Tracks
Mobb Deep f/ 50 Cent: "The Infamous"
(2005)
By Connor Morris | 10 January 2008
This could get sticky. Mobb Deep's reemergence into the "game" has been
nothing if not a little weird. Not to say that they had been gone very long, but
was anyone even paying attention? Funny what rappers will do when no
one's watching. Here, Havoc and Prodigy approve of Alchemist's
harnessing of the same bass line as AZ's Primo-produced "New York."
Al's bubbling beat serves as a good reference point for the east-coast
duo, who kick things off with an ode to the cesarean section. Check
the spookiness: "Just like to thank you / my mama / thank you baby for
cutting me out." Not ones to get emotional and shit, they
swiftly flip back to a more time tested rhyme scheme, though when you title
a song after your most lauded album -- a QB drug mafioso album that
came out over ten years
ago -- I guess forward progression isn't exactly the mark. But rap
conservatism is hardly something to detract from; the listener will
get through at
least one verse before things deteriorate.
On to the de facto headliner: 50 doesn't have enough dexterity in his jaw to get through a stick of Hubba Bubba, so his role as chorus hype-man is about as buyable as his last record. Okay, so the man has dropped a few great lines here and there over the past few months, furthering the blogger-created buzz about the charisma he'll put on display once outside the context of an album. But here he flounders; "Everybody can't afford to live the lifestyle of the young black and rich" stings of apathy. Not to subject the man to a philosophical conundrum, but how does one "afford" being rich? While this is likely some type of sly, covert neo-Marxist political commentary on the part of the always-socially-minded Jackson, he's once again gone over my head. And then: "We own these streets / who basically control this rap." OK, "Basically"? How about trading up some of that pussy-footing for a little bravado. Unfortunately, it's 50's lack of presence as a Mobb Deep Credibility Salesman (and he's got no excuses, shares are cheap) that hurts an otherwise interesting venture.
On to the de facto headliner: 50 doesn't have enough dexterity in his jaw to get through a stick of Hubba Bubba, so his role as chorus hype-man is about as buyable as his last record. Okay, so the man has dropped a few great lines here and there over the past few months, furthering the blogger-created buzz about the charisma he'll put on display once outside the context of an album. But here he flounders; "Everybody can't afford to live the lifestyle of the young black and rich" stings of apathy. Not to subject the man to a philosophical conundrum, but how does one "afford" being rich? While this is likely some type of sly, covert neo-Marxist political commentary on the part of the always-socially-minded Jackson, he's once again gone over my head. And then: "We own these streets / who basically control this rap." OK, "Basically"? How about trading up some of that pussy-footing for a little bravado. Unfortunately, it's 50's lack of presence as a Mobb Deep Credibility Salesman (and he's got no excuses, shares are cheap) that hurts an otherwise interesting venture.





