Wyclef Jean seems to rewrite his own history during the
opening to Carnival Vol. II: Memoirs of an Immigrant: "Ever since my last album, Carnival, a lot of things have changed."
While his album cites the Sept. 11 attacks and "panic" in the world, his own
career is missing from the equation. It's understandable; when you have an
album as well-crafted as Carnival Vol. II,
you tend to forget the failures on the way there.

Wyclef Jean's solo debut The
Carnival was an ambitious, albeit unorthodox approach to hip-hop that
recast him as the true visionary of The Fugees. His genre-bending approach was
an artistic triumph amid the usual hip-hop offerings of the late '90s. However,
his wide scope seems to have gotten the better of him. 2000's The Ecleftic was too ambitious for its
own good, while 2003's Masquerade reflects
the lowest point of Jean's artistic travails by occasionally hiding behind pop
standards. His biggest success in the last 10 years may actually be his
production credits, most notably on Shakira's hit single "Hips Don't Lie."

However, Jean would have you believe all the musical
meandering was simply building up to this magnum opus. Certainly, this is the
most cohesive work of his career since The Fugees' The Score, but it still falls well short of masterpiece status.

If the original Carnival
was the sound of hip-hop royalty taking his place on the throne, Carnival Vol. II represents his time in
exile: world-weary, but enlightened. Despite the infusion of Jean's Haitian
roots and reggae influence, Carnival Vol.
II has no geographical or artistic center, drawing on a cast of about 20
collaborators — from folk luminary Paul Simon contributing vocals to Nation of
Islam leader Louis Farrakahn playing violin. The musical styles are as varied
as the multicultural roots of America; Jean's immigrant theme depicts the U.S.
as a cultural crossroads through a series of narratives. Middle Eastern drum
beats and exotic string arrangements drench tracks such as "Welcome to the
East" and "Hollywood Meets Bollywood (Immigration)," while Latin influence
spices up "Selena," Jean's tribute to the fallen Tejano star.

Carnival Vol. II
eventually bursts into a worldwide party, but Jean begins with an urgent social
warning, something rarely seen in mainstream pop music. The cautious paranoia
of "Riot" hears Jean rumbling of cultural tensions, while System of a Down
frontman Serj Tankian provides a spoken-word interlude full of battlefield
imagery and incoherent conspiracy. Even Jean's most pop-worthy single on the
album, "Sweetest Girl (Dollar Bill)" turns a rolling rap beat into lamentation
over a childhood girlfriend's turn toward prostitution: "She used to run track
back in high school/ Now she tricks on the track right by school/ She takes the
loss 'cause she don't wanna see her child lose/ So respect her, or pay for the
time used." The dark approach doesn't beat the listener over the head with
politics, but provides a nuanced and real immigrant perspective that gives this
album most of its emotional punch.

Despite the near-flawless production throughout, the global
scope and frontline perspectives Jean has constructed fall apart on the last
track "Touch Your Button Carnival Jam," where his message and thematic cohesion
give way to a hedonistic Brazilian dance floor medley that nearly tips the
scale into "My Humps" territory. While Jean's French-language second half
nearly excuses the pathetic first half, the track's bloated 13:30 runtime means
few will reach the end of Carnival Vol.
II with complete satisfaction.

However, the lyrical depth and seamless genre-bending
production make up for this one mistake. What Jean has created with Carnival Vol. II is a reminder of his
ultimate potential when he is able to control his ambition: a near-perfect pop
record and hope for the future of hip-hop.

3 1/2 stars out of 5