ACE TRACKS: January 2015

What a bizarre month. There’s been a few in the past where one or two styles of music dominated a playlist, but never in the way this one turned out. Hope you like a lot of hip-hop. Wait, you do? Well, cool, but I hope you enjoy a bunch of psy-trance mixed in with that. Wait, you do? Who are you, some kind of weirdo? Oh, wait, that’s just my reflection in the monitor. Looks like a bit of yolk dripping off my nose at that. Well, here’s the ACE TRACKS of January 2015 in any event:



Full Track List Here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
John ‘00’ Fleming - Psy-Trance Euphoria 2
Various - Psychedelic Goa Trance
Psychick Warriors Ov Gaia - Psychick Rhythms Vol. 1
Various - Psychotrance 2001: D:Fuse
Various - Cosmic Funk
Various - Dub Selector
Amon Tobin - Piranha Breaks

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 25%
Percentage Of Rock : 10%
Most “WTF?” Track: The Statler Brothers - Flowers On The Wall (for its glorious ‘movie moment’, though it’s certainly an odd one here too)

You know who makes for surprisingly good bed fellows? Early Burial and early Nine Inch Nails! Or maybe in a playlist fighting for space in the crowds of Wu-Tang Clan and French psychedelia, they found common ground, comfort in their outsider status. But yeah, with a few extra inclusions of lengthy Neil Young rock and borderline EBM, this is a weird assortment of tunes. Whatever happened to the regular ol’ house and techno, eh? This playlist should be a hoot if you’re daring to wander outside those comfort zones.

Wu-Tang Clan - A Better Tomorrow

Asylum Records: 2014

I can't get Miracles out of my head! Is it because that chorus is totally brilliant, or totally daft, or brilliantly daft? It's certainly unlike anything the Wu-Tang Clan has ever done before, sounding both suitable for a corny old-timey musical and a corny EDM festival anthem. The Shaolin crew's appeal is for the rugged and raw feel of their beats and rhymes, yet here's an entry into their discography that's about as squeaky-clean as a Rodgers & Hammerstein production. Are the Wu members offering verses on Miracles even into it? They don't sound embarrassed or out of place – even Raekwon seems earnest about the song's intention (namely, can the world's troubles only be solved with miraculous intervention?). It boggles my brain, confounds my cranium, puzzles my pons.

That’s only one track though. The rest of A Better Tomorrow is, dare I say, not as bad as everyone’s making it out to be? I’m already split on Miracles, which has been every other critic’s big ‘NOPE!’ moment on this album. A few other weak moments aside though, I’m digging much of the Wu’s latest LP, especially such a hot opener like Ruckus In B Minor (ODB lives!) I’m fine there’ll never be another Enter The 36 Chambers or Forever - just provide solid, skill music, and I’m satisfied. And more often than not, I’m gettin’ my vibe on to A Better Tomorrow.

Ol’ RZA, he’s finally figured out how to get some mileage out of all those stockpiled instruments in his studio. After all, isn’t it better to create your own funk and soul loops with actual musicians rather than raid the past? If you have the capability, I say go for it, and RZA’s learned quite a bit from the true masters of the craft (no, not True Master). What I find fascinating about these beats is they’re still arranged in that distinct twitchy style RZA’s known for, but with real instruments complementing hip-hop beats, chop-sockey dialog, and scratched-up samples. Not every track hits the mark (ugh, Hold The Heater’s synths struggle to gain any traction), but for all the complaints I’ve read about RZA losing his way, I just don’t hear it. I want to hear this evolution in Wu-Tang Clan! Wait, does that make me a Wu-Tang apologist, willing to overlook every weird third-tier tangent and mediocre sub-sub affiliate project, all because it comes with that classic emblem? Oh God. U-God, even!

The real trouble with A Better Tomorrow is how inconsequential all these MCs come off. Though there aren’t any wack rhymes, no one really stands out either. It’s like RZA considered each Clan member just another instrument in his arsenal, which makes a bit of sense at this late stage. His fam’s found their own way after twenty years, and aren’t so reliant on him for exposure. It does make this album more of a RZA LP than a full-on Wu joint, which is your leave it or lump it decider in a nutshell.

Ghostface Killah - 36 Seasons

Salvation Music: 2014

Finally, after sifting through a bunch of Ghostface Killah's back catalog, I can discuss a new album from the prolific Wu-Tang Clan member. Law of averages dictated my alphabetical stipulation and Tony Starks' ceaseless work rate would coincide with each other eventually. What even is his average, on LP per year now? He could have easily faded with his '00s fame, ready to slow down and rest easy on the rap game - no one would think lesser of him. Yet here he is again, slamming back a Shaolin Powerthirst, spitting out four-hundred fresh verses, each filled with the same fire that's driven him since the earliest days of Wu-Tang's formation. What is he, the Neil Young of hip-hop?

For that matter, what else can he rap about? He’s done the street tales, the sexy come-ons, the conscious rhymes, the battles brags, and the made-man narratives... what’s left? Horrorcore? Nerdcore? Yes! I mean, Mr. Coles already takes on aspects of slasher flicks (the ‘ghostface’ persona) and geek culture (Ironman, obviously), so why not embrace them to their logical extreme? Spin some narratives that aren’t as tied to gritty block dramas and rap jargon either, instead take on fantastical elements as witnessed in the pulpiest of ‘70s exploitation films. It’s never held The RZA back.

I don’t think Ghostface is quite willing to go so far off the macabre end as RZA did with Gravediggaz, but on 36 Seasons, he shows no problem having his own Bobby Digital moment. This is a pure blaxploitation action-thriller, a familiar story told for anyone well versed in the cinematic sub-genre. Come, sit by the fire as I weave the tale. A man comes back from time away, usually while in prison, but sometimes to serve duty overseas, or other ‘mysterious’ reasons. His neighbourhood’s changed though: streets have grown rougher, corrupt cops patrol the roads, and worse of all, his woman’s found another man in her life. Not that he blames her, as nine years is a long time to be gone, but there’s something fishy about this cat. More urgent though, is cleaning up the illicit drug game, and as the cops are on the take, the man takes it upon himself to do the deed. A chemical explosion in one such raid leaves him physically incapacitated though, forcing him to see a ‘mad scientist’ for treatment, thus forced to wear a mask in the form of a ghost. Wait, isn’t this Dr. Doom’s origin story?

Actually, the whole ‘becoming Ghostface’ part only takes up a brief portion of the album’s narrative. Also, I’m kinda’ disappointed the ‘Final Showdown’ of the story only lasts one two-minute track’s worth - it felt like 36 Seasons was building up to something bigger. There’s little else worth complaining about though. Ghostface remains as taught a storyteller as ever, the beats ooze ‘70s funk and soul, and AZ makes for an excellent rap foil throughout. 36 Seasons isn’t an essential album, but it’s enjoyable and skill for a vigilante narrative.

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.

Ghostface - The Pretty Toney Album

Def Jam Recordings: 2004

This is the exact moment when Ghostface Killah surpassed any need of Wu-Tang association as a hip-hop talent. Following The Pretty Toney Album, it was clear Mr. Coles was on a totally different level as a solo MC compared to his Clan fam’, and could carry on a successful career without them should he so choose - yep, Wu-Tang breakup rumours were rampant at this time. Fueling that gossipy narrative was the fact nary a Clan member nor their second and third tier MCs have guest verses on this album, a first for any of the group's solo LPs (RZA and True Master did contribute a couple productions though). It led to ridiculous amounts of speculation over whether there was beef between Ghost and Wu-Tang, which he immediately quashes with an opening mock interview skit, but it'd be a few years before it finally simmered away.

There was another factor to all the talk, however; with The Pretty Toney Album, Ghostface was the only Clan member to have a standout solo album up to that point in the new millennium (though Masta Killa's debut wasn't too far ahead). Granted, hindsight's shown that LPs from GZA, Inspectah Deck, and so on weren't awful, but it seemed no one else was maintaining the creative fire that propelled Wu-Tang through the '90s like he was. Def Jam must have believed as much, signing him once his deal with Epic passed, all but cementing his status among the upper hip-hop echelon. Good thing Mr. Coles gave them solid albums and confirming their support was justified, unlike some other Wu members (sorry, Meth').

As The Pretty Toney Album was his debut on Def Jam, the album comes off like a showcase for Ghostface’s various styles of MCing. Okay, he tends to have only one style, a near-breathless stream of conscious attack filled with hyperbole and slang, but his preferred topics range from street tales, near pornographic come-ons, or persona acting. Most of his albums find him sticking to one, but not here. We get various crime sagas with Biscuits, Run (along with Jadakiss), and It’s Over, while relationship shit goes down in Save Me Dear, Tooken Back, and Push (with Missy Elliot at the summit of her powers). A few other topics are scattered about, like Ghost simply spitting fire over lesser MCs (Ghostface, Beat The Clock), plus his obligatory softy song in Love. I can’t say all of these are Tony Starks at his absolute best, but it’s a great primer if you were just getting into his music (a decade late, somehow).

And the beats? Man, you better love them old funk and soul jams, because Ghostface loves them so much, he barely alters his samples at all. At least a third of these tracks is just him rapping over the original songs from the ‘60s and ‘70s, a few tweaks and edits the only noticeable difference, though I honestly don’t know for sure. My knowledge of the soul classics is the bunk.

Raekwon - Only Built For Cuban Linx... Pt. II

Ice H2o Records: 2009

It was that ellipses, wasn’t it. Giving your solo debut an open ended title like Only Built For Cuban Linx… suggested there’d be a continuation, that Lex Diamond and his gang of hustlers would return to tell more of their saga. And Raekwon did, kind of. Immobilarity offered a glimpse into the ‘crime and fame’ world from the top’s perspective, but gone was the unique narrative from Cuban Linx. Meanwhile, The Lex Diamond Story tried a pseudo-prequel, but only half the time, and could only be considered a disappointment given Rae’ track record of fully thematic LPs.

So everyone kept asking for a Cuban Linx, Pt. 2, the sequel kinda’-sorta’ hinted at but never explicitly promised. Such demanding fans, but Raekwon showed benevolence after a time, finally announcing a follow-up to his seminal debut. Of course, questions were raised whether he could recapture the magic of the original, especially in a rap game that had undergone massive changes from the days of Eastcoast criminology rhymes and lore. I mean, weren’t all these supposed ‘gangstas’ now made-men, living large off their success?

Absolutely, and Only Built For Cuban Linx… Pt. II fully recognizes this fact in the opening skit – it literally carries on from the first album’s finish! Papa Wu ended the final track North Star (Jewels) by giving Rae’ an inspirational monologue, to keep his eyes on his goals and dreams over soulful orchestral strings. Pt. II opens with Return Of The North Star, the very tail-end of the monologue still playing; then a new orchestra picks up and Papa Wu has returned, amazed and joyous at seeing Rae’ as he is now, for he knew, he believed in what the Chef could achieve. That’s an awesome way to start this sequel, and one that’s impeccably followed upon as Pt. II plays out.

For one thing, Raekwon didn’t skimp on bringing in A-list producers for this album, something that hampered Immobilarity and Lex Diamond Story. RZA’s naturally in for a couple mint tunes, including the impossibly soulful New Wu. J Dilla, one of hip-hop’s biggest studio stars of the ‘00s, contributes three, tracks like Wu-banger House Of Flying Daggers and ODB tribute Ason Jones, sounding like he’d always been a part of the Clan fam’. Old schooler Erick Sermon gets a cut in. Even Dr. Dre was somehow roped in for a pair, which are, um, actually rather dull compared to everyone else. I mean, how does a horrorcore guy like Necro totally out-funk the G-funk don’? Necro’s Gihad has a ridiculous catchy chant, and features one of the best examples of ‘Sonning’ on Ghostface’s part. I can verb ‘to son someone’, right?

Guest rappers Jadakiss, Busta Rhymes, plus the usual Wu suspects were all in for giving Raekwon the sequel Only Built For Cuban Linx deserved, practically guaranteeing Pt. II a success. Final track Kiss The Ring is an unabashed celebration of Raekwon’s status within hip-hop’s canon, and damn if you don’t feel like bowing after it’s done.

Raekwon - Only Built For Cuban Linx...

Loud Records: 1995

Finally, after diddling about with less-heralded Raekwon albums on this blog, it’s the big one: Only Built For Cuban Linx. You can't understate how massive the Chef's solo debut was when it dropped, overshadowing Mr. Woods' career forever after. Hell, how many times have I name-dropped Cuban Linx here? A few times, I wager. As always with these classic hip-hop LPs, there's little more I can say that hasn't been exhaustively covered by other, deeply immersed chroniclers of rap musics. I'm just a passive fan of the stuff, and Hip-Hop Sykonee ain't coming back to this reality.

What elevated this album into its top tier status was how it added an unexpected dynamic to the then young Wu-Tang Clan saga. Enter The 36 Chambers established a whole crew of talented MCs, but as Method Man and Ol' Dirty Bastard were easily distinguished from the rest, its little surprise they'd do solo joints immediately after. Who'd be next though? GZA seemed likely for another LP, and that Inspectah Deck guy was spitting some fire. Maybe he would- wait, Raekwon? Really? Yeah, he was good too, but not so charismatic as the others. He came off like a little attack dog on the Wu-Tang album and guest spots, barking a bunch as the big dogs swaggered about. Good as a side-man, sure, but a full solo's worth? Well, okay, let's see what you have.

Now this... this is interesting. Instead of another straight-forward run of battle rhymes, pornographic come-ons, and gritty street tales, we're offered a complex narrative, centred on a Mafioso theme. Though not the first time a hip-hop performer was influenced by mob films and lore, seldom had anyone done it so thoroughly as Rae' here. As was expected, the extended Wu family was brought in for guest verses, including ample appearances of Ghostface Killah, who’d already established himself as Rae’s right to his left (y’know, “form like Voltron”?). To sell his crime drama though, the Chef had his crew take on all new aliases that fit his vision. RZA became Bobby Steels, Inspectah Deck became Rollie Fingers, Method Man was now Johnny Blaze, and even a guest appearing Nas took on the alias Nas Escobar. With everyone all in on Cuban Linx’s concept, an instant classic was all but guaranteed here. The Wu-Tang Clan proved beyond a shadow of a doubt they could mix their personas up as needed to fit the music they wished to create.

Of course, the two key ingredients are Raekwon and RZA. No longer the ‘barking’ MC on prior albums, he was suddenly calm, cool, and collected as a rapper, spewing insane amounts of new lyrical vernacular and slang that left the hip-hop world scrambling to decipher and catch up. Meanwhile, Bobby Steels raided his blaxploitation influences, completing Cuban Linx’s ‘rising above the streets’ narrative (with a little Scarface thrown in for good measure). There honestly isn’t another album in the Wu-Tang canon that sounds like it. Reason enough to get this, yes?

U-God - The Keynote Speaker

Soul Temple Entertainment: 2013

I'm gonna' sound like a total Wu-Tang hipster here, but I was into U-God before it was cool. While I understand why fans of the Clan wouldn't rank Mr. Hawkins' MC skills as high as the other members, I've never understood the derision he's received. As the obligatory baritone of a full Clan of talent, he's always fit whatever hook or verse handed to him, with a be-boppin' style that sounds great to my white-ass ears. Seriously, just listen to him ride any beat, and realize he's just as talented as the rest of the Wu crew, even if it's within a specific role.

Right, I wasn’t so into him that I copped every release of his (okay, none), but when folks started hyping up his third album, Dopium, I nodded, figuring the general hip-hop community was finally cluing into what I long suspected: U-God is a great MC, and simply had a bad run of record label luck in launching a solo career. Interest in how he was to follow Dopium grew, heads wondering if that album was a fluke or if ol’ Golden Arms was finally on firm ground, ready to cement his legacy within the hip-hop canon. Enter The Keynote Speaker.

This is the sort of Wu-Tang solo album most fans anticipate, a member spotlight with guest verses from the Clan fam’ for followers of those particular MCs – The RZA getting an ‘Executive Producer’ credit doesn’t hurt either, even contributing a few beats for U-God to spit over (discordant soul in the ‘bad day in the life’ tale Room Keep Spinning; street noir in Get Mine; ?? southern screw in Be Right There?). One DJ Homicide provides the bulk of the beats though, mostly feeding vintage Eastcoast funk-n-soul loops that U-God has no problem riding. In fact, most of The Keynote Speaker feels like a mid-‘90s throwback, little in the way of modern hip-hop finding its way here. The aforementioned Be Right There aside, only Stars (epic trance synths!) and Golden Arms (trap!) come off contemporary, and I’m surprised I like these tunes as much as I do (strictly old-school, this white boy be). U-God himself sounds in fine form, and while his lyrical topics don’t stray far from his comfort zone (a couple street stories; “ya’ll doubted me, here’s proof of my skills”; etc.), it’s as I expected anyway. Baby Huey’s found his groove, so why ruin a good thing?

If you’re still uncertain whether to spring for a U-God album, The Keynote Speaker includes a bonus disc of Soul Temple Entertainment affiliated Wu material (it’s the label where many Clan members have found new homes on). There’s a couple cuts from Ghostface’s critically hailed Twelve Ways To Die album, Wu-Tang joints from RZA’s movie The Man With The Iron Fists, and a Shaolin Soul Selection mash-up from RZA himself, where he spotlights the original records he nicked many of his classic samples from. Almost worth the price of admission alone right there, mang!

Masta Killa - No Said Date

Nature Sounds: 2004

The '00s weren't nearly as musically bad of a decade for the Wu-Tang Clan as most remember. During those years though, you'd be forgiven thinking otherwise – good albums are fine, but most expected instant classics nearly every release. That said, a few such exceptional LPs found their way onto store shelves that decade, one of which took everyone by surprise: Masta Killa's debut album, No Said Date. Yes, the final official Clan member, who only got one verse out of the entirety of the Very Important Wu-Tang Album Enter The 36 Chambers, and who fans of the group seldom name-dropped as their favourite member, knocked it out of the ball-park on his first try.

At a time when speculation of an inevitable breakup of the group was rampant, seeing the whole Wu-fam’ on a single LP was a strong selling point for No Said Date (not to mention extended members Streetlife, Killah Priest, and Prodigal Sunn along for the show). RZA behind the producer’s chair for a number of tracks, plus his studio disciples Mathematics and True Master contributing too, helped complete the ‘vintage Wu-Tang Clan’ feel of this album. Folks had been waiting for half that decade for it, and was delivered by the least likely chap.

What works in No Said Date’s favour is fully acknowledging Mr. Turner’s role within the Clan, the final puzzle-piece of the RZA’s initial Grand Plan. Mr. Diggs, numerological nut that he is, felt it necessary to have nine proper ‘monks’ within Wu-Tang, some of whom he’d have to tutelage, guiding them to discover their inherent rap talents. Masta Killa was essentially the rookie, and definitely took some time to develop a strong persona. It’s a testament to Noodles’ dedication to the lyrical craft that he didn’t rush releasing a solo album, only putting himself out there when he felt totally confident in his skills. It was worth the wait, Mister Masta sounding as much a seasoned veteran on No Said Date as any of his fellow Clansmen that show up here. And show-up they all do indeed.

Want some throwback funk with ODB warbling? Old Man’s got you covered. Street tales from Raekwon and Ghostface? D.T.D.’s your cut. Reflections of the inner city life as only told by Inspectah Deck and GZA? Get your ears on Silverbacks. Confounding production as done by RZA? Oh hi, School. And don’t figure Masta Killa’s simply along for the lyrical ride on these tracks either - his verses are just as vital and distinct as those from his Clan-fam’.

Noodles shines though, on two tracks: Digi Warfare and Masta Killa. The former’s an awesome electro throwback, brought to the modern era with excellent sonic chops from long time New York house producer Choco. The latter, final track, in making use of Far-East harmonies and Bruce Lee’s classic “be like water” speech, serves as a strong summation of Masta Killa’s career; a justified, celebratory moment for a man who proved patience is one of music’s finest virtues.

Ghostface Killah - Ironman

Epic Street: 1996

As a fan of the Wu-Tang Clan, grabbing a copy of this album obviously took far too long on my part. Isn't it my dutiful obligation to own every one of the group's first-run solo CDs? Yep, though in Ghostface's case, his first didn't leave a strong initial impression. For instance, is the cover intended to come off like some tacky shoe advertisement? Or are they in the process of pushing Wu-Ware along with Ironman? Another thing that turned me off was the lead single Daytona 500. Honestly, I can't remember how the song goes, even having just listened to it, but I thought the Speed Racer video for it was kinda' gimmicky. Still, I should know better than to let a lead single dictate a whole album. On the other hand, Cappadonna's on this a whole bunch, isn't he? I dunno, too many of his verses are so weak compared to the other Wu, I don't think I could handle a whole LP with him chiming in. Wait, Winter Warz is on this? Holy shit, son, Cap' spits pure fire on that cut!

Okay, the main reason was I couldn't figure Ironman living up the lofty peaks Ghostface had climbed with Supreme Clientele and Fishscale. And to be blunt, he doesn't here. Then again, Ghost was just at the start of what would be an impeccable solo career – testing the waters of where he could go, but still within the coddling embrace of his Clan and RZA's musical influence. For sure, Ironman's filled with plenty of those classic Wu, twitchy funk 'n' soul loops coupled with impeccable drum programming. In a way, this album marked something of an end of RZA's original style, the need for musical progression undoubtedly on his mind with Wu-Tang Forever just around the corner. He certainly indulges himself with a number of post-verse loops on a few tracks here, more so than most other solo-Wu albums. It's rather surprising Ghostface was fine with his producer stealing the spotlight like that. Ooh, conspiracy theory for Mr. Coles' ongoing distancing from the Wu as the years wore on!

Saying that, few knew what Ghostface's 'persona' was at this point enough to carry a whole album, beyond yet another ultra-talented MC in the Clan. Method Man was the rugged, uber-charasmatic one, ODB was ODB, GZA was the wise elder, and Raekwon established himself as a successor to Scarface (both gangster and rapper). Mr. Killah definitely proved himself a worthy back-up in those cases, almost part-and-parcel to Rae's image (Chef being the smooth operator, Ghost being the trigger-happy side-man). On Ironman though, Tony Starks plays the role of street storyteller, hype-man for his posse, and a lady's man who loves his mamma, but has absolutely no respect for them ho’s. Standard concepts as far as gangsta rap was concerned, and still deep within the Clan's fold, not the most efficient way to differentiate yourself from so many magnetic personalities. It'd take one more album to get there.

Inspectah Deck - The Movement

Koch Records: 2003

As a point man in the Wu-Tang Clan, Inspectah Deck is without equal, many all-time classic cuts featuring him leading the lyrical charge. When doing guest verses, Rebel INS can often steal the show, and I wonder the only reason he doesn’t is because he’s just classy that way. As a solo artist, Mr. J.K. Hunter is, ah… not as good. Maybe it’s not so surprising, as this trend's been the solo-Wu narrative since seemingly forever; or at least Wu-Tang Forever. It’s also an unfair narrative, one blinded by the brilliance of the Clan’s first half-decade of work and near-impossible expectations put upon the ensuing years. Some still meet those lofty peaks (oh hi, Ghostface), while others, not so much (um, yo, Method Man).

Inspectah Deck always seems stuck in the middle that mountain, albums that never outright suck but lacking in the highlights that’s defined the best of his peers. I’ve only gathered up three of his four LPs, so I can’t say this holds true with Manifesto, but seeing how his first three disappointed when they first came out, I can’t say I’m in a hurry to get that one. Of those first three, they’re different beasts to tackle, so let’s get going on Rebel INS’ sophomore album, The Movement.

First, context. The year was 2003 and hip-hop had basically buried the beefs and gone about promoting itself as a culture only concerned with attaining bling status - the Jay-Z-slash-50 Cent fallout, if you will. While some rappers had no problem remaining street or conscious, nearly everyone was obligated at providing club bangers on their LPs. Okay, fine, the Wu’s had a few hits in this regard, and- well, no. I like beats that bang, for sure, but what Deck offers here comes off as lip service. Going on about Shorty Right There with Street Life, or Bumpin And Grindin… ugh, INS, you’re better than that. Much better.

Okay, the good shit. Proving he’s lyrically above and beyond his peers is always mint, and we get a few tunes of that type. Stories of hustling and taking hip-hop back to the proper streets? Yeah, there’s a bunch of that. Not much else, to be honest, but that’s fine, since these are topics Deck’s always been ace at. Unfortunately, while Deck doesn’t falter with his verses, some choruses are just pants. That Shit and Get Right are two of the worst (that’s not the aforementioned club junk), and unfortunately come early in the album, never a good way of holding an already suspicious listener base suspecting another disappointing Wu effort.

Get past that though, and you’ll find plenty of New York funk and soul loops to enjoy, and lyricism to match. If The Movement can be faulted for anything, it’s a few too many tracks and wonky pacing (Vendetta is a perfect closer, yet is nowhere near the end). This is an album that’s good enough from Deck, but it still wasn’t the awesome fans kept hoping for.

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.

Raekwon - The Lex Diamond Story

Universal Records: 2003

Only Built For Cuban Linx is a classic, of that there's no debate; Part 2, released in 2009, was heralded as the follow-up everyone hoped of Raekwon. Unfortunately, no one knew whether we'd get such a sequel, so fans of Mr. Todd's music made do with what was sporadically offered instead. When it came out, Raekwon's third was received warmly enough, if not as a return to form then at least a decent effort. That perception's somewhat changed though in recent years. Unlike other 2000s LPs from the Wu-Tang, The Lex Diamond Story seems to be receding further from the collective hip-hop memory.

As an assortment of 2003 eastcoast criminology rap, Lex Diamond suffices. There aren't many surprises on the production front, though the tone does frequently jump from track to track – guess that's the price one pays for no longer having RZA providing all the beats. Instead, names like Brutal Bill, Andy C (no, not that Andy C), Crummie Beats, Zephla, Hangman 3, Ez Elpee, and Mizza handle the decks. Um, I don't know any of these names – I think I heard of Crummie Beats somewhere, but Lord Discogs lists Lex Diamond as his (their?) only entry, so I may just be blowing hipster smoke. Whatever, everyone involved (and nearly every track has a different producer credit) pretty much work with cinematic or jazz-n-soul loops and samples that'd been an eastcoast staple for over a decade by that point. Again, fine for the tone Rae' wants for this album (street raps by his street gangsta persona), but nothing particularly innovative for that year.

In fact, the few tracks that do break mode stand out from the rest for that very reason. That doesn't mean they're good tunes though. Ice Cream, Pt. 2 seems like a bad idea on paper – don't mess with a classic, right? - but DJ Khalid (who's done work for Dr. Dre's Aftermath print) provides a charming, silly cut for Rae', Method Man, and Cappadonna to once again use tasty frozen treats as pick up lines. Mike “Punch” Harper, on the other hand, creates a synth-heavy club jam on Wyld In Da Club, also featuring Raekwon's then-new pet project Ice Water Inc. (what happened to American Cream Team?). It sounds like a total trend-jump and in both cases, I wonder how either of them relates to a story about Lex Diamond's crime days.

And really, that's where this album suffers and quite possibly will continue to be relegated to forgotten solo-Wu joints. Say what you want about Immobilarity, but like both Cuban Linx, it maintains its theme for most of its running time – it feels like you're listening to proper long player. The Lex Diamond Story doesn't, often jumping from a Lex-related story to something totally unrelated. The final track - Once Upon A Time with somber pianos and singing from Tekitha (such a soulful voice) – is an admirable effort to tie everything together, but it's not enough.

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.

Wu-Tang Clan - Iron Flag

Loud Records: 2001

For a group that usually takes their time between albums, Iron Flag had a remarkable turnaround in the wake of The W, released a mere year after. As I recall, it wasn’t met with nearly the same amount of anticipation as their prior work, though the world did have quite a few other things on their mind late in 2001. Then again, general interest in the Wu-Tang Clan had dwindled, their inability to re-capture the same fire that marked all those ‘90s LPs creating talk of “they’ve fallen off” while fresh hip-hop acts took center stage. That they would feel compelled to quickly release an album called Iron Flag to silence the doubters and haters isn’t surprising, but it did little to stem the public apathy the group suffered from in those early ‘00s.

And yeah, I could be lumped in that group as well. It took me over a decade to finally return to this album, my initial impression from some shitty p2p leaked download (hey, I was flat broke at the time!) doing little to inspire much interest to hear Iron Flag proper-like. This, from a guy who just a year prior couldn't get enough of anything Wu affiliated. If someone in the swoon of their Wu-honeymoon had feelings of 'meh' over it, then good lord, this must be a mediocre album.

Nah, but it is uneventful, something that you could seldom say about any full-on Tang Consortium release. Aside from “yo, we're the Wu, and we're still New York, represent” (something like that), I haven't a clue what the theme of Iron Flag is. Maybe that's all it is, a no frills 'back to the streets' excursion for all the members. The beats are generally bare-bones (though no Hollow Bones), with a whole lotta' wikki-wikki’ from turntablists. Wait, who even is the Wu-Tang DJ? Did he do them, or are they studio add-ons? Ain't no info in the liner notes on that, but whatever, it's awesome. For all the musical innovation RZA’s accomplished over the years, it’s good to know he can make do with the core essentials of hip-hop too.

As for all these MCs, the Clan sounds more fired up than they did on The W. Uzi (Pinky Ring)’s about the closest they reach the highs of Triumph or Protect Ya Neck, but plenty of other tunes hold up well enough. Dashing’s reggae overtones are a nice change of pace from the usual funk and soul loops, Back In The Game brings in producer tandem Poke And Tone for a far different sounding minimalist Wu cut, and Rules shows they can still kick out a standard club-bounce jam when bothered to do so.

If you’re a fan of Wu-Tang Clan, it’s hard to hate anything off this album, as it finds the group hitting a familiar groove most of their work maintains. It’s not breaking ground, but if you’re fine with them no longer bringing the mutha’ fucking ruckus, Iron Flag is worth having.

Raekwon - Immobilarity

Sony Music Entertainment (Canada): 1999

It all starts somewhere, and for yours truly, Raekwon’s Immobilarity was the one that got me taking hip-hop seriously. For sure stronger albums that could have done the trick existed (including, of course, Raekwon’s first album, Only Built For Cuban Linx), but by and large I regarded the world of rap music as something rather gimmicky. The biggest hits were typically crossover party jams, and the stuff my peers played to piss off our parents over-glamorized gangsta tropes and sexual misogyny to the point of ridiculousness. Thank God The RZA Hits came along when it did, shoving some musical knowledge into my ears in the process. While it clued me into the ‘musical’ potential of the genre, soon I wised onto the ‘intellectual’ potential too.

Raekwon’s sophomore effort dropped about the same time as The RZA Hits, and, eager to quickly consume more Wu, I checked it out, promptly blown away yet again. This wasn’t some cliché ridden gangsta bullshit; rather, something far more mature in tone and concept was going on, painting an elaborate story of established criminals trying to survive in an ever-changing game. Immobilarity was hardly the first hip-hop album to do this, but it was the first that I properly heard.

Raekwon’s debut had the benefit of the Wu still being something of the streets, thus their tales of criminology still had a degree of honesty to them. In the four years following it, however, the group had conquered the globe, and it just didn’t make sense to still rap about roughin’ it to get by. They were made-men now, so to take the concept of ‘criminology raps’ to the next level (not to mention distance themselves from all the copy-cats), Raekwon changed the concept of Wu-gambinos to reflect that. They’re at the top now (or very near it), and they have to protect what’s theirs from all the up-and-coming hustlers. Maybe even find a way out of the game altogether, if the opportunity arises. If Cuban Linx could be considered a Scarface tribute, then Immobilarity is Godfather.

That could have made for an incredible album, if not for weighty expectations holding it down: heads only wanting Cuban Linx, Pt. 2, and RZA’s absence in the producer’s chair. Instead, we get a slew of relatively unknowns (sans Pete Rock) using rather cheap-sounding drum kits coupled with loops of heavily synthesized Mediterranean music (especially Chris Spheeris). Maybe it’s my Italian heritage, but I love hearing these loops, perfectly complementing Raekwon’s crime stories, but I can understand why others would dismiss Immobilarity on these ground, at least back in the day.

Now that hindsight’s clued folks up that RZA wouldn’t be on every Wu release (and we did get Cuban Linx, Pt. 2), folks have since softened on this album. Problems remain that keep it from being a hidden gem in the Wu discography (too much filler in the end; the beats still lack), but Immobilarity’s a worthy pick-up if you prefer your hip-hop having sophistication and class.

Ghostface Killah - Fishscale

Def Jam Recordings: 2006

For the Wu-Tang Clan, the first half-decade of our current millennium was spent spinning wheels. Often, whatever momentum they’d create for themselves was followed with mediocre duds or nothing at all. Aside from Ghostface Killah, that is. He opened the ‘00s with the underground classic Supreme Clientele (considered so because the album got hardly any press at the time), and though his subsequent material never reached that lofty peak again, he remained consistent as the decade wore on.

Fishscale came out at about the time most had written the Clan off and Ghost was thought as a strong solo artist in no need of his posse anymore. All the more surprising, and welcome even, that Raekwon shows up on a number of the cuts, not to mention a proper Wu joint with 9 Milli Bros. Though the two had guest-versed repeatedly on each other’s albums, it was Rae’s Only Built For Cuban Linx that’d been regarded as the definitive Rae-Ghost showcase. Perhaps in a bid to recapture the fire that inspired that one (not to mention no one knew whether there’d ever be another Cuban Linx at this point), at least a quarter of Fishscale deals with crime stories and cocaine usage. Unlike so much other gangster rap, it’s never glamorized, yet nor is it ever villainized either. Best example of this is the second cut Kilo, where over a simple funk-beat supported by sounds of snorting and metal-on-porcelain, Ghost and Rae tell us the in-and-out of dealing on the street as it is, and nothing more.

In going back to those roots, Ghost seems inspired to revisit other things that worked on prior albums. The longtime ‘70s soul sampling is in full effect of course, mostly used in tracks like The Champ and Be Easy where Mr. Coles goes bravado on us. Elsewhere, reflective moments of childhood get another nod with Whip You Down With A Strap, where ol’ Dennis ponders whether he deserved some of the beatings his momma gave him. He also finds time for extraneous topics like going to the barber shop (in the short tune Barbershop, which has a ridiculously hard kick for such a silly tune). And the ladies? Whether telling tales of cocaine addicts (Big Girl) or how he’ll give them the chance to change for the better in Momma, Ghost keeps things smooth. Guess he realized if you’re gonna make an album that’ll appease all parties, the women need their tunes too.

When Fishscale came out, it was hailed as an instant classic under the Wu banner, and few thought it could be topped. While I agree it ranks among Ghostface’s top albums, something funny happened to the Clan after this one: they got good again. Not brilliant, mind, but many of their releases are on par with Fishscale. Ironically, Ghost’s album lost its ‘classic’ status as a result, and now is simply considered a “Top 10 ‘00 Wu Release”. Still not a bad distinction.

Wu-Tang Clan - Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)

BMG Music Canada: 1993

I’ve made no secret of my love of the Shaolin crew. It was the Wu that opened my ears proper-like to the possibilities of hip-hop ingenuity, but even before then I had a level of respect for the odd tune I heard from the group. It took a while to catch on though, in no small part because my teenage years were spent on the West Coast. True, the Canadian West Coast, but G-Funk ruled my peers’ Discmans, thus I seldom gave anything East Coast notice. Oh, those wacky years when regional distances mattered.

So I entered the temple that RZA built and began digesting whatever Wu material I could. Problem was I came a tad late, thus my early Wu consumption was almost all post-Forever material. And while there were still a few solid releases under the Wu flag at the turn of the century, it paled compared to the pre-Forever era. It was a while before I bothered checking it out though, largely the fault of a CD called The RZA Hits, essentially a collection of the best cuts from those early albums. “Why should I get Enter The 36 Chambers,” I thought, “when half the album’s already on The RZA Hits?” Man, bring out the Australian boot, ‘cause I deserve an extra punishing kick for that one.

Fact is every cut off here could have ended up on The RZA Hits. That’s how bloody good this album is. Rowdy bangers (Bring Da Ruckus, Wu-Tang Clan Ain’t Nuthing Ta F’ Wit), posse anthems (Protect Ya Neck, Da Mystery Of Chessboxin’, Wu-Tang: 7th Chamber), introspective moments (C.R.E.A.M., Can It Be All So Simple Then) or individual showcases (Method Man, Clan In Da Front, Shame On A Nigga… kind of), this album’s got everything one can hope out of a hip-hop release. But hey, you should already know that. Even if you haven’t heard any of these cuts (!!), you’ve at least heard about its classic status within the hip-hop canon. Two decades on, it hasn’t lost its shine.

Or rather, none of the raw, unvarnished grit has worn away. As the Wu were still very much of the street at this point, there’s no fine studio polish or immaculate production here. The RZA made do with what he had and got ridiculous mileage out of the bare-bones drum kits and samplers. It of course helps to have eight outstanding MCs (Masta Killa’s only here for one verse) on hand spitting fire throughout. Enter The Wu-Tang was already an incredibly unique and distinctive sounding record in ’93, thus it’s more remarkable each MC is just as unique and distinctive as well. I’ll deal with them when I come to their solo albums though. In the meanwhile, you get on Enter The Wu-Tang, as it’s one of about ten rap albums you’re supposed to have even if you’re not much of a fan of hip-hop.

(As an aside, this is also my one-hundredth review since writing them again. Celebrating in style!)