Jay-Z – Kingdom Come
Roc-A-Fella (release date: 11/21/2006)
Rap
Let’s see if I can finally get one of these right from the reader’s perspective.
Way back in my pre-Bootleg, early review days, I wrote up Jay-Z’s Blueprint album and scored it a 7.5 (out of 10). For months, my inbox informed me that I was “jealous” of Jigga, a “hater” and other hurtful urban words and phrases.
Then, in 2002, I reviewed his Blueprint 2.0 album. I gave it an 8.5 (out of 10), then was told by readers that I was on Jay-Z’s dick and disrespecting Nas. I assume they weren’t the same readers as referenced earlier.
Finally, in 2003, Jigga dropped The Black Album which I said then and maintain today, was one of the more overrated LPs in recent memory. It got a 6.5 (and liked it) while I got the wrath of readers who swore they’d never read me again. Unfortunately for them, I was the only writer on the site reviewing rap albums and/or writing the most entertaining weekly column around, so they all came crawling back.
Segue!
Now, it’s not like Shawn Carter has come back to the rap game with his tail between his legs, since he never really left. He spent his retirement as president and CEO of Def Jam, while only slightly dialing down his numerous album guest spots and vanity projects like the mash-up CD he did with Linkin Park. Still, in the short-term memory of rap fans, could Jay-Z take three years “off” and come back as relevant as ever?
Let’s go out on a limb and say, “Yes”.
We’re re-introduced to Jay-Z on “The Prelude”, which plays like the lyrical handshake of an old friend. It’s firm, but wonderfully familiar as Jigga gently chides the rap industry during his absence and doesn’t mince words in his attempt to reclaim the crown. The “Keep the Faith” sample is terrifically languid, to boot.
Just Blaze produces the more majestic “Oh My God”. It’s good enough for most rappers, but Jay-Z has done this “how tough it is to be me” theme to death. Still, the way he lyrically toys with those who’ve sought to start beef with him is akin to a cat playing with a mouse before he kills it. Jigga’s just that far ahead of everyone else.
“Lost One” is much more personal as Jay-Z puts the inner workings of the Roc-A-Fella behind-the-scenes boardroom drama with Damon Dash out on wax. Just Blaze brings out the piano on what Jigga assures us isn’t a “diss track”, but a “real track”. It’s more mid-tempo goodness with a mature tine. And, speaking of mature, one of the album’s highlights is the superb “30 Something”. It’s produced by Dr. Dre (who also mixes every song on the album) and serves like a stern, but respectful lecture on what’s really important like good credit and jeans that don’t sag past the ass.
(There’s also a throwaway line about Michael Jackson and his preference for young boys. I wonder if they’ll be as much of an outcry from the Black community, much like they grossly overreacted when Eminem made a similar dig on 2004’s “Just Lose It”.)
Ah, but then a funny thing happened on the way to “album of the year”.
The “Show Me What U Got” single is already on the short list of really bad songs by really good artists. Jay-Z is better than this example of empty calories for the ear. It doesn’t even dredge up enough oomph for the ubiquitous back-handed compliment of rap: “At least it’s a good dance song.” The video sucks worse than that, but I’m not allowed to consider the video in this review.
The second-half of the album seemingly falls off a cliff in quality, compared to the first half. “Hollywood” could’ve been something special, as Beyonce shows up to support her man, but the “fame is a gift/curse” concept sounds like an already traveled road here and, ultimately, average. “I Made It” is better than most of the “Dear Mama” copycats, but Jigga frames this tribute to his mother in terms of how great he is. We get it, Shawn.
The Neptunes-produced “Anything” features Pharrell and Usher, but all the star power can’t lift this to anything more than an overt reach for radio. Most disappointing is, however, is the dreadfully dated “Minority Report”.
Not to trivialize a tragedy or anything, but the hand-wringing over Hurricane Katrina meant a lot more before every African-American in the country had commented on it. Even the infamous Kanye West soundclip sampled at the end has become way cliché.
Ultimately, Kingdom Come is still better than most of the rap albums released in 2006, but it’s lessened by the weight of its own expectations. It doesn’t feel like the event album that it professes to be. While The Black Album varied wildly in quality, at least it felt like something special.
That might not be fair to Shawn Carter, but no one would argue that Jay-Z should be held to a higher standard than every other MCs out there. Not everyone can rightfully claim to be the king.
Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown.
Rating:
