Here are the albums I wrote about for the Feb. issue of EL Magazine, which comes out today. Though we continue to use the term “CD” in the magazine, I’ve decided to change the related blog post to “album” since several of these came into my possession over my net connection (legally, mind you; I still beg record companies for samples). Obviously, many of them are already “old” if you consider when they were released outside of Japan. I’d prefer to think of them as more seasoned, and my listening habits more leisurely.

My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy
-Kanye West (Def Jam/Universal)
No Mercy
-T.I. (Atlantic/Warner)
Major label hip-hop isn’t dead, but there was little of it released last year that brought me out of myself. The Drake album was underwhelming, the Rick Ross thing generic to a fault; even The Roots’ How I Got Over felt inconsequential compared to much of their previous work. And then Kanye West stepped up with what has been roundly declared the album of the year, and for good reason. West remains one of the few big money rappers who still runs on inspiration, a commodity that has proved to be in ever-decreasing supply as hip-hop became the de facto pop music of the new millennium, and I include Lil Wayne in that equation. West’s prog-rock obsessions are what supposedly made his last album a near dud, but he’s a musician who understands that obsessions, regardless of how thoroughly they can screw up your judgment in the realm of real life, are capable of giving birth to real art, and West is nothing if not a self-conscious artist. Explicit in the title of his new album, his obsessions bear impressive musical and thematic fruit, whether it’s in the brilliantly utilized samples of everything from King Crimson to Mike Oldfield, the laser-like bead he takes on his own disturbing pecadilloes, or the insistence on incorporating guests who will both upstage him (Nicki Minaj, in particular) and provide startling contrast (Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon). In the album’s centerpiece, “Runaway,” West toasts the “douchebags, assholes, scumbags and jerkoffs” who are “gifted at finding what [they] don’t like the most.” Tension emerges from the play between this self-doubt and the arrogance implicit in the rapping tone, and which is ratcheted up with music so confident and immediate it can stand up to one of Gil Scott-Heron’s most caustic rants. Moreover, Fantasy is a real album, a collection of songs that complement and build on one another, just like the classic prog rock records that seem to have inspired West in the first place. T.I.’s latest album is more in the conventional hip-hop style, “inspired” by what is unfortunately a cliche hip-hop situation: incarceration. The Georgia rapper had scheduled a different release to celebrate his own after a year inside on a gun conviction, but then he was collared for a parole violation (drugs) and sent back, and No Mercy is what we get instead. Consequently, some people are interpreting its conciliatory tone as a cave-in to popular opprobrium, having obviously expected something tougher. For sure, the self-pity is often risible (“it’s so empty living behind these castle walls”) but introspection doesn’t automatically disqualify a rapper as Kanye proves, and if this very long CD sounds like it was hastily decked out with tracks from the B-files to achieve its more chart-friendly purposes, well, T.I. is a chart-friendly guy, and while the party cuts may indicate to fans that he’s not as remorseful as the other tracks imply, they’re still party cuts. Continue reading





