nas nasir album download suprafiles ’ ‘Nasir’ Album Is (Good) Rapping for Rap’s Sake. On “Simple Things,” the outro to Nasir , Nas takes special aim at a criticism that’s plagued him for much of his career—his beat selection. “Never sold a record for the beat, it's my verses they purchase,” he raps over a heavenly instrumental. Nas challenges that long-standing (and oft- exaggerated) flak by teaming up with Kanye West for the entirety of Nasir 's seven songs. And the two music minds came up with a project that wavers between brilliant synergy and occasionally uninspired filler. Whereas the title of Nas’ previous album, 2012’s Life Is Good , is an optimistic tongue-in-cheek nod to the turmoil in Nas’ life, Nasir takes the phrase at face value. He raps about foreign delicacies. Touts his booming businesses. Boasts about making songs that grace Harvard University curriculums. On the frenzied “White Label,” he fancies himself a fashion icon (“You impressed with what they wearing, I started that,” he scoffs). Yet the best moments, however, arrive when Nas offers introspection. On “Bonjour,” Nas reflects on his privilege while Tony Williams lays immaculate vocals over a chopped loop of R.D. Burman’s “Dance Music.” “Vacations I didn't like, put myself through a guilt trip/All these beautiful places, but the cities be poor/You wealthy when your kid’s upbringing better than yours,” Nas raps. The Queensbridge legend can still bend bars with the best, but where the writing of his past work is more holistic and focused in subject matter, here he offers bite-sized maxims that come across like pieced-together scrawls from his book of rhymes. Sure, they often show ingenuity—on “Everything,” he nails the succinct, “People do anything to be involved in everything/Inclusion is a hell of a drug.” But a vivid narrative like 2002’s “Get Down” or conceptual spill like 2012’s “Cherry Wine” would help to fill out a project that lacks Nas' signature storytelling or world building. Nas is a bit girl crazy on Nasir. He recaps his sexploits and stories of past and present flames. On the frenzied “White Label,” he brags about bagging “ Jet ’s Beauty of the Week, 1993," while "Simple Things" boasts some more about his dating history. Yet it’s the woman that he doesn’t directly address—his ex-wife Kelis—that is most noticeable. About two months before Nasir 's release, the singer claimed that Nas was physically abusive during their marriage of four years. Here, Nas deflects. On “Everything,” the album's sparse centerpiece, he disses journalists and bloggers (“To my life, your life pales in comparison,” he snipes) while refusing to address unnamed controversies (“Messiness is not ever the god”). On "Bonjour," he throws a subtle dig at Kelis (“Watch who you getting pregnant, that's long-term stressing”), with whom he's been legally feuding for years. Still, Nas’ indirectness is glaring, considering the cloud that the allegations have cast over the album’s release and the candor Nas has displayed on Life Is Good . Nasir suffers from some of the same hindrances as Kanye West’s Ye . At times Nas’ free thought could be reeled in. The 070 Shake-featured “Not for Radio”—an attempt to recapture the magic and ambiance of 1999’s “”—finds Nas offering questionable alternative facts about Fox News while Puff Daddy drops angry adlibs. Esco goes full anti-vaxxer on the aforementioned “Everything,” despite the conspiracy theory being disproved eight years ago. Unfortunately, Nas lacks that same passion on the propulsive, Slick Rick-sampling “Cop Shot the Kid,” as he drops impassive bars about police brutality before Kanye chimes in with “I know every story got two sides.” It’s familiar ground that both artists have handled with more depth and passion in the past (see: Nas’ “Cops Keep Firing” or his guest verses on Robin Thicke’s 2016 track, “Deep”). Nas is more thoughtful on the closer "Simple Things," despite its abrupt ending. And he shows a passion on "Adam and Eve” that's missing elsewhere, as his words dance to a flawless piano loop. More of this continuity between rhymes and rhythms would help Nasir surpass good music and deliver greatness. Nas Releases ‘Nasir’ Album. All the "Nas Album Done" talk is finally over, because Nas' album is actually done. For real this time. On Friday (June 15), Esco delivers his 11th solo studio album, Nasir . Since declaring that his project was finalized on DJ Khaled's 2016 album, Major Key , we've seen little evidence that that was actually the case. Last year, Mr. Jones hinted the LP would drop in summer 2017. “Two weeks,” he explained in an interview with The New York Times . “I always say I’m two weeks away from finishing.” But instead, the Queens rap legend's rumored relationship with Nicki Minaj and custody battle with ex-wife Kelis dominated headlines. Then, out of nowhere, Kanye West let the cat out of the bag about Nas' release date and also revealed he would be producing the album in April. Funny thing is, all the while, Nas remained mum. He did, however, ink a distribution deal for his Mass Appeal Records with Universal Music Group ahead of the release, which gives Mass Appeal access to UMG's marketing and promotion teams. Nasir serves as the first release as part of the new partnership. Now, the silence is over. Nasir continues the G.O.O.D. Music mantra of only having seven tracks, which he debuted during a listening party under the Queensboro Bridge in New York City on Thursday night (June 14). Singer 070 Shake, who recently appeared on both Kanye's Ye album and his joint LP with Kid Cudi, Kids See Ghosts , appears on "Not for Radio." Comedy legend Richard Pryor adds a bit to "Cop Shot the Kid" before Yeezy also makes use of a Slick Rick sample on the track, flipping "A Children's Story" for the song's chorus. Nas also taps The-Dream, Tony Williams and Diddy (as Puff Daddy) for features. Along with the new album, Nas also announced the launch of an online store that features exclusive merchandise designed by Cali Thornhill Dewitt with creative direction by Kanye. The collection features T-shirts, long-sleeve shirts and hoodies with the album's cover printed on the back. Initially, the album was only available on Tidal, but the final product is now officially available at all digital service providers. It's hard to believe it's been six years since Nas put out his last album. But here we are, in 2018, still being blessed by his new music. Listen to Nas' new Nasir album below. Nas' Nasir Album Tracklist. 1. "Not for Radio" featuring Puff Daddy and 070 Shake 2. "Cop Shot the Kid" 3. "White Label" 4. "Bonjour" featuring Tony Williams 5. "Everything" featuring The-Dream 6. "Adam and Eve" featuring The-Dream 7. "Simple Things" ‘Nasir’ Is the One Thing the Rapper Has Never Been Before – Dull. Every Nas album since the turn of the century has closely orbited a major theme. At his most overt (he called an album in 2006 and tried to call another Nigger two years later), the iconic Queens rapper will trace one idea from a dozen different angles, writing high-concept Fox News disses or rapping like a 1920s bootlegger. Sometimes he’s more subtle: 2002’s God’s Son , released exactly a year after he telegraphed a return to form on , feigns the same sort of legacy burnishing but is really an album about his mother’s death. His last LP, 2012’s Life Is Good , was a bloodletting after his divorce, a grappling with middle age from a man whose later work, which includes a couple of minor masterpieces, can’t escape the shadow of the album he made when he was 20. After the longest dormant period of his career, Nas returned last week with Nasir , the slightest, lowest-concept record in his discography. It’s executive produced by Kanye West––a generation-defining genius maybe, but just as importantly: the guy who produced “Takeover,” Jay-Z’s epochal 2001 evisceration of Nas. It’s the fourth of five G.O.O.D. Music albums dropped in five weeks, all overseen by Kanye, all seven songs long. It also comes in the midst of scandal for both men. West, as has been well-documented, started promoting this string of albums by flirting with the online alt-right and loudly proclaiming his love for Donald Trump. Less global but maybe graver: in April, Nas’s ex-wife, the artist-turned- chef Kelis, gave an interview in which she alleged brutal physical violence at the rapper’s hands. (Nas had previously been accused of striking Carmen Bryan, the mother of his daughter, in Bryan’s 2006 autobiography.) Nas hasn’t publicly addressed the allegations from Kelis, and he doesn’t broach the subject on Nasir , either, unless you count an oblique line on the closer, “Simple Things” (“Was loving women you’ll never see me / All you know’s my kids’ mothers, some celebrities / Damn, look at the jealousy”). In fact, even considering the short running time, there’s little in the way of narrative or thematic design. It’s among Nas’s most scattered records, unfocused and unclear. And when it comes to simple execution, Nasir plays to his weaknesses as a writer and finds him staid and tired where Life Is Good probed for new ground, clumsy and subdued where he’s often been breathtaking. Nasir is among the weakest Nas albums, but there’s nothing spectacular about its failure. Nas has, in the past, been a near-peerless writer when dealing in autobiography or writing linear, detail-rich narrative. He’s generally been at his least effective when he’s at his most abstract, or when he’s mulling over grandiose theories. Nasir ’s opener, “Not For Radio,” dives headlong into a list of theories, some reasonable and some (“Fox News was started by a black dude”) easily disproved. Despite that, the song almost works––it sounds like a villain’s theme from a b-movie, and Puff is flown in simply to talk shit––but Nas’s verses are ultimately too pedestrian, as writing and as performance. While Nas has never been the most musically gifted rapper, he’s been a precise technician, able to rap exceptionally both with and against the beat. On Nasir , though, he often plods, which leaves his writing exposed. This makes for songs that are, frankly, a drag: “Bonjour” is a long- winded argument that Nas goes on a lot of dates, and “White Label” is basically content to revel in the fact that Nas has become a successful investor. (The latter song features a true late-Nas head scratcher: “What you love can kill you / Like a heart physician dying of a heart attack.”) While the seven-song format has served both Pusha-T and Kid Cudi well, and while Nas has made perhaps the greatest short rap record ever in his classic 1994 debut , the brevity doesn’t do him any favors here. The two dominant modes on Nasir are self-satisfaction and a sort of workmanlike stiffness, neither of which suits Nas and both of which make the album’s 26 minutes seem far longer. The most cogent song is “,” which includes the lone guest verse, from Kanye. The beat is built on a vocal sample from Slick Rick’s “Children’s Story”––as in, the single line (“The cops shot the kid”), which gets looped end over end through the verses and doubled down on during the hook. It’s not a radical choice, but it’s spare and piercing and illustrates the hard break from both the Gothic opener “Not For Radio” and from the previous G.O.O.D. release, Kids See Ghosts . (If nothing else, this five-album experiment highlights Kanye’s versatility as an executive producer.) Nas’ verse doesn’t necessarily hold up next to his voluminous catalog of writing on race in general and the police specifically, but it’s a clear, uncompromised thesis. There are interesting flashes elsewhere on the album: the end of the seven-minute odyssey “Everything,” where Nas buys back the land on which white men once enslaved his ancestors lands superbly, and when he raps, on “Adam and Eve,” about the way the speakers make “chinchillas shake on the hanger,” you’re transported back to the reams of unforgettably colorful verses that dot his career. But here there are only glimpses. In the years between and Life Is Good , Nas gained a reputation for picking poor beats and littering his albums with spectacularly failed experiments. Both are rooted in truth; both are exaggerations. Nasir is among the weakest Nas albums, but there’s nothing spectacular about its failure. It is, simply, the one thing Nas has avoided being all these years, through revolutionary highs and car-crash lows: dull. Illmatic. Purchase and download this album in a wide variety of formats depending on your needs. Buy the album Starting at $8.99. Copy the following link to share it. You are currently listening to samples. Listen to over 70 million songs with an unlimited streaming plan. Listen to this album and more than 70 million songs with your unlimited streaming plans. 1 month free, then $14.99/ month. Nas, Associated Performer, Main Artist, Associated Performer - N/A, Producer - Nasir Jones, Composer, Lyricist - Freddy Braithwaite, Composer, Lyricist. (P) 1994 Columbia Records, a division of Sony Music Entertainment. Nas, Associated Performer, Main Artist, Associated Performer - Nasir Jones, Composer, Lyricist - Christopher Martin, Composer, Lyricist - DJ Premier for Works of Mart Productions, Producer - Eddie Sancho, Mixing Engineer, Recording Engineer. (P) 1994 Columbia Records, a division of Sony Music Entertainment. Nas, Associated Performer, Co-Producer, Main Artist, Associated Performer, Co-Producer - L.E.S., Producer - Nasir Jones, Composer, Lyricist - A.Z. - Anthony Cruz, Composer, Lyricist - Olu Dara, Composer, Lyricist, Trumpet - Ronnie Wilson, Composer, Lyricist - Oliver Scott, Composer, Lyricist. (P) 1994 Columbia Records, a division of Sony Music Entertainment. Nas, Associated Performer, Main Artist, Associated Performer - N. Jones, Composer, Lyricist - Pete Rock for Mecca and The Soul Brother Productions, Inc., Producer - P. Phillips, Composer, Lyricist. (P) 1994 Columbia Records, a division of Sony Music Entertainment. Nas, Associated Performer, Main Artist, Associated Performer - Nasir Jones, Composer, Lyricist - The Large Professor for Paul Sea Productions, Inc., Producer - Kevin Reynolds, Mixing Engineer, Recording Engineer - Paul Mitchell, Composer, Lyricist - Gary Byrd, Composer, Lyricist. (P) 1994 Columbia Records, a division of Sony Music Entertainment. Nas, Associated Performer, Main Artist, Associated Performer - Nasir Jones, Composer, Lyricist - Christopher Martin, Composer, Lyricist - DJ Premier for Works of Mart Productions, Producer - Eddie Sancho, Mixing Engineer, Recording Engineer - Peg Barsella, Composer, Lyricist - Reuben Wilson, Composer, Lyricist. (P) 1994 Columbia Records, a division of Sony Music Entertainment. Nas, Associated Performer, Main Artist, Associated Performer - Jonathan Davis, Composer, Lyricist - Q-Tip for A Tribe Called Quest, Inc., Producer - Nasir Jones, Composer, Lyricist - T. Latham, Engineer - Jimmy Heath, Composer, Lyricist. (P) 1994 Columbia Records, a division of Sony Music Entertainment. Nas, Associated Performer, Main Artist, Associated Performer - Nasir Jones, Composer, Lyricist - The Large Professor for Paul Sea Productions, Inc., Producer - Kevin Reynolds, Mixing Engineer, Recording Engineer - Paul Mitchell, Composer, Lyricist. (P) 1994 Columbia Records, a division of Sony Music Entertainment. Nas, Associated Performer, Main Artist, Associated Performer - Nasir Jones, Composer, Lyricist - DJ Premier for Works of Mart Productions, Producer - Eddie Sancho, Mixing Engineer, Recording Engineer - Christopher Martin, Composer, Lyricist. (P) 1994 Columbia Records, a division of Sony Music Entertainment. Nas, Associated Performer, Main Artist, Associated Performer - Nasir Jones, Composer, Lyricist - The Large Professor for Paul Sea Productions, Inc., Producer - Paul Mitchell, Composer, Lyricist - Stan Wallace, Recording Engineer. (P) 1994 Columbia Records, a division of Sony Music Entertainment. About the album. 1 disc(s) - 10 track(s) Total length: 00:39:44. (P) 1994 Columbia Records, a division of Sony Music Entertainment. Why buy on Qobuz. Stream or download your music. Buy an album or an individual track. Or listen to our entire catalogue with our high-quality unlimited streaming subscriptions. Zero DRM. The downloaded files belong to you, without any usage limit. You can download them as many times as you like. Choose the format best suited for you. Download your purchases in a wide variety of formats (FLAC, ALAC, WAV, AIFF. ) depending on your needs. Listen to your purchases on our apps. Download the Qobuz apps for smartphones, tablets and computers, and listen to your purchases wherever you go. Chopin : Piano Concertos. It Was Written (Expanded Edition) King's Disease (Explicit Version) King's Disease (Explicit) Playlists. CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST. Tyler, The Creator. WAP (feat. Megan Thee Stallion) (Explicit) Nas became a legend at 20 years old. On his first attempt, this rapper coming from Queensbridge, New York, was already everything: an extraordinary technician, a striking narrator, a savior. But what happens next? How to evolve? How to surpass yourself when the industry regards you as the chosen one? How to age in a youth music when your first opus is your supreme work? Over the last twenty years, Kanye West has consistently changed the course of rap music and influenced his era’s pop scene like no other. Collaborating with Paul McCartney, Rick Rubin, and Rihanna, he has both revitalized the careers of Jay-Z and Common and provided a platform for Kid Cudi and John Legend. Kanye West remains a major influence on artists such as Childish Gambino, Drake and The Weeknd. Cast yourself back to the career of an endlessly enigmatic artist. Daniel Dumile, alias MF DOOM, lived a thousand lives and his career was a succession of false starts and bright flashes. Before passing away on the 31st of October, 2020, Dumile had been a young virtuoso rapper welcomed with open arms by the music industry, then an outcast that sneaked back onto the scene through the back door after years of wandering (now masked), the 'go-to-guy' of independent rap during the 2000s and then some kind of Indie messiah as dubbed by Thom Yorke and Flying Lotus. Elusive, whimsical, a trickster and a money maker, DOOM rewrote the rules of rap music, rubbed people up the wrong way and paved the way for a whole generation of MCs. Nasir. No longer able to summon his mythical sense of storytelling, Nas sounds lost on his 11th studio album. Kanye’s production doesn’t help, either. It’s hard to discern whether Nasir was even Nas’ idea. When Kanye West announced he’d be producing it, it felt like a personal milestone for him more than a fleshed-out collaboration. Nas clearly obliged, but it’s hard to imagine Nasir is the album Nas bragged about on the 2016 DJ Khaled song “Nas Album Done.” The record was not done at the time that track was released, but the sheer brashness of Nas treating a completed album like a plutonium cache indicated that he was feeling himself. But on Nasir , even as he tackles classic Nas subjects like police brutality, managing money, and conspiracy theories, a noxious cloud hangs over everything: Nas is bored. He opens the album with the perfunctory enthusiasm of a waiter describing the daily special to her 30th table that night. “Escobar season begins,” he says flatly, quickly passing the mic to Diddy, whose raucous presence, by contrast, is immediately felt. A sped-up loop of the main theme of The Hunt for Red October gives “Not for Radio” some cinematic and regal flair, but Nas lumbers through his verses. Weaving together outsized paranoia (“They try to Hyman Roth me/John Fitzgerald me”), textbook hotepisms (“Black Kemet gods, Black Egyptian gods/Summoned from heaven, blessed, dressed in only Goyard”), and boilerplate faux-deep commentary (“Shoot the ballot box, no voter cards, they are all frauds”), he builds to a doofy litany of falsehoods and unsolicited history lessons. On the surface, lines like “Fox News was started by a black dude” (it wasn’t) and “Edgar Hoover was black” (he wasn’t) are standard Nas soapboxing; messianic titles aside, Nas has very rarely claimed to be anything other than one guy trying to move the masses by sharing what he believes. But there’s an emptiness to these provocations. Nas sounds less like a street preacher touting with conviction and urgency, and more like an online commenter shitposting in search of a jolt of entropy. It’s not quite trolling, but there’s an abandon to his claims, a lack of consideration. It’s lazy writing. “Cops Shot the Kid,” a bouncy track built around a rickety sample of Slick Rick’s “Children’s Story,” is more purposeful. Nas flits between irritation and resignation as he chronicles the dread and terror of being black in America. He’s been on this beat since he rebuked a “foul cop” who shot an allegedly unarmed man on Illmatic ’s “Halftime,” and you can feel the history in his voice. “Y’all are blowing my high,” he laments as cops circle around some city kids enjoying a hacked fire hydrant. The song falters when Kanye dips in to detail the “other side” of cops killing black kids. Whereas Nas’ verse had setting, character, and mise en scene, Kanye’s is all stage directions. “I know every story got two sides,” he raps to the clouds. It’s clear which side he wants to empathize with, but considering his recent comments about slavery and his sloppy verse on Pusha-T’s Daytona (“Will MAGA hats let me slide like a drive-thru?”), his verse is distracting. The fact that it wasn’t cut feels negligent. It’s easy to pin this lack of focus on Kanye’s domineering vision of Nas, but Nas never really demands the spotlight. Abandoning the keen eye for details that he honed from his famous project window perch, Nas instead offers bland reports from the Met Gala and somewhere in the south of France; his narratives have the excitement of a geo-tag. Luxury items, artisanal foods, and women are rendered crudely, without flourish or even appetite. “Having drinks in Vegas, my business,” he boasts on “Bonjour,” the beverage and the business omitted. When Nas does find inspiration, his passion is outrageously misplaced. “Everything,” the centerpiece of the album, is essentially a bizarro version of “If I Ruled the World” where, instead of outlining a black utopia, Nas rails against… child vaccinations, inclusion, and the ghosts of rich white people. “If I had everything, everything/I could change anything,” Kanye croons, driving home the aimlessness of the song. They covet the power to shape the world, but not the responsibility. In the rare moments where Nasir achieves coherence, Nas is often concerned with the precarity of his successes. “Adam and Eve” and “Simple Things” contain multiple allusions to loss, longevity, and humiliation. Nas frets often about his children missing out on his gains, and his own peace of mind being threatened by his indiscretions or generational trauma. Kelis’ recent allegations of abuse during her marriage to Nas can make these nods to broken families and debts feel like elisions and barbs, but that is probably too generous. The writing is so meandering and mechanical that little here feels intentional, even the gaps. And strangely, that’s the bittersweet takeaway: Nas the meticulous observer has been supplanted by Nas the nervous rambler. It doesn’t feel like an accident.