I typically make as concerted an effort as possible to
remain blissfully ignorant of all economic matters . Young Jeezy, however,
forces us to at least consider the asthmatic economy with his latest album, The Recession, a title of particular
pertinence to a rapper so highly representative of the commodity-fetishism
coursing through the veins of contemporary hip-hop.
But what do we know about Young Jeezy? He belongs in the
handful of today’s unavoidably popular rappers. As a featured guest on other
albums, he’s nearly as prolific as his peers Lil Wayne and Jay-Z. His
distinctive timbre can be perceived as a unique element of his persona or as a
marketable sonic gimmick. On previous albums, his artistic aims have been
fairly explicit: to inspire his audience to pursue decadent levels of wealth
and to reflect upon his own by-any-means-necessary road to realizing that goal.
If the pseudo-motivational-speaker schtick seems corny, that’s because it often
was. Nonetheless, Jeezy was redeemed frequently by exceptional production and
occasionally by crafting genuinely interesting raps.
Jeezy has been amongst rap’s most heavily criticized
artists, though it’s been fairly accepted that he has an ear for beats whose
scale is hypnotically titanic. His two previous albums, Thug Motivation 101: Let’s Get It and The Inspiration, were maximalist skyscrapers of sound, busy yet
harmonious amalgamations of conventional and unconventional noises. The Recession continues this trend,
again achieving a certain orchestral grandiosity. Though the album’s style
remains somewhat static in this regard, a healthy variety is realized by songs
like the mock-go-go of “Circulate,” the paranoid 808s of “Don’t You Know” and
the anthemic “My President is Black.” Sci-fi synthesizers, on the other hand,
pierce a horror film melody on “Hustlaz Ambition.” The instrumentals are
consistently faithful to Jeezy’s lyrics and delivery, with nothing seeming
awkwardly mismatched, if one is concerned with that sort of thing.
For all the interesting elements going on in the various
backdrops of The Recession, Jeezy turns
in a decidedly uninspiring performance as poet. Anticipation for The Recession hinted at a political turn
for the Snowman, comparable with the heightened social awareness that’s marked
the recent work of Nas, who guests on “My President is Black.” Now, this is not
to say that I expected Jeezy to exhibit some ’88 Public Enemy-type bombastic
profundity, but too many songs on The
Recession linger on topics already exhausted in his past work. Jeezy never
commits to his supposed new direction for an entire song, nor does he have the
innate wit of Jay-Z to make it work like new.
All the same, Jeezy is a commanding performer. What he lacks
in lyrical complexity is compensated, some might say, by having a unique voice
and rhythm, one which seems to complement the instrumental rather than vice
versa. If we accept The Recession‘s
instrumentals as having a certain orchestral aura to them, then we would have
to concede that Jeezy is the ideal maestro.
What defines a good MC is not set in stone; those who agree
with this will find in The Recession
a poet who aimed perhaps a bit too high but whose efforts still are something
of an aesthetic accomplishment.
3 stars out of 5
