If hip-hop trends swing on a pendulum between the extremes of popularity and authenticity, perhaps Attention Deficit, Wale’s much anticipated solo album, represents a momentum shift towards what’s really real.
You won’t find any autotune or samples from ’80s pop hits on Attention Deficit, but instead it is a welcome throwback to the emcee mechanics of original beats and lyrics. Wale (pronounced WAH-lay, as he reminds you several times throughout the album) came to prominence for his mixtapes released online, and has been compared to the likes of DJ Kool. But don’t get too liberal with other comparisons to the D.C. native, as he uses much of the album to proclaim his originality. On “Mirrors,” his chorus implores, “Mirror mirror on the wall, who the realest of them all?”
That isn’t to say, however, that Attention Deficit isn’t without its freshman flaws. “Mirrors” also features a verse from seasoned veteran Bun B, which steals the track away from Wale. The beats don’t vary too much from track to track, which makes the fourteen tracks feel repetitive. Wale also seems to only be able to rap at one speed, as if he’s just jamming as many lines into each song as possible just to prove that he can.
More importantly, though, is the statement Attention Deficit seeks to make. Wale uses the album first and foremost to announce his jump off from online mixtapes into mainstream hip-hop recording. Despite the frequency of the typical lyrical chest-pounding, there are glimpses of maturity on the album. “90210” is a surprisingly confident take on fame and celebrity, and the very refined “Beautiful Bliss” craftily features Melanie Fiona and J. Cole.
Throughout Attention Deficit, Wale doesn’t pretend to be on top of the rap world, but he is confident and self-assured. He does not want to be seen as popular, but he does want to show that he’s the real deal. Even if Wale still a little rough around the edges, Attention Deficit is a noble start from D.C.’s newest contribution to the industry.