

16. DR. DRE 2 (FEAT. DR. DRE)

Interlude...

17. ALL I KNOW

And this is what The Game thinks an introspective Jay-Z song (like, say, something from The Blueprint – the original, not the inferior sequels) sounds like. Boi-1da's instrumental isn't bad, but the hook certainly doesn't help ease the comparison. Jayceon goes on one of his typical rants, one which involves a metric ton of name-dropping and passing the blame around, but to be fair, he does sound in his wheelhouse whenever he does that. Unfortunately, our host has never been able to convert his references into anything resembling substance.

18. BORN IN THE TRAP

Since Dr. Dre refused to really produce anything on The R.E.D. Album, and since Pharrell Williams working by himself (which happens later in the program) doesn't count as a Neptunes production, hip hop legend DJ Premier is, by default, the most important producer on this project, and he doesn't disappoint, delivering a healthy dose of boom bap to an album already on life support as it is. Game steps up to the challenge, as well: the name drops are a bit much, and I was surprised that he elected to handle his own chorus instead of going with one of Primo's trademarked hooks made up of scratched-in vocal samples, but “Born In The Trap” is still easily the best song on this project. By far. And I acknowledge that I'm not even done listening to the full album yet.

19. MAMA KNOWS (FEAT. NELLY FURTADO)

I have no problem with Nelly Furtado. I like The Neptunes as a production team (Pharrell by himself, not so much). And if I absolutely hated The Game, I wouldn't have focused on his career for this long on the blog. But this shit? What did I do to deserve this shit? Because I'm sorry. I really am.

20. CALIFORNIA DREAM

Jayceon ends his contribution to The R.E.D. Album with a song dedicated to his newborn daughter, and the last couple of minutes are used to play what I think is supposed to be actual audio from the delivery room. Either that, or The Game has mastered the art of the Prince Paul-esque skit. An interesting way to end things, I guess. It also helps that, as a song, this isn't terrible, since Game is capable of spinning quite a compelling tale when he focuses on what he's doing, which, unfortunately, doesn't happen very often.

21. DR. DRE OUTRO (FEAT. DR. DRE)

And we're (finally) done.

Depending on where you picked up The R.E.D. Album, your copy may include one or two bonus tracks. My library apparently doesn't shop at f.y.e., so the write-up ends here.

THE LAST WORD: Game's The R.E.D. Album may have been highly anticipated, but what Jayceon Taylor delivers is a muddled, overlong mess. Production-wise, this shit is all over the map, with most of it not really sticking to your bones. Lyrically, however, it's rather consistent, and by “consistent”, I mean that Jayceon's penchant for dropping more names than Joseph McCarthy hasn't lost a step. Unfortunately for the man, nothing on The R.E.D. Album stands out as anything remotely “classic”, regardless of what all of Game's stans are claiming on the Interweb.  (Not even the Primo-produced “Born In The Trap” qualifies, as it ends up sounding more like an anomaly than anything Jayceon put actual effort into.) The Game is actually pretty good behind the mic, and when given something great to work with, he transcends his pop culture-spouting gangsta rapper roots to become something more, but The R.E.D. Album is boring as fuck. It's little wonder why this baby was pushed back so many times: nothing on here will have any kind of shelf life after this sentence. However, “Born In The Trap” has convinced me that Jayceon needs to pony up the big bucks to get all A-list backing the next time around: at least that way he may succeed in wooing the hip hop heads back. You should skip this shit and listen to the first half of The Documentary again.

-Max

RELATED POSTS:

Catch up on The Game by clicking here.

For Promotional Use Only: The Game - You Know What It Is Vol. 3 (2005)

Jayceon Taylor, best known as rap artist The Game (or simply "Game", I guess), released his Aftermath/Interscope/G-Unit backed major label debut, The Documentary, in January of 2005.  A few short months later, his relationship with Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson imploded after Game refused to take his side in useless rap beefs with Fat Joe and Jadakiss (of The Lox).  A few short months after that, Jayceon Taylor Photoshopped a mixtape album cover for the latest entry in his series, You Know What It Is Vol. 3, which featured him carrying the disembodied head of the man who continues to be his worst enemy in our chosen genre today.

The Game isn't known for subtlety.

The Documentary ended up being one of the biggest surprises of 2005, proving that, not only was The Game positioned to be a viable player in hip hop, but gangsta rap itself was still alive and well.  So it probably hurt the man's feelings when, in the midst of the most exhilarating time of his life thus far, he was unceremoniously dropped from the G-Unit, the rap crew who was forced to adopt him after Interscope head Jimmy Iovine threatened to drop Game from the label entirely if Dr. Dre couldn't find a place for him.  

Understandably, Jayceon launched an attack on his former friends that lasted the length of several mixtapes (and, depending on which day of the week it is, may still be going on in the present day), stealing their beats and verbally dismantling the likes of Lloyd Banks, Tony Yayo, Young Buck, and the lone female member Olivia, while saving the majority of his vitriol for Curtis himself.  Caught in the crossfire were his former coworkers Eminem (who, rumor has it, never gave much of a fuck about Game anyway, and only worked with him as a favor to Curtis) and Dr. Dre himself, who never officially weighed in on the battle but still quietly took all of his instrumentals from Game's sophomore effort, The Doctor's Advocate, away, so I guess it could be said that he sided with the bigger moneymaker (at the time).

You Know What It Is Vol. 3 is a significant departure from the previous two volumes in this series, as most of the project features Game and his weed carriers (including a surprising appearance from female rapper Charli Baltimore, now known as "Chuck", apparently) throwing darts at the G-Unit.  It isn't all negative, though: Game also had the good sense to throw in some tracks featuring some other actual name-brand artists in an attempt to prolong his fifteen minutes of fame, at least one of which may be a leftover from The Documentary that sounds really fucking good.  Game even included a tribute to the late Justo Faison at the very end, turning You Know What It Is Vol. 3 into a somber affair toward the end.

But for the most part, this mixtape is a giant middle finger to Curtis Jackson's empire, which now hardly even exists.  So did The Game actually win the war?  It depends on who you ask.

1. INTRO

Can't have a mixtape without an introductory track, especially when Jayceon feels it necessary to explain how he isn't with G-Unit anymore. As if anybody who was remotely interested in this mixtape wouldn't have already known that shit.

2. 300 BARS & RUNNIN'

Unlike the first two installments in this loosely-knit series (which seems to exist only to inform listeners that The Game is, in fact, capable of throwing away more bars than some rappers can come up with in an entire lifetime), “300 Bars & Runnin'” takes multiple shots at his former G-Unit brethren in addition to the usual suspects (Memphis Bleek, Jay-Z (indirectly, as always)). Also unlike the first two installments, this one actually contains some funny punchlines, specifically those aimed towards his old label-sanctioned friends. (I keep laughing out loud at what Game says when he swipes the “I'm So Fly” beat from Lloyd Banks.) The track burns through approximately nine hundred and two different instrumentals to score Jayceon's tirade, helping extend the life of this already tedious exercise. Also, he says one bar four times, so this really should have been titled “297 Bars & Runnin'”, although I have better things to do than actually count each individual line on this fucking monstrosity of a track. Songs like this are why mixtapes exist.

3. DOWN

The Game tackles the Kanye West-produced beat to Cam'Ron's “Down & Out”. (Cam'Ron would later become yet another adversary for the Curtis Jackson steroid train. Coincidence? Absolutely.) Unlike a lot of mixtape rappers, Game actually pays attention to the vocal cues the instrumental provides, so this is much more creative than it should be. But “Down” isn;t much of a dessert after the fucking Carnival World Buffet of lyrics that “300 Bars & Runnin'” was: it just made me antsy to finish listening to this shit already.

4. POISON BANANAS (FEAT. ROCKSTAR & M.O.B.)

I just realized that, as long as I've had You Know What It Is Vol. 3 in my possession, I've never actually listened to “Poison Bananas”. And other than its title, which would make for a terrific band name for a group that only strives to perform in high school cafetoriums, there is little to recommend. I will say that one of the guests (I don't care to find out which one) provides a more compelling performance than Jayceon's riff-on-Guerilla Unit-as-Gorilla Unit-but-still-racist hook, especially with his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles reference, which was actually funny. But yeah, this shit was pretty stupid. This kind of song is exactly why mixtapes have gotten worse throughout the years: the lack of a filter between the artist's mind and his mouth.

5. I'M A KING (FEAT. T.I.)

One of the most generic-sounding Southern rap songs I've heard since turning on the radio this morning. But that's just the instrumental I'm talking about: T.I. and Jayceon are awful for entirely different reasons.

6. OLIVIA (DEBUT SINGLE)

I'm still concerned about the fact that the best insult Jayceon and his friends could come up with for (former) G-Unit songstress Olivia (of “Bizounce” fame) is that she's really a man. Were you just not able to find anything wrong with her, Game? Did you offhandedly call her a dude after she refused to fuck you, and your friends took that brief aside and ran with it? I fear for the level of creativity from the Black Wall Street camp, as this smacks of old-fashioned grade school horseplay. Can't say that I didn't laugh at some of the line deliveries during this interlude, though, so I guess I'm also at fault, since I'm encouraging him and all.

7. G-UNOT SKIT

Jayceon resorts to piecing together sound bites to make it appear as though Tony Yayo was in love with his boss, Curtis. Somehow, Donald Trump (seriously?) becomes involved. This was a minute-and-a-half of my life that I will never get back.

8. PLAY THE GAME

I'm sure that Dr. Dre was thrilled to discover that his “Tha Next Episode” was repurposed for an immature G-Unit attack record. The Game isn't a dummy, though: within the span of one verse, he addresses damn near ever single suspicious turn that Curtis Jackson's career has taken thus far. And yes, we all know that Tony Yayo is an old man. Can we not come up with something funnier? The skit at the end was also unnecessary, but this is a mixtape, so the laws of physics need not apply.

9. LIL' BIT (REMIX)

How is imitating Curtis Jackson's flow from the already lame-ass hit record “Just A Lil' Bit” supposed to act as a slap to the face of the G-Unit puppet dictator? All this proves is that The Game really wishes that he was Curtis. It's similar to the ongoing one-sided battle Jayceon is currently having with Jay-Z (he says the beef is squashed, but I don't buy that shit for one minute, since this is The Game we're talking about): the level of obsession is dangerously close to the level of Fatal Attraction. I hope Curtis doesn't own a pet rabbit.

10. M.O.B. FREESTYLE (FEAT. M.O.B.)

The Game takes a smoke break, allowing the members of M.O.B. to sneak into the booth and kick a couple of verses over Mobb Deep's “Quiet Storm”, which is ironic, as Mobb Deep was just about to align themselves with Curtis and, as such, become part of the problem and not part of the solution. The second rapper is far more interesting with his rhymes than the first guy, but the hook, which is awful, renders the song impotent anyway.

11. WHY YOU SMELL LIKE DAT (FEAT. ROCKSTAR & M.O.B.)

You shouldn't drag all of your weed carriers into your G-Unit beef, Game. Isn't this how the fight started in the first fucking place, when Curtis tried to force his petty beefs upon you?

12. STREET MUZIK (FEAT. SHEEK LOUCH)

I usually find myself defending Sheek (from The Lox) during his solo efforts, because he has to try that much harder to keep up with the likes of Jadakiss and Styles P. He isn't very good on here, but he is far better than Jayceon, whose tacked-on verse swipes the generic “street music” concept and takes a sloppy shit all over it, as he goes after Curtis and company nonstop without bringing any new or funny insults to the table. This was a waste of my time.

13. LYRICAL EXERCISE (FEAT. ROCKSTAR)

Rockstar receives a solo showcase, but oddly enough, the beat to Hova's “Lyrical Exercise” is not used (another dig at Shawn Carter, perhaps?). Rockstar sounds pretty interesting anyway, though, so this is an oasis in a desert filled with the tiresome rants of Jayceon Taylor, who was only able to focus on one thing at a time (the G-Unit beef, obviously) at this point in his career.

14. WHERE I'M FROM (FEAT. DR. DRE & NATE DOGG)

Although this track boasts appearances from both Dr. Dre and Nate Dogg, there isn't much going for it: Dre's ghostwritten lyrics sound bland and share the same consistency as Play-Doh (Dre has a tendency to always sound like his collaborators whenever he decides to actually drop a verse, usually because those same collaborators are also the guys putting the words into the man's mouth). This dream team sounds pretty good on paper, but this boring track never made it to an actual album for a reason, and not just because Dr. Dre cut ties with The Game after You Know What It Is Vol. 3 dropped.

15. NEVER BE FRIENDS

There's no reason for anybody to sample Aerosmith's “Dream On” if you're not going to also use the vocal sample during the hook: without that cherry topping, this is just a boring fucking loop. Which, I have to say, I kind of saw coming.

16. SWALLOW THAT SLUG (FEAT. CHARLI “CHUCK” B'MORE)

If Chuck B'More (better known as Charli Baltimore, former mistress to The Notorious B.I.G.) was truly hoping for a comeback in hip hop after this weak reworking of Gwen Stefani's annoying-as-fuck “Hollaback Girl”, then she is a fucking fool. This song is a travesty to the ears and should never be listened to by anybody.

17. HATE IT OR LOVE IT (STREET REMIX)

How deliciously meta: The Game redoes his own hit song “Hate It Or Love It”, adjusting the lyrics into a Curtis Jackson slam, which is rendered even stranger when you realize that Curtis and Jayceon recorded the original track together. On here, Game blatantly rips off Jackson's rhyme style during the parts on which he originally performed, even becoming confused enough at one point to call himself a homophobic slur which was supposed to be a dig at his former friend but turns into inadvertent self-loathing. Yeah, this was a strange little excursion.

18. ALL I NEED (FEAT. W.C.)

I like this song so much that I'm a little sad that it never made it onto one of Game's proper albums, but the reason this shit works is W.C., the West Coast veteran who C-walks away with the song as if it was your best friend's hot wife. Jayceon even adapts his flow to a whisper over this entertaining-as-shit club-ready beat. More tracks like this, and less G-Unit baiting, could have made You Know What It Is Vol. 3 a banger. Oh well.

19. PLAYAS ONLY (FEAT. R. KELLY)

Sounds like a quasi-sequel to “All I Need”, except that Game steals his cadence from his own “How We Do”, and R. Kelly's hook sounds at least twelve kinds of really fucking stupid. At least this track doesn't last very long.

20. LAY LOW (FEAT. M.O.B.)

With Snoop Dogg's message prior to the start of this beat-jacking of one of his better recent hits, it's almost as though he is endorsing Game's ridiculous beef against G-Unit (or, specifically, Tony Yayo, at least on this track), which can be problematic, as the only guy in hip hop that Snoop actually has a problem with these days is Suge Knight. To their credit, the members of M.O.B. don't cave in to peer pressure, sticking with the status quo while Jayceon lets his hurt feelings get the best of him. A poor use of what is still a pretty good Dr. Dre instrumental.

21. DREAMS (FEAT. THE NOTORIOUS B.I.G.)

A goofy inclusion, “Dreams” features The Notorious B.I.G.'s first verse from “Juicy” over the Kanye West-handled beat for Game's “Dreams”, even managing to work in some Faith Evans and Jay-Z sound bites from the Kanye-produced “A Dream” (from Hova's The Blueprint 2: The Gift & The Curse). Strangely enough, Game is nowhere to be found, which actually isn't entirely disappointing, given the high-caliber guest star. But aside from hearing 'Ye shout out the star attraction at the very beginning, there is no point for this mash-up to have ever appeared on a mixtape ostensibly promoting The Game.

22. JUSTO TRIBUTE

In an odd show of restraint, The Game steps away from all most of the ridiculous infighting prevalent on this project in order to pay tribute to the fallen founder of the annual Mixtape Awards, Justo Faison, who passed away from injuries sustained in a car accident earlier in 2005. And with that, You Know What It Is Vol. 3 is over.

SHOULD YOU TRACK IT DOWN? Sure, if you like hearing rappers complain about one another for the duration of an entire mixtape (although, to be fair, The Game did warn us with that shitty album cover). You Know What It Is Vol. 3 upholds its promise of relentlessly attacking Curtis Jackson and the G-Unit, and back when it first dropped I had more of an interest in this beef, as I didn't care for Curtis, but in listening to this today, only a handful of the tracks manage to hold up, and Jayceon's attacks grow tiresome midway through the second fucking track. You Know What It Is Vol. 3 is better than the previous two installments, mainly because The Game was that much closer to establishing his true identity in this rap shit, as opposed to just being the guy who was still trying to find his footing while throwing half-assed shots toward Memphis Bleek and Joe Budden. This is for Game and rap beef historians only.

-Max

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My Gut Reaction: The Game - LAX (August 26, 2008)

Troubled young rapper Jayceon Taylor, who used to be known as The Game until he dropped the article recently, released what was to be his third and final major label album LAX in 2008.  But in order to understand the project on its own terms, it's best to rewind a bit.


After signing to Interscope Records and lucking into a contract with Dr. Dre's Aftermath vanity label (an agreement that only happened after Interscope head Jimmy Iovine was debating whether to drop the young upstart or keep him, ultimately convincing Curtis Jackson to take him under his wing in an effort to guarantee record sales), The Game alienated damn near every single person that had ever worked with him, as he has a tendency to take even the smallest petty beefs seriously.  His debut, The Documentary, sounded entirely different from his follow-up, The Doctor's Advocate, and that not just because Dr. Dre had nothing to do with the latter project: as he gained more experience in our chosen genre, he tried his hand at actually writing songs, as opposed to the simple shit-talking that became more and more prevalent on his mixtapes.  Failing that, though, Jayceon resorted to what he knew best: dropping pop culture references within a sea of insults and threats, and wrapping those elements around a poorly-conceived hook.


LAX was to be Game's final contribution to the cause merely because he felt that he had nothing more to say, so if you could please ignore his multiple mixtapes after the fact and the upcoming The RED Album, he would appreciate it, thanks.  In that respect, he pulled out all the stops, doing his best to gather an all-star motley crew of collaborators from all over the hip hop spectrum (but not those from his past: although they garner many a mention on LAX, neither Dr. Dre nor anybody from G-Unit make appearances, which isn't all that surprising).  He even managed to score a minor hit and move some units.  However, LAX was poorly received from critics and most of Jayceon's own fans, who used LAX as their reason to stop following their hero, who was supposed to be bringing West Coast gangsta rap into the new millennium. 


So why is this a Gut Reaction post and not a regular review?  The easy answer is that I didn't care about LAX when it dropped.  I followed Game's career via his mixtapes (which, at this point, were winding down from the numerous attacks on G-Unit and Curtis Jackson specifically), but the songs that actually hit radio airwaves were not very interesting to me.  The fact that the overexposed Lil' Wayne, who still garners approximately seventy-six blog posts a day even though he's in prison, appeared on the hit song "My Life" was probably also a factor, if I'm being honest with you two: the moment his Auto-Tuned voice hit the chorus, I changed the channel with a quickness.


As such, this is the first time I've ever listened to LAX.  Am I going to like it?  It's too soon to tell, but odds are that you two will already know my answer.


1. INTRO (FEAT DMX)
You know what's a fantastic idea? Taking an obsolete rapper, placing him up front, and forcing him to spout religious bullshit that could potentially alienate a good chunk of your audience. Great work, Earl. You can crawl back into your cave now.


2. LAX FILES
Jayceon leads listeners to believe that LAX Starts off with a sobering meditation on death, even going so far as to ask everyone to imagine how he felt when he was in his coma (the one from which he woke up and decided to rap, without any consideration for that career choice occurring beforehand). J.R. Rotem's slow-rolling beat even adds to that imagery (save for the air horn). But then The Game threatens anybody and everybody who even thinks about going into his hood. Mixed messages are common in Jayceon's work, but this is one of the most blatant examples. It appears as though he even threatens Larenz Tate at one point. And then he calls himself Starface, in a reference to the tattoos he has on his face. In the words of Amy Poehler and Seth Meyers: really?


3. STATE OF EMERGENCY (FEAT ICE CUBE)
Game spins a yarn about “a hood n---a with no direction”, but that description also applies to this J.R. Rotem-produced track, which is so aimless with its narrative that it might as well be Richard Linklater's Slacker. (Although I like Slacker, so that comparison doesn't really work for me.) I see that Jayceon invited one of the godfathers of West Coast rap to the party and then immediately assigned him coat check duites: Ice Cube only provides half of a hook (half!), and he has to suffer the dual indignities of Game disrespecting his “Once Upon A Time In The Projects” for personal gain and the shout-outs to his former Westside Connection coworker-turned-sworn enemy Mack 10. This was pretty forgettable.


4. BULLETPROOF DIARIES (FEAT RAEKWON)
Wins the award of the most surprising and yet most pointless collaborative effort on LAX. (I'll try not to get started on the fact that the “bulletproof” half of the title should actually apply to Ghostface Killah and not Raekwon, thanks to Bulletproof Wallets.) Unlike poor Doughboy on the previous song, the Chef actually gets to spit a verse, one which sounds decent enough but would come across clearer with better production. The Game is obviously thankful that Rae returned his calls, as he spends his first verse referencing random Wu-Tang Clan trivia (his mention of The RZA's pointy rings made me laugh), but ultimately this song should have been a lot more interesting. This doesn't bode well for the rest of LAX.


5. MY LIFE (FEAT LIL' WAYNE)
This song, which was one of the singles, begins with a violent thirty-second skit that obviously wouldn't make it to radio airwaves. Two things that annoy me about this song: guest Lil' Wayne's overuse of Auto-Tune on the chorus, and The Game's heavy use of pop culture references that make up the majority of his verses. (“I ain't no preacher, but here's my Erick Sermon”? That shit doesn't even make sense, son!) The original version of the song, readily available on the Interweb, featured a second verse that many interpreted as a direct shot at Eminem. He should have left it in: I don't think The Game would ever win any sort of battle with Marshall, but that would have made the track (which was a hit, sadly) far more fascinating than what we ended up with. Also, we wouldn't have ended up with the Erick Sermon line, as that was a last-minute switch-up.


6. MONEY
The Game turns in his attempt at providing the theme song for Oliver Stone's Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps (my God is that a goofy title), failing to understand that Wall Street is located in New York and not California. Foiled again! Jayceon's ode to the almighty dollar can't help but sound hopelessly generic: there are only so many ways to talk about money without coming across as derivative. Cool & Dre's beat (those guys are still around?) wasn't completely horrible, although the vocal sample repeating the song's title straddles the line between passable and grating, but Game wasn't even trying to come up with anything clever. Hell, even the song's fucking title is nondescript.


7. CALI SUNSHINE (FEAT BILAL)
I get it: Game really loves his home state. But so do a lot of people, such as Katy Perry and Snoop Dogg (also known today as the King of the Gummi Bears). Why hasn't there ever been an ode to fucking North Dakota? You guys need to get on that shit. As to why Jayceon chose to kick off a California anthem with some facts about Jazze Pha and Curtis Jackson, two artists (using that term loosely here) who have no Cali ties, I'm not sure, but he ends his second verse promising to help any rapper (that he actually likes) get their chain back after they are inevitably robbed underneath all of that California sunshine. Bilal, who contributes only the poorly-written hook, fails to convince anybody to hop on a plane and visit the Golden State.


8. YA HEARD (FEAT LUDACRIS)
The goofy beat, which I imagine came to fruition after one of the engineers accidentally spilled his Shasta on the equipment, and the guest appearance from Ludacris help “Ya Heard” establish itself as both the best song on LAX. Thus far, and as completely and entirely disconnected from the rest of the album as humanly possible. Jayceon still hasn't figured out how to write a verse without the crutch of name-dropping, which means these songs will sound even more dated next year than they do today during my first listen, two years removed from its original release date. But this could have been worse, although I'm still convinced that Game has lost his way since The Documentary.


9. HARD LIQUOR (INTERLUDE)
Didn't Game have an unreleased Dr. Dre-produced song called “Hard” or “Hard Liquor” hit the Interweb around the time The Documentary dropped? Because I'm almost certain that he uses that exact song in the background during this useless skit (that also seems to feature Nas for some reason). I hope Andre received some royalties for this shit...oh wait, nobody really bought LAX. Oh well, carry on.


10. HOUSE OF PAIN
Game sounds like both Dre and Nas on this track. Considering the fact that Dre and Esco don't really sound anything alike, this was quite the feat in the art of mimicry, no matter how inadvertent it may be on Jayceon's part. DJ Toomp's beat isn't bad at all: a better rapper (for instance, Xzibit) could have turned this shit into something good. Game manages a decent enough performance, but I'm growing tired of him hitting all of the exact same points on every fucking song.


11. GENTLEMAN”S AFFAIR (FEAT NE-YO)
The Game's requisite “song for the ladies”, in that he spends the track's duration describing various sex acts he would like to perform on your girl and her friends, pretty please? Crooner Ne-Yo gets more screen time than one would anticipate, but that isn't any sort of endorsement: other artists have made far better sex raps. J.R. Rotem's beat is par for the course, in that it sounds as plain as the rest of LAX thus far. Jayceon should have his ear for beats checked.


12. LET US LIVE (FEAT CHRISETTE MICHELE)
At this point, Jayceon seems to have realized that he has come nowhere near providing the audience with anything resembling an entertaining album, so to rectify this, Game hires Chrisette Michele, the go-to R&B hook singer of the week, and utterly wastes her. The lyrics on here are all ugly, causing the audience to desert, and the Scott Storch (that guy's still around?) , among his worst ever, doesn't help much. At least Game explains why he isn't actually upset with Mobb Deep and M.O.P., even though they got lumped into his tirade against G-Unit because they were, well, a part of G-Unit at the time. That was oddly mature of him.


13. TOUCHDOWN (FEAT RAHEEM DEVAUGHN)
“Radio” Raheem turns this sexual excursion of a song into his own effort: The Game's gimmicky verses (which are decidedly not about football, although Eli Manning scores a mention for some reason) are quickly forgotten with the passage of time. Actually, everything about this song sucks, so I'm surprised that I've used so many words on it. Moving on...


14. ANGEL (FEAT COMMON)
Not many albums would have the balls to feature both Ice Cube and Common in cameo roles, mainly because those two artists play to wildly different audiences. (I'm sure the past beef between those two had nothing to do with it.) Lonnie Lynn actually gets a verse, though, so he wins again! His inclusion only seems to occur so Jayceon has an excuse to branch out and talk about Chicago instead of California, but this Kanye West-helmed track isn't that bad, mostly because Common goes out of his way to adapt to his host's surroundings.


15. NEVER CAN SAY GOODBYE (FEAT LATOYA WILLIAMS)
AN artistic gamble that blows up in our host 's face. After a heavy-handed explanation as to what the song is about (the deaths of 2Pac, The Notorious B.I.G., and Eazy-E), The Game uses one verse for each late rapper, pretending to actually be those guys during their last moments of life. Bonus points for sticking with the theme, as his random name-dropping actually makes sense on here, and it helps set the scene accordingly. The song was ultimately too creepy to work for me (and Game's Biggie imitation was appalling, especially as he chooses not to mimic 2Pac and Eazy: is this the beginning of the second phase in the East Coast/West Coast war?), and I feel it will sound polarizing for the two of you, as well.


16. DOPE BOYS (FEAT TRAVIS BARKER)
This appears to be the only track on LAX with a sound that grabs you immediately. I anticipate the instrumental (crafted by a committee featuring 1500 or Nothin', DJ Quik, and Travis Barker himself) eventually being uses to score movie trailers and sporting events, Fort Minor-style. Lyrically, however, the song is an incoherent mess, as the topics range wildly from taking a sly potshot at Dr. Dre (this man absolutely knows how to hold a grudge) to, if taken literally, fucking a girl through her bellybutton, Tommy Wiseau-style. (Because rap lyrics are always supposed to be taken literally.) The hook is also not very well thought out: it's obvious that Jay-Z's “Roc Boys (And The Winner Is...)” was the main inspiration, but Jayceon and Barker (hip hop's second drummer of choice, the first one being ?uestlove) only half-remembered the opening line of the chorus and Sweded the rest.


17. GAME'S PAIN (FEAT KEYSHIA COLE)
The first single, I think: it may have also been called just “Pain” before Game's narcissistic urges took over. There isn't much talk of any sort of pain, though: “Game's Pain” touches only on the history of hip hop as viewed through our host's limited perspective. Keyshia Cole's chorus is technically proficient, but terrible nonetheless, mainly because there is no soul behind her vocals: she was merely a singer-for-hire on here. Actually, the more I think about this shit, the more it pisses me off: what the fuck is with the misleading title, Jayceon? I knew he was an asshole, but resorting to such misdirection was a low blow. (Of course, I fully admit that I may have missed the lone mention of a scuffed knee or something.)


18. LETTER TO THE KING (FEAT NAS)
For the final song on LAX, The Game ditches any idea of subtlety and speaks directly to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., in an attempt to be serious, a tactic that sounds false coming from the same guy who spent the rest of the album threatening to kill his enemies, rape their women, and partake of their foodstuffs. This kind of song works much better for guest star Nas, who seems to be embarrassed to be in the same musical category as our host, but he does what he can. I don't know what caused Game to turn all socially conscious all of a sudden, but I trust that this probably won't be happening much in the future.


19. OUTRO (FEAT DMX)
Hey, DMX collected two paychecks for his work on LAX. I hope that money goes to good use, and not to cocaine or pocket-sized pit bulls or some shit.


There is a deluxe version of LAX that features a few extra songs, one of which was even released as a single (“Camera Phone”, featuring Ne-Yo once again), but I don't have that one, nor do I care to. I think what I listened to was plenty.


THE LAST WORD: Much of LAX sounds so vapid, empty, and soulless that it's hard to tell if The Game was simply fucking with us or not. LAX is a study of disconnection: specifically between the different tracks themselves and between Jayceon and reality. He claims to be widely hated in hip hop and lashes out at anybody who he believes to have wronged him, although (a) he has not reached the same levels of success after burning bridges with Dr. Dre and Curtis Jackson (although he has started the reconciliation process with the former, I understand), and (b) for someone who claims to have no friends, a whole lot of motherfuckers sure made it a point to make guest appearances on here. It's actually quite amazing how much these songs fail to mesh with one another, considering that he's saying the exact same bullshit on nearly every track. The Game is a competent enough rapper, one who I enjoy listening to on occasion, but on LAX he puts almost zero effort into his rhymes, letting his pop culture references and random threats speak for him like an unnecessarily gangsta episode of VH1's I Love The '80s. Musically, he needs to gain the confidence needed to tell his producers “no”, as most of the beats fail to leave a mark, even while the song is still playing. Game is capable of writing interesting verses, but that isn't evident on LAX. I almost wish this really was his final album, just so he would go the fuck away, but alas, we aren't that lucky. Pass.


-Max


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