Grade: B
The so called “underground” hip-hop fan constantly walks a fine line. He is proud of his favorite groups/emcees/producers and feels that nobody else could possibly like Del the Funky Homosapien or Company Flow as much as he does. He boasts about the fact that 16-year old Britney TRL-watcher has no idea who, well, Eyedea is. He makes fun of all sucka emcees who make themselves regular fixtures on a certain television network that lists Carson Daly as an employee.
But at the same time, he understands that he must not step into the forbidden land of “commercialism.” He cannot be lured by the ice, the Jigga, the booty or the Diddy. If this true hip-hop head at times needs a guiding light to steer him away from the perils of mainstream rap, consider the Dilated Peoples the suppliers of the electricity.
Their 2000 debut, The Platform, was an archetypal, battle-rap-laden effort characteristic of the West Coast scene at the time. It brazenly displayed Evidence’s proclivity to rough bass hooks, DJ Babu’s gloriously dissonant scratching, and Iriscience’s trademark staccato rhyming. The album didn’t go any further than simply asserting Dilated’s lyrical and technical superiority over all sell-out emcees, but they threw themselves into the endeavor with such zeal that you couldn’t help but want to dispose of all your Will Smith CDs.
Their aptly titled sophomore effort, Expansion Team, stays true to the rugged spirit of its predecessor, but at times gets muddled by weak guest appearances and ham-fisted social commentary. “Live on Stage,” the opening track, is a sort of self-indulgent, musical adrenaline shot that sets an unrelenting tone for the rest of the album.
Other treats include the DJ Premier-produced “Clockwork” and the Joey Chavez-produced “Night Life,” but the undisputed highlight of the album is the work of DJ Babu.
Mostly relegated to scratching duties on previous Dilated efforts, Babu gets a chance to flex his producing muscles and doesn’t disappoint. He serves up tasty organ samples on “Dilated Junkies” and “Proper Propaganda,” then uses the one and two to slice and dice his way to sonic satiety. Evidence sums up his DJ’s mastery throughout several tracks, warning, “That’s a dangerous man/Who can speak with his hands.”
As expected, the album is technically tight throughout, but it loses a lot of steam when Dilated attempts to cover new subject matter. Perhaps taking a cue from socially charged albums like Mos Def’s Black on Both Sides and Blackalicious’ Nia, Expansion Team at times sets its sights too high. The well-intentioned “Trade Money” eventually trips over its own ambition, while the pretentious “War” mixes stoned ramblings with dorm-room-level philosophizing to ill effect.
Nonetheless, Expansion Team is a solid record that stays true to the glib, trash-talking tradition that gave it life. Dilated Peoples take their requisite shots at the sensationalist music media and fickle record buyers, so true heads won’t be disappointed. The album asserts that there is only one way to dodge the pitfalls of today’s hedonistic hip-hop, and that is through expansion.
