Terror Squad – True Story Review

The Terror Squad was originally formed in 1998, when rappers Fat Joe and Big Punisher joined forces. Not surprisingly, some of their protégés came along for the ride and a year later, the group had released their self-titled first album, which barely registered a blip on the Hip Hop radar screen.

Big Pun was readying his follow-up to his breakthrough album (1998’s Capital Punishment) when he tragically passed away at the age of 28 in February 2000. Many fans thought that Terror Squad would go the way of Tupac’s Outlawz and Biggie Smalls’ Junior M.A.F.I.A., two other groups who never again enjoyed commercial success after their leaders died.

It took a few years, as Fat Joe embarked on a successful crossover career and the group’s membership endured some comings and goings, but on the heels of one of the biggest singles of 2004, Terror Squad has returned.

In addition to Fat Joe, the group’s current membership is as follows:

Remy Ma: The latest in a long line of voluptuous female MCs, she’s already been anointed with the backhanded compliment of “the best woman in the game”.

Tony Sunshine: The requisite “singer” of the group. Who, like many hook masters, completed a solo album that was never released.

Prospect: A holdover from the original crew, he’s considered the second strongest lyricist in T.S., behind Joe.

Armageddon: Another founding member, he’s added the title of producer to his wordplay résumé.

The aforementioned first single, Lean Back is admittedly pretty damn nice. Scott Storch slings a start and stop beat that’s worthy of its “summer anthem” status. It’s just Joe and Remy on this one, though, which really isn’t surprising since this album plays mostly as an audition for the lady on the mic.

Sadly, for her, she’s not given a whole lot to work with here. The beat on Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, for example, is just brutal. It borrows from the Mike Curb Congregation and is reminiscent of a military reveille bugle. The production’s not much better on Hum Drum and Remy is lyrically outshined and outclassed by afterthoughts Prospect and Armageddon on this one.

And, as you can probably guess, when Miss Remy’s work is juxtaposed with Joe’s, her shortcomings are thrown out there for all to see. Terror Era builds off of two strong Joe verses and let’s her in for the big finish. Yet, the best she can muster are bean pie references and this gem:

Even if I stuttered, I would still sh-sh-sh-sh-shit on you.

But, there are other members of this group, aren’t there?

Tony Sunshine rides a Ruth Copeland(!) sample on Streets of NY and does a decent enough job. For some reason, he tries a little too hard to channel Ron Isley, though. Still, this one’s more listenable than Nothing’s Gonna Stop Me. Aside from yet another sample (this one from Marilyn McCoo”¦oy), Joe and Tony switch roles briefly. I guess Joe singing and Tony rapping was supposed to be bad, but whoever decided to make this one the opening track should’ve thought twice.

Believe it or not, there is some good on this album”¦and most of it can be found on Bring ‘Em Back. Fat Joe resurrects the late Big L and his boy, Big Pun on a bittersweet banger of what might have been. Joe gets one solo joint to himself on Yes Them to Def and holds it down despite a mid-song commercial for his next solo album and the whole played-out King of New York theme.

Prospect and Armageddon also get their own cut, as Geddy lays down a hot beat for Prospect’s Thunder in the Air. If it’s not too late to get his deposit back on Remy Ma, Joe might want to consider making Prospect the artist he hangs his fat hat on.