Review Summary: Featuring an evolved G-Funk sound and ridiculously over the top lyricism, Dr. Dre's semi-triumphant return to the proverbial rap game comes off on top.
Ever thought of an artist and realized that you could tell basically everything about them just by looking at their track record?
Dr. Dre, hip-hop producer of
NWA fame, is one of those cases. There's just something distinct about Dre, and I'm not talking in regards to his sound (though, it's a distinct sound he's got going). It's just that somehow, I think I can tell just how he'd would be in a relationship. It's really not all that complicated, just look at the facts; while a strong producer in his own right, Dre always seems to rely on others to push his music up to a certain level. With his debut solo album,
the Chronic,
MF Grimm's ghostwriting was an integral part in pushing the album to the top of the charts, making it the champion gangsta rap album of the 90s. Dr. Dre is a self-concious MC, one who despite his outstanding producing ability, seems uncertain of his rapping ability; and it's not to say he can't rap, it's just his writing and rhyming aren't in the same league as his work behind the scenes.
In attempt to once again solidify his place as the premier hip-hop producer, Dr Dre began working on his 1999 release, the oddly titled
2001, with the help of nearly 25 other artists. Thanks in part to his work on the
Slim Shady LP, people once again became curious about Dr. Dre, an issue addressed in the album's first two singles, but notably on it's second .
Forgot About Dre revisits the style he pioneered, something you get endless amounts of on the album. G-Funk is more or less exactly what it sounds like; gangstafied P-funk. Complete with distinctive synths (technically known as portamento leads), smooth bass and banging drum patterns, G-Funk is the perfect thing to groove to. Forgot About Dre was indicative of the fact that while Dre is back to his old tricks, they're as original as ever. Never willing to turn tired, Dre adds synthesized violins in this track, giving it a sinister sense, something that counter-acts Eminem's childish blabbering.
Forgot About Dre, though actually the 10th track on the album, basically sets the pace for the whole thing.
Eminem re-appears, along with
Xzibit, on the bombastic
What's the Difference. Tracks like
Fuck You and
Ackrite carry a smooth, old-school, smoke week every day sound, while the porno grooving
Xxplosive could easily pass for a post-transaction hoe-anthem (see: sex).
Still D.R.E, the lead single, adds a far-east (see: Asian) vibe to the age old G-Funk sound, an idea also applied to The Message, and basically lets us know Dre's back with some of that, as Snoop so eloquently puts it, sticky-icky-icky (ooh wee). It also proves that while Dre's "creation" of the G-Funk sound is debatable, he's definitely made it his own.
2001 is Dre's re-invention, his return to the wonderful world of gangsta rap. Was it a success? Musically, I'd say yes. Lyrically, however, well… As I sit here writing this, one hand on the keyboard, the other sitting near a plate of cookies (which sits next to a cup of warm milk), I say the answer to that is obvious. Here's a personal favourite
Yeah -- I just took some Ecstasy
Ain't no tellin what the side effects could be
All these fine bitches equal sex to me
Plus I got this bad bitch layin next to me
No doubt, sit back on the couch
Pants down, rubber on, set to turn that ass out
Laid the bitch out, then I put it in her mouth
Pulled out, nutted on a towel and passed out
And then there's this
BANG
BANG!! BANG BANG!!
Everywhere I go, all I ever seem to hear is
BANG BANG!! BANG BANG!!
No matter where I go, all I ever seem to see is
BANG BANG!! BANG BANG!!
Everywhere I go, all I ever seem to hear is
BANG BANG!! BANG BANG!!
No matter where I go, all I ever seem to see is
BANG
BANG!!
The lyrics on the album are exactly what you'd expect; overblown depictions of gangsta life, complete with excessive swearing, violent descriptions, bitches, hoes and, in the hilarious skit
Pause 4 Porno, a massive orgy ending in a tragic ejaculatory injury. If you hadn't guessed, the lyrics are more or less ridiculous. After so many expletives, it sort of becomes second nature to just ignore the ludicrously over-the-top lyricism; I guess maybe this was why Grimm ghostwrote on the Chronic. Dre likes to tell you he's in fact still ghetto, still gangsta. Not only is he still gangsta, he's also still a strong pot user. Here's the thing; we all know he's a pot smoker. His need to remind us nearly every two minutes is only overshadowed by the ambiguous murder references. We get it, seriously. The lyrics on 2001 just seem campy and unnecessary, driving a point nobody really cares about home to the point of smashing through the living room window. He's also still from Compton, just in case you were wondering.
Basically, this album is something you'll want to put on, play loud, enjoy the
shit out of it and then put away for a couple days. It's overwhelmingly cliché, at least lyrically, so you might not listen to as much as his "classic" Chronic. Nonetheless, I actually prefer this album musically. The skits are surprisingly painless to listen to, in fact they're mostly entertaining, and unlike say, a
Kanye West album, they're mostly limited. The album is flawless production wise, and Dre's inclination to add more samples to a typically sample-limited style of hip-hop is ever-effective, though it did result in a lawsuit (see: THX). The album is musically solid, lyrically entertaining (albeit campy) and criminally underrated, pun intended. Also known as
the Chronic: 2001, this album is a sequel in spirit, showing that while he's got a style of his own, Dre's no one trick pony.