“I’ve listened to about seven of the tracks. It’s just aiight…probably a solid 7.0 at this point.”
The above quote came from me and conveys what I thought of the debut album from Joe Budden two weeks ago. Believe me, that’s the last time I give any album a “partial” review. Hip Hop fans know the story of “the next big thang”. Underground mix tape legend, to over three years of Def Jam inertia to 2003 debut album. This year will undoubtedly go down as the year of 50 Cent in music and entertainment, but is it possible that Budden’s debut is better?
#1 is yet another in a long line of “back-in-the-day” tracks that seem to be a staple on every east coast album these days. It distinguishes itself nicely, however, with its tight beat and subject matter. His breadth of references include “Mike” Fox from Back to the Future, New Edition, the Commodore 64 and Jimmy Snuka.
We move on from Budden’s Hip Hop history lesson and into Dealin’ 101. Pusha Man is a gritty, grimy cut that does an excellent job of walkin’ the fine line between celebratin’ the life of a dealer, while warning that there is no happy ending for those who go that route. There’s such a palpable sense of realism with Budden’s words, which is extremely rare in current rap efforts. That authenticity helps turn very good tracks into great or nearly great ones.
Walk With Me is Joe’s first person account of who is he and where he came from. Right away, you know this isn’t gonna be the usual tale of excess and extravagance:
Yo…I’m seeing a couple things wrong with the way that I’m living
So come and walk with me I just need a second opinion
Introduce you to my friends I got to see if you notice
If they loyal or if they all got an ulterior motive
Budden’s seems to spin from paranoia to self-loathing to manic depression on the track and does it all with a level of vulnerability that I haven’t seen since…ah, hell let’s jus’ say it…since Tupac.
Dudes I don’t know they recognize me start extending they hand
And I’m trippin ready for beef when he was only a fan (why?)
Speakin’ of vulnerability, it’s apparent again on 10 Minutes which could be a song of the year contender…if it wasn’t 10 minutes long. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great track and Budden makes the most of his 600 seconds. He talks hopelessly about his imprisoned father:
And even if by a miracle he makes it half way out
It won’t be parole y’all, it be the half way house
His accusatory girlfriend:
My hectic schedule, she ain’t considerate
So all I hear is the complaints and bickerin
Radios, studios, photo shoots
She think I’m f#ckin every girl that say I’m oh so cute
There’s simply not enough space here to cover everything he hits on. Then, in less than half the track time (but with no less effectiveness) he speaks on his troubled-but-now healing relationship with his mother on Calm Down. Some of the imagery is truly frightening and amazingly effective without the use of any hyperbolic gangsta posturing:
Listen… ain’t shit like seeing your moms crying on the floor
Knowing you the reason why she ain’t alright no more
But so young, I was like whatever
You use to chase me through the house with the knife like, ‘get your life together!’
One of the thangs that stood out while I listened to this album, was the number of tracks I wanted to replay after their initial spin. Stand Up Nucca is a series of rapid-fire one-liners that describe who’s really reppin’ the streets. Real Life In Rap takes aim at all the “studio gangstas” who don’t live their lyrics.
The only times Joe Budden slips and stumbles are when he devolves into played out themes and clichés. He’s infinitely better than the material on Porno Star. In addition, tracks like Pump It Up, She Wanna Know and Survivor aren’t very deep (I know they probably aren’t supposed to be) and seem to overstay their welcome about a minute into them.
