Eminem - Recovery (2010)

After a depressed and drug addicted Eminem released the lukewarm Encore in 2004, he went on hiatus for almost five years before returning with 2009′s Relapse.  Once again, the reception was less than stellar.  Recovery is Eminem’s attempt to put Encore and Relapse behind him and rekindle what it was that made him great from 1999-2002.

It’s hard for me to consider Recovery a successful album.  It definitely sounds more like Em’s older releases than did Encore or Relapse, but it does so in many of the wrong ways.  He doesn't seem to have updated his list of pop culture references since The Eminem Show, making references to Austin Powers and Mariah Carey (go figure).  The primary theme of the album seems to be apologizing for his last couple releases.

To Em’s credit, the rapping on this album is actually very good from a technical standpoint.  The rhyme schemes are extremely intricate.  The problem is what he’s saying.  All the cleverness and wit of his early releases is long gone; he doesn't even have shock value anymore.  The whole album is painfully lacking in catchy, singalong, tracks.  Unfortunately, most of the memorable lines are notable for being bad.  It’s practically devoid of any hooks whatsoever.  Eminem sings most of the ones that are present and… well, let’s just say that there is a reason Em doesn't have a singing career.

For an attempt to return to his 1999-2002 form, there was an incredible shortage of Dr. Dre and self produced tracks on Recovery.  Dre ended up with only one credit, with Em himself not being the primary producer of a single track.  Em’s Rolodex must’ve gotten a workout contacting all the producers on this album.  Marquee producers, DJ Khalil and Just Blaze got the most production credits, with four and three, respectively.  If you’re a fan of lots of soft rock samples in your hip-hop, the production on Recovery will be a treat for you.  For the other 95% of us, listening to Recovery is a long 77 minutes of dreary keyboards and awkward samples that don’t fit together in any sort of cohesive manner.

Of course, as a hip-hop snob, I would be remissed if I failed to mention the presence of Lil Wayne, Pink and Rihanna on the album.  How could any fan of 1999-2002 Eminem not feel at least a little betrayed by their presence?  Em told us that he was going to try and return back to the sound that we all know and love, and instead we get him collaborating with exactly the kind of people that he built his career making fun of.  That’s the definition of selling out; becoming what you would have once mocked.

Despite all my criticisms, Recovery is worth a spin or two.  Yeah, it falls way short of what he wanted it to be, but there is reason to be optimistic about Eminem’s future.  Unlike on Encore, Eminem shows that he is still a very technically skilled rapper.  A few more quotable hooks would’ve really served this album well, if for no other reason than to distract from the occasional painfully bad lines that end up being the most memorable.  Really, what brought this album down was the production, though.  How, as a producer, you can not provide top shelf beats for an Eminem album is beyond me, but it just seemed like the beats were phoned in.  Remember when Just Blaze used to be good?

Best Tracks: Talkin 2 Myself, Love the Way You Lie, Cinderella Man, Going Through Changes

Overall: 55/100

Kno - Death is Silent (2010)

The concern with concept albums is whether the artist decides to take a literal or abstract approach.  Death Is Silent’s concept adheres to the former.  Intensely.  It’s obvious from the mere title of the album that death and dying and all that depressing stuff will be the order.  Whether Kno thinks little of his fan’s deciphering skills, or he himself is lacking the intelligence to compile an album that challenges the listener to discover the concept on their own, is definitely up for discussion.

Kno has a beautiful ability to construct a dope backdrop.  His well-known use of obscure samples and talent with layering strings on synths on drums is unquestionable.  But this is not an instrumental album. What could have been a near perfect collection of songs is let down by his straight up average presence on the mic and frown-inducing delivery.

He is vocally outdone on almost every track that has a guest.  Examples of Kno being owned completely include Natti’s dominance on “If You Cry”, Nemo Achida’s incredible storytelling on “Loneliness” and Tonedeff’s stunning first verse effort on “I Wish I Was Dead”, easily a contender for verse of the album.  Kno’s best verses comes from the tracks “They Told Me”, where he divulges his private anxieties in plain sight and “La Petite Mort (Come Die With Me)”, a cleverly veiled ode to sex that will take a few listens and perhaps some experience in the subject to unravel.  It’s one thing to be a talented lyricist.  Which he is.  But his sappy and frail delivery wrecks the elegance of his lyrics.

Despite Kno’s tendency to say corny things, what makes this album an excellent addition to your music collection, is his capacity to create honest stories over magical beats.  Atmospheric is a word that is more and more being incorrectly used to describe crowded production, but here it totally belongs.  This has atmosphere in spades.  The production is by far the standout element and it’s Kno who is solely responsible for it.

So do his cheesy verses get a pass because he is a ‘part-time’ MC?  Well, no.  He has shown some great propensity for spitting on the CunninLynguist albums.  Maybe he was so caught up in the producing side of the album and neglected the vocal aspect?  Perhaps.  What’s obvious is if this was, say, a Tonedeff album, with the same concept and production, it would have been universally accepted as a top 3 album of 2010.  It’s a frustrating album, so agonizing close to perfection but missing the most important part of any hip hop record; top notch MC skills.

Highs:  Production on ALL tracks is amazing.  The concept runs nicely throughout, and while it is a gloomy concept, it never feels unbearably heavy and tiresome; in fact, it’s a highly energetic album from start to finish.

Lows:  Not enough Tonedeff.

87/100

Big Boi - Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty (2010)

“The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.”  In hip hop, words are often flipped, skewed and spun to mean different things.  And so it applies to this quote.  In terms of hip hop groups, the parts are often greater than the sum.  Lauren Hill is more than The Fugees, Cee-Lo is more than Goodie Mob and Scarface is more than Geto Boys.  But does it apply to Big Boi and OutKast with Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty?  Yes.

To say it was a rocky road for Big Boi to get the album out is a huge understatement.  Label problems that would give AZ nightmares ensued, and he was forced to approach Def Jam for distribution.  Fast forward to July 2010 and the album finally sees the light of day, taking over 3 years and a label jump to get there.  So what did we get?

Production is a mish mash of live instruments, vocal manipulators, a good amount of quality singing and interesting samples.  Running under all of that are strong bass lines, frenzied drum patterns and pure energy.  Big Boi gets help from some big names alongside the ever present Organized Noize crew, with Salaam Remi, Scott Storch and Lil Jon amongst others, on the boards.  This album never lets up, there’s no chance to pause, no gap in the line to take a breath, just 14 tracks that come at you over and over, forcing you to keep up or get run over.

Big Boi’s prowess on the mic is absolute and even with a large roster of guest rappers, he is never out-rapped.  He brings the laughs all over the album and manages to relay his funny antics without coming off far-fetched or corny.  You never feel the need to say “Boy, stop!” because he’s genuinely an entertaining MC.  That’s his main strength, incredibly likeable and always spirited.

A couple of issues.  The album is so upbeat, so animated, that you have no arc from intro to end.  It plateaus from start to finish, there’s no build up, no cool down and no ebb and flow in between.  You may find yourself saying ‘more of the same’ about the tracks, thanks to the near identical tempo of nearly every song.  This album only has one speed and it’s 6th gear fast, shifting down only once or twice before taking off again.

Another problem, which has no real bearing on Big Boi, is the exclusion of the songs “Lookin’ for Ya” and “Royal Flush” from the official release.  With guest verses from Andre 3000 and Raekwon, they not only fit right in with the other tracks but would have served to enhance the album tenfold.  The reason they were left off is a business one but that’s really not worth talking about, since both songs were leaked by Big Boi himself and are easily available online.  I suggest you add them to your digital copy of this album manually, in a sort of middle finger gesture to the spiteful record label.

Highs:  General Patton, Shutterbugg, Daddy Fat Sax, Shine Blockas, some of the most hilarious skits on any album and the general sense of fun and joy the album gives.

Lows:  The singing on Follow Us can be irritating.  Yelawolf’s verse on You Ain’t No DJ.  More of Big Boi or the gut-busting end skit and Yelawolf completely scrapped would’ve been great.

89/100