Listening Priority: High
While (No) Malice spent early 2011 promoting his memoir Wretched, Pitiful, Poor, Blind, and Naked and emphasizing his newfound faith, his brother and Clipse partner Pusha T dropped Fear of God, an unremarkable mixtape save for the Hitboy-produced "My God." On that song, Push clues us in (in case we hadn't been listening ) to who his god is: Mammon. Rappers inflate their drug tales or reflect sorrowfully on them, but few take as much joy in the act of slangin' than King Push. It may put associates behind bars or family members into rehab, but - where Malice recognized the error of his ways - Pusha laughs it off. He takes joy in not just lining his own pockets, but also acting as a corrupting influence ("they say I'm on the verge of winning / I claim victory when Malice is on the verge of sinning"). At a time when some of rap has shifted toward introspection, Pusha's attitude might seem regressive, but it's also incredibly refreshing to hear a rapper who relishes playing the villain.
Where Pusha was usually a private to No Malice or Kanye West's captain, My Name is My Name lets him pull a Kelly's Heroes, as he goes AWOL over a variety of beats with an all-star cast to establish his name as a solo artist. Malice was always my favorite writer of the two, but Pusha T has upped his lyrical levels. He throws out humorously honest lines ("Always knew I could rule the world / Let's define what my world is / knee deep in this dope money / damn near where my world ends") and great images ("20 plus years of selling Johnson & Johnson," "gunshots in the dark like a sweet serenade"). Pusha also gets deeper into storytelling (see: "S.N.I.T.C.H.") and crafts multi-layered lyrics ("I wanted mine purer / Aryan blonde hair, blue-eyed like the Fuhrer"). His wild references, from his Ric Flair "WOO" to his use of Doctor Zhivago, Rocky IV, and Boyz N' the Hood within the space of three lines , sets him somewhat apart from other rappers (although he does namecheck familiar upscale brands). Beat wise, the album is broken down into: crossover attempts with stars who are past their expiration date ("Sweet Serenade," "No Regrets," "Let Me Love You"), two very different Pharrell beats ("Suicide," "S.N.I.T.C.H."), what seems like a Magna Carta Holy Grail leftover ("40 Acres"), and GOOD joints that sound recycled from the Cruel Summer/Yeezus sessions ("King Push," "Numbers on the Boards," "Hold On," "Who I Am," "Nosetalgia," "Pain"). With Pusha's relatively rough flow and lyrical content, the dark, jagged beats in the final category fit the best, but he manages to sound solid over every beat here. It seems as though, after the semi-awkward Fear of God material, Pusha's raps became as confident as his lyrics and he gained the ability to flow over anything *.
The features generally serve the songs well: Future drops a nice hook on "Pain," 2Chainz does what he does best** on "Who I Am," Chris Brown haunts "Sweet Serenade," and Rick Ross delivers a shockingly solid verse on "Hold On." Big Sean takes a huge bellyflop on "Who I Am" ("I'm feeling like a grown ass lil' boy, cause I still love to get pampered"), but that's expected from him and fortunately it comes at the end of the song, so you can just skip it or get on that Audacity tip. And of course, Kendrick Lamar lyrically and flowically murders the second half of "Nosetalgia," telling a multi-generational rap game/crack game story in which even a small phrase like "your son dope" has multiple meanings. Despite the brief renegade from K. Dot (who seems to kill everyone these days), Pusha T proves himself to be a star who can carry an album without Malice or Kanye. Limited in scope but executed beautifully , My Name is My Name continues the Clipse legacy while exploring some new sonic territory.
While (No) Malice spent early 2011 promoting his memoir Wretched, Pitiful, Poor, Blind, and Naked and emphasizing his newfound faith, his brother and Clipse partner Pusha T dropped Fear of God, an unremarkable mixtape save for the Hitboy-produced "My God." On that song, Push clues us in (in case we hadn't been listening ) to who his god is: Mammon. Rappers inflate their drug tales or reflect sorrowfully on them, but few take as much joy in the act of slangin' than King Push. It may put associates behind bars or family members into rehab, but - where Malice recognized the error of his ways - Pusha laughs it off. He takes joy in not just lining his own pockets, but also acting as a corrupting influence ("they say I'm on the verge of winning / I claim victory when Malice is on the verge of sinning"). At a time when some of rap has shifted toward introspection, Pusha's attitude might seem regressive, but it's also incredibly refreshing to hear a rapper who relishes playing the villain.
Where Pusha was usually a private to No Malice or Kanye West's captain, My Name is My Name lets him pull a Kelly's Heroes, as he goes AWOL over a variety of beats with an all-star cast to establish his name as a solo artist. Malice was always my favorite writer of the two, but Pusha T has upped his lyrical levels. He throws out humorously honest lines ("Always knew I could rule the world / Let's define what my world is / knee deep in this dope money / damn near where my world ends") and great images ("20 plus years of selling Johnson & Johnson," "gunshots in the dark like a sweet serenade"). Pusha also gets deeper into storytelling (see: "S.N.I.T.C.H.") and crafts multi-layered lyrics ("I wanted mine purer / Aryan blonde hair, blue-eyed like the Fuhrer"). His wild references, from his Ric Flair "WOO" to his use of Doctor Zhivago, Rocky IV, and Boyz N' the Hood within the space of three lines , sets him somewhat apart from other rappers (although he does namecheck familiar upscale brands). Beat wise, the album is broken down into: crossover attempts with stars who are past their expiration date ("Sweet Serenade," "No Regrets," "Let Me Love You"), two very different Pharrell beats ("Suicide," "S.N.I.T.C.H."), what seems like a Magna Carta Holy Grail leftover ("40 Acres"), and GOOD joints that sound recycled from the Cruel Summer/Yeezus sessions ("King Push," "Numbers on the Boards," "Hold On," "Who I Am," "Nosetalgia," "Pain"). With Pusha's relatively rough flow and lyrical content, the dark, jagged beats in the final category fit the best, but he manages to sound solid over every beat here. It seems as though, after the semi-awkward Fear of God material, Pusha's raps became as confident as his lyrics and he gained the ability to flow over anything *.
The features generally serve the songs well: Future drops a nice hook on "Pain," 2Chainz does what he does best** on "Who I Am," Chris Brown haunts "Sweet Serenade," and Rick Ross delivers a shockingly solid verse on "Hold On." Big Sean takes a huge bellyflop on "Who I Am" ("I'm feeling like a grown ass lil' boy, cause I still love to get pampered"), but that's expected from him and fortunately it comes at the end of the song, so you can just skip it or get on that Audacity tip. And of course, Kendrick Lamar lyrically and flowically murders the second half of "Nosetalgia," telling a multi-generational rap game/crack game story in which even a small phrase like "your son dope" has multiple meanings. Despite the brief renegade from K. Dot (who seems to kill everyone these days), Pusha T proves himself to be a star who can carry an album without Malice or Kanye. Limited in scope but executed beautifully , My Name is My Name continues the Clipse legacy while exploring some new sonic territory.
Key Tracks: "Nosetalgia," "Numbers on the Boards," "Hold On," "Pain," "King Push"
Side Notes:
* Although, yes, he turns into Fabolous or Ma$e on "Let Me Love You."
** (Making relatively stupid lyrics and puns sound good)
The current divide between No Malice's spiritual awakening and Pusha T's reaffirmation of an illegal life is fascinating in a biblical or Sopranos sort of way. One can only hope that it ends well. Or if it doesn't, that there's at least an epic slow-motion downfall montage. Until then, there are just Malice's video excerpts from his memoir.
There's something interesting about Pusha T calling out "fakes" ("I ain't hearing none of that street shit / Cause in my mind, you motherfuckers sold soap") on a song that features Rick Ross.
If you want a postdoctoral researcher at the University of Colorado-Boulder's Laboratory for Race and Popular Culture simplify rap/reveal ignorance/explain hip-hop to the NPR & The Wire crowd, check out Slate's article. Or don't. It might contribute to Slate's death.
Kendrick's memory of "smokers repeatedly buying my Sega Genesis" is traumatizing but brilliant. Also, his verse is a great extension of his "Control" line "I don't smoke crack, motherfucker, I sell it!"
Side Notes:
* Although, yes, he turns into Fabolous or Ma$e on "Let Me Love You."
** (Making relatively stupid lyrics and puns sound good)
The current divide between No Malice's spiritual awakening and Pusha T's reaffirmation of an illegal life is fascinating in a biblical or Sopranos sort of way. One can only hope that it ends well. Or if it doesn't, that there's at least an epic slow-motion downfall montage. Until then, there are just Malice's video excerpts from his memoir.
There's something interesting about Pusha T calling out "fakes" ("I ain't hearing none of that street shit / Cause in my mind, you motherfuckers sold soap") on a song that features Rick Ross.
If you want a postdoctoral researcher at the University of Colorado-Boulder's Laboratory for Race and Popular Culture simplify rap/reveal ignorance/explain hip-hop to the NPR & The Wire crowd, check out Slate's article. Or don't. It might contribute to Slate's death.
Kendrick's memory of "smokers repeatedly buying my Sega Genesis" is traumatizing but brilliant. Also, his verse is a great extension of his "Control" line "I don't smoke crack, motherfucker, I sell it!"