When's the last time I've done of these quick reviews? It's been quite some time, and that's because I've come to the realization that no one really likes them, and even though they take much longer to write, the track-by-track write-ups are so much more fun. But I have to do it here, because throughout the eighteen tracks on Lese Majesty, there is so much bullshit that I couldn't possibly remain sane if I wrote a paragraph about each song. That's right, I, embracer of nearly every act that is dismissed as "hipster bullshit", am calling Lese Majesty a pretentious load of fuckery.
Let me take care of some business real quick: I don't even know what happened with the Classics Week. Aside from the fact that they weren't appearing every day, there are still two more that are supposed to be coming. Maybe those reviews will pop up sporadically in the next few weeks, but for now, there are actually a few new releases that I'd like to talk about. Ideally, the posts would go back to the once every three days schedule, but I never really know how these things are going to work out. And as always, suggestions are more than welcome, especially during this part of the year, as it appears we're n the middle of a dry spell.
But for now, I figured it'd be best to leave you all my thoughts of a project that I really had no idea was a thing until about a week ago: Common's tenth (!) studio album Nobody's Smiling.
Sometime after the release and critical disappointment of 2008's Universal Mind Control (which was still nominated for a Grammy for Best Rap Album, which just goes to show how out of touch the music industry is with what constitutes as a "good" hip hop album), Lonnie Lynn realized that the experimentation wasn't getting the job done. So, he did what would seem natural to most and went back to what gained him fame in the first place: No I.D., the primary producer of his first three albums. And so, his ninth album The Dreamer / The Believer was entirely backed by No I.D.
Ah 1994. Just about the greatest year in the history of our beloved genre. A group that was somewhat prominent in southern hip hop at this time was the Geto Boys outfit, made up of Bushwick Bill. Willie D, and our host for today, Face. Scarface, or Brad Jordan (yeah, that's who Isaiah Rashad was talking about) is from Houston, Texas, and is one of the most prominent members in the history of gangster rap. Face is a man who walks with a moxy that seemingly embodies his rhymes. His trench coat and mobster hat attire in the old days made him a presence to be felt. It would seem that Jordan is a bad man. Not a bad man in the sense that he does bad things, but more of an endearing bad, like John Wayne. He personifies the name he has chosen to represent him in every way, and has even been to prison multiple times (not for killing or drug dealing, but we don't really have to talk about that. Let's all pretend he's a cold blooded killer; Makes things more fun). You cannot skim through a list of the greatest rappers of all time without finding Scarface somewhere around the top ten.
The word great is often thrown around in music. Far too often a new release will come out, and before the general masses even have time to digest it, everyone is deeming it a great release. The same is not said (in most cases) for the term classic. It takes years for an album to even enter the argument for classic status. Just under nineteen years ago, a classic album was released by Wu-Tang member, Corey Woods.
Throughout my time writing this blog, I've professed my love for A Tribe Called Quest many, many times, and will tell you right now that they are my second favorite group of all time, right next to the Wu-Tang. That might lead to you asking why the hell I haven't written about them more. Well, here's the thing. The last time we visited the Tribe was last year's classics week, where I awarded their sophomore effort a perfect five star rating. The halt came when I realized that their third album is also perfect, hence it would have to wait another full year before being examined.
After releasing the classic Amerikkka's Most Wanted and the pretty good Kill At Will EP in 1990, O'Shea Jackson dropped Death Certificate the following year. This one here is the one that pissed people off. After the release of this disc, Ice Cube's image was made illegal in the state of Oregon. That's not even a joke either, it was completely illegal to use the mans face to advertise anything in the state, and to the citizens looking into the hip hop circle, he became public enemy #1.
Which is to say, O'Shea was that motherfucker to everyone else.
As we've seen with so many other artists, a change in scenery is sometimes all it takes to create brilliance, and that was exactly the case for Ice Cube. After taking advantage of the East Coast's response to the West Coast sound with Bomb Squad production (don't take that the wrong way, the Bomb Squad were, and still are, the shit), he decided he might as well touch down back in California to see how the real thing would sound. His sophomore effort featured instrumentals provided by The Boogie Men (a three-man team made up of DJ Pooh, Bobcat, and Rashad), Dr. Dre's cousin Sir Jinks, and he even got behind the boards himself. The result was a more layered, dense soundscape, but one that would also sound angrier than his debut. And that's not a small feat, let's remember that the in-your-face nature of Amerikkka's Most Wanted was a revelation for its time.
Many people consider September 29, 1998 to be the single greatest release date in hip hop history, and I for one, am not going to argue that point. This glorious day featured five highly anticipated releases, with at least four of them being really good. First of all, there was The Love Movement, A Tribe Called Quest's final album; Mos Def & Talib Kweli Are Black Star, the emergence of two of the underground's biggest stars; Jay-Z's Vol. 2...Hard Knock Life, the release that certified him as a megastar; Foundation, Brand Nubian's long awaited reunion; and then there was Aquemini, the third offering in four years from Andre 3000 and Big Boi.
An entertaining game is trying to write track by track reviews on seven albums, declare that said reviews are part of "Classics Week", and meet a deadline that has since passed. Basically, those reviews are coming, but several factors have lead to them being pushed back. So, instead of just not updating the front page, I figured it'd be a good enough idea to throw on a write-up of an album that some of you all might actually care about.
I can't lie to you all, 2014 has been a pretty shit year for music, and that's not just me being cynical. Aside from the fact that there just hasn't been all that many albums released, most of the ones that I was excited for have flopped. But, out of obligation, we'll throw this list together.
And I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the rest of the year doesn't look to be all that much better. I've excepted that half of the albums on our Most Anticipated Albums of 2014 list won't even be dropping this year, but I'll try to be optimistic, even if it does feel a slight bit forced.
These here, though, are the ones that have separated themselves from the pack, and even though none of them are as good as Run the Jewels, you should still check them out.