M USIC

New Life State of Mind: When it comes to street poetry, the future Mr. Kelis seems otherwise engaged.

Keeping Up With the Joneses

By Sarah Godfrey lyrics with production work by the be. Save for the brief relapse that was likes of DJ Premier, Pete Rock, and his 2001 beef with Jay-Z, the 31- Street’s Disciple Q-Tip, the album managed to trans- year-old rapper has rid himself of Nas port outsiders to an world where “all much of the venom that was once his Sony Urban/Columbia the old folks pray to Jesús,” “that trademark. He’s distanced himself o matter what brilliant per- buck that bought a bottle could’ve from the quarrels of the QB, is get- mutations may be in store for struck the lotto,” and “each block is ting married to “Milkshake” minx Npost–“Hey Ya!” hiphop, it’s like a maze/Full of black rats Kelis, and has basically left the days of hard to imagine much that could trapped” without losing one shred of drinking Moët with Medusa behind measure up to the beautiful hell that hard-core credibility. him. His latest, the 25-track, double- Nas made of mid-’90s New York. But when the industry began to disc Street’s Disciple,explores the From the suicidal tendencies of Big- shift from melancholy to celebratory adult themes of shifting priorities, gie to the Shaolin escapism of the a few years later,it seemed as if Nasir the importance of family, and the Wu-Tang Clan,the music of hiphop’s Jones couldn’t handle the change. error of one’s youthful ways. Matu- most recent golden era was rich with Other artists figured out how to suc- rity, however, seems to have come at different interpretations of what it cessfully transfer skills honed in the expense of eloquence. meant to be young, drifting, and black hard-core, making the spending of In the past, Nas assumed that lis- in the dystopia of the Rotten Apple. money sound just as good as the teners didn’t know about the strug- But of all of the fine product created, street-level quest to obtain it. But gles explored in his music. As a result, Nas’ 1994 debut, Illmatic,was the not Nas: Without Illmatic’s five-mike he tried that much harder to make best of the best. Source rating to fall back on, his them come alive. But on Disciple, it’s One of the most celebrated career probably wouldn’t have sur- as if he thinks that because everyone albums in the history of hiphop, Ill- vived all those throwaway singles and is familiar with the white-picket matic seemed less a collection of songs alter egos. fence, 2.5-kids ideal, he doesn’t have than a near-cinematic rendering of After a decade of growing pains, to explain what it really means for life in the Queensbridge projects. By though, Nas again has a solid idea of him. Other MCs have built entire pairing Nas’ grimy, hyperrealistic who he is—or at least who he wants to careers around extolling the virtues of

38 January 7, 2005 Washington City Paper

38 putting away childish things, but to bring Kelis into the studio with when Nas talks about how his entire some amount of success. “Yeah, I life has changed, his rhymes don’t think about this every day/That’s the reflect similar progress. American way,” she deadpans infec- With a clunky track and leaden tiously on the song’s seesawing hook. rhymes, “Getting Married” finds Nas “Shit.” Elsewhere, the rallying at his least evocative. Indeed, rhymes lyrics—“Who you gonna elect, Satan about riding in a limo to church and or Satan?/In the ’hood, nothin’ is watching his bride walk down the changin’”—prove that Nas has aisle are as dryly worded as an Emily indeed changed and grown, and here Post–approved wedding announce- he’s not artlessly ramming that fact ment: “Headed to the chapel, my nig- down listeners’ throats. gas laughin’, and it’s baffling/’Cause “A Message to the Feds, Sincerely, just a year ago, it’s weird though, I We the People” and “These Are Our knew I’d get married.” Nas used to Heroes” similarly provide welcome temper such sentiments with a little respite from tepid rhymes about Nas’ bit of salt, but here he’s all sugar. personal life. In fact, any song that Even that part about how “the hos puts the MC’s gilded tongue and gonna miss me” comes off as treacly. quick wit before his professed matu- Equally disappointing is “War,” rity succeeds. “Thief’s Theme,” the with its shiny, easy-listening track dark first single, samples Iron Butter- and misleading title. The song is fly’s “In-a-Gadda-da-Vida,” and is ostensibly about the fight to stay cool told mostly in the present tense— when surrounded by stress, but Nas although Nas does sneak in the fact quickly loses that theme and falls that he’s “speakin’ on my old life.” “I into more talk of the two ladies in his take summers off, ’cause I love winter life—his fiancée and his daughter. beef/Started ’87, with the shotty in the And instead of discussing how their sheep/Three-quarter-length beige, love and support help him weather dressed to kill,” he raps, finally deliv- the problems of the world, he just ering the almost obsessive level of gushes. “Got a office on Broadway, detail he’s celebrated for.“Bust a shell business in Jamaica/Tell my daugh- at the ground, pellets hit the crowd/ ter try the hardest so the best Nobody like a snitch, everybody shut schools’ll take her,”he rhymes. “And they mouth/Woolrich, Carhartt, gun- I’m late to a date with my wife, I powder stains/Smellin’ like trees, sin- realize/I stop to shop, had to get her semill’ on the brain.” some type surprise.” In these familiar surroundings— This over-the-top softheartedness haunting music and discomfiting lyri- is hard to swallow, but it’s not as bad- cal content—Nas’ growth as an artist tasting as Nas’ attempts to deliver is on full display. He’s not talking raunchy material with the holier- about improving with age, but the than-thou hindsight of a reformed quality of the material lets us know man. Even on “Remember the that he has. Also notable is “U.B.R. Times,” a kinky history of the (Unauthorized Biography of numerous notches on his bedpost, Rakim),” an homage to another Nas presents himself as a pitchman Queens native who “invented a new for the family-values set. The song sound.” The execution is a little itself is preceded by an intro in which shaky—it’s hard to squeeze some- Kelis playfully asks her man which one’s entire glorious career into a 3 woman from his past he would bed minutes and 38 seconds—but the idea one last time before their nuptials—a is so brilliant that is makes up for a setup leads into a long review of his multitude of sins. Over a sparse beat conquests over,appropriately enough, that has a steady synthesized hand a pimped-out ’70s beat. Sure, the clap as its predominant feature, Nas horn- and string-laden track is simply presents a time line of his appealing enough, but something hero’s life (“First million-dollar deal about hearing a guy extol the joys of ever in rap/18th Letter did that”), monogamy while simultaneously flip- preaching to the kiddies in a way far ping through a sexual scrapbook that preferable that of his sappy, youth- includes one woman who “used to try geared 2002 hit, “I Can.” to eat my excrement” and two who To take a break from talking “sucked juice out my urethra” just about one’s own life and views to doesn’t sit well. focus on another rapper is about as To be fair, the project isn’t this selfless as it gets in mainstream horrible throughout. It’s not as if Nas hiphop, and it’s the most enjoyable had lost his ability to deliver a power- grown-man moment on Street’s Dis- ful pun or rhyme on beat, and Disci- ciple’s whole 88 minutes. But for Nas ple’s various producers—longtime to keep his music on a pace with the collaborators L.E.S., Salaam Remi, strides he’s made on the personal and Chucky Thompson, plus a couple front, he might do well to take a of guests—pull some appropriately good, hard look at himself. He’s got old-school samples from the crates: to study his own impeccable sense of George Clinton, Lyn Collins, Barry scene in order to make his family White. Nas also has plenty of pent- portraiture as interesting as the tales up political rage that he’s all too of victims-cum-criminals that he happy to unleash, dropping bombs on once spun. No one should begrudge everyone from the black actors of WB Nas the settled-down life. But until and UPN sitcoms to, of course, he can figure out how to get the joy George W.Bush. he’s obviously experiencing to jump On the Q-Tip-produced tirade off a record, no one should really be “American Way,” Nas even manages listening to him, either. CP

Washington City Paper January 7, 2005 39

39 M USIC Incorrect Change

Chart-topping single “Candy By Sarah Godfrey Money Shot: Shop” is more predictable, sugary The Massacre 50 aims low. smut, but it’s enticing. And since it’s 50 Cent being pumped by every club and Shady/Aftermath/Interscope radio station on the planet, it’s much he overexposure of 50 Cent easier to submit to its charms than isn’t all bad news. To help pick apart its weaknesses. True, it’s a T plug his new album The Mas- knockoff of “Magic Stick,” and sacre, the Queens native recently Olivia, G-Unit’s first R&B diva, is a hosted MTV Jams for an entire week- less able partner for 50 than Lil’ Kim, end, during which he picked out his yet it has that fierce Bollywood beat favorite videos for airing. As is to be and provides a break from the murder expected, most of his selections were music that makes up most of the his own material. One pick, “Life’s on album: Em collab “Gatman and Rob- the Line,” seemed far more interest- bin,” “Ski Mask Way,”“Gunz Come ing, mysterious, and genuine than Out,” and so on. anyone has a right to expect from the There are a couple of tiny man born Curtis Jackson. The 1999 moments of false clarity and honesty song is street-grimy for sure, but it on the album, which are heartening seeks to examine, rather than glorify, only because they signal that 50 hiphop’s obsession with drugs, sex, knows he should at least attempt and guns. In the low-budget vid, 50 them. On “God Gave Me Style,” the chastises rappers who “escape reality rapper tries to wear his heart on his when they rhyme,” bragging about sleeve by talking about how grateful the nonexistent weight they hold and he is to have traded his triple-beam cars they drive. for a microphone and how he feels This is 50 at his finest, speaking to alone even when he’s surrounded by the violence and thug currency that friends. But the sentiments are so he’s fascinated by and adding just a bit clichéd that it’s hard to view them as of cultural criticism. Much more genuine. And the album’s alleged love often, he simply holds a mirror up to songs, “So Amazing” and “Build You our expectations of the Man Who tinkering that made Get Rich a smash. ‘Damn, niggas wanna stick me for Up,” can be dismissed as the silky Was Shot Nine Times: We don’t care Here 50 tries to take us to Jamaica— my paper’ then ‘Pray for my down- gamesmanship of a skilled pimp. what he has to say about life on the Queens, that is—through some sim- fall’/I understand it all/But me—I’m But The Massacre does have one streets; the mere fact that he’s sur- ple, carefully chosen imagery: a lil’ more flashy a nigga/So chances moment of genuine profundity that vived it is enough. He’s a just-the- “Shorty down there on that Queens are, I’m-a have ta blast me a nigga.” appears to have slipped in under the facts sort of MC who talks about his track, takin’ a whippin’/Shit, bitch “Piggy Bank,” the battle track radar.On “A Baltimore Love Thing,” bullet-pocked past and millions of get outta pocket, she need some dis- everyone is talking about because of 50 plays the part of heroin, enticing a dollars with a chilly detachment that cipline,” he rhymes. “Peep the fiend its slander of Nas, Jadakiss, and Fat junkie to cook him up and shoot him somehow makes it all sound good— shootin’ diesel in his arm in the Joe, is similar—inflammatory on first into her veins. The idea isn’t a new deep, even, if you don’t listen too alley/Look at the chrome spinners listen, profoundly noncontroversial one, but 50’s version plays the carefully. His charms enable him to spinnin’ on that black Denali.” on the inevitable next. Aside from metaphorical similarities between dwell in a comfort zone of guns, vio- Sure, he’s showing rather than New York producer Needlz’s clever- unhealthy personal relationships and lence, and misogyny without ever telling, but he takes it too far. While ly syncopated coin-dropping drug addiction for all they’re worth. having to explore how he got there or trying to take listeners on a guided rhythm, it’s just more of 50 talking “Now you tryin’ ta leave me/You’ll why he remains. tour of his home turf, he leaves them about how strapped and hard he is never live without me/Girl, I’m Hiphop rewards thoughtful gang- to gaze out of their windows without and how much money he makes. missin’ you/Come and see me sters—stupid ones may enjoy short- explaining the sights, without giving Addressing Jada, he says, “Homey,in soon/Tie your arm up, put that lived fame, but rarely are they award- up one word about how these things New York, niggas like your lighter under that spoon,” he rhymes. ed sustainable credibility.If 50 is able are relevant to his life or the world as vocals/But that’s only New York, “Now put that needle to your arm, to retain his lock on the game simply a whole. The scariest thing about the dawg/Your ass is local.” He insults princess, stick it in/Relapse/You back by talking loud and saying nothing, it track isn’t its depiction of violence other rappers in a similar fashion, bitch, don’t ever try that again.” will mark a huge shift in the genre. but the fact that its creator has man- but he never once professes to be a He also shouts out several horse- That the new album, The Massacre, aged to make a completely infectious better lyricist than any of his targets. shooting celebs: Marvin Gaye, Ozzy sold 1.14 million copies in its first song completely devoid of any other He makes more money than the men Osbourne, Kurt Cobain, Frankie four days of release suggests the shift redeeming quality. he picks on, and his face is on more Lymon, and Jimi Hendrix. The move may be happening already.The disc, And The Massacre is undoubtedly posters and store displays, but he recalls 50’s gutsy 1999 single “How to the eagerly anticipated follow-up to an addictive listen. The album shows knows not to put his mike-slinging Rob,” on which he comedically imag- 2003’s multiplatinum Get Rich or Die off a roster of rookie and seasoned talent up against theirs. More impor- ined which rappers would be soft Tryin’, is to 50 what Niggaz4Life was producers, catchy hooks, and, most of tant, he doesn’t have to: His power enough to mug—a neat puncturing of to N.W.A.: a complete departure all, 50’s beautiful voice. Whether he’s comes from persuasion, not skill. gangster theatricality.Here, the target from thought-provoking gangster- singing or rhyming, his raspy tone That power is truly tested with is the very same fame-fueled world ism. Shallow shoot-’em-up albums has a hypnotic quality that lulls the “Get in My Car”—only a true the MC invokes reflexively almost aren’t new,of course, but the absence listener through soulless lines about manipulator could get people to cop everywhere else on The Massacre:“I of any sort of political statement or fucking women, firing pistols, and to liking a hook such as “I got no be with rock stars, see you lucky I’m larger look at society on a hard-core selling drugs. “I’m Supposed to Die pickup lines/I stay on da grind/I tell fuckin’ with you.” The lyrics are tied album usually signals the beginning Tonight,” for example, is classic the hoes all the time/Bitch get in my together nicely by an appropriate soul of the end. superficial 50: He taps Eminem to car.” Amazingly, 50’s nonchalant sample—a snippet of the Dells’ “I’ll “In My Hood,” produced by C lay down one of his usual dark, creepy delivery almost makes the song as Be Waiting There for You.” The Styles, is 50 at his most matter-of- tracks; the title holds promise of a tight as he thinks it is, and producer entire track is hot, right down to the fact. The track is filled with the horns paranoid, prophetic masterpiece that Hi-Tek picks up the rest of the slack. line in which 50 begs, “Promise me and piano chords that New York remains undelivered. Instead, we get The twangy guitar and soulful bass you’ll come and see me/Even if it hiphop had a long love affair with a proud declaration of shallowness: line the Rawkus track master throws means you have to sell your mama’s during the ’90s, but it has enough “In 2002, if you asked me to make a at this clunker are the only things TV.” Coming from a guy who now synth to give it a little West Coast fla- wish/I simply woulda wished that my that move it beyond being a nastier lives and dies by the idiot box, that’s vor—it’s the exact sort of bicoastal music would be a hit/Big said, reprisal of “P.I.M.P.” a powerful statement indeed. CP

36 March 18, 2005 Washington City Paper

36 MUSIC

The Way of the West: Kanye finds direction.

Principle Playa

By Sarah Godfrey Vuitton Don/Bought my mom a purse, now she Louis Vuitton Mom,” Late Registration from the 28-year-old Chicagoan’s Kanye West debut LP,2004’s The College Dropout. Roc-A-Fella Besides, it’s not as if he was the first anye West’s rise to fame had all lyrically deficient producer-turned- the makings of a modern fairy rapper the world had ever seen. In K tale—call it “The Emperor’s fact, when he first emerged, West New Flow.”When the superstar pro- looked a lot like Puff Daddy. There ducer began rhyming, back in 2003, was the initial dependence on a big- he labeled anyone who failed to rec- ger, brighter star; fascination with ognize his genius an enemy of hiphop. fashion and jewelry; and, of course, His relentless propaganda campaign the overconfidence in his abilities. worked: Few questioned the skill of Dropout was even West’s very own the Roc-A-Fella–backed artist, and No Way Out: wack rhymes saved by the next thing you know, he was all interesting production. West isn’t the over the place—shows, videos, first to do the whole soul-sample-on- radio—with people everywhere speed thing, but he certainly helped buzzing about his poetic prowess. bring it to prominence and, now, Eventually, a contingent emerged prevalence. The beats, along with his that had the guts to say the man can’t exploration of the sort of middle- rap, but even it had to acknowledge class themes—pop culture! disillu- that West’s production work covered sionment with higher education!— a multitude of lyrical sins—even lines that music critics could relate to, as horrible as “I’m Kan, the Louis earned most of the praise for his first

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42 solo effort. The new Late Registration, however, is a different story. West is less like Diddy and more like reserved, brilliant producer/rapper Dr. Dre. Like Dre’s groundbreaking 1992 album, The Chronic,Registration not only is sonically innovative but also includes solid lyrics from guests and adequate verses from West. Those who blasted West’s rhyme skills will find him much improved. On “Touch the Sky,”a song about his professional and personal struggles built around a horn-saturated Curtis Mayfield sample, West drops this lit- tle gem: “Back when they thought pink polos would hurt the Roc/Before Cam’ got the shit to pop/The doors was closed/I felt like Bad Boy’s street team—I couldn’t work the Lox.” OK, he’s still no Rakim, but he has gotten better—and better still, his newfound talent hasn’t gone to his head. West doesn’t show off his wordplay at every opportunity; he slips it in where appropriate. Regis- tration is the work of a man who’s finally realized that just because it’s his album doesn’t mean he has to mark his musical territory by pissing all over it. Kanye has had a wonderful epiphany: Less of him is more. Dropout explored education, reli- gion, and death, but it was all about (continued on page 44)

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43 MUSIC (continued from page 43)

how the world affected West. Social music is the black community’s shot issues were relevant only when they at not just riches but also payback. As gave him an excuse to brag about the track progresses, it breaks apart breaking the commercial-hiphop and becomes a weird tangle of sound mold. He rapped about shunning col- effects, then a sermon: “What we lege because he knew it would push gave back was crack music/And now buttons; he rapped about Jesus we ooze it/Through they nooks and because no mainstream rapper had crannies/So our mommas ain’t gotta done it well before; he rapped about be they cooks and nannies/And we his insecurities and then patted him- gon’ repo everything they ever took self on the back for being “the first to from Grammy/Now the former slaves admit” them. If West went beyond trade hooks for Grammys.” generic hiphop boasts, he did so only West’s growth is most noticeable to reach a new level of narcissistic in content, but he’s made strides in navel-gazing. other areas as well. Using another Hiphop braggadocio is interest- producer to enhance his sound was a ing—and tolerable—only when it’s pretty humble, grown-up move. So used as a small, sad way for the disen- was bringing in a huge cast of guests franchised to grab at dignity: king-of- who could’ve easily shown him up, the-block claims tempered by the including Nas, Common, the Game, diminutive size of the kingdom, for Paul Wall,and a slew of other serious example. West never had that sort of MCs (though not, thank god, hiphop poignancy behind his boasts—he was violinist Miri Ben-Ami). On the just a kid with a relative wealth of “Diamonds” remix, West manages opportunities who worked hard and to outshine his friend, his mentor,his became a superstar. But he’s slowly everything—Jay-Z. In terms of opening his eyes to the woes of oth- rhythm and rhyme, Jay sounds better ers, gradually adopting a view of the over the Shirley Bassey sample, but world that extends beyond his nose. West analyzes the gem trade and all He’s on TV saying, “George Bush Jay-Z can do is talk about upholding doesn’t care about black people.” the Roc name and address the rumors He’s speaking out against “conflict plaguing his business empire. By rat- diamonds” in a re-recording of Reg- tling off the names of his artists istration’s first single, “Diamonds instead of bashing De Beers, the From Sierra Leone.” Up there on the mogul missed out on what could’ve rickety stage of megacelebrity, he’s been a classic rap moment. becoming politicized—and unlike, On “Heard ’Em Say,”by contrast, say, Sean Penn, he seems just as sur- West pretty much lets Maroon 5 prised by it as the rest of us. frontman Adam Levine’s singing and He can still be an asshole, for sure. Brion’s strange mix of piano and “Bring Me Down,” featuring Brandy, synth bass line take center stage. He’ll is all about people trying to forsake occasionally drop a bomb such as “I him like Christ or something, and know the government administered “Addiction” is a self-indulgent piece AIDS,” but he’s not jumping up and on which he congratulates himself for down demanding to be heard. “Drive fessing up to his vices. But counter Slow,” featuring Wall, has a down- those with “Roses,” a song about how South flavor and even includes a West’s sick grandmother,a dedicated screwed interlude, but it’s mellowed church secretary, is denied the high- out with syncopated keys and the quality medical care available to horn section that appears on most of celebrities. “You know the best med- Registration. Yet the track is most icine go to people that’s paid/If Magic notable for background vocals so soft Johnson got a cure for AIDS/And all and airy that they sound like an the broke muthafuckas passed instrument themselves, a barely per- away/You tellin’ me if my grandma’s ceptible humming that is a long way in the NBA/Right now she would be from the loud, distorted wailing West OK?” he raps over a sample from Bill once favored. Withers’ “Rosie.” An otherworldly His magnum opus as a producer, electronica breakdown toward the however, is “We Major,” one of the end of the track—most likely cour- most interesting hiphop tracks in tesy of Fiona Apple producer Jon recent years. It features more horns, Brion—helps keep things from get- twinkling keys, and cheesy,oversim- ting too treacly. Better yet, it’s clear ple percussion. Together, they that West didn’t record the song to become what must be the most free- vent about how much his grand- flowing seven-and-a-half minutes mother’s illness has fucked him up or ever to sit at No. 1, something that to be a trailblazer.Instead, he’s chan- sounds like an early-’70s Stevie Won- neled his outrage into a clear state- der jamming with a junior high ment on how the disadvantaged are school band’s drum section. Not even treated in this country. a verse from the infamous Nas is a “Crack Music” also tackles tough match for the track. Just when the material with unforeseen sophistica- music has almost faded out, West tion. Over hard-hitting percussion jumps in and shouts, “Can I talk my and a peppy “la, la, la” of a choir, shit again?” He then brings the beat West talks about how music is the back up and repeats the same line: new drug game, the new way to make “Can I talk my shit again?” It’s a money and get out of the ghetto. It move that’s out of step with most of smacks of Jay-Z’s 10-year-old “Rap Late Registration, too brash and arro- Game/Crack Game,” but instead of gant. But by the time West issues it, just comparing the seediness of the he’s earned the right to talk his shit as two industries, West suggests that much as he wants. CP

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