GZA/Genius - Beneath The Surface

MCA Records: 1999

It was an impossible task. Like, has anyone in the history of hip-hop managed it? I won't deny I haven't heard every rap album ever, with some acts and artists glaring (deliberate?) holes in my accumulated knowledge of that scene. If the self-proclaimed 'Genius' couldn't make the transition from underground critical darling to the mainstream however, what hope have any other, I ask thee? Even the full might of the Wu-Tang Clan had a shaky crossover with Wu-Tang Forever, while only Method Man managed anything considered a successful solo career by that point (maybe ODB too, though more for features). And now the Wu member most known for having the deepest, thought-provoking lyrics was having a stab at commercial success too? Oh dear, this won't go well, will it?

Not that it was a deliberate attempt at crossover success on Mr. Grice's part. Indeed, the very title of GZA's third second album is a not-so subtle analogy at looking for the depth of lyrical content beneath a shiny surface. Unfortunately, the presentation of this album comes off rather muddled, such that the shiny surface is too reflective and distracting. You feel like you should be getting some deeper content out of it, but who can tell when the production is this crisp and clean compared to Liquid Swords. And if we wanted music like that, the 'Puff' Daddy Era was still burning hot (though just about exhausting the last of its fuel). Throw in oddly placed 'skits' of benign-sounding but insidiously predatory corporate ads, and the resultant album is one with good tracks but no flow, ruining much replay value. Despite the title's implication, what you hear is really all you get.

Beneath The Surface provides a perfect example in its opening salvo. Amplified Sample is a solid club banger to kick things off, followed by the moodier, street-tales titular cut featuring string loops right out of a 'Shaolin' slums scene. Then, two skits, followed by another club banger in Crash Your Crew. Rinse, repeat, and it doesn't feel like I'm getting the same deep insights and clever wordplay as Liquid Swords anymore. Much less the classic RZA production either, mostly stepping back while his assortment of proteges take over the console (Mathematics, Arabian Knight, Inspectah Deck, others). Nor are there many members and affiliates of the Wu making guest spots either (Masta Killa, Method Man, and Killah Priest the most prominent of the bunch). All par for the course when it comes to this era of Wu-Tang solo projects, true, but all reasons folks consider these years the start of the Clan's decline.

If anything, Beneath The Surface cemented those hushed whispers into general discourse, what with it failing to fulfill the hype expected of it. And despite multiple tries at hearing more beneath its surface, my impression of the album hasn't changed in two decades. Maybe I'm just too dumb, but my thoughts aren't uncommon. Still, d'at building bass in High Price, Small Reward tho'!

GZA/Genius - Pro Tools

Babygrande: 2008

It’s January, which means its GZA/Genius month again! What do you mean I just made that up? Didn’t you notice I reviewed two albums from Mr. Grice last January? And here we are again, one year later, with another GZA LP lined up. Why, should I carry on reviewing my music library from the alphabetical beginning again (for completist sake, obviously), I’ll be reviewing Beneath The Surface come next January too! Don’t laugh, odds are very good it’ll be close to that time. Wait, does that mean I’ll be done my main run this year? Holy cow, I just might! Haha, the insanity will finally end, haha, ha!

Anyhow, let me quickly consult my Wu-Tang Timeline for a refresher of where Pro Tools lands within the group’s lengthy lore. Uh huh, right, this album came out after 8 Diagrams, as divisive a Clan joint as any, but hinting at a possible resurgence. Ooh, this was also around the time Mr. Grice was getting a little buzz again for inflammatory things said about Soulja Boy and 50 Cent. He put an end to the Crank That kid controversy as nothing more than playful back-and-forth with a hot tempered crowd, but flat out disses the G-Unit dude with Paper Plate on this album. Of course, considering The Genius’ rep’ as a premier lyricist remains unchallenged while the other two are thought of as over-hyped rappers of the ‘00s, the whole issue is moot.

Still, that gossipy nonsense did give Pro Tools a small bump of interest for hip-hop heads outside the core Wu followers. Most were fine with the notion the Clan's best days were all but behind them (except Ghostface), but after so many years of southern crunk and auto-tune infiltrating the rap scene at large, any sort of underground vibe where lyrical mastery took center-stage would be hailed as a solid LP. GZA thus provided exactly what old-school sorts wanted, and Pro Tools was proclaimed among the best solo Wu-Tang LPs of the '00s. Not that it had much competition in that category, mind you.

Honestly, this is a difficult album to recommend for a casual consumer, as there's little on Pro Tools I'd call essential listening. Most of the beats are simple and serviceable, mostly sticking to traditional Wu-Tang banger “samurai 'n' soul” stylee (you know what I'm talking about). RZA and Masta Killa show up in the opener Pencils, and that's about it for the main Clan roster guest verses (assorted third-tier MCs crop up throughout, but none make much of a mark with their time). The only sort of theme to this album is a loose thread regarding motor sports, of all things. For the most part though, it's GZA running through topics he's covered extensively in the past, in about as skillfully class as a veteran MC could do in the late '00s. If all this sounds A-plus to you, then you’ll definitely dig Pro Tools. It’s throwback Wu at its finest.

GZA/Genius - Liquid Swords

Geffen Records

The only solo-Wu album you're supposed to have, if you're any kind of fan of the Wu-Tang Clan. Yeah, yeah, you can point to plenty other albums as strong offerings from the group, though Liquid Swords almost unanimously holds a Top 5 position regardless. What separates this one from, say, Only Built For Cuban Linx or Supreme Clientele, is it’s as much a RZA album as it is a showcase of The Genius’, erm, lyrical genius. He’d had over two years to refine the minimalist, grimy, funk-soul groove by way of kung-fu style pioneered with Enter The Wu-Tang Clan, thus Liquid Swords comes of like the Wu-Tang album RZA could have made if he’d waited a little longer to unleash his master project.

True, Bobby Steele had worked on Method Man and Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s solo albums in that time, but those seemed custom tailored to each of their personalities. Gary Grice, on the other hand, was on a comparable wavelength with his cousin in where the two hoped to take the Wu’s style, so it makes sense his first solo outing as GZA ended rich with the chop-socky mysticism and dark-as-fuck music.

My God, I could go on forever about how awesome these tracks are! Gold’s cold, operatic backing with a piecing whine; smooth as satin pianos in Duel Of The Iron Mic; the clumpity rhythms and twitchy synths of Killah Hills 10304; the guitar plucks and desolate emptiness of Cold World. And that’s just the music. GZA’s great as always with what he brings to the mic, and the rest of the Wu (all contribute in some way, though some more than others) are all still in mid-‘90s hungry mode, A-games from the whole damn Clan.

Okay, the album’s brilliance is common knowledge, accepted lore, and biological fact. I’m adding nothing here by repeating the Liquid Swords narrative. I wonder, though, of a review impossibility: someone who loved Mr. Grice’s first album, Words From The Genius, but loathed this one. I wonder... *cue Wayne’s World fade*

And gangsta rap claims another promising young hip-hop artist. It was ridiculous enough that Will Smith and Jazzy Jeff did it, but someone calling himself The Genius shouldn’t be elaborating street violence and drug deals. Well, okay, he did on his excellent debut album too, but at least Life Of A Drug Dealer retained Cold Chillin’s excellent upbeat, funky production. The music on Liquid Swords is so depressing and gloomy. Even the opening titular cut, the funkiest old-school track on here, is undone by bookending it with that samurai movie dialog.

Content aside, I guess The Genius – sorry, The GZA - still sounds as good as he did on his debut, but he hardly gets a chance to shine solo, tons of guest versus from that Wu-Tang group he’s now hanging with showing up. Man, what happened, Gary? You could have kept the old-school party vibes alive, not jump on this slummy bandwagon.

Mm, yeah, well maybe not.

GZA/Genius - Legend Of The Liquid Sword

MCA Records: 2002

We're long past the age where most post-millennial Wu-Tang solo albums are met with disappointment. Now, articles crop up of looking back at potential overlooked gems, of which there were a few, let’s be honest. Everyone kept expecting the Clan members to continue their mid-‘90s brilliance, all the while bypassing several solid hip-hop albums in their own right. And poor Gary Grice, did he ever get passed by. Beneath The Surface generated some initial excitement, true, and his work with DJ Muggs on Grandmasters got briefly hyped as well, but his other two albums not so much.

Yet while Pro Tools has recently gained some level of respect, Legend Of The Liquid Swords remains one of GZA’s least talked about albums. For the love of me, I cannot understand why. Did it come out at the wrong time? I’ll grant 2002 was not a good year to be making a lyrically conscious album when the burgeoning hot raps consisted mostly of “WHO! WHAT! WHEN! WHERE!”, but surely anything The Genius had to say should have turned heads.

Oh, I’m sure it did, but as all things Wu related during those times, if it wasn’t on par with the ‘90s material, it just didn’t matter. Legend Of The Liquid Swords is damn good, offering about what you’d expect of an eastcoast lyrical showcase, but the beats are mostly bare with funk and soul loops, allowing GZA the room to tell his tales. Tired in the early 2000s? Perhaps, what with Neptunes and Timbaland taking hip-hop down strange new roads (to say nothing of that Kanye kid Roc-A-Fella had behind the decks). DJ Premier and The RZA may have set a standard the decade prior, but the kids wanted new shit. Unfortunately, shit is what they mostly got in the following years (hiya, Soulja Boy).

Gladly, what may have sounded dated in 2002 comes off vintage all these years later – oh hindsight bias, never will you do me wrong! I honestly don’t think regular Wu-fans cared anyway, as when it comes to a GZA album, it’s always about the lyrics. And I can’t find Mr. Grice at fault on anything. Whether waxing nostalgic about the old days (Auto Bio, Fam that also features RZA and Masta Killa, and Sparring Minds with Inspectah Deck), detailing shady record business activities (Did You Say That, Knock Knock), or displaying wizardry with his words (everything!), GZA offers plenty for that intellectual side of your brain. Even the ‘fun’ track Fame is genius, using celebrity names to tell his story. Sample: “Larry’s Bird flew outta Nicholas’ Cage; Joe Tex messages from Satchel’s Paige; Betty Wrights letters with ink from Sean’s Penn; Infinite bars, you couldn’t tell where the song end; Glenn Close enough to quickly duck the tapes; Richard Gere ripped while he was climbin’ Bill Gates.”

Legend Of The Liquid Swords wouldn’t do much for the Wu-Tang Legacy, but it does sit nicely as a companion piece to GZA’s body of work.