A solid addition to the dad-rap division from one of hip hop’s elder statesmen.
Maybe I’m just old now, but it feels like today’s hip hop albums are becoming more overloaded, homogenous in trends and style, and impactful as a flash in the pan. Viral stars are underselling, release dates have been coming and going with forgettable returns, and the years most important moment has been two giants of the 2010’s going at each other’s throats – the fact that the “big three” hasn’t been nearly contended by new blood for years shows with the quality of output the mainstream has seen recently. Or maybe it’s my grey hairs and growing stomach starting to show.
But amidst all that noise (or lack thereof), some big names of the older decades have stayed cooking. Nas and Black Thought have both released one-producer projects with no wasted words in their rhyme books, Common and Pete Rock gave a familiar but welcome dose of soulful boom bap and consciousness recently, and Em’s latest release was a mixed bag that fell a little flat at times, but had some reinvigorated performances that show he can still rap circles around us. The latest to join is a name that goes even further back into the “golden age”, one who will have inspired all the MC’s above, who though today collects more credits in the world of film and TV, is still known as one of the great innovators of hip hop – LL Cool J, and his return to the mic, with “THE FORCE”.
“Spirit of Cyrus” leads us in with its dub-like beat, growling bass and fizzling synthesizers, providing a spacey synaesthesia that’s like a wash of glittery stars being sucked into a looming black hole. LL brings in a politically charged verse, harnessing the spirit of Public Enemy. It’s a little funny hearing “A big blue gang, how do problems get solved?” from one of TV’s famous NCIS cops, but he tells the tale with engaging pictures and poetry – “These bullets are my slaves, it’s time to set them free, I smile as my lead niggas run away from me”.
This lyric-focused funk tone is continued with the title track, LL spitting as confidently as ever over an aggro break and bass guitar groove, shouting out his iconic gold rope chains, claiming “Before Check Out the Melody, his neck was a light show”. The smooth verses are cut between jazzy chords and claves that sound very Tribe-like, from the album’s exec producer Q-Tip. It’s like they’ve made an expansion on the ethos of his early records and the era he led with Run DMC – cypher ready rhymes above heavy drums and noise samples, adding trippy flourishes that made Tip and Tribe’s comeback “We Got It From Here…” a psych-rap success. And he can brag holiday luxuries as good as Tyler’s last records, talking of speed boats on “Water so clean, you can see the fish pissin’”.
Next up is “Saturday Night Special”, with LL back to his storytelling, describing shady street characters to watch out for. The beat here sounds a little more new-age, with a psychedelic Dilla-esque sample fed through swirling effects. This track is also blessed by both Rick Ross and Fat Joe, who (no weight joke intended) surprisingly don’t come close to matching LL’s hunger here, though they still hold their own.
In fact, it’s good to see a real old-school rapper like LL go toe to toe and match the energy of his collaborators. Many people have highlighted “Murdergram Duex” ft Eminem, which sees both J and Em trading relentless auto-rifle rhythms over a playful beat. As much as I admire Em’s never-ending quest to technically wow with wordplay and dizzying flows, it’s LL’s verses of steadier, but stronger deliveries that stick out as the victor. That spirit of less making more is alive on “Proclivities”, where LL goes back into loverman mode with Saweetie’s new-school R&B vocals over some Gary Numan-like electro keyboards. It’s nice hearing some thoughtful sex-rap sensibilities without the shock nature – not saying we should clutch pearls or turn our noses up at Sexxy Redd, she’s funny, she’s entertaining, it’s a bop. But it’s an interesting change hearing someone leaving some up to the imagination, the mystery just as alluring – “Sippin’ Irish, want some Guinness when I’m handlin’ my business, you like it when I—, you finish the sentence”.
There are a few lulls in energy – the lounge-jazz sample on “Black Suite Code” gets a little stale for a song that pays tribute to black culinary arts, and there’s a couple numbers in the second half where Cool J’s vocals fight for air beneath the rough, rugged mixing. “Praise Him” offers a house style conga loop with some squelchy bass and keys, that all comes together a little dinkier than the other instrumentals. Even an effortlessly flowing Nas verse can’t make it captivating enough to return to.
But one moment that does manage to slow the pace while keeping the interest is “30 Decembers”. Over an emotional prog guitar loop, digging into the middle-age rap angle, he talks of a visit to his hometown Queens and how things have changed – not an old man yelling at clouds (and Gen-Z) like Em’s “Death Of Slim Shady”, more so a disillusionment with how different it is since he came up. Seeing people “On their phones and computers, no one is readin’ the papers”, looking at his fellow pedestrians on a bus ride, feeling the tension in the air in a tech heavy, apathetic, post-Covid world – “You can cut it with a knife, the vibes are so strong”. His description of those on the street “Like a zombie walkin’ dead, head down and givin’ in” feels less about our immersion in smartphones, more the hopeless feeling many hold after competing in the daily rat race. At the end, he still gives some solidarity to the strugglers, telling them “If I made it off the streets of Queens, you can too”.
All in all, this is a strong entry into the old-head category, standing firm next to its peers. There are a few uneventful moments, and it might not make too many waves with the younger crowds and industry tastemakers, but its updated, edgier take on boom bap beats and NY emceeing make it a nice return for anyone looking for a break from the trends, Tik Toks, and typical top-chart formulas we’ve grown accustomed to. Old can still hit gold.
RATING: 7.5/10
SPOTIFY: https://open.spotify.com/album/1Q7mpQ7mDOK2snlbb0g5Q2