Okay, okay. I know some of you may be thinking to yourselves right now – why do this? Why put yourself through the miserable and tiresome exercise that the Lil Wayne discography is sure to be? Is this something to do with the whole Superbowl debacle that’s going on right now? Are you going mental? And to you I answer: no. I am doing this for two reasons. One, because it will either be surprisingly good or terribly bad, which will make for fun writing either way. And two, because I have always kind of maintained in conversations and in my own head that Lil Wayne is pretty overrated. Sure, I’ve heard good bars from him, but his delivery makes me cringe, and a lot of his content seems to be about the most generic bullshit there is. And yes, there are a couple of dope hit songs he’s got, like “Six Foot Seven Foot” and “Love Me”, but even on these admitted bangers, he isn’t necessarily the main star of the show (okay, maybe he IS on the former of those, but whatever). For every good bar or piece of wordplay, there’s always something terrible going alongside it, most of the time being an awfully stale sex punchline – and I think we all know about some of Wayne’s godawful reaches when it comes to likening things to that activity his fans so desperately want to hear about (in his mind, that is). And don’t get me started on this man’s autotune – imagine how much better the chorus of The Game’s “My Life” would be if he had got someone who could actually sing to do it?
Still, for all the flaws I’ve picked out in his big hits and
guest appearances, there’s something I must admit – I never actually have taken
the time to sit down and listen to a whole entire Lil Wayne album, much less
his whole catalogue. So, since I’m back at college now and I have to spend lots
of time sat in a library with access to a computer, I’m going to run through
his whole ass discography – well, just the studio albums that is. Maybe we’ll
save the ton of mixtapes he’s put out over the years for later. I aim to discover if Lil Wayne really does deserve the constant praise that he gets, and if he deserves more accolade from me. And so, ladies
and gentlemen of the Beats, Rhymes & Reviews audience, I present to
you the first write-up in my [name to be thought about – it’s hard to think of
something as catchy as Murs-athon, you know!] – a review of Wayne’s
debut album, Tha Block Is Hot. I can’t front – that is a dope title.
I’m sure there are people out there who don’t realise this,
but Lil Wayne a/k/a Tunechi a/k/a Young Mula a/k/a Weezy (I could go on) has
actually been around since the late ‘90s, even though he didn’t get really big
until around 2008 with the release of one of his most recognisable projects, Tha
Carter III. Of course, a lot of rappers started long before they
hit the big time, but here’s the thing – Wayne was big back then too. I’m sure
we all know that he was signed to Cash Money, and was part of the group Hot
Boyz, along with Juvenile, Mannie Fresh, B.G., Birdman and a bunch of other
people who haven’t been relevant for twenty years. However, what I didn’t know
until recently was that his debut effort, that of the horrible cover art known
as Tha Block Is Hot, charted at no. 3 on the Billboard Hot 100. That’s
pretty crazy stuff. And speaking of his debut effort, here’s a review for that
now. Nice transition, huh?
Looking at the tracklist of this album, I’m struck by a
couple of thoughts. The first is that this album looks quite long. 17 tracks
for 70 minutes of music, without any skits at all to break up the monotony,
besides an intro which I pretty much could have predicted would be there. This
isn’t worrying exactly, but if I don’t end up enjoying the sound of this album
then that could be a big problem. And I do kind of know what to expect here,
mind – this is a late ‘90s Southern hip-hop album, so it’ll probably have club
ready beats that sound a bit cheap but still bump nonetheless, and lyrics that
revolve around bragging, sex, bragging and violence. You know, nice stuff. The features
on here consist of quite a few members of the Cash Money Millionares collective
– that’s B.G., Juvenile, Big Tymers and Turk – and also some guy
called Papa Reu, whom I haven’t ever heard before. A good thing, or a bad? You
decide. Oh, and the beats on this album are all done by Mannie Fresh, who did
pretty much all of the stuff for this collective – overworking can be a good
thing of course, but I hope that the guy had some good ideas after all of the
stuff he’d already put out.
I’m kinda just droning on now, but the effect of that isn’t
necessarily bad – I actually find myself rather excited to start this thing up now.
So, let’s get going then. Lil Wayne. Tha Block Is Hot. Here we go.
All songs are produced by Mannie Fresh.
1. Intro (feat. Big Tymers)
Well, this was a rap album intro, featuring Birdman
and Mannie Fresh hyping up our host over a fairly triumphant instrumental that
I didn’t mind too much. Still, if you could refer back to the first seven words
of this paragraph, that would be much appreciated.
2. Tha Block Is Hot
3. Loud Pipes (feat. Big Tymers, Juvenile & B.G.)
Why is this song so long, man? The instrumental on here
sounds like it was stolen from Swizz Beatz’ hard-drive of rejects, and then
tweaked to sound even louder and more obnoxious than it already was, and the
rapping doesn’t help it either. Mannie Fresh delivers a fairly good performance to open
the track up, and I didn’t mind B.G.’s efforts either, but unfortunately
Birdman sounds completely off beat and awkward throughout his sixteen bars of
bullshit, and Lil Wayne’s sing-songy flow was just straight up annoying. Also,
the Juvenile hook will probably haunt me to the end of my days. Yeah, I didn’t
like this that much.
4. Watcha Wanna Do
A hell of a lot better than the previous song, but nothing
really worth returning to either. Wayne’s lyrics revolve around the fact that
while he may look like a short little kid (because let’s face it, that’s what
he was), he’ll still find ways to mess you up and possibly kill you, all the
while coming up with strangely ineffective insults to call you (see “feminine
punk” – I mean, what sort of name-calling is that??). The lyrics
themselves aren’t terrible, but I don’t find the overall concept easy to take
seriously, especially when we’ve got this instrumental behind them that goes
for “aggressive and haunting” but instead lands somewhere around “fairly
unsettling but ultimately dull”. The hook’s pretty fun, but otherwise this was
merely eh.
5. Kisha (feat. the Hot Boys)
Nah, man. Just… nah. I honestly can’t believe these guys
chose what is actually the best instrumental so far, with its intense melody
and urgent sound, and turned it into this awful storytelling track where the
four MCs (Wayne, Turk, Juvenile and B.G.) take turns describing sexual
encounters with THE SAME DAMNED GIRL. This is just an exercise in shaming women
– I mean, I’m sure these guys don’t have a few months break after their relationships end, so why should it be OK for them to talk like this? I could
not stand this song, man.
6. High Beamin’ (feat. B.G.)
Over what is easily the most godawful beat we’ve heard over
the entire course of this album, Lil Wayne and B.G. rap about money meanwhile
forgetting that they’re supposed to be, you know, entertaining us. There’s
not really much to say here – no bars of note, nothing good to mention in the
beat, some terrible sing-songy flows here and there, and a horrible chorus.
This is the worst song yet. Jesus, man.
7. Lights Off
From what I’m seeing, this is one of the more well regarded
songs on the album. My question – why the hell is that?? On this song, it seems
Wayne initially spit these murderous and violent lyrics over a completely
different beat, as the one on here is soft as a bowl of melting ice cream, and
about as strong. Yeah, I said it – aside from the cool drum experimentation at
the end, this beat is horrid. And considering he’s widely regarded as
one of the greatest of all time, I’m finding it hard to actually get any good
bars out of these songs. I mean, they’re not bad or anything, but most of the
lyrics on this track fail to stick with me, or make me want to highlight them
here. I’m sorry, but I did not like this one at all.
8. Fuck Tha World
Looks like we’re naming our songs after 2Pac classics now.
Nice work, Wayne. Nice work. Still, I have to admit that this was actually a
pretty great track, even if the instrumental sounded kind of tacky if you ask
me – imagine Jay-Z’s “Lucky Me” beat if it was made with a budget of £5.50. The
actual rapping, however, was great, as Lil Wayne does a 1-80 on the violent and
braggadocios content we’ve heard so far, and actually starts to rap about his
real life struggles, including the loss of his father, being poor, and having a
child at a very young age – I feel like now is a good time to note that Wayne
was young when this album came out. That’s probably why most of what we’ve
heard so far isn’t very good, but this is, trust me. I’ll even forgive the fact
that he stole this title. Not a bad song, Weezy. Not bad at all.
9. Remember Me (feat. B.G.)
This was another instance of a song just going on for a bit
longer than it should have, but all in all I didn’t mind this one. I actually
liked the slightly unorthodox beat, with it’s futuristic sound effects and all,
and Lil Wayne kept things entertaining with his brags and what have you that
we’ve pretty much become entirely used to at this stage of the album. The
chorus from B.G. (which hilariously refers to the host as “Weezy Wee”) is quite
godawful, though, and as I said I feel like this would have worked better with
just two verses, as it starts to get a bit headache inducing after a while.
Still, I kind of enjoyed this one.
10. Respect Us (feat. Juvenile)
11. Drop It Like It’s Hot (feat. B.G. & Mannie Fresh)
Mannie Fresh actually did kind of a good job on his other
feature here, so hopefully I can look forward to his performance on this one. Also,
Wayne was indeed the person to first use this phrase in hip-hop, not the Snoop
D-O-double-G like you might think. Honestly, I enjoyed this beat a lot, as it
sounded like a lot more effort and, you know, money had been put into
it, and I also liked the hook, which interpolated the lines from Juvenile’s
“Back That Azz Up” that give this song its name. Unfortunately, not everything
about this could be defended – the second of Wayne’s two verses was pretty
good, but his first was weak, and goddamn what does Mannie Fresh think he’s up
to on here? That verse was horrific. I’m not one to advocate for
censorship, but I really think that that should have been cut. This is still one of
the better songs here, but remember – that’s not a good thing. This is still
quite bad.
12. Young Playa (feat. Big Tymers)
No, no, no. This song title is godawful. Wayne starts this
one with some creepy laughing, before launching into an awful vocal delivery
and selection of lyrics that are nothing more than dull, boastful gibberish.
Why is he betting on Kobe? Why is that relevant? Funnily enough, Birdman and
Mannie Fresh don’t even rap on here – they simply provide spoken interludes
between each verse. Was that really worth the feature credit? I mean, really??
Also, I didn’t mention it, but this beat is really weak. Honestly, I just
heard another line about something disgusting, and I can’t be prepared with
this one anymore. It’s bad. Just bad.
13. Enemy Turf (feat. Juvenile)
Well, at least this song isn’t about sex. Instead,
Wayne and Juvenile (who actually bothers to deliver a verse on this one) talk
about how conditions are so poor in their hometowns that they feel that they’re
on “enemy turf”, but make no mistake – they aren’t sad about this. It’s merely
an excuse to discuss more violence, not that I mind too much, as Juvenile does
sound quite convincing on here – also, he’s easily the most unique member of
Cash Money from what I’m seeing, or at least the incarnation of the group at
that time. Wayne does a solid job too, and I even thought the beat bopped along
quite nicely. Yeah, I liked this one a lot. Well, a lot is an
overstatement, but still I quite enjoyed it.
14. Not Like Me (feat. Big Tymers)
Oh great, another Big Tymers feature. Thank God it’s the
last. Still, I didn’t dislike this song either – the chorus from an apparently
uncredited Papa Rue notwithstanding, since I hate it. Yes, “I got so much money
I know who killed Kennedy” might be the stupidest rap lyric of the ‘90s, but on
the other hand the instrumental on this one was actually quite moving, and I
really enjoyed all of the performances from the three artists here. Yeah, it’s
not top tier stuff, but this did me fine.
15. Come On (feat. B.G.)
Well, I guess we’ve given up on creative song titles. And creative
songs. Why is this so repetitive? Did they not hear that? What the hell is
this? Nothing about this song is worth mentioning – it’s not even bad, it’s
just really bland and boring. Come on guys, we almost had a good run there!!
16. Up To Me
I guess Weezy finally mastered the art of creating a proper
song with this one, as this track actually has a unique theme that is followed
through satisfactorily, and it has a beat that doesn’t get old after a minute
and a half – well, I guess we’ve got Mannie to thank for that latter point. The
production on here was really nice and poignant, and Wayne uses it to rap about
his deceased stepfather, and about how he’s going to carry on his ways in
remembrance of him – he also uses a lot of the track to directly address his
father. This is also one of the first times on the album where some lines have
stuck out to me for a good reason – I really liked “but the same thing make ya
laugh, make ya cry, and everybody that you love it’s like they have to die”.
Yeah, this was actually a really good song – in fact, it’s my favourite so far.
17. You Want War (feat. Turk)
For the closing song on this album, Weezy finally realises
that you don’t need a bullshit hook to make a good song, and decides to have
this song with just three verses – two from him, and one in the middle from
Turk, who must be the guy from Cash Money that no-one actually remembers. I
enjoyed this a decent amount, and I loved Weezy’s flow towards the end, but
there’s no way this was the best way we could have ended things. This is a song
for the middle of the album at best.
Look. I know he’s well regarded. I know that he’ll probably
get better from here. I’ll even acknowledge that there were a few bangers on
this album. But that doesn’t change the overwhelming truth present here – this
album is not good. Not only is it not good. It’s actually quite bad.
Firstly, I have my big issues with the production. Most of the beats on this
album are repetitive, annoying, cheap and ultimately ineffective at creating a
good soundscape for whatever Wayne is trying to say. Even the best beats here
don’t match up to anything Ghostface Killah or Common would have had on their
albums through their career, and the worst ones are straight up god awful. Some
of the more positive sounding ones are the worst here – what the hell were they
even trying to do on “High Beamin'”? Or “Young Playa”? There isn’t much in the
way of good production here, but to be honest the same could be said for the
rapping. Almost every song here deals with the same old rubbish that a lot of
mainstream hip-hop in the late 1990s and early 2000s did – violence, bragging
and sex. And it’s not even tasteful – there’s no self awareness, no hint that
the things talked about throughout this album aren’t actually very good. It’s
all negative, and it’s all repetitive too. I know Wayne was 17 and probably
thought bragging about expensive guns on a rap album was the best job in the
world, but in retrospect these lyrics aren’t good. At all. Of course, Wayne did have a few
personal moments on here, specifically with “Fuck tha World” and “Up to Me”,
but aside from these it's slim pickings. The features on here were weak as hell
too – I’m a fan of Juvenile, but even he tends to just do the hook on the songs
he appears on, and everyone else just can’t be bothered to provide anything
insightful or well-executed to the table apparently. And why the hell did this need to be so long? An album like this should be 11 tracks, tops. It's unfortunate that it's often the least engaging rappers who chuck the most music on each LP. Yeah, I didn’t like this album much. There
were a couple of good joints, but nothing really worth returning to, and some
pretty terrible moments too. I just hope to God that things improve from here, because
if they don’t then I think I’ll begin to regret this album run, and very
quickly…
Best Track: "Up to Me"
Worst Track: "Young Playa"
Oh, and I'm going to start scoring these albums too - I'll rank them all at the end, and also explain my reasoning if I happen to up or down a rating.
49/100
No comments:
Post a Comment