Review Summary: Album Of The Year is an exhibit of artistic veracity and self-truth, as well as a cognizant effort to develop a unique style and an entirely successful attempt to improve on the mic and on the pad, but it only goes so far.
Although
Tronic was an acclaimed album that received its fair amount of due praise, it (and the artist responsible for it) received its share of criticism. On top of complaints about questionable emceeing and egotistical, acquisitive subject matter, Black Milk was condemned as being ‘just J Dilla with heavier drums’. It's been nearly two years and quite a few things have changed, and Black Milk’s released an album to put to rest the claims of the detractors who weren’t crowning his 2008 album
Tronic as an elite release.
Album Of The Year is quite the impeccable effort from a man who some labeled a copycat, a one-dimensional slouch, and/or a one trick pony.
When people caught wind that Black Milk was titling his new release “Album Of The Year”, they obviously were quick to come to the conclusion that he was making an arrogant ‘prediction’ for how awesome his album would be. Well, they – and, to be honest, I am included in ‘they’ – were dead wrong. As a cursory listen to the overarching lyrical theme will tell you, or the quote from “Distortion”, where Black Milk irately raps seemingly through clenched teeth, “F*ck this year – I’m done with oh-nine,” the title is reference to his trials and tribulations almost immediately following the release of
Tronic. Here, he addresses his critics as well as his almost overnight popularity after the release of
Tronic, and he documents the struggles he went through since the fall of ‘09 (see, death of close friend and Slum Village rapper Baatin, the near-death of his manager Hex Murda, and the death of his aunt.) Black Milk pushed through a tough time, and rather than being a rant-y, b*tch-fest,
Album Of The Year is a reasonably positive narrative of his struggles that [largely] occurred in 2009.
Of course, Black Milk hasn’t entirely abandoned the fast and furious O.G. lifestyle, and even when he’s not chronicling his past hardships, it’s still evident how much he’s improved not just lyrically, but vocally. Take “Deadly Medley” featuring ElZhi and Royce da 5”9, for example. ElZhi is an upcoming verse-smith, and Royce da 5”9 is a Motown rapping vet, but Black Milk keeps up with them, and as a result, the song is a lyrical fireworks show. With a pop star diss (“
yea, sh*t is as ugly as Lady Gaga’s wardrobe,” an Afro-centric, burlesque one liner (“
My *** is Martin Luther, your *** is Martin Lawrence”) a nod to a musical classic (Michael Jackson’s
Thriller, a fair amount of other poetic devices, and plenty of gangsta braggadocio, Black Milk’s verse is a thoroughly delightful affair that combines technical efficiency and aesthetic appeal.
Now, although the style evident on
Tronic garnered Black Milk criticism for being a J Dilla cut-out, it also solidified him as a monstrous production force not to be reckoned with, and, for the most part, that continues here. Black Milk hasn’t just minorly expounded on the style Jay Dee popularized, no, it’s noticeably starting to move out of the range of the influence, at least enough to the point where nobody can label him a Jay Dee-wannabe any longer. But that’s not to say he’s made a 180-degree abandonment of his mentor’s sound. In addition to the production Dilla pioneered – a synth-heavy mix of neo-soul, techno, and electrofunk with stamping drums – he incorporates gospel, funk-rock, and psychedelic-rock influences to form a style that is noticeably his own, and it sounds more like something Madlib would produce for
Madvillainy 2 than something that would be released on a post-humous Dilla compilation. Moreover, rather than serving as compensation for Black Milk’s emceeing deficiencies; guest spots are filled with soul and R&B vocalists (save three appearances filled by rappers) to assist in cultivating a more heartfelt sound and energy.
The problem with this album is filler, weaker [in contrast to
Tronic] production, and (the thing that has plagued producer-rappers for decades) relatively unsatisfactory rapping. As refreshing it is to see musical individuality from Black Milk, the beastly instrumentals we’ve seen him produce are still better regardless. And as great as it is to see how much he’s improved as an MC, he just isn’t ‘there’ yet. Furthermore, even though each song is more or less just as equally important as the next, some songs suffer not from lack of ‘integrity per se – as a lot of ‘rap filler’ does –they simply aren’t as musically appealing, and it doesn’t help that the first one-fourth of the album is a rather difficult entry point.
Album Of The Year is by no means album of the year, but it’s a great listen from start to finish, even though its replay value is diminished due to the slight lack of heart-wrenching emotionality (considering the amount of personal touch put on it.) It’s an exhibit of artistic veracity and self-truth, as well as a cognizant effort to develop a unique style and an entirely successful attempt to improve on the mic and on the pad. HOWEVER. Those things only go so far.
Tronic ekes this out by a fair amount, but kudos to Black Milk not only for what he did here, but how well it turned out.
