Album Review: Jadakiss “The Last Kiss”

Has there ever been a more frustrating rapper than former New York wunderkind Jadakiss?

If you grab any five music critics/hotshit bloggers/wearers of scarves, and ask them to name the top 10 rappers of all time, three things are certain to happen.

1. In no particular order, Biggie, Pac, Em, Nas and Jay will almost always round out the upper half(1).

2. There will be one guy in the group who thinks he’s super hip and includes some dipshit pick like Project Pat just for the sake of being contrarian. He’ll make some inane claim about how “Sippin’ On Some Syrup” was the most culturally relevant song of 2000 and everyone laugh until they realize he’s serious and then they’ll hate him for it.

3. And Jadakiss will sneak onto all of their lists. He’ll most likely sit in the 8th spot, right below Mos Def, who has silently carved out an alcove as everyone’s secret-favorite Earth-rapper, and right above Scarface. (Yeah, bitch, ‘Face is a top 10 pick.)

But despite being universally regarded as possessed of an obvious and seemingly innate talent, Jada has failed to translate that into the mainstream success he endlessly petitions for(2). Unfortunately, The Last Kiss(3) falls right in line with the trajectory of his underwhelming career.

Mind you, singularly there are a few enjoyable tracks on Last. “Cartel Gathering,” which is actually guided to prominence by a Ghostface(4) contribution more than anything else, sees Jada shine in the supplemental role that he’s apparently fated to(5). The ad-lib heavy “Something Else” is unexpectedly earnest in its tough guy talk, and the buzzing Jada does well to match the redundant Young Jeezy’s grumbly grumbling grumble(6).

But collectively, TLK feels bereft of any real point. A few songs, matter of fact, are simple repackaged presentations of past efforts. The Pharrell-provided “Stress Ya” sounds exactly like every other Pharrell-provided song from 2003-2005. I’m pretty sure “Rockin’ With The Best,” an economy of sound brag-track, has been on every Jada mixtape and album ever. And he even goes so far as to replicate “Why,” his one hit of consequence, with “What If,” which, you guessed it, begins each line of each bar with “what if…”(7)

There’s just enough underdog charm on Last to save it from being completely hopeless, but, again, it’s far from the greatness Jada’s been alluding to for the past decade or so.

Maybe it’s time we knocked him down a spot or two off of that list?

(1) It’s completely acceptable if Rakim finds his way up that high.

(2) He’s like rap’s Tracy McGrady.

(3) If I were going to name an album after a Jet Li movie -as far as I know, Jada did not pick the title based on that criteria, but that doesn’t stop “You mean like that shitty Jet Li movie?” comments from being made- I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t have been that one. I mean, it was cool and all, but what about The One? Or War? Or even Lethal Weapon 4? That was way better than The Last Kiss.

(4) Anybody seen him lately?

(5) Perhaps he’s more of a Lamar Odom.

(6) Speaking of, has a rapper ever squeezed more out of less than Jeezy? It’s admirable, really. He’s like a magician that keeps doing the same trick over and over, and yet no matter how many times you see it, you’re still impressed. That takes way more talent than actually learning a bunch of different tricks. ?uestlove knows a bunch of tricks, and look where that got him. On the Jimmy Fallon show. Who’s losing, really?

(7) You have to shoot this song down based on unoriginality alone, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less fun to listen to. Best questions: “What if Peyton was fighting dogs instead of Mike Vick?”; “What if Mike Jackson never would’ve bleached his skin?”; and “What if Shine Beat the case, what if Diddy did a dime flat?” The “What if I ever fulfilled my potential” and “What if I didn’t look so much like a mole?” lines must’ve been cut out during edits.

Predictions for the rest of 2009

The first quarter of 2009 was quite slow; Bow Wow’s latest was among its most notable releases, after all. The most annoying thing was that we were promised many albums that never saw the light of day, from Jay to Lupe to Big Boi to Paul Wall. (Just kidding about that last one - yes it was promised, no I’m not upset.) Still, it hasn’t been all bad; I’ve got nothing against the Jim Jones joint and the new MF Doom album — which I discuss here — is pretty damn good, as is the latest from Minneapolis rapper P.O.S.

What does the rest of the year hold? Glad you asked. Below are my predictions for the final three quarters; I can guarantee their accuracy within a margin of error of 4.39 percent.

Xzibit Records With Neil Young

The rap community is stunned when Pimp My Ride host Xzibit announces he has joined forces with aging hippie grunge god Neil Young to record an album dedicated to automobiles. It is entitled Struts, Shocks, Bud and Glocks. To promote the rock/rap hybrid work, Xzibit customizes Young’s 1959 bio-hydro-electric Lincoln Continental, repainting the exterior royal purple and adding 26 inch rims and suicide doors. Unfortunately, on his first trip out Young is robbed of his rims at gunpoint and subsequently abandons the project.

Eminem, Dr. Dre and 50 Cent albums see release on same day

Relapse, Detox and Before I Self-Destruct, the latest works from the marquee Shady/Aftermath artists, come out on the same July day. In an attempt to publicize the albums in the only way he knows how, 50 starts a beef with both Dre and Slim, his last known friends in the world. After the pair threaten to skip his birthday party, however, 50 retracts his comments and the albums fail.

Asher Roth Dates Eve

Ceasing his attempts to prove his hip hop legitimacy through his rhymes, Asher Roth begins trying to do so through his libido. Fresh off of a breakup, Eve is spotted with the Caucasian rapper at a DQ in Roth’s hometown of Morristown, Pennsylvania. She initially denies the affair but is forced to come clean when a paparazzi snaps a shot of her the newest tattoo on her chest, which reads: “Roth Ryder.”

Lil Wayne’s Rock Album Hits Number One

Lil Wayne’s rock album Rebirth debuts at number one upon its December debut, buoyed by the single “Headbanger’s Balls.” Its video features Wayne jamming with guys wearing tight pants and Pantera t-shirts in a heavy metal club, and is highlighted by a heart-stopping, whammy-bar-assisted, two-minute long guitar solo Wayne appears to play. Guns N’ Roses guitarist Buckethead, however, claims responsibility for the solo and sues for royalties, but the suit is dropped after the pair settle their differences over a dinner of cough-syrup flavored Hawaiian Punch and Popeye’s chicken.

Hip Hop's new 4 elements

I’ve always thought the “four elements” of hip hop were bogus. Sure, back in the early days of the genre rapping, djing, graffiti writing and break-dancing (excuse me, “b-boying”) were all somewhat interwoven into the culture of hip hop. But c’mon. Even back then, it was pretty arbitrary. I mean, it’s not like guys in the Bronx invented tagging. Cavemen were doing that thousands of years ago in their caves.

Nowadays, hip hop is pretty much just one element, rapping, and anyone who talks about four is either an old-timer or an obnoxious elitist. Not to disparage tagging or spinning — be it records or on the ground — but those practices don’t really have much to do with hip hop anymore, or at least what people around the world understand hip hop to be.

The culture has obviously evolved since DJ Kool Herc was playing at block parties, so I think it’s time the “four elements” evolve too.

We’ll keep rapping, obviously, but what else? Wikipedia has listed some other elements, so let’s consider those.

(A) Beatboxing. Um…no. The only people who beatbox today are kids on Riddlin and Jamie Lidell. Although that guy from Police Academy probably still does it, I guess.

(B) Hip hop fashion. Nah. There’s no common aesthetic in hip hop fashion ever since Jay-Z decided to change clothes and go.

(C) Hip hop slang. Since they buried “def” a while back I just don’t feeling comfortable with this.

(D) VJing. I have no idea what this is.

So, what else? What are the most beloved threads of the culture? I’ve thought about this long and hard, and here’s what I’ve come up with. Drum roll, please.

New hip hop element #1: Rims. Who doesn’t love a good rim? After all, if you’ve got nice rims, you’ve got a rap video right there. Personally I like my rims to be 56 inches, so that my car only really needs one tire.

New hip hop element #2: Brown Paper Bags. Any rapper worth his salt has stacks and stacks of cash. What do you think they do with all that cheddar? Invest it in the tanking stock market? Spread it on a Ritz cracker and enjoy a nice snack? I don’t think so. They stuff it into brown paper bags, is what they do.

New hip hop element #3: Girls with gigantic asses. If you ask a teenager in China who Nas is he’ll probably give you a blank stare, but if you ask him who Buffie the Body is, he’ll say “Duh” and point to the giant poster of her on his wall. Then his sister will show you the tattoo on her rear end that says “Tasty,” just like Buffie’s.

So there you have it. Hip hop’s new four elements are rapping, rims, brown paper bags, and girls with gigantic asses.

Now somebody go tell KRS-One, or something.

Fake Recognize Fake

Urban Dictionary defines the phrase “real recognize real” as an “idiom of hip hop culture used to refer to the tendency or ability for real individuals to identify, connect with, or otherwise respect, other real individuals.” The site offers up this hilarious sample usage:

Scalia: “I think equal protection is the most overextended rational in modern day justice”

Roberts: “agreed”

Scalia: “We see eye to eye on this don’t we?”

Roberts: “Hey, real recognize real.”

Scalia: “word”

I love Urban Dictionary, but I hate the phrase “real recognize real,” which has become - with apologies to “swagger” and “dope boy fresh” — hip hop’s most overused expression. Project Pat is only the most recent rapper to give his album this title; others include O.G. Ron C, Poe and St. Louis emcee Nite Owl. There are surely others. Lupe Fiasco has a song of that name, there’s a blog that calls itself that, and even a freaking rap group from Queens uses it as its moniker.

What’s the big deal? You may ask. Good question. I’m not sure why this bothers me so much, actually. Maybe I’m paranoid that one of these guys will see me walking down the street one day and, you guessed it, not recognize me.

But even more than that, to me it indicates the type of lazy, exclusionary thinking that’s so prevalent in hip hop. The idiom implies that They, the rapper, are the shit, while You, the listener, are a loser.

There’s something of a violent undertone to the phrase, too. It seems to indicate that You, the listener, could well be a rat. If real recognize real, then real also recognize fake, and the only reasonable course of action is to snuff you out.

This may be a bit of a stretch, but there’s no doubt this type of thinking has hurt both hurt hip hop’s creativity and its sales. Lazy masculine bravado doesn’t appeal to many people, and it actively excludes people like women and middle-aged folks. There’s about 75 percent of the record-buying public right there.

Thankfully, there are hip hop artists who recognize this and are doing things differently, to great success. Flo Rida’s “Right Round,” for example, is a good-times anthem that samples Dead or Alive’s ’80s dance floor standard “You Spin Me Round (Like A Record).” It was number one for weeks and has broken download records.

Hot on that track’s tail has been Soulja Boy’s “Kiss Me Thru The Phone,” a sweet rap ballad that has turned into his biggest hit since “Crank That (Soulja Boy).” Which makes it one more hit than anyone expected him to have.

I never imagined I’d be singing the praises of these balcony-urinating and (alleged) rabbit murdering emcees, but they both seem to have picked up on an important lesson - that gangster posturing no longer moves records.

You certainly don’t need to be “real” to recognize this; the proof is in the sales figures

Eminem’s New Video- Corny or Legit?

He’s got a new CD on the way, so Eminem’s latest video, “We Made You,” follows his traditional blueprint for early singles. Like “Just Lose It,” “Without Me,” “The Real Slim Shady,” and “My Name Is,” it’s a quick-paced, mainstream-accessible track that takes on defenseless pop culture figures. Whereas in the past he’s gone after folks like Moby, The Spice Girls, and N ‘Sync, this time he spoofs Jessica Simpson, Kim Kardashian, Sarah Palin and others. Though the videos are always funny, the marks always feel a bit too easy, and one wishes Em would have the balls to target, say, other rappers. (Can you imagine how hilarious it would be if he mocked Lil Wayne, T-Pain and Kanye West?) The other common thread in the videos is Dr. Dre, who has played Shady’s adversary, his shrink, his love interest, and, in one of “We Made You”’s funniest bits, his Starship Enterprise commander.

For the song, Em trots out that weird, high-pitched cadence he occasionally raps in, which sounds something like a British 14-year-old. It’s not as much fun as “Crack A Bottle,” in my opinion, but the video’s production quality is high and the concept is clever. The assembled characters - who also include Amy Winehouse, Lindsay Lohan and her (ex?)girlfriend Samantha Ronson - are competing for the affections of Em-as-Bret Michaels on a Rock Of Love type show.

How does “We Made You” stack up against Eminem’s other early singles? Pretty well, actually. It’s a far superior effort to “Just Lose It,” whose impersonations - Pee Wee Herman, Michael Jackson, Vanilla Ice - were already decades outdated when it came out. “The Real Slim Shady” holds up a little better, with Kathy Griffin starring as a One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest-style psychiatric nurse. The low-budget “My Name Is” is a trip to re-watch nowadays; Em dresses up like Johnny Carson and does his golf impression. “Without Me” is a parody of comic books, with a Dick Cheney barb thrown in for good measure. What strikes me about all these videos is how visually interesting they all are and how far Em is willing to go for a laugh; he doesn’t hesitate to don drag, puke, or fry himself in the electric chair.

One wonders how much longer a man who is now 36 can keep pulling off this type of high-octane youth-culture satire, and suspects he will probably keep doing it until another creative, silly emcee with his finger on the pulse of pop culture comes along. (That could be a while.) In any case, I’d bet that these videos will be watched for decades, and eventually serve as time capsules of their eras. Sure, people in the future won’t know who the hell Primus or Tom Green or Fred Durst are, but they’ll get a good sense of our goofy ’90s and ’00s celebrity landscape.

The Struggling Hip Hop Fashion Industry

Ever heard of the housing bubble? Well, something similar is going on in hip hop’s fashion industry right now, where new clothing lines sprout up nearly every day. In fact, almost every rapper or singer you can think of has launched an apparel line at one time or another. Recently, Akon and T-Pain announced their own, since, you know, the market for garish top hats is endless. And it’s not just rappers; Stilts from For the Love of Ray J has a fashion brand coming out this summer.

But just as many are shutting down. Just recently Young Buck’s line, David Brown Clothing, disappeared after less than a year, and everyone from Master P to Biggie to DMX has killed off a clothing line at one point in their lives. (Complex runs down ten of them here.)

Why is everyone in a rush to start a wack-ass apparel line? Well, because they’ve heard the success stories of entrepreneurs like Jay-Z, 50 Cent, Russell Simmons, Diddy, and Nelly.

The problem is that even the lines that seem to be succeeding, often aren’t. Sure, Nelly’s Apple Bottoms jeans has done all right (he definitely owes T-Pain a drink for all that product placement, by the way, or at least a drank) but remember Vokal? That company was touted as huge moneymaker when in actuality it didn’t make shit. I wrote an expose on it a couple years ago.

Vokal shut down production in June 2004 as a result of a legal dispute with its licensee, New York-based ALM International Corporation. ALM had been responsible for manufacturing and distributing Vokal’s products.

By the end of 2004, Vokal was prepared to re-enter the market. That November [co-founder Yomi] Martin told the St. Louis Business Journal he expected $25 million in sales for Vokal over the next eighteen months. He gave the St. Louis Post-Dispatch the same numbers.

But those figures seem to be a product of wishful thinking rather than a realistic business projection. Since the beginning of 2005, Vokal hasn’t manufactured a single item for sale in the U.S. Its Web site hasn’t been updated for two years.

But you can’t blame Nelly and co. for overstating their bottom lines. After all, they learned from the best, Russell Simmons, who could be called hip hop’s grandfather of fabricated financial figures. Though he claimed Phat Farm grossed $350 million in 2003, it turns out the actual figure was not even $20 million.

That’s just how rap business is done, he explained in a 2004 civil deposition: “It is how you develop an image for companies. So, in other words, you give out false statements to mislead the public so they will then increase in their mind the value of your company.”

Had Young Buck’s PR people distributed such creative earnings reports, who knows? Maybe he’d still be in business right now. Then again, if we learned anything from the housing market debacle, it’s that bubbles always burst.