My Gut Reaction: Flo Rida - Mail On Sunday (March 18, 2008)

Because today's a holiday (happy Thanksgiving, you two!), I figured that this post should be about a hip hop album that poses absolutely zero challenge to the listener. So before you get your panties in a bunch about the fact that this write-up is about Flo Rida, a guy who named himself after his home state (and not because he can "ride flows" - but that's a common misnomer), be sure to read through the entire thing first. I hope the writing is at least entertaining, even if you have preconceived notions about the guy posing with his arms crossed on the album cover.

Here's what I've learned about this guy in doing my research for these introductory paragraphs. Although, for all intents and purposes, he made his debut on the hip hop radio scene in 2008, he's apparently been around for quite a while. Born Tramar Dillard, he first got his start as a teenager, working alongside the likes of local legends 2 Live Crew. After attracting the attention of DeVante Swing from Jodeci (not unlike how Timbaland, Missy Elliott, Magoo, and Ginuwine all got their start), he found the music industry to be a huge bitch: none of the labels wanted to sign him. So Tramar did the smart thing: he ducked out of music for a period of time to pursue his college degree.

However, the fact that he was attending the University of Nevada in Las Vegas probably didn't help matters any. Realizing that his love of performing hadn't fully left his bloodstream after a rowdy night on the Strip in which he couldn't remember losing his best friend (who was supposed to get married the next day), he dropped out of his classes and made a triumphant return to his home state, by which I mean his family came to pick him up in an Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme, and they stopped at Burger King to pick up a snack prior to driving home.

Tramar, who by now had taken on the creative moniker Flo Rida, signed with the independent label Poe Boy Entertainment (I hesitate to write "indie", as that implies far more artistic merit than this artist deserves), and began to put himself out there, rapping alongside other Florida artists, such as Rick Ross, Trina, and Trick Daddy. (All illustrious names in the biz, I know.) He made his mainstream debut on a DJ Khaled posse cut called "Bitch I'm From Dade County", which used to include the subtitle "We Cost Gore The Presidency, We Have That Much Power", but was excised by the label for not being topical enough.

His debut album, Mail On Sunday, featuring appearances by T-Pain, Rick Ross, and (groan) Lil' Wayne, followed shortly after, on Universal Records.

Now here's one thing I do find interesting about the man's career. According to the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA), Flo has yet to sell even five hundred thousand copies of Mail On Sunday. This shit hasn't even gone gold. Which is puzzling, when you consider that his singles "Low", "In The Ayer", and "Elevator" were all omnipresent on the radio at one point ("Low" still generates airplay, actually). Then I found out that all of the man's singles have gone at least gold. Flo Rida is an artist of the new music generation: one in which his sales all appear to come from digital downloads of single-serving songs, as opposed to somebody actually buying his goddamn album and discovering that half of the shit on it sucks balls.

So why even release an album, Flo? You could probably live comfortably off of releasing singles for the rest of your career. I've seen how fans react to your songs in the clubs: you'll probably be eating off of them as long as this current wave of hip hop mediocrity sticks around.

Anyway.

1. AMERICAN SUPERSTAR (FEAT LIL WAYNE)
The fact that the very first song on Mail On Sunday features the most overexposed rapper in hip hop (Drake would be a close second as of this writing) should turn me off completely, but I'm trying to be objective. A guy who calls himself Da Honorable C.N.O.T.E. provides a beat that starts the album off in a dominating fashion: if Jay-Z were from the South, one of his album intros would probably use a similar instrumental. After hearing the asinine chorus, I've decided that the “roses” are given to the “bitches” as a way of apologizing for calling them “bitches” in the first place. Flo comes off as a fully realized artist right off the bat (relatively speaking), but this song is fairly awful. Not a shock, I know.

2. ACK LIKE YOU KNOW
Generic (and misspelled) rap song title aside (is it really that hard to spell the word “act”? You used the same amount of letters!), this track still manages not to work for me. However, it does sound completely different than the songs heavily promoted on the radio, so it accomplishes showcasing another facet in the Flo Rida diamond that he probably purchased with his advance without consulting an attorney and a financial advisor. Flo should also “ack” like he knows about health insurance, as the majority of artists signed to major label deals don't have any such coverage provided for them by their employer. I admit I went off topic just a smidge, but that is a true fact.

3. ELEVATOR (FEAT TIMBALAND)
This song still sounds almost exactly like Madonna's “4 Minutes”, that Timbaland-and-Danja-produced joint that features Justin Timberlake, so much so that I'm surprised that some enterprising deejay hasn't yet mashed the two tracks together. (Wikipedia claims that Flo Rida rhymes on an official Madonna-sanctioned remix to “4 Minutes”, but considering that the first time I read that was on Wikipedia, I'm understandably skeptical.) And yet, I still kind of like this song, although it's certainly not because of Flo's pedestrian pick-up lines. Timbaland's hook also sounds ridiculous (and, if taken literally, graphically violent: the elevator gets stuck when the bodies of hood rats and gold diggers pile up underneath the carriage!). But I like the beat. Oh, don't look so shocked: I'm still a fan of Tim Mosely's work, even if he does farm most of it out these days.

4. ROLL (FEAT SEAN KINGSTON)
If this song were recorded and released today, it would be one of those radio hits that hip hop purists (I count myself among their numbers, even with my occasional excursions into pop music territory) can't stand, all because Sean Kingston has briefly made himself relevant again with that “Fire Burning” song that your girlfriend likes. (I just discovered that this was, in fact, released as a single: there was just never a video shot for it. Weird. Well, they certainly never played it around my way.) You two may have noticed (if you're still reading this review) that, other than on “Elevator”, I haven't discussed Flo's lyrical skills at all: that's because there isn't anything to say. He's definitely not the worst rapper on the radio, but he isn't utilizing his talents to say anything of substance.

5. LOW (FEAT T-PAIN)
The first single from Mail On Sunday, which introduced the then-unknown Flo Rida to everybody that didn't live in Miami. Of course, radio stations only played the shit out of this because of T-Pain's appearance on the hook, which took place well before he stood upon a boat and sailed into the popular culture harbor. I don't exactly like this song, and I tend to switch the station whenever it's on (I really need to buckle down and get Sirius satellite radio in my car already, so I can just listen to 1st Wave and deal with the hip hop when I get home to the blog), but it does have a pleasing effect on women at the club, so I can't complain too much.

6. PRICELESS (FEAT BIRDMAN)
I suppose Cash Money/Universal Records (who must all be fellating themselves with pleasure since they had the foresight to sign Lil' Wayne to an apparent eight-hundred-album deal over a fucking decade ago, well before he became famous) threw in Birdman as an freebie extra when they signed off on the Weezy cameo from earlier. To his credit, Flo sounds okay, although he is much more “threatening” on here than he has been thus far. Baby, of course, sounds terrible.

7. MS. HANGOVER
I guess it's only a coincidence that Flo recorded a song called “Ms. Hangover”, and now one of his songs is prominently featured during one of the most memorable parts of The Hangover (the photo montage during the end credits). This tale of Flo being drunk off of the love (or, more specifically, the vagina) of an unnamed female is nothing new, except that he came up with a semi-clever title. As bad as this sounds already, this song could have benefited from a name-brand guest appearance on the hook. Just not from Trey Songz: that guy gets waaaay too much work for the limited range he appears to have.

8. STILL MISSIN'
Flo Rida skipped school the day the concept of a “metaphor” was introduced, as he literally rhymes about having sexual intercourse with garden tools on this track, which just so happens to lift some vocals from Outkast's “Jazzy Belle”. This Kane Beatz-produced song could have been potentially hilarious (especially when Flo shouts “That hoe cost me my job!” - just try not to laugh at that line) had it not been for the apparent lack of a sense of humor from our host.

9. IN THE AYER (FEAT WILL.I.AM)
The third single (“Elevator” was number two) is an electro-tinged confection from will.i.am from the sellout Black Eyed Peas. I always thought that fellow Pea Fergie appeared on the chorus: apparently, I was wrong. The writer in me would get pissed about the misspelling of the word “air” in the title, had the artists involved not literally mispronounced the word in that specific way throughout the hook. That's already far too much information for such a stupid-ass song, though. Not one of Flo's best club joints.

10. ME & U
I have to give Tramar a bit of credit here: instead of the sappy love rap written only to garner a female audience, made up of women who would falsely believe that Flo Rida is a sensitive soul because of his lyrics, even when he's fucking the shit out of them and three other groupies at the same time back at the hotel after the show, all while devouring lukewarm room service appetizers and watching a rerun of The Colbert Report, listeners get an angry rant directed at an ex that sounds corny, but then again, most fights with your significant other sound corny when you set them to music. Flo sounds fairly convincing on here, though, so that's where the aforementioned bit of credit comes from.

11. ALL MY LIFE
Sadly, not the K-Ci & Jo-Jo cover song that I was not so secretly hoping for. Instead, we get something that could be interpreted as semi-inspirational. Who wants to hear that shit on a Flo Rida album?

12. DON'T KNOW HOW TO ACT (FEAT YUNG JOC)
I noticed that Flo suddenly learned how to spell “act”, just in time for this song. Da Honorable C.N.O.T.E. once again mans the boards, this time ripping off Swizz Beatz's style wholesale, which isn't a good idea when Swizzy himself has made, like, one good beat in the past decade (Hova's "On To The Next One". I know, I'm ashamed, but I still like that joint.) Both Flo and Yung Joc seem to believe that not knowing how to behave in social situations is a perfectly acceptable alternative to motherfucking common courtesy. Which would be alright, if the accompanying music was catchy enough. But it's not, so I can't, and I won't.

13. FREAKY DEAKY (FEAT TREY SONGZ)
Oh shit, it's Trey Songz! Run! This guy is like the Gucci Mane of R&B: how in the fuck is he blowing up the radio right now? Just being able to hit notes and color within the lines isn't enough. How many cocks did his manager have to suck for “LOL :)” to become a hit? This track sounds neither freaky nor deaky enough for its title, and I'm an expert in the science of deaky, so this was a miss.

14. MONEY RIGHT (FEAT RICK ROSS & BRISCO)
To me, anyway, it has always made more sense for a rapper to brag about his financial prowess on his second album, after the motherfucker has legitimately made some actual money. So this song is already goofy. Officer Richard Ross is a fellow Florida resident, so his presence on this track isn't entirely unjustified, but I can think of at least three other folks I would have rather seen used. (Luther Campbell, because it would be funny if he tried to rap again; JT Money, just because I've been wondering whatever happened to that guy; Trina...okay, I'd only want to look at Trina.) This song is as good a way to end an album as any, although that isn't saying anything.

THE LAST WORD: It won't surprise you two to learn that Mail On Sunday isn't a very good album. What will shock you, though, is that I didn't hate it. Flo Rida is a pop artist through and through (I cannot picture this guy continuing to record independent albums when the money train rolls away – I'm sure he would give up on music, finish up his degree plan, and enter the work force), but he isn't the worst rapper out there: he does have a bit of a flow. And he's smart enough to realize that getting the women to like your music is the key to financial success: that's why the majority of Mail On Sunday is programmed to appeal to that half of the world's population. The missteps arrive when Flo decides that the streets are also worthy of his presence: as the violent content, nouveau riche braggadocio, and curse words start to flow, so does the man's credibility, right into the street's drainage system. Lyrically, there is nothing here: anybody looking to Flo Rida for lyrical bon mots also probably believes that George W. Bush was a good president. The production, when taken track by track, is also uniformly bland. But when you play the entire album from top to bottom, the songs all blend together in an unoffensive manner. If Mail On Sunday was playing at a party, I wouldn't complain: I would just pour another drink and shut the fuck up. And if Flo Rida's music comes on in the club, my eyes would be directed at the dance floor. But should you ever go out of your way to actually listen to this album? Fuck no! But you could do a lot worse.

-Max

Reader Review: Canibus - Can-I-Bus (September 8, 1998)

(For today's write-up, Jason has decided to provide another perspective on the debut album from Canibus, creatively titled Can-I-Bus. Longtime readers may remember that I felt this project deserved nothing more than a Drink Coaster review, so for those of you who were waiting on a track-by-track commentary, today's your lucky day.)

Like a lot of kids in 1998, I bought Can-I-Bus, the debut album from Canibus, the day it dropped. I had spent months following every guest spot and mixtape verse I could get my hands on. This was before albums leaked to the Internet and before every rapper dropped (at least) six mixtapes full of material before getting their record deal. This was back when an album release felt like an event (and took an act of God).

Canibus was my favorite rapper at the time, and that was based on nothing more than a handful of verses. Why? Because his dick was like planet Earth: everybody was on it. Because he ambushed MCs like Vietnamese in fatigues covered in leaves. Because if you were number one, he was negative two; that means he’s still better than you. (I have to admit, that last boast doesn't really make sense, but I'm not a math major, so maybe I'm missing something.) Canibus would consistently make me angry whenever he spit his verses, because I didn’t come up with his punchlines first. Nobody could tell me that LL Cool J got the best of him, either. Nobody.

So I was ecstatic when I paid my fifteen dollars for Can-I-Bus that September afternoon. I threw it into my Discman and listened to it front to back, twice, without interruptions.

And like most other kids who swore Canibus was their favorite rapper in 1998, I was disappointed.

It wasn’t what I had expected. I wanted twelve consecutive “Second Round K.O.”'s, but instead, I received several tracks about aliens and verses written from the perspective of sperm. The production also seemed to contradict the aggressive nature of Germaine Williams: if he appeared angry, the beats came off as whimsical.

I would argue in defense of Can-I-Bus with my friends, but I was lying to myself also. I needed to admit it: I had expected a classic, but didn’t receive it.

Years passed. My devotion to hip-hop remained, but my interest in Canibus (understandably) waned. Sure, I bought his sophomore joint, 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus), and even picked up that inexcusable C! True Hollywood Stories album, but I never named Germaine among my favorite rappers again. Instead, he became a cautionary tale. For example, whenever somebody talks about Papoose, Saigon, Joell Ortiz, or some other mixtape “maestro”, I mumble, “Wait for the album.” (This is actually really good advice for any hip hip fan.)

Then, a few years ago, I returned to Can-I-Bus. I needed something to listen to while running, and my hand stopped on its jewel case. And once again, Canibus surprised me—but this time the surprise was a welcome one. His punchlines were as vicious as I remembered, but amidst the lyrical slaughter, I discovered well-written songs about actual topics. The production, while still subdued, was also better than I remembered.

Perhaps the problem with Can-I-Bus wasn’t lackluster production or the lack of lyrical variety. Maybe it was my own heightened expectations.

1. INTRO
I’m not sure what the point of this intro was. This does nothing to build anticipation for the coming album. Hence, this obligatory rap album intro is a failure.

2. PATRIOTS
“I make your bitch crew shit stools / I put a pistol in your mouth and pull / Then I feed you to the pitbulls.” Now, this is more like it. Canibus spits like his record deal is on the line: he warns you that he can kill anything if it bleeds or breathes, and reminds you that his “rhyme method” is like a medieval torture method. A verse from Free (of BET's 106 & Park fame) can't even derail this train.

3. GET RETARDED
This song suffers from a disconnect between production and lyrical content. Salaam Remi’s beat is trippy—perfect for, say, Q-Tip to spaz out over—but Canibus is spitting that battle shit, and consequently, the lyrics are good, the beat is fine, but the song is less than the sum of its parts. (I happen to like this song, but I can agree with this argument, as well.) The responsibility for that ultimately falls on the MC: Canibus could have written something more appropriate for the musical accompaniment. However, there is a remix to this track on Sway and King Tech’s album This or That that is far superior. The lyrics remain unchanged, but the musical backing is a much better match. You should hunt it down. It’s only one verse long, but it reveals the potential Canibus has when his lyrics and production are better paired.

4. N---ONOMETRY
The two most common criticisms of Canibus are as follows: (1) He selects beats that he is not best suited for, and (2) he can only write hot verses, not coherent songs. “N---onometry” is evidence to the contrary. Canibus gives a pointed critique of the music industry and of those who flash money they don’t truly have. He acts as an advocate for common sense in a genre that eschews it. (That's actually a really good way of putting it.) And the LL Cool J potshot at the end? Completely unnecessary, and detrimental to his overall point.

5. SECOND ROUND K.O. (FEAT MIKE TYSON)
How much do I need to say? This is an eviscerating dis track, a throat punch, a kill shot. More importantly, this is a very good song. Even if a listener were unaware of Canibus and LL Cool J’s history, they could still enjoy the track off of the strength of the plucked bass line, ominous choir, sharp punchlines and menacing delivery. The lone flaw in the song: Germaine's boast that LL couldn't “eat a n---a ass like me” line. Awkward.

6. WHAT'S GOING ON
Another example of the underrated songwriting ability of our host. Canibus warns listeners about the dangers of gun violence over a Bobby Womack-laced beat. “Believe or not, the government wants that / So they can use it as an excuse to shut down rap.” This song doesn’t have the sharpest punchlines, nor the most bracing production, but it’s still the best song on Can-I-Bus.

7. I HONOR U
Canibus is a weird dude, no question. The “Dear Mama”-type song was already a common trope in hip hop by 1998. So how does Canibus add his own twist? He raps from the prenatal perspective—first as spermatozoa, then as a fetus. Does it work? No, not really. The artifice distracts from his point. Who cares what he was thinking about as a sperm? He’s supposed to be talking about his mother. It's too bad, because the production on here is fantastic, and the chorus (sung by MB2) is genuinely touching.

8. HYPE-NITIS
The good: an insightful update of Biz Markie's “Vapors”. A lot of rappers talk about the unwanted attention they suddenly received when they became famous, but few have written about is as thoughtfully as Canibus. The bad: a boring and oft-repeated chorus. This song also has an odd structure: four eight-bar verses separated by an eight-bar chorus. Consequently, this song spends just as much time on the hook as it does the verses, which is ultimately the song’s downfall, because the hook is static. It’s not engaging and never varies, despite the amount of times it is repeated.

9. HOW WE ROLL
Pick a quotable, any quotable. “I’m barbaric with the alpha-numeric / With the type of lyrics that separate your body from your spirit…We’re savages, snatching microphones from amateurs / Because, like women who have abortions, I ain’t having it...Comin’ after ya / Blastin’ ya / With the shotgun like a front-seat passenger.” Canibus teaches a doctorate-level course on punchline writing and delivery over a DJ Clark Kent beat. He even bothers to write an acceptable hook, which many of his contemporaries tend to ignore.

10. CHANNEL ZERO
Canibus is either the nerdiest hardcore rapper or the hardest nerdcore rapper I’ve ever heard. This song is pretty much a rant on Roswell. It’s well-written, the beat is dope and it’s nice to hear Mr. Cheeks (of the Lost Boyz) return the favor from “Beasts from the East” (Canibus was also slitting his time between the Refugee Camp and the Lost Boyz crew around this time in his career), but the unusual subject matter is self-destructing.

11. LET'S RIDE
“Let’s Ride” suffers from the same musical disconnect as “Get Retarded.” A Kid Called Roots lays down a smooth beat over which Canibus could have spit some simplistic pimp shit. Instead, Canibus decides to rip it to shreds. Even more disconcerting, Wyclef and Product still sing a smooth hook as if Canibus was not just spitting flames. But the difference between “Get Retarded” and “Let’s Ride” is that “Let’s Ride” is so good the disconnect doesn't matter.

12. BUCKINGHAM PALACE
This song is composed of random verses over a serviceable Wyclef and Jerry Wonder-produced tack. Whether or not you like this song depends on how much you enjoy random Canibus verses. I happen to like them, but your mileage may vary.

13. RIP ROCK
Wyclef Jean has become a master of fusing genres. He can combine a Black Eyed Peas-influenced trifle with a Soca workout, Chamillionaire with Bollywood, and Paul Simon with hip-hop. However, this rock-rap mixture fails, partly because the guitar riff is a cliché and Canibus is far too aware of the “experimental” nature of the song.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Can-I-Bus is not an unqualified success. It has some incredible moments and some interesting failures. Canibus did not release this album as a fully formed artist. Instead, he was an artist with extraordinary potential. However, that potential never came to fruition, partly because of the enormous expectations placed on his shoulders. After this release, Canibus made an album, 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus) that was supposed to be exactly what people wanted from him: fourteen tracks of spitting fire and battling the universe. Which might have sounded like a good idea at the time, but it was very monotonous in practice. Ultimately, Canibus became a caricature of himself—spitting one hundred-bar verses without a thought to convention or to the craft of songwriting. One can’t help but wonder what Canibus might have matured into had he recognized the need for his own artistic growth.

BUY OR BURN? That’s a tough one. Despite my sentimental preference for this album, I recognize it won't be for everyone. I’d recommend a burn, but some of you may feel compelled to purchase it after listening.

BEST TRACKS: “Second Round K.O.”; “What’s Going On”; “How We Roll”; “Let’s Ride”

-Jason

(Be sure to leave your questions, comments, and concerns below. And for the sake of comparison, here is the link to my original review.)

Reader Review: Elzhi - The Preface (August 12, 2008)

(Today, the Reader Reviews continue with A.R. Marks and his opinion on Elzhi's The Preface. And, as usual, I'm still accepting submissions: I'm especially fond of the reviews for albums that I may not have gotten to normally. Enjoy!)

Like almost any conceivable place in the U.S. not commonly referred to as “New York,” “Cali” or “The South” (and in the latter two examples, even some spots within those designated areas), the hip-hop scene in Detroit, Michigan was almost uniformly self-contained before one breakout star managed to transcend the regional stage. Due to the sheer magnitude of a certain white rapper's popularity, Detroit suddenly became a new hot spot for hip hop talent which was actually somewhat varied in style, as it housed not only cartoonishly twisted artists such as D12 and Esham, but also aggressive "gangsta" acts such as Trick Trick and (to a much lesser extent) Royce da 5'9”, and even soulfully "conscious" (even though this has become almost a four-letter word in hip-hop, it's still applicable) artists such as One Be Lo, Black Milk and Slum Village, the latter of which is a group that includes the subject of today's review.

It transpires that Elzhi became one of the most continuously active members of Slum Village, a crew with somewhat of a revolving door when it came to members, which included the late J Dilla (I refuse to call him by his much more generic moniker, Jay Dee, seeing as (1) it's just an abbreviation for his actual nickname, and (2) there's too goddamn many “Jay” artists in hip-hop—Jay-Z, J-Live, J-Love, J-Zone, J Hood, Jay Millz, J. Period, J.R. Writer, etc.) was a founding member, but left to pursue the freedom to provide all of hip-hop with his talents; Baatin, another founding member, was diagnosed with schizophrenia and left the group as well; T3, the founding member that actually remains a part of the crew; and while he was never formally a member, SV briefly associated themselves with producer Waajeed (before realizing that fellow Detroit producer Black Milk was much more talented). It unfortunately seems as though every formal member of the group who leaves eventually dies, albeit of natural causes.

R.I.P. J. Dilla & Baatin. Moment of silence.

Moving on from that depressing tidbit, we come to the history of Elzhi, who undoubtedly became (if not started out as) the most lyrically-gifted member of the group thus far. His first major appearance, or at least the album on which I first heard him - or even Slum Village, for that matter - was on Pete Rock's Soul Survivor II, an otherwise mostly-underwhelming effort. The song, appropriately entitled “Da Villa,” first saw the light of day in 2004, showcasing the young Detroit native completely weaving lyrical circles around his SV co-star. Elzhi's debut album, The Preface, came four years later, in 2008, and even though T3 is only featured on one track, it's clear that ain't shit changed.

It should be noted beforehand that Black Milk produced almost all of The Preface, and even though it was literally made up of leftover beats the producer simply had lying around, it still sounds as cohesive than it has any reasonable right to.

1. INTRO (THE PREFACE)
Longtime, short-term, and even completely new readers of Max's blog will already know that rap album intros are utterly despised. Longtime hip-hop fans in general will know there is a good reason for this. However, while this “Intro” features a rather bland Black Milk production (relatively speaking - the beat is actually still pretty good by general standards), it pleasantly surprises you when Elzhi makes his first (though short) verse on his solo debut a specific thank-you to fans who spent their sweet time and/or spare change to sit down and listen to the album.

2. THE LEAK (FEAT AYAH)
A much more engaging Black Milk production, this song is the proper introduction to Elzhi's album, and its whole concept actively acknowledges the virtual certainty that his album would illicitly appear (read: leak) on the Internet prior to actually being released in stores. El's words are satisfyingly complex and visual, succinctly explaining his whole background and mentality up to the point of the album's release and rather accurately proclaiming that “This is everything I am, am / crammed, jammed, in two verses.”

3. GUESSING GAME
A stated theme of this album was that Elzhi would be toying around with his abilities, exploring what types of songs he could write, and “Guessing Game” is the first of several high-concept songs that are also very original in their execution. The beat is, like the last one, a catchy and nicely-rhythmic concoction by Black Milk, and sounds different enough not to feel like a retread. Elzhi's aim on the record is to end lines one way, then kick off the next line with a term that changes the meaning of the last line, which is actually conducive to some very clever wordplay. It helps that the chorus/bridge combination is a clever, concise and repeated reminder of the “rules” to this guessing game.

4. MOTOWN 25 (FEAT ROYCE DA 5'9”)
Back in 2007, Black Milk reported that Royce and Elzhi would be recording a collaborative album with beats from himself; this was before Slaughterhouse began eating up Royce's time, so this song may be the closest we ever get to that record. It's a pretty good one, featuring the theme of Milk production centered around a recurring vocal sample, but the beat frequently alternates between this and an intriguing layered horn combination to keep things fresh. Although I'm a big fan of the artist-also-known-as-Nickel Nine (and I do feel that he drops a commendable performance here) El completely - and rightfully - outshines his guest. 5'9” even takes a quick moment to apologize for “sounding lazy,” having apparently smoked a bunch of weed beforehand.

5. BRAG SWAG
Over a subtly smooth beat, Elzhi takes time out to execute the traditional braggadocio-song incredibly well, while avoiding the “nameless sucker MCs” cliché. The scratches on the chorus (by DJ Dez) are a little amateur, but the star's flow and wordplay, and the beat, more than easily make up for it.

6. COLORS
Reverting to the bouncy-catchy beat with a breakdown interval, Elzhi proceeds to pull out a GZA-esque concept execution by naming colors in his lines on the pretext of teaching kids a color scheme, with some improvised kid-voices naming each color. The chorus has a nice flow, with Elzhi breaking down colors and then again in reverse order; the end features an amusing little skit where the kids realize all they really learned was that Elzhi is “the shit.”

7. FIRE (REMIX) (FEAT BLACK MILK, GUILTY SIMPSON, FATT FATHER, DANNY BROWN, FAT RAY)
Why would you have two weed-carriers with “fat” in their names on a single track? Are they like Big Pun fat, or are rest of these guys just bulimia skinny? This is the only track where the rhymes are so-so, although the guests at least have some personality on the mic; they just serve to underscore how much more impressive Elzhi is. The beat is also quite pleasant.

8. D.E.M.O.N.S.
Prominently displaying a haunting beat with some fitting wood block percussion, this song is made more creepy by the fact that it's 1:30 AM and I just watched Paranormal Activity before writing this review. (The movie made me nauseous, thanks to the handheld camera work, but I'll co-sign on the creepy factor, as some of it is quite effective.) The second verse is also one of my favorite lyrical performances on the album (or just in general) as Elzhi effortlessly breaks down the letters of the title into several different acronyms. It's also pretty sweet that he's also spitting about social awareness. There follows a nice skit sampling one of my favorite Led Zeppelin tracks, “No Quarter,” with a creepy echo effect while Elzhi threatens the lives of his cheating woman and her lover.

9. SAVE YA (FEAT T3)
Interestingly, the next song in the sequence is this decidedly lighthearted track about the golddigger(s) he's had to deal with. One of the two tracks not done by Black Milk, this is produced by T3, effectively making it a full-on Slum Village song. T3 comes through and at least proves he's better than the guys from two tracks ago.

10. YEAH. (FEAT PHAT KAT)
I've never been much of a fan of Phat Kat, but he does hold his own here, with his delivery if nothing else. The beat is pretty standard Black Milk fare, which hasn't failed us so far, and Elzhi's lyrics are still on-point.

11. TRANSITIONAL JOINT
An even-more-lighthearted track keeps momentum up, but hearing another song which is essentially the same as “Save Ya,” except that it's about the opposite type of woman, makes me question how necessary it is. Still, my understanding is there's an audience for this sort of thing; plus, the running theme of quality music and lyrics makes it hard to hate on this song. Also the chorus is pretty catchy.

12. TALKING IN MY SLEEP
After a short, spaced-out singing interlude appended to the previous song comes the track that probably should have come after “D.E.M.O.N.S.” I remember this song along with a few others on here popping up on EuroPass, an overseas tour promotional CD, and this one really jumped out at me then; it was very wise to include this on the album. Stepping back to the haunting beat theme, this one is more dreamy, as befits the subject matter. Elzhi brings forth my other favorite lyrical performance and probably my favorite song on the CD: a very vivid description of the disorientating and disturbing nature of dreams.

13. THE SCIENCE (FEAT FES ROC)
The other non-Black-Milk-produced cut, the aforementioned DJ Dez actually provides a nice and rich beat that sounds worthy of Mobb Deep's Havoc (of olde, not the recent Hidden Files or The Kush Havoc). Fes Roc's performance, just on the intro to the track, is completely forgettable, but the rest of the song is awesome, with some more top-notch flow/wordplay from the star of the show.

14. HANDS UP
Showing some needed logical transitioning between tracks, Elzhi's lamenting of neighborhood violence leads him into more desperately aggressive territory on this cut. Over an effective marching beat that samples the phrases “hands up” and “freeze”, he lays down a blow-by-blow of an attempted store robbery-turned-hostage situation, including a thorough description of the robber's mentality and motivations. This is a track worthy of a Ghostface Killah or Slick Rick remix (or both, perhaps?), if I might say so myself.

15. WHAT I WRITE
Back on the upbeat tip, Elzhi lays out his writing process with some nice vivid examples.

16. GROWING UP (FEAT A.B.)
Utilizing what sounds like a typical rap soul sample to a more interesting, sped-up (but not overly-produced, a la Just Blaze/Kanye West) effect, Elzhi once again goes in explaining his past, mentality, environment and influences, providing a sort of bookend to the album that started with “The Leak,” plus some heartening soul crooning on the hook.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Easily a very good album and one of my personal favorites (could you guess?), the whole concept of The Preface seems to promise more solo records to come, on which there will need to be some expansion of Elzhi's sound, more cohesion between tracks and more of a focus on an overall theme. As its own album it still stands quite well on its own; it provides a nice foundation for the rapper to build on in the future and provides a detailed background check for the listening audience; I can't help but think that if Nas had put out this record, it would be hailed as the second coming of, say, It Was Written.

BUY OR BURN: By all means, buy this. El's solo album is stronger than any Slum Village record I've heard so far (no disrespect to SV fans, but this is my own perspective) and he manages to come original, not sounding like a knockoff of any of the more popular Detroit artists. Plus, some of Black Milk's best music resides on here.

BEST TRACKS: “Guessing Game,” “Colors,” “D.E.M.O.N.S.,” “Talking in My Sleep,” “The Science,” “Hands Up.”

-A.R. Marks

(Be sure to leave your comments below. And if you have something to say about one of your favorite albums, shoot an e-mail to the address on the top right.)

Reader Review: Danger Mouse & Jemini - Ghetto Pop Life (September 9, 2003)

(I've been holding on to these Reader Reviews long enough. I plan on dispersing these randomly in between my sporadic updates, so stay tuned, as there are some interesting choices this time around. Today, Kid Chaos (who has his own review blog, Refuse To Come Wack, that you can visit here ) takes on Danger Mouse & Jemini's Ghetto Pop Life. Enjoy!)

Danger Mouse, who unleashed The Grey Album (the mash-up of Jay-Z's The Black Album and The White Album from The Beatles, which was an immediate critic's darling and a favorite on blogs everywhere) to the masses, has been an indie/underground stalwart for a while now, collaborating with fellow mainstream-recognition deprived artists such as The Rapture, Gorillaz, Beck, Sparklehorse, and MF DOOM (save for his one year run as Gnarls Barkley, a collaboration between him and Cee-Lo that has produced pretty much nothing since their super-mega-funky crossover hit "Crazy"). Accordingly, it only makes sense that what ended up being Danger Mouse's debut album, Ghetto Pop Life, should be a collaboration with another artist that has apparently been paying dues for roughly, I don't know...forever?

Rapper Jemini the Gifted One, of zero fame, has apparently been in the game since 1995, when he recorded an EP called Scars and Pain, which that helped him in no way to break out into the public eye. I can't say I really blame the man, though: if you consider how hard it was to break into the rap industry back in the 1990s compared to now, it's no wonder that he'd wait until 2003's Ghetto Pop Life to attempt a comeback.

One last thing I wanted to note: in staying consistent with his name (for which I applaud him), Jemini switches back and forth between a higher pitched voice and a lower pitched voice throughout the album. While this whole concept of being two different rappers is extremely played out by now, it wasn't necessarily so when he first came up with it, so don't furrow your little brow as you read along.

Onward.

1. BORN-A-MC
Grammatical errors aside, Danger Mouse & Jemini decide to bypass the mandatory hip hop intro track (at least until the next track) and give us a little taste of what is to come. Although Jemini only drops one verse, it sounds promising, even if his claim that "lyrically, musically, and spiritually this album is all you'll ever need" is a tad bit pretentious (although in somewhat of a good way - more akin to Big Daddy Kane boasting than KRS-One saying he's going to start his own religion of hip hop). Danger Mouse's production is slightly eerie but enticing in how stark the contrast is between the hard hitting drums and the rising and falling strings.

2. GHETTO POP LIFE INTRO
To put it simply, this is just ridiculous and I love it. For all the Chappelle's Show fans out there: does anyone remember the sketch where he writes down ridiculous things to say but makes them sound pious simply by having an opera singer perform them? Apparently Danger Mouse and Jemini had the idea first (maybe not so much, since Chappelle's Show made its debut in January of 2003), as hearing what sounds like a church choir singing that they "have bullets in the clip" and are "giving bitches good dick" is downright hilarious. What makes this even better is the way in which it doesn't overstay its welcome and immaculately fades into...

3. GHETTO POP LIFE
Danger Mouse crafts an instrumental that is fucking fantastic, incorporating the chorus from the last interlude, and Jemini rips shit accordingly. If you read this far expecting an indie-sounding release (he could mean so many things by that loaded statement), than this song will throw you for a loop. In fact, Jemini is at times blatantly mainstream with his performance, but still manages to tear shit up. I don't think I can tell you how pleasantly surprised I was by this; you're just gonna have to hear it for yourself.

4. OMEGA SUPREME
Although this beat is solid (nothing to write home about), Jemini takes its mother out for a nice seafood dinner, sleeps with her, and never calls her again. Included in this package is one of my favorite one-liners of all time: Jemini's claim that his problem is that he "never learned to lie for shit" and sometimes he "gets sperm in [his] eye because [he's] on [his] own dick", which is downright hilarious. The switch to what sounds like a live freestyle over a simple drum loop at the end of this track is also endearing to any hip hop head worth his mettle.

5. WHAT U SITTIN ON? (FEAT THA LIKS)
Well, I didn't say this album was perfect. It may just be me, but this beat's repetitiveness has a tendency to get grating very quickly, and Tha Alkaholiks don't do anything to right this sinking ship. (Which is uncharacteristic of them.)

6. THE ONLY ONE
Danger Mouse does his best Kanye West impression (minus the narcissism) (well, then it isn't a Kanye impression, is it?), unleashing the horns and chipmunk soul singing, and Jemini continues to rap about nothing in particular besides the fact that he is better than you at rapping, and yet, somehow, this act has not gotten old yet. In fact, this sounds awesome. Forgive me for pulling out my soapbox, but couldn't hip hop really use some more of this? It's really not that hard an adjustment to make: just start talking about why you're great and other sucka MC's are terrible instead of sounding like one of the spoiled brats on MTV's My Super Sweet 16. I once saw a video on YouTube of (DipSet's) Juelz Santana bragging about a purse he has. (It's called a satchel.) Just thought you should know.

7. TAKE CARE OF BUSINESS (FEAT J-ZONE)
Apparently no one will take my advice ever: J-Zone appears on here to brag about money and girls (which is apparently his specialty, according to Max's previous write-ups) (to be fair, most of the time he does it well, even though he claims to not have either) alongside Jemini, but given the subject matter this isn't all that bad. I will admit that the scratching helps. Now there's something you don't really hear anymore on hip hop albums, isn't it?

8. THAT BROOKLYN SHIT
I don't know if I can stress enough how awesome Danger Mouse's production on here has been. For anyone whose friends don't believe that indie hip hop can ever succeed in maintaining a balance between production and lyricism, might I suggest this album? This somehow manages to sound both aggressive and mysterious, like a hip hop V for Vendetta.

9. YOO-HOO!
While the dialogue sample here is completely ridiculous, Jemini tries his take on the female/club song, and this song struggles accordingly. Have I heard worse female/club songs? Yes. Does this hold up when compared to the rest of this album thus far? Nope. However, I am completely averse to rap songs aimed at a female audience, so I'll take this time to acknowledge my bias.

10. COPY CATS (FEAT PRINCE PO)
The hook here is fucking inane, and this is the first production on here that fails to impress. Forget waiting till Prince Po comes in: you can just skip this one almost right away.

11. DON'T DO DRUGS
While Danger Mouse's instrumental is awesomely eclectic, and Jemini's potshot at Whitney Houston and Bobby Brown in the style of Audio Two's “Top Billin'” is hilarious, this song's subject matter, which you can probably guess from the title, was ill-advised. (Especially since one would need to be under the influence of something to actually sit through this track.) Fortunately, the potshot occurs early enough for you to skip the track afterward, without damaging any brain cells.

12. MEDIEVAL (FEAT THAE PHARCYDE)
Now this is the type of song I guarantee everyone was expecting when I referred to Ghetto Pop Life as an indie rap album. Fortunately, Jemini showcases some versatility here. Danger Mouse flips a piece that is, well, medieval-sounding into a beat, and Jemini and The Pharcyde rhyme like they wrote down every connotation that comes to mind when thinking about the Dark Ages and somehow made them rhyme...in a good way.

13. BUSH BOYS
Not only does this attack on the Bush administration sound dated, it also sounds pretty shitty - kind of like your average Immortal Technique song. And yes, I did just write that. Political underground hip hop fans, suck on it. Next. (Please save your comments for the end of the review, you two.)

14. HERE WE GO AGAIN
Minus the part about the Bush administration, you can pretty much take my last comment and apply it here, except this one features such incredible glimmers of insight as "Sisters want love, brothers want sex/industrial prison complex". Nice one, Plato. Next.

15. I'M A DOOMEE (LOVE LETTER)
Please remember that I have already stated that I have a deep aversion to the female song. That said, this song sounds misogynistic in addition to boring and unnecessary. And there you have it.

16. KNUCKLE SANDWICH
It seems that the last song exists just so that it could blend perfectly into this song. Jemini finally decides to take a step back from the topical stuff he went after the last few songs (thank God), and ends with a single verse that probably would sound much more in place on the first half of this album. This was a pretty decent way to end the album.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Whether it is due to his supposed split hip hop personalities or not, Ghetto Pop Life is a true Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde story. The first half is downright incredible, as Jemini converts his satire of mainstream rap into his very own take on it. When he decides to spit about topical subject matter, on the second half, however, the album suffers, and the topics he chooses are ill-advised at best.

BUY OR BURN? As good as the first half of this album is, I can't recommend a buy, as the second half of this album really does fall off that much. The eight tracks and the intro on here that do sound good, however, are phenomenal, and, as such, this deserves your time. Burn this, clear the trash, and listen to Jemini rip shit over some amazing Danger Mouse production.

BEST TRACKS: “Ghetto Pop Life”; “Omega Supreme”; “The Only One”; “The Brooklyn Shit”; “Knuckle Sandwich”

-Kid Chaos

(Questions? Comments? Concerns? Still pissed about that Immortal Technique critique? Leave your comments for Kid Chaos below.)

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.