REVIEW: Ludaversal x Ludacris

There was a time when Ludacris was one of my favorite rappers. His brash and cocky attitude, boisterous beats and unapologetically Southern demeanor, coupled with his undeniable skill, made listening to a Ludacris album a reliably enjoyable endeavor. Plus, anybody that knows me knows flow goes a long way with me, and not many rappers have a more consistently effortless flow than Luda. This winning combination kept him in pretty constant rotation for me for the better part of 8 years. Even when it started to become pretty obvious, around the time of Release Therapy, that he was trying a bit too hard for "serious" respect, his natural talent helped to overshadow the blatant pandering to audiences that had complained about his lack of depth on previous releases.

So I'm not exactly sure at what point it all went off the rails. With Theater of the Mind, he seemed to hit that balance of seriousness and fun that he missed on Release Therapy. But then came Battle of the Sexes, a shallow and rather annoying album that seemed designed only for club play and really had little to offer to fans of good hip hop, and lazy guest verses for the likes of Justin Bieber, R. Kelly, Chris Brown, My Darkest Days, and even Jason Aldean--the songs all being as terrible as the hosting artists' reputations would betray. Luda began prepping Ludaversal, his next studio album, as early as 2011, but it was delayed repeatedly and with the subpar material Luda had been a part of, a lot of people just stopped caring. There was a mixtape here and there over the last few years, but overall it seemed that Ludacris had faded away.

Then, what seemed like suddenly to me, since I had all but forgotten about it, Ludaversal had a release date, album artwork, a few very high quality singles, and a leak, each hitting the scene faster than I could catch up with the one before it. Suddenly, here I was, anticipating this album I thought would never see the light of day; his last good album was 8 (!) years ago and yet he seemed poised for a comeback.

And let me tell you, it was worth the wait. The album starts off with a bang on the David Banner-produced "Ludaversal (Intro)" which features Ludacris revisiting the double- and triple-time flow he injected into the raucous "Southern Fried Intro" from Chicken n Beer, and I can't remember a time his delivery has sounded crisper and more focused. The first half of the album is Ludacris flexing his mic skills solo, with no guest appearances on the first 8 tracks. He talks a bit about where he's been the last few years on "Grass Is Always Greener," calls out wack MCs on "Call Ya Bluff" through "Beast Mode" and gets drunk and high on "Get Lit." The album takes an introspective turn here, and instead of the light-and-fluffy social consciousness he had attempted on the likes of "Runaway Love" in the past, we get Ludacris opening up about his own life, something he had shied away from in the past. He laments a strained romance on "Good Lovin'," an interesting topic since we mostly know Ludacris for "Pimpin' All Over the World," and it's surprising to hear him speak so frankly about heartbreak, longing, and love for his children. He discusses how he lost his way in music and also in life, for so many years, in "Not Long," which is also notable for being a truly soulful beat from David Guetta, a producer I've only ever known for microwaved dance-pop; and covers shady label execs in "Charge It To The Rap Game." But the most poignant moment is the touching tribute to his late father in "Ocean Skies," where he mourns the loss of his father and admits to inheriting Dad's issues with alcohol and letting himself get carried away with it after his death.

The album closes with a victory lap in the Just Blaze-produced "This Has Been My World," which also features a poem from the illustrious Big Rube. The album also features several excellent mid-tempo bonus tracks with guest appearances from Rick Ross, Cee-Lo Green, John Legend, and even Aldean.

With Ludaversal, Ludacris has really hit his creative stride, for arguably the first time in his career sounding just as comfortable pouring his heart out on wax as he does calling out wack rappers. This is possibly his most balanced album and without a doubt his most mature, and a serious contender for best album of this year so far. If you were like me and believed Luda was done for, I can't recommend checking this out enough. Don't call it a comeback!

FINAL SCORE: 4.5/5.0
Highlights: Grass Is Always Greener, Ocean Skies (feat. Monica), Not Long (feat. Usher)




Oh hey, bonus content.

Two other anticipated albums came out this week, and I couldn't miss a chance to drop some feedback on those too.

MR. WONDERFUL x ACTION BRONSON
Action Bronson is back with his major-label debut, bringing more of his quirky personality, hilarious braggadocio, and excellent ear for beats to Mr. Wonderful, which features production from long-time Bronson cohorts like Statik Selektah, Alchemist, and Party Supplies, among others. Bronson experiments a bit on this album, even singing on occasion, and the results hit more than they miss.
FINAL SCORE: 4.0/5.0
Highlights: Terry, Falconry (feat. Meyhem Lauren), C. Baby Blue (feat. Chance the Rapper)

I DON'T LIKE SHIT, I DON'T GO OUTSIDE x EARL SWEATSHIRT
The Odd Future rapper drops his sophomore album, although notably without his OFWGKTA brethren backing him up (the Left Brain-produced "Off Top" being the only contribution from anyone else in the crew). Earl's rhymes are every bit as dense and dexterous as ever on this outing, but he's also maintained his tendency towards a sleepy delivery, and with it now being almost totally self-produced, the beats match the rapping. Don't come here looking for energy, but if you're a fan of what Earl does, you won't be disappointed.
FINAL SCORE: 3.0/5.0
Highlights: Wool (feat. Vince Staples)

To Pimp A Butterfly x Kendrick Lamar: REVIEW

It doesn't seem like this is only (sort of) Kendrick Lamar's sophomore album. He's been a ubiquitous presence in hip hop for the last few years, despite having released no new material since 2012 and only a handful of guest verses, albeit high profile ones. Even as far back as 2010, he actually had a critically acclaimed independent album, Section 80, which for some reason most don't count as his debut. Kendrick's presence in the rap game feels well-worn at this stage, due in no small part to the monumental nature of his major-label debut, Good Kid, Maad City. I'm not going to dwell at length on my thoughts on that album; I pronounced it the album of the year at that time, because it would have been intellectually dishonest not to, being the year's most critically acclaimed hip hop album and its second biggest-selling, but it never made it to constant replay for me. With that being said, its impact was undeniable and made Kendrick one of hip hop's biggest names, and earned him comparisons to the likes of rap-Rushmore candidates 2Pac and Nas.

The big question would now be how Kendrick followed it up. The pressure on Kendrick Lamar was enormous at this point, as he would not only have to follow up a debut that has been pronounced a classic by most critics, but would have to deal with the added scrutiny of being crowned the savior of West Coast hip hop and hip hop on the whole. Add to that the pressure of the dreaded "sophomore slump" and you have nearly insurmountable expectations for the Compton native to meet.

"I remember you was conflicted..."

For what it's worth, I never found the 2Pac or Nas comparisons accurate at all, at least from a musical standpoint. Both played the role of griots, especially in the early stages of their careers, streetwise poets who were equally at home wearing the khufi or slapping it off you. Their music was known, criticized and beloved alike, for representing human duality: they were capable of provoking deep thought, but the same thought they inspired could reveal the hypocrisy they sometimes demonstrated. Nas was famously called out by Jay-Z for making songs like "Black Girl Lost" while putting out singles like "You Owe Me", but it was this capacity for contradiction that made him relatable to many.

"I remember you was conflicted..."

I said when Good Kid, Maad City came out that Kendrick's true kindred spirit was the more eccentric Andre 3000. Despite the fact that he was marketed as a young Nas, a young 2Pac, I just never saw it. It wasn't so much that Kendrick lacked that griot-with-a-touch-of-thug persona that Nas displayed, or that he lacked 2Pac's charisma and fiery temper, although both of these statements were true. It was more that, sonically, he clearly borrowed liberally from Three Stacks, right down to the space alien voices and esoteric flows, and this is even more true on To Pimp a Butterfly. The funk flows throughout this album, starting with "Wesley's Theory" which features the prime minister of funk himself, George Clinton. The song could have fit neatly into the tracklist of Aquemini, before abruptly shifting gears into a rapid-fire onslaught of slam poetry-style rhyming on the humorous "For Free? (Interlude)." From here, the album sounds remarkably like Andre 3000's flamboyant The Love Below from a sonic standpoint. Erratic flows, rhyming that feels free-association at times, and jazzy horns and keys give the songs that follow a very laid-back, smooth sound that would be perfectly at home in a jazz joint. But there is an underlying theme tying it all together that stands in marked contrast to the free-love vibe of The Love Below.

"I remember you was conflicted..."

"King Kunta." "Institutionalized." "These Walls." The album is already being described as Afrocentric, but there's a subtle militancy behind the hippie vibe that goes beyond mere Afrocentrism. The topic of racial and social injustice is a cauldron boiling just below the surface, and you can hear it in Kendrick's rhymes. He's not concerned with calling rappers' names or being the self-proclaimed "King of New York" here, as on his celebrated "Control" verse. This is a protest album.

"I remember you was conflicted..."

These words are repeated between songs, the refrain of a poem that links the songs on the album in theme. The angst grows with this repeated stanza, as the songs' lyrics become more pointed. "From Compton to Congress, set tripping all around/ain't nothing but a new flow of DemoCrips and ReBloodicans," he spits on "Hood Politics." "How Much a Dollar Cost" is one of the album's standout tracks, and the human hypocrisy is on full display:

"He begged and pleaded,
Asked me to feed him twice, I didn't believe it
Told him, 'Beat it'
Contributing money just for his pipe, I couldn't see it
He said, 'My son, temptation is one thing that I've defeated
Listen to me, I want a single bill from you
Nothing less, nothing more,'
I told him I ain't have it and closed my door
Tell me how much a dollar cost..."

I won't reveal the song's ending, but the messages of social injustice and the price of selfishness are poignant and powerful. "Complexion (A Zulu Love)" continues with the pro-black themes and features the lone guest rap on the album, from the slept-on Rapsody, sending a message against the skin-tone prejudices still present in the black community.

The cauldron suddenly and abruptly boils over on the ferocious "The Blacker the Berry," the album's most powerful track. "So why did I weep when Trayvon Martin was in the street/when gangbanging make me kill a n---- blacker than me? Hypocrite!" Kendrick snarls, and the idea of contradiction and human duality comes full circle. From here, "I" and "Mortal Man" embrace the ideas of loving oneself as the album comes to a close on a more serene note, with Kendrick finishing his poem in an "interview" with 2Pac and explaining the metaphor in the album's title.

While not without a few minor blemishes (the vocally awful "U" in particular), this album stands as proof that Kendrick could do the things I hadn't been totally convinced he could. He's a griot, a thinker, a sinner, a commentator, and while the album's overall soundscape is reminiscent of The Love Below, the message runs much deeper, and suddenly those Nas and 2Pac comparisons don't seem so farfetched. It might sound a bit too laid-back at times, especially on first listen, but the juxtaposition of its smooth demeanor against its potent message, along with its gradual build into the explosive "The Blacker the Berry," is a big part of why it works.

I remember you was conflicted...and it made for an excellent album.

FINAL SCORE: 4.5/5.0
Highlights: How Much a Dollar Cost, The Blacker the Berry, Mortal Man