2010: Hip Hop Rewind…errwawawrrarara (That’s how a rewind might sound)
It’s been a fantastic year of music. Well, as long as artists put albums out, there’s something to talk about.
So let’s recap. I’m at liberty here, because you probably won’t read this whole thing.
Best Debut Album:
Janelle Monae: ArchAndroid—Sure, she’s released some EPs before, and this was another “suite” in her ArchAndroid series. Her first studio album is nothing short of breathtaking. An homage and upstaging of Prince and Michael Jackson, Monae’s sophisticated, often advanced performances make her the most intriguing and gifted artist we’ve seen this year. She doesn’t sing, she performs. Her voice and passion indicate the most beauty we’ve seen from an album in a long time. She’ll make you want to pitch those Lady GaGa albums.
Best Collaboration:
Nas and Damien Marley: “Distant Relatives”—Iconic music that ties Queens and Africa together as one, and shows us how the rest of the world is calling too. From the first song, we feel like Nas and Jr. Gong are locked in arms in the recording studio, smiling as their chemistry and friendship is laced into “As We Enter.”
Best Album You Didn’t Listen To:
Freeway and Jake One: “The Stimulus Package”—The Rhymesayers Boys got together and gave back to the people. Freeway begs for our trust in the beginning, and throws us lines from another decade as the beats make a drum machine look like child’s play. Full of soul, grace, and style, Freeway’s performance is truly a gem in hip hop. His writing is decadent; even when he’s not rhyming, he’s in perfect harmony, allowing him to get his way out of any melodic pickles. He sold me on “Microphone Killa” when he starts the song out by asking “where ya hands?” in his busted electric guitar voice.
Best Album You Didn’t Listen To, Runner Up:
Tha Dogg Pound: 100 Wayz
Named after that sappy little “find 100 ways” song that usually plays at Supermarkets, this album from rap veterans Daz Dillinger and Kurupt come back with some west coastness that’s otherwise been replaced. It didn’t chart, it didnt’ sell, but damn it’s fun. Btw, let the guns on the cover fool you.
Best Mediocre Album
Eminem: “Recovery”— Average at best. Em sounded poppy and pissy at the same time. With lines like “put my dick in a circle, but i’m not fucking around” and “baby, let you me introduce you to my power tool, you know the fucking drill”, it was just difficult to place it with his other work. Sure, it’s got good songs, but it really seemed contrived. “Not Afraid” is the new anthem for SWF across the globe, and a stadium song for years to come. Sometimes, we just have to realize “welp, it was what it was.”
Worst Album Of The Year
Mike Posner—“31 Minutes to Takeoff”—The more I bash him, the more I piss off good looking women. I’m ok with that. This dry, drunk piece doesn’t offer one chorus. I still have no idea how he made it. J Records, what were you doing with this?!? Somewhere, I can hear this album playing in a 21 year old sorority girl’s room.
Most Overrated Album of the Year:
Drake—“Thank Me Later”—For what? A blend of cutesy pop beats and an otherwise star studded cast? When you pump enough money into something, this is what you get; a very expensive sounding album with songs that can chart. We all love him, right? Occasionally impressive and wholly underwhelming. Somewhere, I can hear this album playing in a 21 year old sorority girl’s…
Best Rap Performance in a Song: Nas, Distant Relatives, “Strong Will Continue”
If you’ll be so kind, listen to this song.
And listen to it. starting at the 4:50 mark. Thanks
Worst Rap Verse in a Song: Diddy, Last Train To Paris, “Looking for Love”
She’s got me higher in this mother fucker
She’s got me flying in this mother fucker
Ready to die up in this mother fucker
Got damn, she badder than a mother fucker.
Ow. It’s even too slow to be considered twaddle. This lackadaisical opening verse to an otherwise charming song is quite frankly horrendous. If it’s any indication, Diddy had to have set the record for most times using “motherfucker” in an album.
Song of the Year I just can’t comprehend: Eminem feat. Rihanna, “Love the Way You Lie”
I don’t get it. I don’t get it. I don’t get it. He’s beating her up, but she’s singing instead of getting help? Eminem’s pissed about something? Again? Damnit Rihanna!
That said, there are countless examples of Rihanna taking hooks and killing them. Listen to “Umbrella”, “All of The Lights,” “Run This Town,”…etc. So what gingered your beer about this particular masterpiece, mainstream Hot 100 listeners?
Oh. It’s the part where he says:
/Now you get to watch her leave/
/Out the window/
/Guess that’s why they call it window pane/
Now, if that isn’t lyrical heaven, I don’t know what is.
The Real Song of the Year: “Monster”—Kanye West (Feat. Rick Ross, Jay-Z, Nicki Minaj, & Bon Iver)
A perfectly tantalizing little beat will take you far. A sure shot collabo hit with some of your friends helps too. It’s not a song. It’s a piece. The one that could change a musical.
Best Song Of the Year, Honorable Mention, Big Boi (Feat. Cutty)—“Shutterbug”
As if it were fired out of a cannon. A pulsating punch that daringly challenges the foundation of Hip Hop’s most coveted acts. Big Boi performs with what sounds like 15 collegiate marching bands behind him. His flow effortlessly timed to a machine gun; the true definition of spitting. Why so good? Well, if you take away the menacing sounds behind him, Big Boi could rap this a cappella and it would be just as inviting (I listened to it sans beats, you should too.)
Best Album Cover Of the Year: Tie: N.E.R.D. “Nothing”, Freeway and Jake One, The “Stimulus Package”, Robert Randolph and The Family Band, “We Walk This Road”
Any of these should make you want to listen. Can you judge a book by its cover? You can slightly judge an album by its.
When Robert Randolph releases an album, I always feel like he’s coming back to save music from the hands of people like Gaga and Katy (clothes?) Perry. He can kill you with a steel guitar.
Worst Album Cover Of The Year: Ludacris, “Battle of The Sexes”
The album was just as pathetic and lazy as this cover. That means I get to make a corny joke:
“This album cover is so bad, Ludacris wanted to “shake, shake, shake his cover-maker!”
He had it coming.
TC, EC’s “Acting like you’re not reading this, best albums of the year.”
10. Freeway and Jake One—The Stimulus Package
9. N.E.R.D.—Nothing
8. Kid Cudi: Man on The Man II: The Legend of Mr. Rager—Dare say, better than his first. Or strangely equal in quality. As if Weezer became grungier and swung into hip hop, it would look like this.
7. Diddy/Dirty Money—Last Train To Paris—He gets the points for just not screwing it up too much.
6. Rick Ross—Teflon Don
5. John Legend and The Roots—Wake Up!
4. Cee-Lo Green—The LadyKiller
3. Janelle Monae—ArchAndroid
2. Big Boi—Sir Lucious Leftfoot: The Legend of Chico Dusty
Album of the Year:
1. Kanye West—My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy-A masterful blend of imagery and preciseness, the embattled rapper moves into the ranks of symphonist. It’s a poised piece sans vagueness and loaded with lurid vignettes of a more sophisticated time in music. West isn’t the new King of Pop, as he once proclaimed, rather, he’s solidly ensconced as a viable substitute in the meantime. West is producer heavy here, often-time playing second fiddle to myriad guests he brings on board. No guest is too small, no part too overpowering. He’s got the alternative followers paying equal attention to him now (he did before this album, anyway). Nonetheless, this is what great albums should be. He’s not the same man who once told us /but they can’t cop cars without seein cop cars/ in Late Registration.
College Dropout. Kanye the rookie of the year. Late Registration. Kanye the veteran. Graduation. Kanye the untouchable. 808’s and Heartbreak. Kanye the confused. My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. Kanye the mortally immortal.
Put the “ew” back in NBA Preview.
I did this because it’s the most anticipated NBA season…EVER. So let’s go, and by the way, this took all day to write. So many teams look great…LOOK great. But then, those moments of “come on, they’re gonna be bad” set in, and I realize who will make the cut.
We’ll start with the worst.
30. Toronto Raptors (18-64): You don’t lose Chris Bosh and Hedo Turkoglu and expect to make the playoffs. Reggie Evans could be their new starter. Who? I have no idea. They added a mere Leandro Barbosa. He’s a speedy player that came off his worst year…last year. Jay Triano is a very good coach (Assistant for USA basketball team) but how good can this team be? Bryan Colangelo knows they’re in transition aka “we stink, let’s see if these guys work out.” They won’t work out. And if Reggie Evans isn’t cutting it, they can sub Amir Johnson in…yeah.
29. New Jersey Nets (24-58): They should be happy they’re not the worst of the worst this year. They should be happy they’ll win more than 12 games this year, in fact, 2 times that amount. But that’s it. You don’t add a grocery cart full of players in hopes that one is good, when are all above-average/need some work. Troy Murphy will be solid, Anthony Morrow has the potential to be a Ben Gordon, whatever that means, but Travis Outlaw should have never been so coveted by this team. Who cares? They could surprise some people; Devin Harris is the “best point guard that you’re not watching.” He was Rondo before Rondo. Brook Lopez is All Star material. They’ll figure something out…soon…maybe.
28. Philadelphia 76ers (28-54): They’re a painful bunch. Doug Collins is a good coach but he himself is hampered by health problems (concussion in May). They gave up Samuel Dalembert to the Kings for a more offensive Center in Spencer Hawes. Hawes was so inconsistent last year in Sacramento, that he got benched. Couple that with journeymen Andres Nocioni and Jason Kapono, and that’s how Flipadelphia spent the offseason. But, Evan Turner will do good things, Andre Iguodala is one of the best all around players in the league, and Jrue Holiday will get huge chances to step up. And Elton Brand will have a stellar season…on the disabled list. If they look decent, be surprised, if they don’t, expect some team to bite at Iguodala before the trade deadline.
27. Minnesota Timberlwolves (30-52): And Gm David Kahn will wonder where it all went wrong again. His decisions in the front office make news, but for the wrong reasons. In an NBA Summer League interview with Chris Webber, Webber asks what Kahn saw in Darko Milicic, the former first round bust, who he signed to a 3 year/$20 Million Dollar deal. Kahn couldn’t give solid answers/proof, so he just rambled about the potential Darko has, and how he’d been a victim on every other team who gave him a shot. He followed that up by telling Chris Webber “when you came into the league, you needed time to develop.” Webber laughed and got pissed at that remark. Since, after all, he averaged 17 points/game in his rookie season, and Darko did not. Kahn has a “candy dish” stockpile of forwards. Brewer, Beasley, Love, Tolliver, etc. He’s trying. Beasley will get another chance here to shine without the Dwade pressure. Jonny Flynn and Wayne Ellington are both great young players. But Kahn admitted they won’t go after a championship this year. Maybe next year when Ricky Rubio comes in…or Chris Webber.
26. Indiana Pacers (33-49): I say this simply, can someone tell me who is scoring on this team? T.J Ford can do a little. Darren Collison is nice. But, Danny Granger needs more help. He’s one of the best players in the league, on a team that’s gone nowhere. Dunleavy, McRoberts, Hibbert, and Hansbrough to the rescue? All big men? And an aging James Posey. They’re lucky Granger will win them 33 games.
25. Golden State Warriors (34-48): This team NEVER should have let Baron Davis get away. EVER. It’s their bambino curse. They’re the most confusing team in the NBA. They produce more talent than any other team, then squander it all on trades for picks, then draft more great players, then get rid of them, etc. etc. Well, Don Nelson did that. He’s gone. Keith Smart takes over a team that has no bite. Monta Ellis, David Lee, and Steph Curry. Every other player on this team is average at best. This is no magical big 3. It’s a great start, and if these young guys can play for a long time on this team, they will put it together, but they’re in disarray right now. This team is the most annually inconsistent with their starting 5…and their bench 7.
24. Washington Wizards (36-46): This team is on a path to get better. Flip Saunders can get a team to the playoffs. Not the finals, but the playoffs. At times, they will look competitive this year. They had a good offseason; that John Wall dude, Kirk Heinrich, Yi Jianlian, the return of Josh Howard and Al Thornton…that’s great talent. Javale McGee, in a Summer League dominated by idiot guards shooting 3’s at will, was flat out the best big man to watch. He will have a breakout year. Gilbert Arenas is good for something, I don’t know what yet. Not earning his huge contract, I suppose. But this team will look very good sometimes.
23. Los Angeles Clippers (37-42): Gordon, Bledsoe, Gomes, Griffin, Farouq, Kaman, Jordan, Foye, and a mediocre Baron Davis. Surprise team of the league. If Blake Griffin is healthy, he’s “rookie” of the year. Vinny Del Negro took two VERY young Bulls teams into the playoffs, and made them look tough both times. He’s a very good coach. For once, they look respectable.
22. Memphis Grizzlies (39-43): Somehow, they quietly went 40-42 last year. So they’ll go forward this year? No. Two draft picks and Tony Allen in the offseason does not equal progress. Rudy Gay and O.J. Mayo are the most underrated duo in the NBA. But Mike Conley needs to average more than 10 points/game. He needs to learn to shoot, like all point guards in today’s NBA. Zach Randolph and Marc Gasol are a surprisingly good front court, but this team is stuck in a mediocre pattern. With a .500 record at the trade deadline, and a Mike Conley contract year, expect them to be part of a 3 way trade at the deadline.
21. Denver Nuggets (40-42): Disarray. Complete. Like a couple who’s considering a breakup, but they act OK in public. It’s surreal to see Melo in the blue and gold still. They added veteran Al Harrington, who makes any team much better. If he could play 82 games with Anthony, they’ll go to the playoffs. But it doesn’t look so. They added no one else to this team, didn’t need to at this rate. But, if they were smart, they’d pull the trigger on Melo to NY for Danilo Gallinari and picks. Danilo is no Melo, but, he’s a suitable player during the rebuild. This is the nicest I’ve been on my list. I sometimes think with all this smoke around the team, they’ll be the surprise worst of the year.
20. San Antonio Spurs (40-42): They’ll be in the playoff hunt till March. But the former champs are getting older, not better. It’s sad to watch Duncan’s lethargy. Manu is 33, Richard Jefferson is 30, and Tony Parker is…well, an OLD 28. He gets hurt all the time. In fact, between Duncan, Manu, and Parker, they all get hurt, and never play together at the same time. Richard Jefferson is out for a comeback year after last year’s slump. Tiago Splitter and Dejuan Blair will help the front court, but this team seriously needs some youth. Count them out…for now.
19. Cleveland Cavaliers (40-42): Cleveland optimists are in denial. After heartbreakingly losing #23/#6, Dan Gilbert went to the grocery store for free agents. On his comic sans typed grocery list, he picked up bread, lettuce, tomato, pickles, onions, and mayonnaise. He didn’t get any meat for the sandwich. That’s what’s missing, this team has no leader, no center, no “nucleus” to be cliche. How can fans get excited about the additions of Ramon Sessions, Ryan Hollins, Joey Graham, and Christian Eyenga? Or as I call them, “who, who, who, and who?” Alright, so they have 80% of the players still around from last year. Guys who were role players last year but will have great seasons; Jamario Moon is extremely talented, as is J.J. Hickson, who beat out Antawn Jamison for the starting role. Then’s there Mo Williams, Anderson “Guts” Varejao, Anthony Parker and Daniel “Booby” Gibson, who needs to, for the last time, step up. If they tank, they’ll trade any/all of these guys if they can. Let’s hope Byron Scott is as good as I think he is.
18. Charlotte Bobcats (40-42): They’re getting the benefit of the doubt, because, frankly, on paper, they look terrible. Nazr Mohammed starts at center? But then there’s Gerald Wallace, who championship teams wish they could have. And Stephen Jackson, and Tyrus Thomas. But these young guards (Augustin and Gerald Henderson) need to step up. Not a bad coach, too. Stephen Jackson is already hurt though. Again.
17. Sacramento Kings (41-41): WHAT?!? My hopes are ridiculously high for this team. But that said, this young….young…YOUNG team should have never won 25 games last year, or been .500 after the first 32 games. Tyreke Evans is destined to be a star. The Rookie of the Year last year beat out Brandon Jennings. How did this guy beat out the dude who dropped 55 points in his rookie year? Simple. Tyreke was consistently better all year. All year. He gave this team 20 points every night. And will give them much more this year, if his outside shot is as good as he claims. They have great young talent. Omri Casspi is tough and talented, and will only get better with more playing time. Jason Thompson wants to be the best center in the league. Carl Landry isn’t too bad (rebound dude), Samuel Dalembert blocks everything, and Beno Udrih is quietly a good point guard. DeMarcus Cousins will play hard for minutes too. And their coach, Paul Westphal, is a former NBA Finals Runner Up Coach. The sleeper team of the west, and, in years to come, they will make the Lakers look silly.
16. Detroit Pistons (43-39): They barely make the playoffs. Their Coach, John Kuester, was Cleveland’s offensive coach in ‘08-‘09, when they were shocked by the Magic in the ECFs. As I recall, offense didn’t lose those games…the lack of a body to cover Dwight Howard did. In fact, those games were still close on offense…thanks to him. If his team stays healthy, they will be contending this year. The old dudes…Rip, Prince, Ben Wallace. And the solid likes of Charlie Villanueva, Ben Gordon, Will Bynum, and Rodney Stuckey, this team is much better than people think. I like Jonas Jerebko too. And Austin Daye, the 6”10 Small Forward who can shoot. Look out. Tracy McGrady is on the team too. If that knee is fine, then what’s the problem?
15. Atlanta Hawks (44-38): Still on the playoff part of the list. They’ll drop off this year, quite frankly. They fired coach Mike Woodson last year after an Orlando Magic thrashing in the playoffs. But, really, the Hawks will never make waves since the East is so strong now. The Heat and Magic will stop them every year. And they’re only getting older. Mike Bibby and Joe Johnson are both aging. Josh Smith still hasn’t learned to be an elite player (I get it, you don’t shoot, but, stop trying or learn), and Marvin Williams and Al Horford, though good (Horford is All Star quality) are stoppable. In essence, they’re a non-intimidating team.
14. Milwaukee Bucks (45-37): I’m suspect to think this team will be so-so. I get it, Brandon Jennings is good. But, if he can make plays, and quit missing so many shots, he’d be much better. Michael Redd has the knee of an 80 year old man. He’s done. Andrew Bogut needs to play 70+ games this season for them to really be serious about contending. Corey Maggette is always a solid player, and Chris Douglas-Roberts can be lights out. John Salmons is a great role player too. They could make noise in the East. But, Jennings will have to be Rondo-like to pick this team up in the playoffs.
13. New Orleans Hornets (47-35): Disaster when CP3 plays only 45 games. But they made the “best” move of the offseason. They Shipped Darren Collison out, and brought in Trevor Ariza. This is great because Ariza had to be a superstar last year on a tattered Houston team that lost Ron Artest and Yao Ming. He put up 14 points a game. He’s a not a superstar, but a fantastic role player. He handles the ball like a point guard, is sensational at getting to the hoop, and defensively, can make big plays happen. He’s the best complement to Chris Paul, and essentially, will do anything to help Paul win. If that’s 10 points a night, but 5 assists and 3 steals, he can do that easily. Remember, Emeka Okafor is the best defensive player in the league, and David West is powerful too. Believe it or not, they’re in ok shape, and Paul should consider staying put.
12. Utah Jazz (48-34): You don’t lose Carlos Boozer and expect to do better. But you do when Carlos Boozer is in Chi-town, has a broken hand, and you have Paul Millsap ready to start. They got Al Jefferson too. Big Al and Kirilenko on the same team is pretty tough to beat; one can rebound, the other does everything else defensively. Deron Williams, Ronnie Price, and the 3 ball threat/defensive force Raja Bell make this team very good. Not championship contenders, but, Jerry Sloan always gets you close.
11. New York Knicks (48-34): Doubters can doubt. And they sure do. But this team is fully Mike D’Antoni proof. Stoudemire, Ray Felton, Gallinari, Turiaf, and Azubuike aka “inside presence, outside presence, emerging star, defensive powerhouse, good shooter.” That’s all good stuff. And, if that doesn’t work, maybe Wilson Chandler, Anthony Randolph, or Roger Mason will. Finally, the Phx. Suns have moved to the Big Apple. And will only get better from here (#15 jersey needs a body in it).
10. Houston Rockets (53-29): Yao Ming is a shadow of himself. Limited to some 24ish minutes per game this season, and about an 85% chance he’ll go down again. Brad Miller is solid relief at center. He’s never been great, but, he’s much better than anything they had last year. Aaron Brooks is a scrappy little guard. Shane Battier is always going to be good. Kevin Martin looked lights out…in the preseason. Luis Scola is ready to turn heads. Chase Budinger has potential. If anything, dumping Ariza for Courtney Lee was stupid. Courtney Lee, 3 years in the league…3 teams he’s played on…yeah. Well, they still look good without Yao, at least more prepared for his absence this year, as they weren’t last year. Their shooters can be lethal
9. Boston Celtics (53-29): I’ll say it, they’re not as good as you think. They won’t be in the Finals. It sickens me to hear people think they’re THAT good this year. I don’t subscribe to depth=Championships in the NBA. It helps. But good players win championships. Great players. Rajon Rondo is a great point guard. If he averages 5 more points a night than he did last year, then we’ll put him in the elite, but, he doesn’t want to shoot on that team. Shouldn’t have to. This is another case of “look amazing on paper.” You can google their roster this year. It’s outright impressive. But it won’t win the championship. I’ll be Mr. Cliche here: they’re too old, too slow, and too fragile. They’ll move a little in the playoffs, but, they cannot repeat that run of a year ago. In fact, put them at under 50 wins in a give or take situation. Ouch, I’m really mean. I’ll admit, this is edited after their opening night win against the Heat, however, that game was a case of “Celtics were good enough, Miami Heat were outright flat.”
8. Dallas Mavericks (54-28): Again, guys, the clock is ticking. Tyson Chandler was a great pick up, and being a leader on that USA team this summer helped him so much. If Jason Kidd, Dirk, Caron Butler, Juan Berea, Haywood, and cricket Shawn Marion stay healthy, expect them to give it another run this year. And Cuban will do what it takes to win. They were NOT supposed to be good last year. Watch Out. But in traditional Dallas fashion, they’re a prime player away from making a Finals run.
7. Chicago Bulls (56-26): Okay, no Boozer for awhile. But, they have Rose, Noah, Gibson, Korver, Brewer, Deng, and an emerging James Johnson. Great offseason. They’ll be fine. Shame on them for ditching Vinny Del Negro after 2 winning season and 2 impressive playoff performances at such young ages. They’ll win without Boozer, they’ve added enough to an already good team.
6. Oklahoma City Thunder (57-25): They deserve hype. Somehow, Scott Brooks knows what kind of team will work around Kevin Durant. The Durant-Westbrook tandem is young, fierce, and hungry. There’s only one concern; they all need to get better, ALL. Eric Maynor had a good rookie year, now they need him to improve. So does Serge Ibaka, hell, Jeff Green has some improving to do. But their occasional lack of talent around #35 scares me. Thabo Sefolosha is uh…well…I really wouldn’t want him on my team. They added Morris Peterson and Daequan Cook. That’s about it. That’s really not much, but, it could be helpful. I’m being nice by saying they’ll win this many games. But Durant was great in the World Championships. He’s just as good as Lebron. Also, did you know the Jeff Green/Durant/Westbrook trio was the highest scoring in the league last year? I know, it’s shocking.
5. Portland Trailblazers (57-25): This team impressed me with every game last year. They had NOTHING. Everyone was hurt. And Brandon Roy was incredible. He willed them to the playoffs. This year, everyone is back, and they added Wesley Matthews. Greg Oden, if his feet don’t break, will be very good this year. With Andre Miller, Batum, Aldridge, Camby, Oden, and Roy, this team just needs to mature, and if they add someone else this year, or get great games from Matthews and Oden, they will move in the playoffs.
4. Phoenix Suns (59-23): It’s alarming to hear Steve Nash said “this team will not make the playoffs.” Wow. He’s talking more about the lack of chemistry, which will improve as the year goes on. But they have too much talent to miss the playoffs. Especially how they seemed average last year, and almost went to the Finals. They added Josh Childress, Hakim Warrick, and Hedo Turkoglu. That all works. Nash will kick it out to Hedo, and all will be right with the world. Channing Frye had a great playoffs, and proved he’s much better than the 11.2 regular season average he had. This is another good Suns team. They’ll survive with no Amar’e. Hell, when he was hurt they were still ok.
3. Los Angeles Lakers (59-23): They’re not the best. Why? Kobe is looking human now. His knee is not ready, and his finger has arthritis like a 75 year old man. No one talks about his injuries, but they are huge deals. What saves them? Steve Blake. Matt Barnes. And, by the way, Shannon Brown is a budding star. He can shine when Kobe is having a bad night. And he will have bad nights this year with his injuries. Don’t be surprised, if the Lakers secure a decent seed by March/April, that Kobe’s minutes go way down. If he gets that rest, he may have some juice. But, I’m saying it, Kobe is not the same. By the way, Ron Artest, shoot better.
2. Orlando Magic (63-19): Dwight Howard will always make this team a winner. Jameer Nelson will play more like his All Star Self. They added the VERY solid Chris Duhon and Quentin Richardson. Did Orlando really need more shooters? Well, they got ‘em. And they’ll help when Vince Carter is having a 2/17 shooting night. Rashard Lewis is only 31. They can still put this together. If they’re cruising by the deadline, they will make a move for someone else who can get them there.
1. Miami Heat (58-24): Notice what I did there? They won’t be the top dogs of the East. But they will be 2nd Seed. Why? They’ve got kinks to work out. They’ll lose games this year. But 24 games isn’t that many losses. This is still a great season. They’re number one here because they’ll fight in the playoffs, and could be unstoppable in the playoffs. They will be cooking by then. They will be a different team in the playoffs. Remember, you don’t have to be best in the regular season to win it all. As long as this team is in the dance, they’ll move forward. But regular season wise, they’ll struggle at times like every team. They could start 28-14, which will shock people. But that’s still pretty good. And they’ll be pretty good this year. Sometimes great, and sometimes they’ll play like they have DWade, Bosh, and LeBron on the same team. But they will have lumps to work out this season. They’ll start slow, and finish strong. Hence the regular season record, but they’re still number one, because of their playoff chances. But still, Joel Anthony and Zydrunas Illgauskas aren’t enough under the hoop. Expect them to lure another big man at the deadline.
Distant Relatives, who aren’t so far apart.
Between Nasir Jones and Damian “Jr. Gong” Marley, there would seem to be two possibilities. The first, being that their chemistry is so harmonic, that they’ll put together a classic piece. The other possibility would be the mystery behind how they managed to meet. And subsequently decided to collaborate.
They came together for a charity album. Famous last words. But they did it in the right fashion. A charity album in the sense that its proceeds go to a “tbd” project in Africa. Possibly for a new school. No doubt, the project, as Nas once said, was done for peace and love in Africa. Both artists referred to themselves as distant relatives because of their ancestry, and certainly, because of their music stylings, quite, and quite, opposite from each other.
There’s a lot of Jr. Gong [Marley] producing the tracks. In fact, Marley did all but three. The three he didn’t make were produced by his brother, Stephen. “As We Enter” is the lead-off. Right away, we’re understanding that Marley has put together eclectic and worldly rhythm, leaving the rest of us, and Nas, to catch up. Nas has to catch up because he’s essentially performing over world music, sounding like his oddest mixtape. There’s obvious juxtaposition, and tug of war. Damian, clearly putting the album in the veins of raggae fusion and ragga, sings and chants. Frankly, it just sounds like his way of rapping. It has harmony and pitch behind it. He’s a wonderful singer, with a voice much fuller than his father’s (no dis). But it’s clear that Jr. Gong is at home with his work.
Nas catches up. Sure, it gets tiring sometimes, because it’s strictly back and forth between the two. Ping Pong if you will. Damian sings, Nas raps. No curve balls. But it seems like they never wanted there to be curveballs. They both know their limitations. It’s an album much simpler than imagined. Though Nas sometimes seems lost in translation. He sounds lyrically casual at times, throwing simple lines between Damian’s more complex prosodies. That’s something to deeply worry about, since, after all, this is still a charity/collabo album. Not to say that Nas phoned it in, not at all, but, he occasionally sounds like he wrote his lines right before he recorded them. This is only a slight detriment, however.
The end result is worthy of praise. Before even listening to this album, I knew it would be good, because of how talented these two men are. Nas’ career is storied, legendary, and infamous, while Damian’s career is promising, radical, and destined because of his roots. “Distant Relatives” is a lesson in eclectic hip hop. It’s very urbane. This is sophisticated work, not strictly limited to the reigns of reggae or hip hop. Damian flat out said he wanted it to be an album people would play in their cars. He certainly gives us the tools to do so.
Their chemistry is undeniable. Nas’ repertoire of acts he’s worked with for 20 years makes him sound like a seasoned veteran. It’s also a fresh step for him, halting another solo album after 2008’s moderately successful “Untitled”. He’s stepped away from modern hip-hop for a minute or two, and rededicated himself to a new cause. Either way, it’s rightly justified. His final flow at the end of “Strong Will Continue” is uplifting and textbook to the work of Nasir Jones. If Damian’s beats at any time in the album sound too soft or methodical, Nas is the one who comes through to pick up the tempo, and take the sound to another level.
And there’s a central message at the heart of every song. I won’t launch into every one of them, but it’s self-explanatory for what the theme is behind each one. “Nah Mean” gives us the most enjoyment. Damian and Nas showcase a verbal attack on oppression, with the most ill beats of their entire 60 minutes. Nas takes it home, chanting “genocide” repeatedly, and gives way for a reprise to end the song. Want to make me a happy man? Reprise your beat at the end. Then I’ll be extremely happy.
Guest appearances abound throughout. There’s a few songs that sound a little stodgy, but with the words “charity album” looming, there’s no doubt that the “something for everyone” clause was in effect. Lest we forget, we’re [hip-hop fans] not quite the target audience for this “peace piece.” There was even some hesitation in reviewing this. Musically, it has its ups and downs. Artistically, it’s mostly just up. The two of them exhibit a chemistry so genuine and underrated in today’s music scene. There’s a heart behind this project. They found a way to prevail sans profanity. They stay hungry. So, with this review, I apologize for any consternation, and am ultimately in awe with what they’ve given us.
Nas and Damian “Jr. Gong” Marley—Distant Relatives—2010
Final rating—8/10
Best: “Nah Mean”
Honorable Mention: “As We Enter”
This Guy.
One thing I don’t doubt about Mike Posner is his talent and potential. I think both are endless. There’s an untroubled vision in his work; a bit of class for the soul fans, beats for the hip hop crowd, and soothing melodies for his adoring fans, what I mean is, he has a lot of male fans, but the women love him too.
I think Pos wants to be hard to classify. His hybridity is what’s fueling his intrigue and popularity. Pop first. First and foremost. No disrespect, most rappers today are doing more pop than hip hop, they just act like they don’t know it (they’re very well aware.)
Posner took off. Bigtime. His two 2009 mixtapes made the 22 year old a college-age sensation, and the single “Cooler than Me” has become an anthem solidly ensconced in the 18-22 year old range. Naturally, all this allure would make most music fans wonder what the deal is.
Quite frankly, I wish I knew. In 37 minutes, I really wanted the short album to finally reach its end. The sound of every track is runny, underwhelming, and an exercise in lacking cohesion. He uses uninteresting lyrics, infantile rhyme schemes, and slams profanity around almost trying to appease the rap crowd. There are countless examples of bad writing in each song. Somewhere in his production, someone on his team should gotten ahold of drums and a driving beat. Both are vague here, and in the world “hip/pop/electro”, lack thereof makes for a rather tepid affair.
He’s like a forlorn college dude who can woo people with a soothing pop voice. Sure, he can sing, and the evidence of autotune and the like is minimal here, but, what he’s singing about belies his ability. We have antiquated lyrics about love lost and lousy women, and wanting to love again, how he will, and all other things that are hip and trendy among 22 year old people. I honestly wouldn’t know.
His lyrics don’t bind or blend, they just run past bridges into half interesting choruses. There’s the problem. Nothing seems catchy or impacting. It all seems depressing and lulling. It’s all trite; we’ve been here before and we’ve heard it done much better. He sounds like a much less effective Robin Thicke/Justin Timberlake, and is inadvertently taking a page out of Chris Brown’s playbook. He eerily stylizes Drake,Trey Songz, and The-Dream, of course, they have much fuller hooks than Mike (yes, I’d rather listen to The-Dream). It’s frustrating that he’s catapulted, and Mr. Hudson has not. We have to keep the word “soul” out of this hybridity as well. Listen to Mike’s album, then mirror it with Musiq Soulchild, Jamie Foxx, Janelle Monae, and John Legend. Those four bring soul to their albums. Posner fails to do so. If it’s there, it has a taste of white trash. Then again, white girls all over the place swoon over Posner, for some puzzling reason.
His tracks are overly methodical. He’s trying to trick us between his choruses and it never works. It’s hard to figure out what he wants in his debut. He’s trying to entertain, but spends so much time lamenting, surrounded by faux techno, that the end result is sullied.
Eminem has too much of a stronghold on the type of realism Posner wants to give us. Asher Roth is even more tolerable. Unfortunately there’s nothing worth taking away here. Everything is quickly forgettable, and this fluff is almost too light to capture its intended audience. Sure, they’ll love it like no other. Hell, his mixtapes garnered the buzz, his EP will bring home some good numbers, but, it’s ultimately questionable. A haggard style that’s been done to death. Sure, bring a few pop beats, and give us flare that spans a few decades, as in, grazes some 80’s and 90’s predecessors. But sometimes, most times, the power of a wonderfully performed chorus is enough to take the audience somewhere. He seems apathetic to that part for all of his tracks. Choruses seem under-hyped, their payoffs never big, and the setup oh so lethargic.
Again, in terms of fame, he’s certainly there. He’s showing us a willingness to try a few new things. But he’s ultimately been jettisoned to a place where others should also be. If The-Dream is the radio killer, Posner must be the radio coma inducer. Ultimately, he’ll be around. And I’ll always be curious about his next move. I’ll admit, I don’t have a solid grasp on his body of work, but I’m still hungry for something more.
Mike Posner—31 Minutes To Takeoff
Final Rating—3/10
Best: “Deja Vu (Feat. Boyz II Men)”
Skip: The rest.
Audio Beauty.
Cash and carry legendary Sagitarri(us) style’s vary
And it’s very necessary get it clearly
Never scary barely worried bright and early
Bald head straight or curly mundane or other worldly
No chain nada jewelry the jackers can’t snatch
The gingerbread the slave masters can’t catch
Blat! Now put your minds on that
Get real or get back quit frontin face facts
The old timers say we’re living in the final days
Gun smoke young folks living any kind of way
Gangster holiday great estates and hideaways
Meanwhile soldiers take it straight through their armor plates
Crash hit the market gates marvels of the modern age
Access is instant and treachery is commonplace
I sense the dangers and I’m not afraid
Because when all is said and done there’s only ONE—Wahid
Verbosity. In essence a word that could be used to describe Dante Terrell Smith. Could be. But it shouldn’t be. To be verbose implies that he’s using more words than needed to explain. Quite the opposite is true.
There are times he just throws adjectives and nouns at us. We’re supposed to know what he’s talking about. Peace. Love. Justice. War. Hate. Greed. What’s incredible is that we know exactly what he’s talking about.The debate centers on whether to call him an MC or a rapper. It should be whether to call him a poet or philosopher.
Extrinsic hip hop. That’s what’s on display. Teaming with Madlib, Mos puts together his first studio album since the under-hyped “True Magic” came out in 2006. There’s a long story behind his falling out with Geffen Records. “The Ecstatic” was released on Downtown’s Label, an independent company. This allowed him to have one of the most successful independent records of all time.
There’s a sense of rejuvenation into this foray. Somewhere, he deluded his vision past his other fine works and proceeded here, a crux between Soul, Afrobeat, Eurodance, Swing, and the broadly defined World music genres. Simply, as many have so bluntly put it, the samples here are straight out of the crate, with most of them being well aged pieces otherwise shelved somewhere in a record library. It’s incredibly difficult to classify this. Mos Def places it all between organized chaos and finely tuned pieces that blend harmonically together. Most of “The Ecstatic” is not comprised of tracks, rather, vignettes that put together the puzzle.
Mos Def isn’t rapping here. He’s painting. A visual picture so strong and crystal clear that listeners can see his lyrics. That’s what’s beautiful about “The Ecstatic”; Mos has created tracks from all parts of the world; Mecca, Israel, Brooklyn, Spain, Harlem, China, Iraq, LA, some kid’s house party, and corporate America. He’s covering all bases, from fearing life, traveling mentally and physically, loving others, treating others, fighting, hating, and making peace. He’s the only one who truly knows what his lyrics mean. I say that to avoid wrongly dissecting them.
Mixed with his delivery and obscurity, many consider Mos Def to be an acquired taste. That’s mostly correct. He’s been described as inebriated and slurry on the mic, both fairly accurate, while also being called dazed and scatterbrained. He sometimes makes up words, usually from syllabi of other root origins. All told, he sounds bumbling in his films as well. But with “The Ecstatic”, his offbeatedness and obtusity are surprisingly mainstream. It’s as if the world of music and art are finally his contemporaries. Yet, there’s something mythical about him. He seems to defy the time period he’s stuck in now, only to better re-emerge in the 60s, 70s, or 1700s and still be an extremely astute body.
He understands the art of performance. His training as an actor has perhaps bettered his ability to perform as a rapper. His emotions are breathtakingly on display for 45 savory minutes. He sings, freestyles, harmonizes, and improvises. There’s a touching moment in “Workman’s Comp” when we’re close to the end of the album. On this track, Mos serves the line:
“Let’s get you an award for that performance, win it in the category for the best boring”
A line that’s so rhythmically in tune that he quickly ends the sentence with a grunt. “Uh.” Because he had room to put it there. It’s just a grunt, but, it’s a phenomenal grunt that says everything about his performance; the music is flowing through him, the words are sifting out of his mouth in a filter that only delivers purity. Sure, it’s just a grunt. But it shows what he’s feeling; the love and candor to quite possibly his finest performance. He revels in being ambiguous. His fans revel in his ambiguity. And are awestruck by the results.
Then there’s the middle song that quietly bridges “The Ecstatic” together. “Life In Marvelous Times” is not a song, but an oeuvre. It’s a metaphorical allusion that documents his childhood. He tells us about Bedford-Stuyvesant, the impecunious Brooklyn neighborhood he grew up in:
The windows on the Ave look like sad eyes
they fix their sharp gaze on you when you pass by
and if you dare to stand, you can see em cry
you can watch em scowl
feel them prowl
while and study every inch about you
fast math measuring what you amount to
And does so in some of the boldest, mind bending analogies ever used in music, wrapping up the track by recounting on the beauty of life. He sings the chorus too, with a hectic, sports chant induced beat behind him that puts “The Ecstatic” into a higher category of hip hop. In 17 tracks, three guests stop by: Slick Rick, his old pal, Talib Kweli, and technically Georgia Anne Muldrow, whose delicate song “Roses” is a sample he duets over her vocals. The rest of the album is pure Dante Smith, no guest list required. It’s a way to have ownership on a work of art. But this is a rare return to a finer time in hip hop when the guest list wasn’t needed to sell albums. And for a brief moment in time again, 2008-2009, Q-Tip and Mos Def quietly assembled their finest works and inadvertently schooled all other hip hop artists, separating themselves as rarities and legends, and seemingly dissipating out of the limelight again, at least temporarily.
And his greatest work so far is history. It’s almost fail safe. Sure, there are many ways this album could have been ill received. Mainstream crowds know him more for his acting than his music today. His 2004 masterpiece, “The New Danger”, was met with mixed reviews by the critics, citing its displacency hurt its overall goals. Though he genre switched there, and often, in a 74 minute mission. Here, he switches genre by samples mostly, sticking more in the hip hop world. And it’s only 45 minutes. That’s really the only complaint; one wonders what it might be like if it had 10-15 more minutes. But less is more, they sometimes say, and he bounces tracks so often that he’s good at fooling us about its brevity.
The tracks bleed through to the next. He takes us though dancing in the rain to bouncing through the city instantly. He disregards distractions, and takes fair and just jabs at society’s detriments. He’s simply a gift to the music world. An underrated gift. The album earned him a grammy nomination this past year, one that he lost to Eminem’s “Relapse”. That album is another story. That album had Dr. Dre behind it. That album had grammy implication all over it. Perhaps it’s better that Mos and Q-Tip both lost that year at the Grammys. The committee was too busy trying to figure out exactly what Mr. Smith is comprised of. That’s a thought pattern that cannot be completed.
Mos Def—The Ecstatic—2009
Final Rating—10/10
Best: “Life In Marvelous Times”
“I’m not a star.”
If anything, Rick Ross has been mostly self proclaimed for his entire rap career. He’s been a moderately successful mainstream rapper, but, his three previous CDs all failed to sell 1,000,000 copies in the U.S. 2008’s “Trilla” sold over 700,000 in the U.S., with the infamous song “The Boss” helping Ross reach Gold on that album.
Also, since 2006, he’s put out four albums, including a new album in 2008, 2009, and 2010, respectively. Hard working man, for sure, but, one has to wonder if overkill may be the word here.
In comes “Teflon Don”, a self proclaimed title Ross gave himself (a title 50 Cent has used on numerous occasions). With yet another album thrown at us, one would say the expectations here are moderately low, however, the early hype, singles, and the list of stars appearing with Ross here quickly turned it into an album that should have high potential.
The first track, “I’m Not a Star”, gives way to a less than impressive opening, something more typical and expected from Ross. Yet, by the time we get to “Free Mason” on track two, Ross starts to put in some good work. The track is rich and hopeful, with powerful words from Ross and a John Legend hook that could melt ears. Of course, Jay-Z takes a verse, and offers us the funniest/dumbest line of the year:
“I said that I’m amazing…not that I’m a mason.”
It’s just giggleworthy. He really had to clear that up? In such a sloppy way? Ok dude. Other than that, this track has Ross at his best, something most people were unaware they’d ever see. “Free Mason” is a great track where he tries to take the album to a higher place, mostly achieving.
And there’s mostly solid work scattered throughout. Of course, the obvious problem is the same Ross faced in 2009’s “Deeper than Rap,” which, if that was “Deeper than Rap”, he should just stick to regular rap.
In this album and his one last year, Ross relies heavily on an all star cast to help take his albums to a better place. It’s a growing trend that most rappers are doing today, not that it’s unwelcome, but, if I want to hear another artist, I’ll listen to their album, not yours, Rick. In fact, with so many stars appearing on 11 tracks, it’s hard for Ross to give us a solid performance, often being purposely upstaged by everyone else. Ross seems afraid to chime in on most choruses, often letting someone with more talent taking them on for him.
By the way, In 11 tracks, the guest list includes:
Jay Z, John Legend, Cee-Lo Green, T.I., Jadakiss, Erykah Badu, Kanye West, Ne-Yo, Trey Songz, Diddy, Gucci Mane, Styles P, Drake, Chrisette Michelle, and Raphael Saadiq (Who he wastes at the end). Most of these people, along with Ross, do not like 50 Cent. Hmm.
Four of his tracks have two featured guests, one having three. Between all that star power, it’s hard for Ross to show us his chops. When he does, it’s moderately impressive, but, it’s so easy to feel like this is someone else’s album since he’s on cruise control through most of it.
But the guests save him. As does the producing. J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League always does stellar work, and their work here on “Maybach Music II” and “Aston Martin Music” make for some memorable pieces.
When Ross does rap, he’s quite the visionary, recounting on hardships and struggles over drugs and women. Though both are present, the message has more depth and dimension, and a better mental picture. This really is the album that is “Deeper Than Rap”, if he was going to call anything that.
Of course, Ross has obvious problems with his flows, as always. He often relies on rhyming the second to last word of each line, using the exact same word twice at the end of lines, for example:
every time we fuck our souls take a hold of me
I dig it like pokey, that pussy be controlling me.
Again, it’s the laziest thing he does. It’s more absent here, however, it’s writing that’s not getting us anywhere. And tracks 8 and 9, “MC Hammer” and “Blowin Money Fast” are too identical to differentiate and sound like typical Ross tracks. Other than that, no more Rick criticism on this end.
What’s important is that he has memorable tracks here, including “Live Fast, Die Young,” “No. 1,” “Super High,” and “Aston Martin Music”. Again, stars heavy on these tracks, yet, Ross enhances the sound, more detached from Gangsta rap, aiming for a hip hop jugular. It sounds like Pop at times, but it’s a much better style for Ross to try. If he’s going to hype this album up as something spectacular, he had to pull off something like this to surprise most of us.
It’s personally surprising, since Ross is amicable at best. It’s an album that doesn’t only deserve attention but acclaim as well. Ross puts the bar higher than his fans expected, and is sure to bring new listeners along for the ride. It could be his most successful album yet, and certainly one he shouldn’t replace with another album so soon in a year.
Rick Ross—Telfon Don—2010
Final Rating—8/10
Best: “Free Mason” (ft. Jay-Z and John Legend)
Skip: B.M.F (Blowing Money Fast) (Feat. Styles P)
One from the Vault in my mind.
“There’s certain things in life that you can stop, and there’s certain things in life that cannot be stopped…let’s go.”—Sean “P. Diddy” Combs
With that Newton-esque morsel, The then Sean “Puff Daddy, P Diddy” Combs gives the world a saga that continues. Cause Biggie died. And Sean didn’t.
Alright, through my many quips and cracks about Sean Combs, my love and idolization of the man always shows through. And he needs it. I’m the biggest fan he’s got. I’ve never tried to justify my adoration of Sean Combs/Puff Daddy/P. Diddy/Diddy/Diddy-Dirty Money, I just blame it on some serious wiring issues gone awry in my ears and brain. This makes me a prime victim for Diddyism. Fortunately, none of my friends are known to have it. Thus, I talk little of Mr. Combs around them, in fear of losing all credibility as a music listener.
But almost nine years to the day of this release, it’s more or less gone under the wayside as a moderately fly joint for 2001. Unfortunately, a fellow named (and still named) Jay-Z and a fellow named (and still named) Nas put out their own albums in 2001 that will forever live on in critical acclaim. But, we’re not talking about “The Blueprint” or “Stillmatic” right now. Though at a later date, we probably should.
The opening quote above is the first line P. Diddy gives us in the introductory song, bearing the same name as the album. The infamous “Sirius” sample is the song’s basis. You know, the one popularized when the Chicago Bulls won the ‘96-‘98 titles. Already, the sample is a bit dated and clearly an attempt to sound fresh and dominant. One should also wonder how much that arena filler music has potential to be mix taped over. Nonetheless, it’s a passable first song, and the rest gets better.
The second track, the smash hit “Bad Boy for Life” features The Bad Boy family at their best. The beat is twangy, off beat, and infectious. The lines, though light and sugary, hit hard in the right spots and only add to the appeal. Of course, this is where Diddy offers his most famous line EVER in his career:
“Don’t worry if I write rhymes, I write checks.”
And the rest of us scratch our heads and wonder what he meant. Simple. I’ll tells ya what he meant…in another review, because I won’t fill this review by going on in detail about that.
I will say, Combs deploys (and employs) a ton of aspiring talent on this album; Carl Thomas, Loon, G-Dep, Black Rob, Mark Curry, and The Neptunes. Where are these guys now? Gone. Sabotaged, used, and abused. Minus The Neptunes. Again, that’s a long story, Mark Curry (the rapper, if you thought I was talking about comedian Mark Curry, aka Mr. Cooper, kindly, stop reading my blog.) I digress. Mark Curry wrote a book about all this. I’ve yet to read it, but, I’d believe most of it already.
Aside from “Bad Boy for Life” there’s other noteworthy work to be found here. “Let’s Get It”, is a 90s scrap jam that has G-Dep and Black Rob mostly showing P. Diddy up. Though the verse Diddy does take is magnanimous:
“Ayo, call me Diddy I run this city
Send the cops, the D.A, and the feds to come get me
Cats wanna leave me for dead you coming with me
Get head in the Bentley red at one fifty”
It’s pretty pulsating. Because when P. actually goes to work, he’s pretty star studded; he knows how to make an entrance and an exit. His producing chops here, as usual, are highly enjoyable. At the very least, there’s no denying Sean has always been the master of finding patterns that get stuck in your head. No different here.
One can agree that “The Saga Continues” is certainly more gimmicky than Sean’s 1997 debut, “No Way Out”, which has pure 90s rap sentiment and classic performances filled throughout (Thank You, Christopher Wallace). Here, we have something that’s a step below the new decade, but certainly something cleaner and more refreshing than what the end of the 90s gave us. That said, it was already dated for 2001, perfectly timed for 1999, and, with the most loyal of fans (cough), is like wine in 2010. Like, a decent wine. For a nice glass every so often. But once you’re out of it, it’s really not a big deal.
Of course, the obvious argument here is, less of these guys rapping, more P. Diddy. But the Bad Boy Family pulls it together so well here. The light-heartedness behind this album makes it a solid piece for a well tuned summer romp, certainly one with West Coast flavor for your 2001 Mustang. Nonetheless, after Sean’s solo endeavor, “Forever” in 1999, and the train wreck recorded on every one of those copies, “The Saga Continues” is a safe album for the Combs repertoire. Light, fluffy (25 songs), and tracks that are somewhere in the above average-good range, with a few sneaking into the great range.
Because it’s so light and hardly impactful, it’s intended use was good for about one year. Of course, in 2010 it shows obvious age, and begs questions as to why the hell it’s 25 songs long. Some songs without Combs (though a real nice little duet between Carl Thomas and Faith Evans in “Can’t Believe”)
Be ye not surprised. Combs has exemplary producing talent and it’s on display, though The Neptunes, Mario Winans and the rest of The Hitmen do Sean a solid here. For something not in your playlist and surefire for a few giggles at your next party (who didn’t love “Bad Boy for Life”, the world’s most recognizable chorus), try a few songs here. I know I do. Which is why no one attends my parties. Cause I’m a Diddyholic.
P. Diddy and The Bad Boy Family: The Saga Continues—2001
Final Rating—8/10
Best: “Let’s Get it”
Skip: “Diddy”
Witnessed.
With a labored grin, casual attitude, and well acted humility about his decision, Lebron James has treated Cavalier fans like they are nothing short of mentally retarded. I don’t appreciate it, since, you were given the ability to play basketball so well, and the rest of us weren’t. You use that to your advantage, and as your reasoning behind wealth, power, and fame. But you cannot control karma. Why would the city root for a man who thinks he’s better than everyone else? Dan Gilbert has called you narcissistic, a man who gave up “hopeless” people. Fans idolize sports too much, but, you’re certainly not helping. You’ve also made it clear that you’re much better than the rest of us.
You were meant to be the man who stopped space and time in order to get the world to pay attention. You manipulated the Cleveland fans seven days longer than you had to. Lebron James, who does work with the boys and girls club, simply to appear humble and giving. The man who acts as though he’s truly dedicated to helping his community and children in need. That’s all a facade that people have bought into. Again, the hypocrisy behind such an act is arrogant, if not dangerous.
Citing Cleveland’s six year deal was too long, James said he didn’t want to be 31 at the end of that deal with bad knees. What he calls “bad knees” is what other people call being human. With the holy trinity in place in Miami, mediocre Heat coach Erik Spoelstra will be puffed into the reigns of championship material. What a joke. If he turns the light switch on in American Airlines Arena, he’ll be a good coach.
But again, how desperate did he make Cleveland fans look? Very. The man who single handedly upstaged the NBA Finals, The NBA Draft, The World Cup, The BET Awards, and all other NBA free agency dealings over the past seven days. And now, the first man to have his own primetime special to announce a decision that came out of his mouth, his head, his eyes. The man who quit on his team two months ago, because he knew it didn’t matter anyway.
The sickest part being the smug humility he portrays. Line for line in a movie scene. It’s been the same since he entered the league, yet, his fans accepted it as genuine, since after all, the hero hath opened his mouth. Now, it looks like it’s always looked; forced, acted, and since silence was the key before tonight, it looked so convincing. It’s honestly been the most openly displayed connivery ever broadcast to millions. “The Decision” was single handedly the dumbest and most unfathomable programming in the history of television. Gary Coleman’s exhumation would have made for better appointment TV.
Congratulations to the man who’s above the remedy of profanity, since, he’s every expletive imaginable. Including the c-word, that one being the closest to describing him. He never wanted to play in Cleveland, in fact, when it became apparent how wonderful his on court talent was in 2003, it’s been safe to say that he never wanted to play here at any point in the seven years he stayed.
And Dwayne Wade? An inadequate player. Always and forevermore. The man who will never be legendary. He needed Shaq in 2006. He’ll need the holy trinity for the rest of his career. He became the General Manager last week, and swindled two players into his kingdom. Since management and personnel make transaction decisions, that in fact, Mr. Wade, is collusion, tampering, and sabotage. Your bum knee makes you in need of talent to help you. In a way, you’re the biggest winner here.
Lebron James never found Cleveland people good enough. He showed that tonight by distancing himself and divorcing the marriage forced via Draft Lottery in 2003. The man who cares little about basketball next to himself. The man who doesn’t hear one word of the anger he’s caused tonight. The man who will talk ill of his former supporters tonight at a star studded party for his arrival. The man who makes the rest of us look mentally, physically, and emotionally incapacitated.
Mr. James, you instilled fear and made NBA Free Agency a political realm, with your White House press conference to boot tonight. Quite frankly, the best word to describe you? A terrorist. Second best word? An evil influence that spreads dangerously, called a cancer. The man is no hero, but surely a terrorist, and a cancer. Is that harsh to call him a terrorist? Did he make the people fear him? Did he cause this fear and unease? Did he do it for political gain? Then he is, at least figuratively, a terrorist.
That said, I wish him well. Because we don’t speak ill of the dead. And by the way, you party after you win a Championship, Mr. James, not just because you’re about to pursue one. In that case, the New Jersey Nets should throw their own bash.
“Put your back into it, like ya Grandma do it.”
In “Shutterbug”, the popular single off Big Boi’s new album, he fires this line before the first chorus:
“if you follow wink wink. no doubt we don’t speak. in a blink them folks could have you sleeping in the clink.”
By the time he hits that line, it’s as if his beats can’t keep up with him. It’s just the bass, and his wonderfully tuned machine gun flow. Yet, there’s a subtle elegance behind every line and verse. There are whole lines and words that need to be looked up because they come flying too fast to comprehend.
Big Boi used his time wisely since 2006’s “Idlewild” album, made with his Outkast partner, Andre 3000. This took nearly three years to record.
This being certainly different from his first “solo” album in 2003, “Speakerboxxx”, released as a double feature with Outkast. Speakerboxxx was more flagrant hip hop, with remnants of what his southern counterparts Ludacris, Cee-Lo Green, and Timbaland were putting out at the time. Needless to say, it had some great tunes, but, when released with Andre 3000’s “The Love Below,” it was brushed under the rug by fans and critics. Perhaps it was the fact that both albums were viewed as contemporaries for 2003. That means, in comparison, “The Love Below” had something more desirable. Minus the song “Way You Move”, which, has finally become listenable again. Seven years removed from its bastardization by Dave Koz colleagues Spyro Gyra and Kenny G. Dear God, if they take another hip hop song, I don’t know how we’ll function.
Surprisingly, “Turns Me On” on “Chico Dusty” is in the same mold as “Way You Move.” But, it’s a youthful beat with buttery lyrics and a smooth jazz harmony behind him. There’s something so rightfully funky about the entire album. It has a personal identity within everything Big Boi embodies in southern rap. Skits that are funny and well timed, a groove that changes just enough to keep your interest, and a performance by a rapper who’s always been capable, but, his experience and vision are on full display here. Big Boi co-produced a number of the tracks. This helps because he knows where to put the pieces. Some funk here, soul there, mixed with some jazz, R&B, swing, and a little classic hip hop, and he’s done nothing too experimental. That’s probably why it’s even more astounding; in a game where the newness most ascend (Drake), Big Boi goes for the heart of his style. Not only does he show us how it’s aged, but, he shows us how damn cool it sounds in 2010 and how it sounds new again. Had it been released 10 years ago, it would have been just as easily savored.
“Shutterbug” by far is his most ambitious work here. Tremendously snappy and quick with soulful chorus lines and a simple meaning; cut a rug. It’s powerful, creative, and God forbid, simple. It’s the perfect concoction to another wise steady album. There’s a fairly lengthy guest list he brings on. The likes of Sleepy Brown, Vonnegutt, Cutty, Jamie Foxx, Janelle Monae, T.I, George Clinton, B.o.B, and Too Short, to name quite a few. Andre 3000 co-produces “You Ain’t No DJ”, but, is otherwise absent here.
But what makes this guest list different than any other “star studded” album is that no one artist has to ignite the work, rather, they just add fuel to a fire that Big Boi has already created. In other words, Big Boi’s vision was to bring on these guests to enhance his work, make it better, and have fun with it. He doesn’t need them to help him sell more singles or albums, most of the time, you can’t even tell who/when someone has come on to take a few lines (with the obvious exceptions of Vonnegutt, T.I., and the ever heavenly Janelle Monae).
There’s a lot that’s so rightly timed about “Son of Chico Dusty.” In a year when rap has collided with pop, electro, and alternative shifts, Big Boi offers something entirely whole and in tact to hip hop. In fact, longtime label Jive/LeFace refused to release this album, citing it had little radio potential and was too “artistic.” Def Jam then signed Big Boi in March 2010 to release it. Of course, Outkast is still property of Jive. But Big Boi the solo artist is not.
But, let me get back to that real quick. This album? Not radio friendly? Too artistic? Oh. In other words, it’s a feast for the rest of us. Thank the hip hop gods. In an interview, Big Boi was told by Jive to make his own recreation of Lil Wayne’s “Lolipop.” Big Boi declined. Again, another miracle, because what he’s giving us here is so divine.
Of course, he does something on the end of “Son of Chico Dusty” that I love. He goes out harder than he comes in (that’s what she..). “Back Up Plan” is every bit as impressive an ending as “Daddy Fat Sax” is a beginning. In fact, “Back Up Plan”, a funky mix of sax and Big Boi’s always wonderful hooks, has a perfect twist of classic rap and a comfortable familiarity with his past work. Big Boi and Andre 3000 are loved for one main reason; everything they make is tremendously catchy, together, or solo.
He ends that song, and the album, by proclaiming “I done had enough, of the nasty stuff.” It’s wonderful he’s kicked his own ass on this album. Of course, I haven’t had enough of the nasty stuff, and with his followup to this on the way, we’ll get more.
A true piece of art over $$ in music. I hope he’s pleased with the results. I think it will sell moderately well. Critics are heavily praising it. Pitchfork gave it 9.2. Again, Pitchfork gave it a 9.2. Are they sure they reviewed this and not another Ghostface CD? (no offense). I’m just incredibly happy to see this getting such great reviews. And, most importantly, the listeners are very happy. Talk about stepping to the plate. Truly inspired and creative work. I’m frightened by how intelligent he is.
Electric Funk. Heavy Fun. Sans autotune. Wow.
Big Boi: Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty—2010
Final Rating—9/10
Best: “Shutterbug”
Honorable Mention: “Back Up Plan”
Skip: nuthin
It’s that bang bigga-bang ba-bang ba-bang bang. Bang bigga-bang ba-bang ba-bang bang. Bom bigga-bom ba-bang ba-bang bigga-bigga bom bigga-bom ba-bang ba-bang bang.
“I am a Renegade,
I’ve never been afraid, Fresh and I’m getting paid the future, future of this age.
From the Chi, so I talk this way. Twista hate at the Grand Marque, rock the fly shit like everyday till the top and im on my way. Let’s go, uh”—Common Universal Mind Control
If songs could save entire albums. That’s what type of miracle Common needs in “Universal Mind Control.”
Quite frankly, he made the album cause it’s the only sub genre of hip hop missing from his repertoire. That is, techno-pop, electro hip hop, whatever you want to call it. And of course, we know he’s a fan of reinvention, as 2002’s “Electric Circus” indicates a fusion of alternative hip hop that sounds more dreary than it does fresh. The ultimate head scratcher from a hip hop artist. Nonetheless, it received enough positive reviews to garner critical attention, but certainly not commercial reception, clocking in under 300,000 copies sold.
The outlook on UMC is even bleaker, however. After critical and commercial success with 2005’s “Be” and 2007’s “Finding Forever”, this followup served once again somewhere under 300,000 units sold in the U.S.
To the meat. He works with the usually impressive Neptunes to create most of the tracks. The beats are infectious. The first and title track, “Universal Mind Control”, is intergalactically contagious. Splice that with someone drumming on plastic water jugs and Common throws down some highly sensational lines. In the chorus, Pharrell proclaims that:
“this is that new shit, keep them standing in line, that universal mind control, now move your behind. you know you like it, it’s calling your name, n*gga, this is that new shit, and it don’t feel the same.”
It feels different for Common. He’s way ahead of the audience with the rhymes he’s throwing down. It’s fresh, fly, and certainly passable as a great first song on the album. You would think this sets up the rest of the album, it, with a first song like that, it should have the potential to be a fantastic sex fest of electro-static. Really “new shit”, as the chorus proclaims. Not quite.
First off, I’d call the production lazy. It’s a 38 minute album. 10 tracks. Good luck hooking your audience in 10 tracks. Not saying it’s impossible, however, when you have 10 tracks, and about half are mediocre to bad, you’re really putting together a lousy album. Not to mention, Common, originally known as Common Sense, has been around since 1992. We’re used to him talking about his Chicago upbringing and his successes/struggles trying to make it into hip hop. There’s not a problem with him neglecting most of that here. There is a problem with him giving us light, airy, and surprisingly stupid lyrics.
For example via “Sex 4 Suga:”
Or you can do what you want to do
Im just glad im in front of you
But I don’t mind bein behind
Cause imma touch you where the sun don’t shine
Surely, a 16 year rap veteran can do a little better than that.
Really, he seems unfocused throughout. Songs like “Gladiator” “Announcement,” and “Punch Drunk Love” all find Common repeating hooks, bridges, and even verses. Why? So boring and bland. Almost relying on the beats to simply let listeners pass over his scatterbrained performance. It’s a shame too, because at times, he writes some really great lines, such as:
“I still love her, she be needin’ the dick,
when it comes to hip hop, it’s just me and my bitch, uh”—Announcement
But then goes to:
“A heart full of glory and a fist of pain
A couple of battle scars but shit’s the same
Are you not entertained?”—Gladiator
Am i not entertained? Not really. Worse, he repeats that bland chorus line several times in the song. In fact, at one point in “Annoucement”, Pharrell takes a line, ONE line, only to follow that up with another line that proclaims “slow down, son, you’re killing ‘em.”
You’re not killing anyone. Not after one subpar line.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s a mood and theme here that’s anything but 2008. It’s better wrapped with flavors of 1984 and 1991. Chimed samples and earthy sounds that bare stark contrasts to Common’s lines. I’d call it “going back the roots” if this album weren’t out so out of place in his collection.
Nonetheless, it’s got wonderful touches, with an overall collaboration of hot choruses and gimmicks you’d expect from Common. But the unwelcome songs bring everything down, as he tries to experiment within the confines of experimenting aka conceptualizing way too much in a concept album. The end result is confusion, exhaustion, and quite frankly, a really boring 38 minutes instead of something down to earth, or as he wanted, something electrifying and new.
Call it the case of another old school rapper trying to inject flavor in a world of younger guys dominating the game. He’s still a living rap legend with endless potential. That is, unless he wants to focus on acting in films alongside Queen Latifah and playing a New Jersey Nets player at the age of 38.
It’s worth the time, since it’s so short. It’s sad cause there are good surprises to be found here. Certainly catchy tunes that can please a party crowd. But ultimately, it’s slow, methodical, typical, and takes way too long for something good to set up. If anything good does set up. Perhaps a few more songs may have helped bring some closure.
Common—Universal Mind Control—2008
Final Rating—5/10
Best: “Universal Mind Control”
Skip: “Changes”
