Czarface & MF Doom - Super What?

Silver Age: 2021

I wouldn't go so far as to say this album had a lot of hype behind it, but boy were music journalists ever eager to talk about it. As the first posthumous record of the late MF Doom, how could folks not want to get their say in? Hell, even Resident Advisor reviewed this record, and they barely touch hip-hop at all! Yeah, some UK grime or avante-garde rap makes their rounds, but Czarface has been unapologetically traditionalist, purely boom-bap brags with liberal amounts of nerdcore references. Mind, I could see RA covering the mythical Madvillainy 2, because everyone wants to cover that one. If the second 'Czar Meets Metal' album is what they have to settle on, so be it.

And you may be thinking I'm a hypocrite because I'm also covering Super What? Yes, though I'm two years late to the table, but that's beside the point. I got this because I'm a Czarface fan, and while I haven't gotten every one of their records, their collaborative ones have been pretty cool – MF Doom being part of the package is just a nice bonus. I realize it's almost hearsay not putting Daniel Dumile above Inspectah Deck, Esoteric, and 7L, and I can only claim ignorance on my part for that. I simply haven't properly dove into Doom's work yet. Some day though, it shall be done. Maybe while 'sportsing'.

Besides, if you think prioritizing Czarface over MF Doom is hearsay, then you'll just love the actual reason I was hype in getting this album, as Del Tha Funkee Homosapien makes an appearance. Long-time readers of this blog know my ultimate 'dream match' rap is one where Del and Deck trade bars over some dope beats, and here it is! Right, the track it happens on, Jason And The Czargonauts, has them separated by two other verses from Eso' and Doom. Nor is there much of a big deal made about him being on said track, coming off like he just happened to be on hand to drop a verse. Still... Doom! Del! Deck! Together at last! (and Esoteric too).

As for the rest of Super What?, it's a rather brief affair, ten tracks long, twenty-six minutes in length, including an instrumental where a pile of interview clips play. The beats boom and bap as with the best of 7L's work, Deck and Doom do their thing as always, and Eso' manages to sneak in some of my favourite out-of-nowhere lines (“Yo, I heard your crew was poppin' shit; I caught 'em and I made 'em cry; Like ads for dog adoption from Sarah McLachlan”).

If you're looking/hoping for a Doom magnum opus that sends him off high, this simply isn't it, because no one involved had any idea this might be his last recordings. Super What? is what it is, another solid outing from the Czar Meets Metal team-up. One that got a lot more attention than folks could have predicted due to events outside their control.

Czarface & Ghostface - Czarface Meets Ghostface

Silver Age: 2019

If any of the Wu needed an official full-length, super-sized cross-over event with Czarface, it'd be Ghostface. Similarity in names aside, Dennis Coles' alias has seen many iterations over the years, including multiple outlandish tales of origin. I don't know if the Ghostface we get is a whole new version or a returning one, though I could see the ghetto vigilante of 36 Seasons working here, as that one had a rather comic book origin story itself (lab experiments gone wrong, never gets old). Does make me wonder who else from the Wu might show up for a Czarface cross-over such as this, with a comic-ready backstory. Bobby Digital? Golden Arms? The Genius as one of those big-headed ultra-beings? Method Man as... Bluntman?

That isn't to say Czar Meets Ghost is some epic narrative of the two combining forces to take on injustices inflicted upon the streets and beyond. I mean, that would be dope as all Hell, but the group helmed by Inspectah Deck, Esoteric, and 7L still have yet to fully capitalize on the concept, so why would they here? Or maybe they have, and I just haven't heard it yet. There's been two more Czarface records since the MF Doom cross-over that I've yet to check out, some even coming with an included comic book. Ooh, The Odd Czar Against Us has a Days Of Future Past homage on the cover. 'Tis tempting...

For a supposed cross-over event though, Face n' Face doesn't feature as much Ghost' as you'd expect. Heck, the Killah is totally absent in a number of tracks, which I guess makes this more of a Czarface album, with Ghostface appearing on about two-thirds of it. Like, he's an apparition, or something (especially at the end of Masked Superstars, almost invoking 12 Reasons To Die). It's great hearing him when he does, his presence dragging this project deep into the slums of Shaolin.

Credit also given to 7L for coming up beats that suit the street-soul Ghost is well known for. Like, holy cow, that Mongolian Beef cut at the end, already a remarkably grimey bit of business, but the ganky soul-funk that bridges everyone's verses is permanently seared into my grey matter. Elsewhere, Morning Ritual features a rhythm and gnarly bassline that sounds like its constantly tripping over itself, suitable for a tune about sunrise regrets. The King Heard Voices brings even more great bass-stomp, while Listen To The Color has plenty of room to switch things up from gritty funk to slummy soul (no Ghost on that one tho'). This strong run of final tracks more than makes up for the album's somewhat sluggish start. Not that it takes long to get there, Czarface Meets Ghostface a rather short LP.

Still, 'tis better to get in with the dope cuts and out leaving them wanting more, than linger far beyond the concept needs. Even if that concept is nothing more than Deck and Eso' hanging out with GFK down in the slums for a late-night indulgence of hot noodle soup.

Method Man & Redman - Blackout!

Def Jam 2000: 1999

I'm not sure where this album sits in the Grand Rap Pantheon anymore. I recall it was a big deal during the lead-up. Meth and Red had a huge collaborative hit in How High, dropping in that oh-so glorious year of hip-hop fire, 1995. And while Method Man's solo career stalled throughout the '90s, Redman kept a steady clip of respected albums going, so a proper full-length outing from the two would be hotly anticipated. Only, in typical Johnny Blaze fashion, the LP dropped nearly half a decade after How High lit up, causing some to lose interest in this collaboration in the process. Let's call those people 'sour pusses'.

So Blackout! finally dropped, and even though folks were wondering if Method Man had fallen off, or if any Wu project could have the same fire as earlier in the decade, it sold buckets. Clearly they still liked Method Man anytime he held the mic or guested on other verses. Surely his charisma would properly shine with an equally skilled microphone commander at his side, the two trading sharp barbs and chin-checka' raps and such. Or the two had been getting so smoked out in the interim, putting this off for so long, that the final result was an album that was good enough, but not the head-banging classic everyone expected. Again, I'm not sure how Blackout! is regarded these days, but man, did it ever feel like a whiff of THC-thick air bellowing out of a bong mere weeks after this came out. They came, they smoked, they rapped, they partied, then they kinda' forgot what the fuss was about in the first place. Oh well, time to start shopping about that script for their own Cheech & Chong movie.

I sense Meth and Red would be fun live, most of the tracks on here little more than party anthems for them to rappity-rap over. Yeah, there's some witty wordplay and fun puns about, but these two aren't going to get super deep with the heavy political or lyrical miracles. Just two stoners going on about how dope they are, how dope their smoked dope be, and how much they love gettin' down with them ladies and hos. So long as the beats bang, they can rap about any ol' nonsense. And that's where I feel this album stumbles some.

There's quite the assortment of Wu and Def Squad personnel behind the consoles on Blackout!, including RZA, Erick Sermon, Mathematics, and Reggie Noble. Even Rockwilder shows up (on Da Rockwilder), while features have Ghostface, Street Life, LL Cool J, Missy Elliot, and Ja Rule, when he was still credible. Seems all fine, but neither guest rapper or beat producer do much to outshine whatever Method Man and Redman are going on about. Which would be fine, if the duo were dropping relentless fire throughout. Instead, all I hear is the hot flame in a burning bowl of dank bud, soon puffed out into a stoned stupor. Seems appropriate.

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'!

Raekwon - Shaolin Vs. Wu-Tang

Ice H2o Records: 2011

Sometime last year, I stumbled upon a YouTube video where Raekwon was tasked with ranking all of his albums. What a wonderful concept, thinks I! Sure, you could argue an artist will unequivocally praise everything they release, but if put to the grinder with some proper self-critical honesty, surely some interesting results may come about. Like, how would someone like Neil Young, with his extensive discography, rank his albums? Even he's admitted when some records don't turn out as well as hoped though, so what about a producer who only knows how to blow smoke up their own ass? You know, the Armins and Tiestos of the world.

Anyhow, Raekwon's self-summary didn't reveal that many surprises (even he thinks Immobilarity was a disappointment), but it did clue me into a bunch of his records I had totally forgotten. Yes, even with all the entries at Lord Discogs. Too many mixtapes among the official albums, see, making me wonder what is what and all that rot. His ranking video at least parred things some, with this particular Shaolin Vs. Wu-Tang coming in high near the top of his picks (nothing was gonna' dethrone Only Built For Cuban Linx).

I do recall seeing some stuff about this album, but figured it just another in an endless stream of mixtapes the Chef was cooking up around the time. Rather, this was his attempt to bring the classic, gritty Wu-Tang street style back to the fore', as he believed RZA had led the group too far astray with his musical indulgences. Bold moves, but at some point even the disciples must challenge The Abbot, and with the blessings of RZA's many producing proteges (Alchemist, Mathematics, Bronze Nazareth) plus seasoned vets of hip-hop (Erick Sermon, Scram Jones, DJ Khalil, many others...), this looked to be a dope round of vintage Wu bangers indeed.

And the titular opener starts with those classic chop-sockey samples setting the theme, then urgent strings with thumping beats hit as Rae's flow is focused and commanding. Why does it sound like he's skipping a word or two like he's catching his breath though? It continues into Every Soldier In The Hood, and when Method Man's verse comes in with a third of the words snuffed out, a cold realization hits me: I've ended up with a busted-ass 'clean' version of this album! Bloody Hell, no wonder it was so cheap on Amazon.

Well, that's a bummer. How can I enjoy an album with so many missing lyrics? Why make such a version? Seriously, who's gonna' buy any edited version of a slummy hip-hop album, especially one with hardly a hope of crossover appeal? At least there's an uncensored Spotify option, but man, Shaolin vs. Wu-Tang had no hope of making a solid first impression upon me because of this. Even more damning is, as a long time Wu-Tang fan, there's a lot to like here, but my CD copy will never get another spin. Denied a proper play-through on my proper sound-system, forever.

Wu-Tang Clan - 8 Diagrams

Universal Motown: 2007

RZA was scoring movies. GZA was rapping about cars. Method Man was more interested in acting. Raekwon was holding out on the album everyone wanted from him. Masta Killa had a surprisingly solid debut though, and Ghostface was flying high, but overall, things weren't looking so hot for the Wu-Tang Clan. Then ODB died, and folks wondered if that would be the final wound that would end the hip-hop juggernaut. Fools. This, above all else, was the rallying cry to bring the Clan back together, in honour of their fallen brother. Proving all their doubters wrong that their time had passed probably wasn't a bad motivator either.

They had to find themselves in a bit of a pickle though. Hip-hop was a far different beast in the year 2007 compared to their '90s heyday. Crunk was now the hottest shit on the market. Meanwhile, Kanye West had almost single-handily put gangsta' rap to rest after beating 50 Cent in their duel of market supremacy (the infamous Graduation - Curtis showdown). Did the Wu have anything fresh on offer in this new world?

The RZA certainly did, in that he'd amassed an arsenal of instruments, offering more creative freedom than he'd ever had before. There's still funk and soul samples throughout 8 Diagrams, but unlike days of old where they'd be looped over a twitchy beat, there's more freeform funk going on here as instruments strut their stuff. It was a significant step forward in RZA's songcraft, though not everyone was entirely on board with it, Ghostface and Raekwon especially vocal about their concern over this change of musical direction for the Clan.

I can understand why. Musically, 8 Diagrams is a creative album, with plenty of strange, warped twists and turns of funk and soul coming at you. Unfortunately, it kinda' overshadows what the actual MCs of Wu-Tang bring to the table. Everyone sounds fine and all, some members more fired than their solo stuff (Method Man, Deck), though lacking much evolution in their usual topics of street tales, battle-raps, and livin' large. Plus, the bangers on this album don't go as hard as some of their classic material, tracks like Rushing Elephants and Wolves oddly muted for the energy they're trying to generate. The only time things get proper-Wu hard is Stick Me For My Riches, where Mathematics brings southern bounce to the party. Also, with so much musical exploration on RZA's part, the album doesn't really coalesce into anything more than an assemblage of tracks for their own sake. Aside from proving they were still kicking it, there's no real 'statement' being made about hip-hop at large by the Wu-Tang Clan here, as so many had expected

Ultimately though, 8 Diagrams is worth having just for the final track, Life Changes. Here, the Wu offer their final farewell to the deceased Russel Jones, one of the most heartbreaking pieces of hip-hop I've ever heard. You just ain't human if you don't feel something welling up from this song.

Raekwon - The Wild

Empire: 2017

I feel neglectful when it comes to Raekwon. It was his Immobilarity that opened my eyes to all that hip-hop could be in terms of narratives, and both Cuban Linx albums are stone-cold classics in the Wu pantheon. Unfortunately, his other albums don't spark much interest in yours truly. It's not that I doubt his verbal skills on any of his projects, but I've been burned a few too many times on 'mediocre Wu' to scope out everything all these MCs release. Rae's no less immune to the syndrome, a lesson learned with The Lex Diamond Story. Unless he's bringing something dope to the table with production to back it up that gets the knowledgeable heads I trust talking, I give his stuff a pass.

Turns out Mr. Woods has released an album that's gotten knowledgeable heads talking, or at least positively buzzing to such a degree that I haven't seen since Cuban Linx, Pt. 2. While by no means is it being hyped to Cuban Linx levels (because really, the only thing that could generate such talk is a Part 3), I figured it was about time I got myself re-associated with The Chef in The Wild.

And this... this is pretty darn good! Mind, I'd never go into a Raekwon joint expecting something revolutionary, not at this late stage of his career. Just bring me more of those vintage storytelling raps with witty street slang and a slew of solid beats to back them up, and I'm more than sated. Rae' easily delivers on the lyrical front, providing his usual assortment of street tales, reflective raps, and braggadocios boasts about living and maintaining his good life after so many years in the game. I was particularly thrown for a loop on Marvin, a retelling of the life of Gaye with Cee-Lo Green belting out a chorus as only he can. Where did Rae' find the inspiration to rap about that tale of triumph and tragedy? And damn, does producer Frank G ever provide the perfect soul loop for this tune (not to mention his other contribution of Nothing - methinks he gets Rae's vibe quite well indeed).

The soul loops mostly dominate The Wild, which makes sense as Mr. Woods' own flow has taken on something of a mellow, husky soul itself as he's aged. He still finds time to fit in with current trends though, including a twitchy, synth-heavy cut with Lil' Wayne in My Corner (he don't rap much of anything new, but he does sound good rapping it), a gothic tune with synthy choirs and organs in M&N with P.U.R.E. (don't know him), and a slice of trap in You Hear Me to close The Wild out. It's... fine for trap, I guess? Doesn't really fit with the rest of Rae's vibe on this album though, especially as a closer. Don't worry, Shallah, you don't have to jump on every trend with your work. Like, no one remembers that 'crunk' jam off Lex Diamond.

Ghostface Killah & Adrian Younge - Twelve Reasons To Die II

Linear Labs: 2015

Aawww yeah, you knew this concept was too good for just one album's worth of material. It was clear as a desert day that Adrian Younge and Ghostface Killah had great chemistry together, that they should work together on another project. So they reconvened a couple years later to tell another tale about twelve ways to die, this time with Ghost's old partner in prime, Raekwon. For the spirit of Tony Starks (Ghost's mobster alias) could not completely rest, his soul still trapped in those vinyl records his body was cremated into, waiting to emerge again should some poor sap spin them once more.

Fast forward a few years, and while tales of the Ghostface Killah taking out members of the DeLuca family in Italy persist, it didn't impact their syndicates across the globe, including a stronghold in New York City. As the '70s took hold and inner city black communities started gaining more influence, one man rose through the ranks to create his own mob fiefdom, Raekwon's character of Lester Kane in this tale. Gee, the Chef playing a mafioso type? Who'd have thought!

Natrually, a turf war breaks out. One of Kane's raids lands him a treasure trove of stolen goods from his enemies, including the legendary records said to hold the spirit of the Ghostface Killah (who's been idling away watching events unfold – this is technically a Ghostface album, so things are mostly told from his perspective). Also captured is Logan, the woman who betrayed Tony Starks to the DeLucas, plus her son who just may be his illegitimate child. When the DeLucas retaliate, however, they wipe out Kane's family too, urging Rae' to strike a deal with the devil: he'll release Ghostface from the record, and in exchange for gaining his power to exact his revenge, the spirit of Stark will take over Kane's body, killing him in the process.

Considering how tied the two have been throughout their careers, the symbolism of Ghostface and Raekwon merging into a single being to do dastardly deeds seems appropriate. In a surprise twist though, Ghost' reneges on the deal, instead taking over the body of... his own son! Hey, this still is a gothic horror tale, in the end!

*whew* Quite a recap there, and if it seems I skimmed over details, I didn't that much. Twelve Reasons To Die II is shockingly short as an album, barely a half-hour long. I was honestly slightly disappointed I didn't hear more from Rae' on this, nor was I too fussed with the guest rappers (mostly playing roles of each crime family's goons). Still, Adrian's score of blaxploitation funk and spooky soul remains ace, playing all the instruments, at times sounding like vintage RZA with Ghost' riding the beats. A couple more tracks of Ghost'kwon (Rae'face?) enacting their revenge would have made this better, but it's still a gripping ride nonetheless. Not sure where they can take the story after this though, if Starks is resurrected and all.

Various - Wu-Tang Meets The Indie Culture

Babygrande Music: 2005

When I was in the throes of my hip-hop honeymoon, two groups ruled supreme as all that was great within the genre. You know who these two groups are, because I've constantly name-dropped them for as long as this blog's been active again (five years, oh good God...). And as any 'young rap fan' can attest to, when you start following groups, you start thinking up potential pair-offs between them, like comic super-team cross-overs. How dope, thought Year 2000 Sykonee, would it be for Del Tha Funkee Homosapien and Inspectah Deck to trade lyrical atomic bombs! Casual and ODB riding a warped rhythm with their rugged, warbling flows! Souls Of Mischief sharing street tales with Ghostface and Raekwon! A-Plus and True Mathematics blending samples! Never mind the Wu and Hiero ran in such drastically different hip-hop spheres that these pairings could never to happen - I could at least dream of them.

And then it did happen! ...kind of. While not a full-on collaboration, the fact I'm holding a CD that includes Del, Casual, GZA, RZA, and U-God in the tracklist feels like a minor miracle in of itself. I guess having MF Doom, Ras Kass, Aesop Rock, Prodigal Sunn, R.A. The Rugged Man, J-Live, plus others is a nice bonus, if you're down for such acts too.

Wu-Tang Meets The Indie Culture is the brainchild of Dreddy Kruger, who appeared on a couple Wu affiliated tracks, but settled into an A&R role for the franchise, producing compilations and the like. When he launched his own print in Think Differently, he wished to bring more underground acts to the light, and figured mixing 'backpacker' rap acts with Wu-Tang stars was a good way of doing so. Providing the bulk of beats for all these MCs to spit their bars over is Bronze Nazareth, who's had a decent career in his own right following this record. He certainly gets the Wu aesthetic as laid out by The Abbot, funk and soul samples looping over gritty or smooth rhythms, as per each cut's lyrical context. Oh, and RZA handled his own 'blaxpoitation' beat for his team-up with MF Doom in Biochemical Equation, though the infamous masked MC lacks much spark in his verse. Kinda' happens when the 'collaboration' doesn't require everyone to be present in a studio.

That's unfortunately the vibe I get from Wu-Tang Meets The Indie Culture - a lot of disparate acts doing their minimum best for the project before they moved on to their own interests. There isn't anything wack on this CD, but nor does it elevate much higher than whatever excited ideas were probably germinating in your mind from the core concept.

Still, Dreddy Kruger believed in it enough to get enough recognizable names involved, his enthusiasm coming through in the paragraphs of liner notes. The highest praise I can give this is Wu-Tang Meets The Indie Culture is it's the best 'third tier' Wu project I've ever heard, though my sample-size is minuscule.

Wu-Tang Clan - Wu-Tang Forever

Loud Records: 1997

The Wu-Tang Clan's sophomore album couldn't help but be a double-LP. I mean, it was already The Thing to do for most rappers of note in the mid-'90s (Tupac, Biggie, Bone Thugs, Master P), but at least it made sense for this dynamic group. Their debut Enter The Wu-Tang was as perfect an album as any dropped in hip-hop's history, and the half-dozen solo records from various members after proved there was no lack of dope material in their ranks. After so much unprecedented success as a rap conglomerate, they absolutely deserved more room to breathe, letting all these MCs have more opportunities to shine on the mic, and celebrate The RZA's five year plan coming to fruition. Concerns about filler and bloat? Oh come on, how could the Wu Empire falter in their moment of triumph, especially after such a glorious lead single in Triumph?

And CD1 doesn't disappoint, almost a strong album experience in of itself. Yeah, the overlong Wu-Revolution opener reeks of pretentious hubris, that the Wu nation is willing to sit through a nearly seven-minute long sermon from Papa Wu. On the other hand, it does set a tone that the Clan is aware of social issues impacting black communities, and that they aren't gonna' just be another bunch of rappers glamorizing gangsta' lifestyles. Cool, but now that you've cleared your conscience, RZA, how about bringing the motha'fuckin' ruckus again? He done does that, Reunited showing off his newfound twitchy-soul production chops, follow-up For Heaven's Sake bringing the ghetto-grime to the fore, As High As Wu-Tang Get a fun bit of bouncy funk, Maria a boozy-woozy fest, and It's Yourz a good ol' stompin' crowd anthem.

And the rest of the Clan bring killer material to CD1 too, some of their all-time greatest lines ever dropped here (GZA: “Too many songs with weak rhymes is mad long; Make it brief, son - half short, twice strong.”). MCs that didn't much get spotlight in 36 Chambers have equal opportunities among the established stars, and a decent range of topics are covered among the ten tracks (lyrical showcases, street tales, conscious slabs, slum love, etc.). The only thing missing from CD1 is a definitive, stone-cold classic cut, but then they had to save something for CD2.

Disc number two starts off strong as well, Triumph the kick-off, followed by Impossible containing what RZA considers “one of the illest verses of all time”, Ghostface Killah vividly narrating the last moments spent with a dying friend on the street. Unfortunately, this is where that anticipated bloat starts to settle in, a run of average, oddball tracks leading to a slog of hip-hop between the islands of right dope shit (harrowing Little Ghetto Boys, ODB's wonderfully unhinged Dog Sh*t, the orchestral punch of Heaterz). Cheekily, the closing ghetto-soul of Second Coming is strictly handled by vocalist Tekitha, with nary a Clan member in sight.

CD2 is essentially a glorified B-side, but as mentioned, Wu-Tang Forever is easily worth the admission price for CD1.

Wu-Tang Clan - The W

Loud Records: 2000

The first proper Wu-Tang Clan album I bought for myself, and not a bad one at that, but I can already hear the “tut-tut”ing from long time disciples. Why not get Enter 36 Chambers first, as you're supposed to do even if you're not a fan or the Wu-Tang Clan? Well, as the first Wu record I ever bought was The RZA Hits, it felt redundant springing for another record that had nearly half the same tracks on it (I was stupid for thinking that). Second, The W came out the following year I fell sway to the charms of hip-hop, so it was only logical I scoped that shit out post-haste, my honeymoon glow still preventing any sense of critical consideration.

The W has gone on to be one of the Clan's most difficult albums to talk about, in that it seems everyone has utterly conflicting feelings about it. They love that it's pared down to an easily digestible hour-long effort, yet surely the group had more to offer than just this? It's nifty hearing guest spots from other prominent rappers, but aren't they taking the limelight away from all the talent already within the group itself? All Clan members sound matured, sharp and on point, with even some of the weaker members finally coming into their own as lyricists, but have lost that spitting Hell-fire of their debut in the process. How great it is to hear the Wu over RZA beats for a full album (save a lone Mathematics cut), but only around half the tracks are actually memorable. Let's detail couple now!

Chamber Music: urgent strings with crackly samples. Careful (Click, Click): herky-jerky, sample-snapping, creepy woodwinds; definitely feels like you're in a claustrophobic gun-toting, warzone. Protect Ya Neck (The Jump Off): bouncy, loopy, with a great key-change mid-track, ruined by a lame U-God brag verse. Gravel Pit: even bouncier, a track totally aimed for the club, but at least RZA freely admits its intents, so it's a lot of fun (looks like they had fun playing cavemen in the video too).

Then there are weaker cuts, like the endlessly looping soul sample from Hollow Bones, and the plodding *thump-thump clap-clap* of One Blood Under W with Junior Reed. Ah well, the famed dancehall toaster gets a better track to close the album out on with the mournful Jah World. Speaking of guests, Snoop Dogg inexplicably appears with ODB in Conditioner with a bog-standard 'pimpz & hoes' verse. Okay, that's not accurate, the Dirt Dawg recording through a jail phone booth, hence the low-grade quality. I guess RZA realized there wasn't enough material there for a track, but Year 2000 Snoop's the last person up to the task of pinch-hitting for the Wu.

Okay, enough gripes. I do enjoy more than dislike stuff on The W, even if it comes off like much of the Clan's best material was now behind them. Then again, some of Method Man's lyrics in hidden track Clap have forever stuck with me. I don't know why.

Inspectah Deck - Uncontrolled Substance

Sony Music Entertainment: 1999

As a rebel without a cause, Inspectah Deck leads the charge, forever one of Wu-Tang Clan’s most fiery spitters, but rushing into battle with no clear objective. He’ll drop that philosophical bomb atomically, but what of the follow-through? With a half-dozen albums deep of evidence, he seldom seemed capable of sustaining that first-strike verbal carnage into a lasting campaign. At least, that used to be the charge laid upon one Mr. Hunter, but his recent work as Czarface having redeemed a solo career that never delivered the classic record hip-hop heads expected of him. Who knew adopting the persona of a cyborg crime-fighting mafia-don that can shoot frickin’ laser beams from his eyes would do the trick? I think Czarface is all about that, if the art is anything to go by. I should look into it.

For now though, let’s check out Uncontrolled Substance, Inspectah’s debut from 1999, four years overdue and coming out when Wu-Tang hype was on the wane. Even getting the whole Clan in to help on a project was proving difficult at that point, most members focusing on solo work while building up their own protégés. Compounding problems further for the Rebel INS was the fact the early demo beats RZA had written for his debut were lost in a studio flood, forcing that album to be scrapped and started over. Yes, we were denied vintage mid-‘90s RZA beats with Deck undoubtedly spitting fire over them all, with the full Clan in support.

Instead, we get okay beats from RZA protégés 4th Disciple and True Master, though Deck’s own productions outshine most of theirs. RZA himself provides a pair of beats too, though are far from his glorious early, gritty sounds. Guest spots from the Wu fam’ are sadly minimal, with U-God and Masta Killa only offering a couple verses, and a few additional guest spots from second-tier affiliates like Street Life and Killa Sin.

Ultimately, it’s all on the Rebel INS to carry Uncontrolled Substance, and he does excel there, mostly dominated by battle-raps no one else in the Clan can top, with other stuff mixing things up throughout. There’s hood tales like Word On The Street and Trouble Man (with Pete Rock funk at the board on that one); clubbier offerings like R.E.C. Room and Movas & Shakers (why can’t I ever get Deck’s lyrics of “Bartender! Two Kahlua and milk with crushed ice in the blender” out of my head?); conscious diatribes like The Cause and Elevation (with a Deck beat that was reused in Ghostface’s Supreme Clientele); and some jams for the ladies too (Lovin You, Forget Me Not, and the slinky noir-funk of Femme Fatale… wait, that’s two reviews in a row with a Femme Fatale… the odds, mang!). Strangely, it’s a couple interludes, where Inspectah’s freestyling over a pounding 808 beat, that get me charged the most. They’re only ten seconds each, but damn if I wouldn’t pay good money to hear a full record of that!

Ghostface Killah & Adrian Younge - Twelve Reasons To Die

Soul Temple Records: 2013

Mr. Coles could keep making Ghostface origin-story albums until the end of his life, never running out of fresh angles on the subject. And really, what else is there left to rap about as the G.F. Killah? Most of his early material centred on standard hip-hop topics: street tales, mafiaso aspirations, commanding the microphone with skill above his peers, bragging about his success in sales, within the sheets, and all that good stuff. However, no matter how impeccable Ghostface presents the material, it does grow repetitive after a while when the subject’s been so thoroughly covered for over two-decades now. So, instead of rapping about all that real shit, let’s get conceptual and rap about blaxploitation vigilante stories or Italian mobster horror stories, all linked by how the Ghostface Killah came into being. Sounds like fun!

This story goes as thus. Tony Starks (Mr. Coles’ mafiaso alias) raised through the mob ranks from hired hitman to self-made man. This naturally pissed off all the DeLuca old guard, and Ghost’ doesn’t mince words in how his skin color added extra fuel to the ensuing turf wars. How dare a black man gain so much power, but there’s little they can do about it, Tony’s influence growing ever stronger in the lands of gangster clichés. Everyone has their weakness though, and sure enough, Starks is lured into a trap by a femme fatale, taken out like so many Scarfaces. In typical high-mobster fashion though, it’s not enough to execute him on the spot, his enemies concocting a ridiculous post-death humiliation. His remains are melted down into vinyl, pressed into twelve records owned by those who perpetrated the crime. Damn, I bet those slabs of wax go for just as much as that one-copy Wu-Tang Clan album.

Well, buyer beware, for there’s a twist to this story benefiting an episode of Tales From The Crypt. Turns out Starks’ spirit endured, haunting the records such that should you play one of them, he’ll emerged as the Ghostface Killah looking to exact a revenge most gruesome indeed. The second half of Twelve Reasons To Die details all the myriad ways his enemies meet their ends, and no one is spared. From the heads of the DeLuca family that ordered his hit, to the women and children they spawned, Ghostface shows no mercy or remorse in his wrath. Guess Wu-Tang Clan ain’t nuttin’ to fuck with even after they die.

Twelve Reasons To Die was seen as something of a career resurgence for Mr. Coles, his last critically hailed album being Fishscale seven years prior. It didn’t hurt that he’d paired up with the emerging, highly touted funk and soul producer Adrian Younge, who approached the project as though scoring a classic Italian horror film from the ‘60s; if said film was shot in the Bronx, anyway. It proved such a success that the two paired up again for a sequel this past year. Ooh, Rae’s a supporting character on that one? Tickle me piqued!

Method Man - Tical 2000: Judgement Day

Def Jam Recordings: 1998

A four year gap isn’t that much, all things considered. ‘90s hip-hop though, things were moving fast, stars rising and falling at an unprecedented rate, fueled by an MC arms race to the top of Mount Brag-N-Swagmore. Your label could only achieve immortal greatness if you had the best talent signed to your print. Death Row had 2Pac, Bad Boy had Biggie, No Limit had Snoop Dogg, Loud had Wu-Tang Clan, and so on. Def Jam had many legends to their name too, but most of them had established careers, showing little of the spit and fire needed that propelled the emergent labels of the ‘90s to the top. As a quick signee to Def Jam after the smashing success of Wu-Tang’s debut, Method Man looked to be the breakout star of the group, one that would usher in a new generation of hungry MCs for the storied print that Rick Rubin built.

One problem though: Mr. Clifford Smith wasn’t interested in being a solo star, completely content sharing the spotlight as part of a back-n-forth (Redman, Street Life) or a crew of equally charismatic rappers (Wu-Tang, Monstars, heh). All fine and well if one’s career aspirations stay humble, but when everyone from the fans on the streets to the CEOs in the record label towers demand more, four years turns to an agonizing wait, one the Ticallion Stallion gleefully mocks in Tical 2000 through a series of phone call skits. People ranging from accountants to radio DJs to even the tribble-cultivator Trump himself all chime in wondering what the bloodclot is taking Meth’ so long with this album.

Figuring out a theme would be my guess. Of course the nearing millennium would spark some inspiration, but aside from the opening and closing tracks (Perfect World and Judgement Day), it’s not a subject touched upon. Instead, Johnny Blaze runs the gamut of witty wordplay, sexy wordplay, thug life wordplay, club don’ wordplay, and that’s about it. Hey, it’s not like the subject matter in his lyrics have mattered much of a damn - Method Man could have excelled through sheer charisma alone, his deft skills on the mic’ keeping you hooked once reeled in.

Unfortunately, even that isn’t enough to save Tical 2000 from the sin of filler. Despite folks clamoring for more Method Man, most everyone agrees there’s too much bloat given the limited amount of topics covered. No matter how solid the beats are or how hype the guest spots are (seriously, I’ve never heard Street Life sound this good!), it all turns to repetitive mush in the back-half. It probably doesn’t help that the midpoint offers a hilarious Chris Rock skit, where the comedian goes on a never ending spree of Method Man aliases that cannot be stopped by gunshot, nor rabid dogs, nor rabid dolphins. Hell, he can’t even be killed by fire, and even The Thing could be killed by fire. After a high such as that, there’s only down to go.

Method Man - Tical

Def Jam Recordings: 1994

Over three years since I dropped my first Wu-Tang Clan review, I’m finally doing a solo album from the M.E.T.H.O.D. Man. That’s just silly. Consider: I’ve talked up four Raekwon LPs, four Ghostface LPs, three from Deck, three from GZA, plus efforts from RZA, ODB, Masta Killa, and even U-God! Also consider: one Clifford Smith kicked-off the solo Wu-joint concept, his debut dropping but a year after Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers). While it seemed likely a few of these MCs could sustain a career away from the Clan, there was little doubt Method Man was the breakout of the group, destined for superstar greatness in the world of hip-hop. It, um, didn’t quite turn out that way, explicitly because he never fully capitalized on all that initial momentum and good fortune. His album output has been sporadic and frequently underwhelming, yours truly seldom feeling the need to dig beyond his ‘90s output. And since his first few LPs centered on the concept of “tical”, here’s poor ol’ Cliff, way down in the ‘T’s of my CDs, thus bringing up the rear of Wu-Tang Clan solo joint reviews. Not that he’d give a shit either way.

Way back when though, everything looked peachy-keen for Johnny Blaze, his gruff charisma landing him a quick deal with hip-hop’s premier print, Def Jam Recordings. And why not, the label that gave us LL Cool J, Beastie Boys, Public Enemy, and Slick Rick undoubtedly anxious to get in on that hot Wu-Tang stylee, with nothing less than the group’s star MC as part of their official roster. And for sure, they got themselves some future classics of the hip-hop pantheon with Tical. Bring The Pain oozes street swagger with all the freestylin’ lyricism as found in his classic eponymous track from Enter The Wu-Tang. All I Need is a surprisingly affectionate ‘slum love song’ establishing ol’ Method as a rough ‘n’ tumble ladies man. And Release Yo’ Delf is a fun, rugged anthem for the club. The rest of Tical though… ah, hm.

As was the case on all the early Wu-solo records, RZA handles the bulk of the beats, and as Method Man has a gruff, gravely persona, so too does the music provided. Everything sounds rough, unpolished, dragged through Shaolin grime and muck, covered in a thick fog of hemp smoke. And dear Lord, some of the bass on this is absolutely crushing, the heaviest you’ll hear on nearly any Wu-Tang album. Sub Crazy alone must have broken many a poor, unsuspecting sub-whoofer. Sometimes though, it’s too much, the bass burying Meth’ and any other MC in the mixdown - Biscuits in particular is downright indecipherable. Yet given how clear the lyrics come through in other tracks, I can only assume the muddiness is intentional on RZA’s part, maintaining the Wu’s ghetto-grit mystic even as they began their empire expansion. Personally, I dig it, but Tical is left a difficult album to get into, one capably aided with an eponymous substance.

Ghostface Killah - Supreme Clientele

Epic: 2000

Finally I’m tackling the one Ghostface Killah album Wu-Tang fans and general hip-hop folks alike consider his best long-player, Supreme Clientele. Remarkably, it wasn’t even thought as such for at first, the very definition of a slow burner. For sure the hardline Wu fandom was tripping themselves over it, but this came out when the Clan was losing their dominance at the top of the rap world, many albums from other members lacklustre compared to the fiery opening salvo that marked their ‘90s output. That Ghost’s sophomore effort would get slept on isn’t surprising, Mr. Killah’s stock as one of Wu-Tang’s best solo MC having yet to be established. It still burned in the underground though, and if anything, Supreme Clientele was the record that kept everyone talking, proving that not all things Wu was on the wane. Then Tony Starks would surpass the rest of his Clan fam’ in popularity, and everyone chimed in proclaiming they always knew Supreme Clientele was dope. Right, of course.

Disclosure time: I have not actually heard this album as most have. Rather, I have a misspressed, early version that shipped out with the initial wave of Canadian copies. For the longest time, I suspected something was wrong with my CD, the tracklist and sequencing wildly off cue compared to what was printed. It didn't matter too much, as the album was boss from front to back, but I couldn't figure why one nine-minute long track sounded like three different cuts one after the other. At the time, I thought it was an artistic decision, that Ghostface was operating on a different plane with this LP, throwing the very conventions of properly indexing one's albums out the window.

Nah, guy, it was just the wrong one I got, is all. So I lost The Grain; I gained the soul-drenched In The Rain instead. And I still get all the ace cuts anyway, even if they’re in a different order. The bouncy club jams One, Cherchez LaGhost, and Buck 50 are all still here. The killer, crusty Wu production of Mighty Healthy, Malcom, Wu Banga 101 and Stroke Of Death (the beat loop is a freakin’ spinback!) are all still here. Most members of the Clan show up (no ODB because jail, and no Deck, though he does provide a beat), with everyone sounding on point and in classic ‘90s hunger mode. The various skits are okay too (haha, they’re already dissin’ 50 Cent), and are nicely shuffled off to the ends of tracks in this copy rather than given individual indexes. Okay, that’s a personal preference.

Apparently such discrepancies have turned this first-run Canadian copy into something of a collector’s item, going for easy triple-digits in some quarters. Huh, In The Rain is a cool track (found only on this CD), but is it really worth a couple hundred bones?

In any version, Supreme Clientele is among the best solo Wu albums out there. Essential listening for any fan of the Clan.

ACE TRACKS: February 2013

And I’m finally done getting through albums starting with some form of “sound” at the start of its title. Who’d have thought so many musicians would associated their music with sounds, eh? And yet, even after going through a dozen of them, that’s still but a blip in the behemoth that is all of ‘S’ – we’re a long ways before getting out of this letter, my friends.

Speaking of lengthy runs of letters, anyone remember ‘E’? Man, that was a beast too, eating up nearly two month’s worth of reviews way back when. I also feel February 2013 was something of a turning point for this blog. It marked the half-year point, plus the 100th review too (what am I at now, 750?), convincing myself I could keep going at the clip I was without serious fatigue or disinterest creeping in. More importantly though, it got a lot of big albums from Very Important Artists into the archives, including BT, Prodigy, Underworld, Moby, and Madonna. Also, remarkably, this month was the first point of entry for two names that would come to fill many a month with their releases: Neil Young and Wu-Tang Clan. Wouldn’t surprise me if folks thought I got all my rock and hip-hop fixes from Pink Floyd and Bone Thugs-N-Harmony prior to that.


Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere
Various - Evolution Of New Sounds
Various - Euro Dance Pool, Volume 1
Various - Euro Dance Pool, Volume 2
BT - ECSM
Erol Alkan - One Louder

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 33%
Percentage Of Rock: 5%
Most “WTF?” Track: Busta Rhymes featuring Mystikal - Iz They Wildin Wit Us & Getting Rowdy Wit Us (because like Hell you’ll keep up with the words they spittin’)

BT’s ECSM is not on Spotify. How is BT’s ECSM not on Spotify? Every other BT album is on Spotify. Okay, neither is that drone ambient neo-classical album Nuovo Morceau Subrosa, but that always struck me as a pure pet project, not intended for major commercial release. Then again, neither is This Binary Universe, another arty album but far better regarded than nearly anything Mr. Transeau’s done in fifteen years. So his super-serious music doesn’t get on Spotify, is that it? Still doesn’t explain ECSM’s absence though. Get with the program, Perfecto!

Not much else to say about this Playlist. As the opening number of tracks indicate, it’s a very ‘90s assortment of tunes, but then the ‘90s has an embarrassment of riches when it comes to electronic music. Yes, including the overplayed tunes that you just can’t get out of your head, even while transcending to outta’ space. (can you find another place?)

RZA as Bobby Digital - In Stereo

Gee Street: 1998

Within the intro of RZA's debut solo album, he makes a snarky comment about other hip-hop producers still relying on breaks samples for their beats. It's the new era after all, on the cusp of a fresh millennium - digital dominance was nigh. So, instead of relying on more funk and soul loops that defined his early production, Mr. Diggs set out to create a digital orchestra with around a dozen synths at his disposal. Laudable goals, daring even, but here's another theory: he lost a ton of sample-based beats in that studio flood of his, thus forced to redo everything from scratch. Okay, 'forced' is harsh – 'inspired' into a change of direction sound better?

As for the concept of Bobby Digital: In Stereo, the notion RZA would have another pseudonym to play with isn't surprising. By this point he'd already been Prince Rakeem (aborted pre-Wu solo career), RZArector (Gravediggaz), and Bobby Steels (mafioso alias for Raekwon's Only Built For Cuban Linx...), so here’s Bobby Digital, something of a super-id identity reflective of his irresponsible days as a youth. Taking cues from blaxploitation flicks and superhero comics, Bobby is the ultimate male power fantasy, getting into all sorts of street shenanigans without any consequence for his actions. And oh yes, you bet he’s smooth with the ladies, casually fucking his queens while tossing them bitches to the curb.

If this all sounds just a bit on the sleazy, irredeemable side of things, that’s kind of the point. Even though, as Bobby Digital, it seems like RZA’s glamorizing this lifestyle, I get the sense he’s actually criticizing the narrow world view the alias operates from. He brags about being incredibly suave with women, yet his come-ons are blunt, immature, and pornographic. He boasts of his carefree ways in the slums, but surely there must be more in life than what he sees around the projects. Bobby Digital believes he has everything figured out, a king in his domain, when the truth of the matter is he knows shit. It paints him as a tragic figure that he cannot see the light. No surprise the relatively smooth My Lovin’ Is Digi is followed by the harrowing, wretched Domestic Violence (which also serves as the end of the album-concept proper, yikes!).

Truthfully, I’m far more interested in RZA’s beats than the lyrical content. Mr. Diggs’ rhymes have always been a little forced, worming complex vocabulary into phrases where they struggle to fit, and that’s no different here, even with an alias that isn’t so deep on the philosophical metaphors. That don’t matter though, as the music he’s created here is fascinating, abstract melancholic keyboards and weird discordant rhythms, all the while retaining his distinct grimy funk and soul. I could have done with a couple less of the Slow Grind intermissions though.

Bobby Digitial: In Stereo most definitely isn’t for casual fans of Wu-Tang Clan. If you’re down for RZA at his most unhinged though, give this album a shot.

Ol' Dirty Bastard - Return To The 36 Chambers: The Dirty Version

Elektra: 1995

This is the first Wu-Tang album I actively recall playing, though I probably heard a couple other Clan tracks before without realizing it. Not that I even knew Ol' Dirty Bastard had anything to do with the Staten Island supergroup at the time – nay, t'was that bizarre cover that drew me in. Hell, the name alone had me grabbing the CD for an in-store demo, curious what a self-professed dirty bastard would sound like. Skipping past a far too long intro, I was hit with the instantly catchy piano hook of Shimmy Shimmy Ya and boisterous rap of Ason Unique demanding he be given the mic’ so he could take it away. Yeah, I hadn’t a clue what that meant, and it still seems like a clumsy line, but damn does he ever make you want to repeat it. Aside from a few hilariously juvenile sex raps though, I don’t recall much else from that first playthrough. Guess I was distracted by a nearby, shiny new Club Cutz 6 CD or something.

Much has been made of the utterly daft notion that Dirt McGirt had enough lyrical skill to have Second Wu-Tang Solo Album honoraries bestowed upon him, much less an actual solo career. Folks loved his sing-songy style of off-kilter flow, sure, and he had a crap-tonne amount of charismas (it’s how he keeps his rhymes smellin’ so funk-aayy). No one, however, labelled him a remarkable wordsmith. Hell, how often did he even pen lyrics? So much of Return To The 36 Chambers sounds like he has a cliff’s notes version of material to hang off a menacing RZA beat, then freestyles the rest. Ol’ Dirty spouts off so much seemingly random jargon and rapping styles over the course of nearly any track, it’s honestly quite a thrill hearing which tangent he goes on next. Like, here’s some lyrics from Hippa To Da Hoppa:

“Niggaz better loosen they ass, felt the glass / A forty ounce bottle, yo yo yo yo money yo pass! / Woooh-woooh-woooh! I sweat it live / MC gonna live God? No, the nigga die / The max-imum of MC's are populating / The min-imum of those MC's are dominating / Now all and together now, to what what who? / Rhymes come stinky like a girl's poo-poo.”

They don’t read like much, but coupled with his unpredictable flow and RZA’s unpredictable production, this simple tune is oddly mesmerizing. And the whole album’s like this! Even when fellow Wu-Tang members pop in for a few bars, they all fall lock-step into Mr. Russell Jones’ off-kilter world in the slummiest Shaolin back alleyways.

I don’t think there’s another hip-hop album out there quite like Return To The 36 Chambers. It’s the ODB unleashed in all of his unhinged charm, the RZA getting his gear grimy as fuck, released in the prime of the Wu-Tang Clan’s musical output. You may not care for the Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s content, but you sure don’t wanna’ look away either.

Inspectah Deck - The Resident Patient

Urban Icon Records: 2006

As an MC, Inspectah Deck is nigh impossible to fault, easily top tier in any Wu-Tang conversation. No, this isn't a debate. Every fan of Wu-Tang Clan has their favourite member, but whenever the Rebel INS starts spitting some fire, you darn well pay attention to his words. Why, then, has he struggled in the solo album market? Lack of an identifiable persona would be my guess. Excellent lyricism only gets you so far in an image conscious rap game, and when you’re surrounded by a bevy of outlandish characters in Wu-Tang, it's difficult sticking out. Hell, even when Method Man did his famous rundown on each Clan member's trait, he struggled describing what Inspectah Deck's name meant (“He's like that dude that'll sit back and watch you play yourself and all that right? And see you sit there and know you lyin; and he'll take you to court after that.” ...th'duq?).

Still, with his first two albums, Rebel INS showed some promise in coming up with a persona unique to him within the Clan: the crafty street hustler who remains embedded in the projects even as he gains affluence. After all, that inner city knowledge ain’t gettin’ dropped by itself, and Mr. Hunter’s greatest verses are often about ghetto illumination. Or just taking rival MCs to task – seriously, why can’t Deck and Del collab’ just once?

Okay, I’m rambling. The Resident Patient, Inspectah’s third solo outing. Or was it? Yes, it was, but it’s long been rumoured this was intended as a mixtape offering, not a proper LP effort. I can definitely believe that, as this is one dodgy release. For one thing, Mr. Hunter’s raps just aren’t as interesting compared to his other albums. He sounds good, but the content’s just not there. A lot of brags we’ve heard before, a few rudimentary come-ons, and an occasional street drama that runs far too short, lacking the sort of vivid imagery or intensity heard on many other records.

The production quality’s all over the map too, a plethora of way underground hip-hop beatsmiths lending their hands in what sounds like several disparate recording sessions. Mondee’s the main one (five tracks), who I’ve never heard before but Lord Discogs tells me has enjoyed a modestly successful career. He does fit the style Deck prefers spitting rhymes over, heavy street funk and cinematic soul, perfect for all your blaxploitation needs. Yet why do I much prefer the one-off gritty Chinatown slum bump of hopelessly obscure Concrete Beats? Or the vintage Wu stylee of RZA protégé Cilvaringz? Or even Deck’s own funky head-bop production? (Let’s not get into the others. Yes, even Psycho Les – was never a fan of Beatnuts)

I guess the most damning thing I can say about The Resident Patient is it’s an album with no real flow, an almost criminal accusation for an MC with impeccable flow. A few moments do shine through, but unless you’re a hardcore Inspectah Deck fan, I wouldn’t bother with this.