The University News

Issue date: 1/21/08 Section: Culture

"Ghostface Killah" knows how to write a good lyric.

In its infancy, rap was to music what documentary filmmaking was to movies.

Mostly released by African-Americans, rap music was the lifeline and source of information for suburban white kids and fodder for yuppie music critics to unconditionally grovel over as avant-garde.

Being a white kid myself, I admit there are things I do not know about the black experience as reflected in rap.

For instance, when I first listened to Ghostface Killah's "The Big Doe Rehab," I sat perplexed for hours trying to understand what exactly that title means (I still don't know; e-mail me if you can explain).

While there is a lot I don't know about the experiences within, I've listened to enough music to recognize the incredible talent it reveals.

Ghostface Killah's "The Big Doe Rehab" exemplifies the massive evolution of rap music. The genre began with strong narratives, transformed into party/dance jams with high production value and little meat, into a happy combination of the two.

Killah is credited with writing some of the better rap lyrics being recorded today, but he also has his ears perked to the musical possibilities of the rap idiom.

Producers such as Kanye West, Pharell Williams and Timbaland have forged incredible success because they have looked beyond percussion as vocal accompaniment.

One need look no further than Kanye West's epic "Graduation." If no vocals were recorded, you could easily mistake it for something released by the Pet Shop Boys or Soft Cell in the '80s.

"The Big Doe Rehab" is big and bold. Killah incorporates everything from Latin rhythms to '70s funk and '60s Top 40 Motown-esque sounds that contribute to a hip-hop collage that never quits.

Ghostface Killah employs a fast, loquacious oratory style that I usually shy away from, but his tales of street life are too rich and fully-realized that speedy delivery is an absolute necessity.

"White Linen Affair" is one of the weaker tracks, and its shelf-life is jeopardized by endless name-dropping, but all is nearly forgiven because of the infectious, throttling back beat.

The other tracks are very good, with very few weak moments. Guest appearances by Raekwon, Method Man and Rhythm Roots All Stars complement and compete with Killah's no-holds-barred approach to his material.

From the bombastic "We Celebrate" to the laid-back "Supa GFK," there is never a dull moment. One minute features a Bill Withers sample, the next a classical orchestra riff. All exist behind unapologetically explicit tales of sex, drugs and violence. My personal favorite is the second bonus track, a whimsical number that features the haunting backup vocals of Chrisette Michele.

Look for a "Best Rap Album" Grammy nod for this album. Rap music has come a long way; Ghostface Killah's latest will turn skeptics into believers.

jkerfeld@unews.com

Page 1 of 1

Article Tools