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.
The Dreamer / The Believer finally hit shelves at the end of 2011 after Common continuously insisted that he was a good actor who deserved more roles, which delayed the whole process for at least a little while. As a whole, the album was alright (although "Sweet" is still one of the best songs he's ever recorded), and even though it didn't reach the heights of his mid-90s material, it was definitely a step in the right direction. Apparently, the two thought they could work out the kinks, and this year, they dropped their second consecutive project, which carries the melodramatic title of Nobody's Smiling.
Nobody's Smiling again caught my attention because of the front-to-back production of No I.D.: you all know how much I complain about the lack of cohesion in our genre. Plus, Common's best moments always came when he teamed up with a single producer, as made evident by the blazing success of the Kanye West assisted Be, which still ranks as my favorite of his albums. Lonnie isn't my favorite rapper or anything, but he has some undeniably great songs, and his willingness to not only promote, but actually work with young Chicago artists is certainly admirable, even if the overall message (nobody is smiling because Chicago is, like, kinda rough right now) of the album is a little played out. So I'm expecting this to be pretty entertaining.
1. The Neighborhood (Feat. Lil Herb & Cocaine 80s)
This was actually a pretty good way to kick off the album, even with James Fauntleroy's opening lines feeling more than a little unnecessary. (Yeah, wasn't too thrilled about that.) But No I.D.'s instrumental is moving, and gives the immediate vibe that this effort will likely be much more confrontational than their last album. Com's opening verse introduces the project nicely, but its Lil Herb, a rapper that I have consistently labeled the best thing coming out of Chicago right now, who steals the show with a magnificent response to the first stanza. He won't blow your mind with his lyrical mastery, but his flow is fucking vicious, and that's ultimately what makes "The Neighborhood" work. Not bad.
2. No Fear
Common takes the chance to throw in one of the few solo efforts, just to remind everyone that he's still able to carry a song by himself. Probably a good idea. I don't really care for this song, though. It's technically proficient and all, and Lonnie sounds decent enough with his bars (which are on par, if not better than anything on the previous track), but I couldn't get past the looped-up vocal sample of the phrase "what's up." Actually, No I.D.'s entire beat failed to impress me, and that stupid ass sample repeatedly blaring into my ear is really trying my patience. "No Fear" ends up sounding like a bathroom break in between two tracks with powerhouse instrumentals that forcefully steal your attention away from you. Still, I've experienced worse bathroom breaks.
3. Diamonds (Feat. Big Sean)
On paper, I can't think of any reason why I would like "Diamonds", but I do. And honestly, me hearing it as a single is one of the main reasons I picked up Nobody's Smiling in the first place. Dion's instrumental sounds out of place on such a glum album, but by itself, its fantastic. Common's two verses are merely average, but its Big fucking Sean that ends up being the reason I liked this one. Now, don't get me wrong, I still don't like Sean, in fact he's one of my least favorite mainstream rappers, and his hook is frustrating to say the least, especially when he just starts yelling. But he comes around just in time to offer a counter perspective on the album's central conflict. He tones down the usual level of garbage-ness, perhaps due to the severity of the subject at hand, and his behind-the-beat flow works for one of the first times in his career. Still, I'm not the biggest fan of deliberately changing your style in order to cater to a specific audience as a rule, but there are always exceptions for everything, and somehow "Diamonds" qualifies. Just don't go in expecting greatness, and you'll be golden.
4. Black Majik (feat. Jhené Aiko)
For the life of me, I couldn't manage to give a fuck about this song. Sorry, but that's all I got.
5. Speak My Piece
I liked this song okay, but I still walked away from it feeling empty. No I.D.'s instrumental made for an interesting contrast to the rest of the album, while Common's delivery has a loose, nimble quality throughout, his words practically falling over like dominoes. The Biggie sampling seems symbolic of Common's message on this album; back when Com was an emerging rapper, Christopher Wallace powerfully spoke of the same evils that today's Chicago artists wrestle with. Its interesting to see Lonnie try to speak to everyone, offering bits of wisdom for a new generation, while contextualizing with his older fans. My issue was with how bad the rest of Dion's beat was. The stripped-down approach really does our host no favors on this one, and the fact that he let the beat ride out for nearly a minute was obnoxious as shit. How is it possible to enjoy a song and not recommend it to anyone at the same time? I don't know, but here we are.
6. Hustle Harder (feat. Snoh Aalegra and Dreezy)
And just like that, Nobody's Smiling's quality drops significantly. There will always be a time and place for songs like these, and certain rappers are really good at making them sound enjoyable. Common is not one of them. It also doesn't help that the "hook" is so trash that I'm not even going to spend any more time criticizing it. What keeps this song being at least somewhat worth your time is Dreezy's show stealing verse, which keeps the theme of Common getting the shit kicked out of him by features going.
7. Nobody's Smiling (Feat. Malik Yusef)
Nobody's Smiling is certainly a depressing thought (I mean, think about that; not a single person is smiling), so I was really expecting something dark. Dion delivers. His instrumental is fucking mean, and the simplicity he's been leaning towards works better here than it has on any previous point on this album. Common sounds good too, though, delivering two verses of him describing Chicago in the most ruthless way possible, painting an image of despair and a complete lack of happiness, which really leaves nothing to smile about. But, Malik Yuself, man. Holy shit! One of the early G.O.O.D. Music signing, the poet provides what might just be the single best contribution of any guest, as he tackles the album's real central paradoxes: "Now I see how my daddy felt the day he discovered the black power didn't keep the lights on." "They drilling on my land but ain't no oil to be found/ I might be part of the problem." Nice!
8. Real (Feat. Elijah Blake)
The singing on here straddles that fine line between cheesy and heartfelt, nearly tripping over its own shoelaces at times. However, Common's return to his Be style production serves as a comforting blanket after the harshness of the previous song. This is ultimately pretty forgettable, though. This form of Common is always welcome, so I'm not going to complain too much, but maybe this trip down memory lane should have come earlier, and not in the midst of the album's climax. But what do I know about sequencing albums?
9. Kingdom (Feat. Vince Staples)
Runs a bit long, but "Kingdom" is ultimately a really, really good song. No I.D.'s instrumental makes me want to climb to the top of a mountain and punch a bald eagle straight in the face. That's meant to be taken the best way possible, regardless of how it came out. Basically, its epic as fuck. Common takes two more verses to deliver what is basically his ending thesis on the current state of Chicago, and they both sound pretty damn good, but again, and I don't know how in the hell this keeps happening, he gets out-shined by Vince Staples who drops a "Hive"-esque verse. Probably the second best guest contribution next to Malik Yusef's masterpiece of a verse. This was awesome.
10. Rewind That
Ending on that last song would have been a terrific way to wrap things up (nine songs sounds short, but it's not like ten is that big of a difference), but Common takes the risk of closing the show with one of his most personal records in quite some time, reflecting on his relationship with No I.D. and dealing with the death of J Dilla. (The beat is fittingly similar to the Dilla style) Lonnie addresses his own decision to leave the city and people that so greatly shaped the best years of his career. His choice is obviously one he still thinks about today, and with Nobody's Smiling basically being his way of dealing with the situation and paying back his hometown, I couldn't think of a better way for the album to end.
Rating: 3.5/5
Common's Nobody's Smiling has its brilliant moments, but they are somewhat outweighed by Common's duality, his self-imposed obligation to serve his role as both an entertainer and an educator, with neither side ever fulling winning out. Of course, cohesiveness is far from an issue, thanks to our host's insistence on working with a single producer. Consistency, though, is absolutely a problem. For a large majority, Common sounds the exact same he has his entire career: obviously not bad, but not amazing either. I suppose this time his flow has a fluidity that previous projects lacked. So that leaves No I.D. with the hefty tasks of determining the outcome of the album. When his bare-bones production clicks, it really knocks, but when they don't, they drag the fuck on, making for some really boring ass songs. If you're expecting another Resurrection, One Day It'll All Make Sense, Be, or even The Dreamer / The Believer 2: Electric Boogaloo (come on, look at those first three titles and tell me the last one is that far-fetched), you'll walk away disappointed. But the few incredible songs on Nobody's Smiling are well worth making your way through the mediocrity. Seriously, they're pretty damn good.