If he’s serious about atoning for the last decade, he’s got his work cut out for him, but The Ecstatic is a start.I wanna fly fast I move my ass off the ground Totally unbound let the mind be free, check the mighty sound Take it ease, slide to the right side, right now Write down the silouette of your life in peace Round up the edges if you must, than stretch it and strive Restless, to the spot, where stressed mess Is dropped, minus missing spots, or leaving shit forgot I make it hot, let the pressure rise to the top On the real, I don't think our lifes have a meaning Who needs something like that, may to get a good feeling Or a stimulation from believes that aren't founded The situation doesn't provides any proof that's grounded Matter of fact the faith can relax, makes the fear quit The problem with believe is that you never know shit The smart may be certain, they say wisdom is the cure But the wise know that only dumb know shit for sure My status an accretion I’m brighter than a blazar Schwarzchild radius tighter than my days are Completion of my mission show to turn on and go off My spittin puts you down clown and now your cro’s lost A modern day mugging, solemn prey thuggin' ‘for they get caught cause the bottom slay nothin’ I stay trustin my closest dawgs lustin these riches So I guess we’re similar because you stay trustin bitches The beat switches and I’m greener than a pitch is In this modern day eco friendly business game I turn up the bass and ball out on beats You chase the case and fall out with heat Keep in your own lane you love your cousin Jane Cause you’re heading south and you’re letting out shame Name one who does it better, manipulating letters Articulating greatness they hate this Vendetta That I’m holding against MCs on their knees shit please bitch My deed to the streets that I’m scolding all these tics I’m limestone growing from the foam The aragonite unite once grown for they own Purpose, that of which to hurt us A clerk is my work bitch they line up to murk us Semantic fields more natural than the crops Getting bread and feed the cheese to the cops No one rats out on the big time boss man The race is really finished when that thin line’s crossed damn
He passed on his chance to be rap’s great white hope, and he may not get another, but at least he’s beginning to fight his reputation as a career-squandering, fan-backstabbing slacker. He’s rusty, though, and his rhymes lack clarity and the forceful, charismatic delivery of his stunning late-’90s work. And for the first time in nearly a decade, Mos appears genuinely eager to please, singing and rapping like he didn’t just roll out of bed. The songs are brief and direct, the best of them hit hard and make a real impression, and the worst breeze by innocuously, instead of lingering like Mos’ painful past failures.
It’s a real collection of real songs, real raps and-crucially-real beats, courtesy of producers like Madlib and Madlib’s likeminded little brother, Oh No, who lend the album the same blunted, jazzy oddness of so many Stones Throw Records releases. Surprisingly, it isn’t just Mos Def sitting in his bathrobe, mumbling half-finished poetry into a tape recorder. Fans learned to treat future Mos Def releases like videotaped messages from Osama Bin Laden, unwelcome recordings that arrive sporadically but are best ignored.īut by the shameful standards Mos Def set for himself, any album with some semblance of effort was bound to be heralded as a return to form, and The Ecstatic puts forth that modicum of effort. After the vile one-two punch of 2004’s messy, misguided New Danger and 2006’s inexcusable True Magic -a formless, contract-completing fuck you to Mos Def’s label and, by extension, to the fans who were loyal enough to buy a demo-like record that was ominously released with no publicity or even any cover art or inserts-there simply were no expectations for a new Mos Def album. To say expectations were low for Mos Def’s fourth album is being far too generous.
0 kommentar(er)
