Jay-Z’s Kingdom Come – The Review

” Fat titties turn to teardrops as fat ass turns to flab
Sores that was open wounds eventually turn to scab
Trees bright and green turn yellow brown
Autumn called ‘em, see all them leaves must fall down, growin old”
Here’s the thing and as with most things, I could be wrong about this. There’s nothing exciting about a Hip Hop album from a well adjusted, comfortable middle aged man. As in all other fields, the best art comes from a state of discomfort.

I sympathize with Jay-Z’s dilemma on Kingdom Come. He’s gone and done what Andre 3000 is willing to give up on without even trying, making a grown up Hip Hop album. Andre said he’s quitting rap because he doesn’t want to be an old man on a stage trying to get the crowd hype. He rather be in a jazz club playing a saxophone or doing something equally suave and age appropriate. Before hearing Kingdom Come, I didn’t at all appreciate Andre’s position, thinking that of the premier lyricists of all time at least ought to give Hip Hop a chance to evolve before quitting on it. After hearing Jay attempt this, I’m not so certain. This album is flat out boring. There’s no hunger, no urgency, no immediacy to any of this music. And without that, there is no compelling reason to replay this thing, no matter how mature and expensive everything sounds.

Kingdom Come has some truly awful songs. That a man who calls himself Jay-Hova should allow a song as God forsaken as “Show Me What You Got” out the studio is enough to cause one to lose belief in the existence of God or Jay as God MC. The rhymes are astonishingly lazy, the beat is earthshakingly bad, the “wave, wave” shit is cornier than Camron in pink and purple; the whole mess makes me cringe everytime it comes on and I fear for humanity when someone starts singing along with it.

“Thirty Something” has a few decent lines in the verses. A thoughtful Jay-Z reflecting on his new found maturity and beating the young ones down with it. One could behind anything so obviously counter to the industry/standard direction. Except of course, the fucking obnoxious chorus. “30’s the new 20?” That’s the best the fucking God MC can come up with? Not to mention that, as Jim Jones (can’t believe I’m referencing, and agreeing with, this horse’s ass) rightly points out, fucking Jay-Z is nearer 40 than 30, soHov ’s general position doesn’t even make any sense. Couple this with the nightmarish Vegas revue beat he backs the song with and the fact that there’s nothing more uncool than a middle aged person trying to explain why he’s still cool and all that’s missing is Angela Bassett’s presence to prove that Jay-Z is on someHow Stella Get Her Groove Back shit.

“Do You Wanna Ride,” “Hollywood,” and “I Made It” all continue the trend of overly smooove beats, and the last of those offends further as it’s completely redundant. Wasn’t all of The Black Album (which I liked) one big “Mama I Made It” anthem? Why have another of those on his comeback album? And if Jay-Z and Beyonce never collaborate again, it’d be perfectly fine by me. Their track record is abysmal.

As to the good stuff… “Beach Chair” is some pretty new agey stuff, and it’s definitely a take or leave it track. I’ll take it. I think Chris Martin bodies the beat and even if Jay-Z is kind of mumbling half coherent, poorly thought out shit all over the track, I kind of like the overall effect. I’m not calling this a good song, just one that I don’t mind.

Now, “The Prelude” is fire. Jay knows his intros and if he’d spit with half this clarity and relevance on the rest of the album, it might not have been a godforsaken mess. I’m a geek and I don’t always mind hearing Hov brag, plus that Just Blaze beat is some kind of hot, so I quite like title track, “Kingdom Come.” It’s still top notch Jay-Z lyricism but it’s got great imagery, it’s playful and it works. This is acceptable as a big commercial single from any pretender to Biggie’s throne. There ought to be a minimum lyrical bar for any rapper who considers himself halfway decent and this is it. If you must dumb down for your audience, do it without causing fans of well written words to weep blood.

I wasn’t even that enamored of “Lost Ones” when I first heard it, but at this point, I’m willing to declare it the finest track on the album. Dre’s beat has grown on me, and Jay comes right, taking on Dame, B and his dead nephew sensitively and like a man. This track does something different.Hov bypasses the standard diss track and elevates personal issues to a really interesting and compelling artistic statement. Try saying that about “Dig A Hole” with its generic beat, generic threats and lazy lyrics. Jay’s done a seminaldiss song. You might remember a little track called “Takeover” where every line cut deep, leaving Nas and Mobb Deep bloody by the end of the track and credibly threatening the rest of the industry with the kiss off, “for all you other niggas throwing shots at Jigga, you only get half a bar, fuck y’all niggas.” If you ain’t gone spit for real, why spit at all?

“Trouble” actually has some kinda funny lines but the beat is so mind numbingly bad and Jay’s flow so totally off, I finally had to Google the lyrics to figure out what he was saying cause my attention just kep wandering away. Unbelivable how bad some of the beats these legends (Dre- Trouble) and wannabe legends (Blaze – Show Me) make and choose (Jay). I wonder what’s up with their hearing, probably producer’s ear, too many hours in the booth.

That’s three good songs on an album that veers from overly generic to overly smooth, easy listening shit. I’m sure there are people out there who like that kind of thing. Apparently 700, 000 of them this week. I imagine the majority of them also await Britney’s next album with bated breath. If it’s important to you that hip hop have heart and hunger, some kind of vitality to it, this is not the album for you. Probably the best summation of all my arguments in the bonus track, “44 Four’s.” I didn’t go watch Jay-Z perform Reasonable Doubt this Summer, but thanks to the wonder of YouTube, I did get to see him thrill with lyrical prowess, declaring his niceness one line at a time on the new verse to “22 Two’s,” his original “Respect Me, I’mHov ” track. The verse was ill, no hater could deny it. So what does Jay-Z do on the album. He takes the beat to the original track, rerecords it with arena sound and a faked audience that doesn’t compare to the rawness of the original, then delivers the new verse so poorly it loses all the punch it had in concert. Fucker sounds bored with his own shit. So am I.

I’ll leave you with one final thought, one that once again brings in Andre 3000. Go listen to Atliens, an album where for some reason Outkast sounded really grown and contemplative, despite it being their second full length outing. Tell me it’s not more interesting, some sonically innovative, more thoughtful and in every way a better album than this bullshit. Andre really needs to give us some more before he quits.

Outkast – Decatur Psalm

Outkast – 13th Floor (Growing Old)

Androgynous, but oh so cool

I totally approve. Peep the Sart.

Hell Hath No Fury – The Review

Hell Hath No Fury is one of the best named albums ever. This is a fiercely pissed off album. It all but dares you to crack a smile as you listen to it. Everything is subterranean, glaringly focused and totally airtight. No room to breathe, for the verses, for the listeners or participants in the drug world that is so vividly talked about.

The only beats with any levity on this album are those for “Mr. Me Too” and “Dirty Money”. The first is a minimalist masterpiece in the mold of and on par with Snoop’s “Drop It Like It’s Hot,” and the other, not much busier features a repetitive but entertaining little guitar thrill and the words dirty money, dirty money whispered over and over again. “Mr. Me Too” is hella fun, and “Dirty Money” isn’t too bad either, but this is not nearly enough reprieve from the dense claustrophobia of the rest of the album. “Wamp Wamp” features a relentless assault of steel drums and other percussion that whip up an orgy of fury and motion. It’s a fitting background for some of the album’s most inventive and enjoyable lyrics:

“No hotter flow dropper, since Poppa, you penny ante niggas see I know copper. Left the game on a high note, flow opera.” – Pusha

“I got the wamp, wamp, when I move it, it’s still damp. Mildewish, I heat it, it turns glueish, cools to a tight wad, the pyrex is Jewish!” – Malice

“Ain’t Cha,” has insistent drums, furious pacing and chimes but still isn’t as amazing as “Wamp Wamp.” The opener, “We Got It For Cheap, “is a percussive, hollow drum led declaration of intent allowing the Clipse to review the game as it is and their place in it. Every beat on the album but the aforemenntioned though, wallows underground. Even when enjoyable, like on “Hello New World’s” distorted synth goodness, these are not cheerful beats and while that is a sign of the Clipse unwillingness to compromise and mindset as the album was made, they definitely drag the album down.

I’ll get to the point. What is wrong with this album is it’s joylessness. The Clipse are XXL as rappers and lyricists. The hunger is zombie like in it’s intensity, the flow is opera (can’t say it better), their intelligence and dedication to metaphor and grace in expression is Shakespearean. But they hang all of this talent around too spare a frame. Even fan boys of lyricism need real hooks. Repeating “Keys open doors” like a tourette’s sufferer over a funeral beat does not entertainment make. Like I said, lyrically all these tracks are unquestionable – “Bitch never cook my coke. Why? Never trust a whore with my child. At you make believe rappers I smile, CanalStreeting my style.” – Pusha . See what I mean? There’s humor here, but it’s all very black humor. Blast this track out your ride and folks will get it twisted and start looking around for a hearse.

Where are the anthems? Even the R.E.U.P.G.A.N.G. chant that held the WGIFC mixtapes together is mostly missing from this album, leaving you nothing to sing along to or help you connect to the razor sharp rhymes. And with beats like “Trill’s” fucked upsynths leaching the joy out of your soul, there is very little to enjoy as you coast from ultra sharp boast to ultra sharp threat.

Let no one tell you Hell Hath No Fury is mediocre. Everyone of those beats I just dissed is a magnificent work, technically proficient and exciting in its own way. They’re just frequently impossible to enjoy. The album is furiously conceived, impeccably executed and way ahead of the game in many ways. It is also totally uncompromising, refusing to pander in any way, even if that means refusing to entertain.

Anyway, I think the next Clipse album should recorded in record time and be ready by say, next Summer. Their skills are at or close to their peak and I don’t think any other rappers in the game have the talent or intelligence to make a better album than these guys are capable of. They just need to keep the imperative that their work is entertainment. It’s not enough to make fierce and truthful music. It must also somehow keep the audience engaged and entertained. They did thatsuccesfully by jacking other people’s enormous beats on the WGITFC mixtapes and can do it again if they accept that this album was a nice therapy session and they still need to make the album that will win the people.

Oh and the last thing is subject matter. Eventually the Clipse are going to have to move away from cocaine rap. I can’t wait for them to figure and surmount that challenge. They made a really good start in that direction on “Hello New World:

“I ain’t coming at you, quote, unquote, famous rapper, who turned positive, try to tell you how to live, but this information, I must pass to the homies, if hustling is a must, be Sosa, not Tony. We can all shine, I want your wrists lit like mine, neck and ears, I want it lit like mine, foreign cars, stick shift, six gears like mine, anything that keep momma from crying, visiting you behind that glass while you awaiting sentencing, cause the judge is saying life, like it ain’t someone’s life” – Malice

Magnificent. I can’t wait for the next time.

UPDATE: This, actually, is the definitive album review

Clipse the Audiophiles

The Clipse are making a bid to turn me into an audiophile. All the songs on their album really need good speakers and the best quality compression (or lack thereof really) that you can get. Even a song like “Wamp Wamp,” which has been around for a while, sounds so much better on the video than on any MP3 copy I have. On MP3 or poor speakers turned low, the drums don’t have room to breathe, can’t impress the way they need to and thus take some of the sheen off the lyrics as well.

I was really disappointed the first time I heard the album. Of course I was listening to it at 3AM, tired as all fuck and playing it low so as not to wake all the neighbours. I’ve not decided if it’s really XXL yet, but it’s improved massively now that I’m playing it loud enough and each track can hit with some force. More to come.

R.E.U.P.G.A.N.G: Clipse at the Knitting Factory (11/14)

In Virginia, we smirked at that Simpson trial

Yeah, I guess the chase was wild

But what’s the fuss about?

See, plenty my partners feelin’ like O.J.

Beat murder like the shit is OK, that’s what our door say
Liva must be 6′8 minimum. He came onstage wearing awhite polo shirt buttoned all the way up and looked like an awkward big brother to the Clipse until he started ripping those verses. Then he just sounded and looked like the fucking virtuoso he is. The only one not wearing any shine (Malice – brown watch strap, blinding gold faced watch, gold ropes, Pusha – white gold rope, watch the same, Sandman – gold rope), Liva is going to be impossible to market despite his ridiculous skills.

One of the things I like about the Clipse is the way they seem like total professionals. Yeah, they rap about dealing but they don’t half ass it. They’re totally committed. I can’t wait till they’re three albums away from the street and are forced to come up with some new shit to rap about to see how they deal with that challenge. In concert, this professionalism translates to delivery that transcends shitty sound systems (the Knitting Factory sucks donkey balls) and a performance that is almost military in it’s precision. Which is why Sandman almost disrupted things by coming in way after his cue, dressed in black as against the other three who had on white tees/polos and drinking a Heine. Focus mofo! Points from Sandman, points to Liva.

Unlike Liva, the Clipse set was hella short. Trying to remember what was performed, I’m barely cresting eight tracks. They opened with “Virginia,” sounding gully as hell, followed with “Cot Damn” and some other Lord Willin’ track. They did “Pussy,” which Pusha was really, really into and totally ripped it apart. Pusha is crazy animated on stage, eyes wide open, head thrown back, face contorted into almost cartoonish expressions and rapping along to pretty much everything the whole evening. Malice on the other hand was mad chill, playing the back when he wasn’t up or supporting the verse. What this meant for me was that I ended rapping along whenever a really crazy Pusha verse came on (“quit ya yappin’ fore I get ta clappin/And have your body parts mix and matching fella”) and then falling silent in anticipation to hear Malice drop his monster shit, like that infamous verse on “Wamp Wamp.” It was a pretty effective dynamic, Pusha selling it like crazy and Malice allowing it to come to him.

Breihan wrote after the last Clipse show that the boys almost seemed surprised to find out that people still liked them. None of that nonsense this time. They knew they were hot and worked the crowd like they meant it. Had out repeating that R.E.U.P.G.A.N.G. on the regular and pointing out that “they” (certain crackers at Jive I imagine) were in the building and to let them know that the streets were messing with Clipse shit even if said “they” didn’t understand it. So the crowd nearly brought the house down during the “Wamp Wamp” performance. That track followed Mr. Me Too and then they closed on a couple of tracks from WGIFC Vol. 2. Can’t remember what tracks because “Zen” came on right after the Clipse walked offstage and I was mad disappointed they didn’t bless us by performing that.

I got a pound from Liva who was trying to get a drink after the show and then faded without waiting to see if the Clipse came outside post concert. I don’t do celeb fuckery, even for my favorite dope boys.

As to the other fellas that were there that evening. Jokaman is a joke and I think I actually fell asleep on my feet during his set. May I never be subjected to such shit ever again. I didn’t really like the Trae album and was not much looking forward to seeing him in concert. I still don’t really like him but I have a lot more respect for him now. He’s got a hell of a presence and that mumbled, rapid fire flow of his is done in this totally rugged, cool voice. Overall I don’t find that he elevates the cars and ice material much further than the basic and I really don’t go for any flow that makes it really difficult to catch a rapper’s words. Besides he favors a lot of mid 90’s, R&B influenced production that quite frankly, is wack. One exception though is “Swang” which I never really realized he was on and which I quite like and enjoyed hearing in concert. Kidz in the Hall is a terrible name for a rap group, and said group came out with one or two nice beats and perhaps even some half decent rhymes in there. However when impatiently waiting for the leanest and meanest rap group to hit the streets in ages, one does not particularly want to pandered to by overly well fed, college grads who don’t seem to have that much exciting to say or particularly innovative ways of saying it, even if they do amuse by declaring that are bring Rawkus back. Good luck with that kidz. Find a better name and a bit more fire in your guts and I might even bother to check out your album.