But like it or not, “buzz” exists to do one thing. Sell music. You’re nothing unless your music is bought by the adoring masses, and sometimes digital ink dosen’t transfer to physical acceptance.

So again I ask, forget the distractions, how is the MUSIC?

Honestly, if you liked Del Rey before then you ‘re in luck, as the entire album follws the same neo-vintage structure as her blog classics “Video Games” and “Blue Jeans”. If you don’t like Del Rey, however, then you will find more to gripe about. I stand somewhere in the middle.

First off, the concept and production are what make this album. The selection of Emilie, the mastermind producer behind Kid Cudi’s sound provides this album with a decent combination of vintage vibes set to a hip-hop template. Emilie creates lush backgrounds–vintage twangs here, some downtempo strings there–to set the scene of what I would figure to be a sad Midwestern transplant living the life in the big city. It’s emoness is almost the female antithesis to what a Cudi or Drake album would be like, and Del Rey delivers some songs with such swagger (check “National Anthem) that it could almost pass for a hip-hop album.

But unfortunately this album falls short. The production which was so great by track 5, gets week and repetitive towards the end of the album. In fact, I almost felt like the same strings and twangs were being reused over and over again at the same measures. Every song has the same tempo with no variation. The album only has 12 songs but it feels like 20, and there is only so much “Hollywood sadcore” (her words, not mine) a dude can take.

But the real problem with this album lies with Del Rey herself. Even though the character has developed as an alter ego, Del Rey has no defined persona. The lyricism comes off as contrived, and the project lackes depth beyond the first few songs. The lyrics are engineered to push buttons and create emotions more than anything, but these emotions that are simply not there. Tracks like “This Is What Makes Us Girls,” with it’s references to drinking PBR and running from the cops while dressed in bikini tops come off like a bad mashup of John Mellencamp and Ke$ha.

I get it. The fact that Lana Del Rey is disconnected is the reason we are supposed to connect with her. But that ascetic isn’t reached here.

Having that said, there is a lot to build on in the album. The LDR concept is a good one, and do think she can be a breath of fresh air in the pop music scene. But unfortunately, she’s not ready yet. Both her album and stage performance is lacking. It’s nothing a few months of retooling won’t fix, but in this fast-paced world will we give her that time and allow her to grow?

For starters, I was utterly impressed by and appreciative of the fact that each and every song’s production was composed entirely of live instrumentation. As every music afficcionado knows, live instrumentation ALWAYS makes for a better sound. But on the flip side of that coin, live instrumentation is best when heard as accompaniment for a great vocalist with thought provoking lyrics. Ayo, takes her time with each track, always perfectly phrasing her carefully crafted words. Her soprano is light, airy and honest.

She’s even got a couple of songs on ‘Billie-Eve’ that show a heavy reggae influence, like the thouht provoking album opener ‘How many people’, ‘It’s too late’ (my favorite), or the feel good ode to all the good that is love with ‘Real Love’. What impressed me most about her brand of reggae infusion is that it is exactly that; just an infusion. The musical arrangement has an old school purity to it, not a bunch of studio tricks, just good musicians. Seldom is anything other than piano, bass, and drums heard. A guitar and a cello show up a couple of times on various songs. The album has a real acoustic feel to it. Other really great songs on this project are ‘Who are they’, a song about judgement and acceptance and ‘I Can’t’ a song about being in a love that feels so good (and bad sometimes) that you are just stuck. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you? Another one of my favorites on this project is a proclamation about self-acceptance entitled ‘I’m gonna dance’. Her vocal inflection in that song is serious!

Overall, this project is outstanding in my opinion. The only negative criticism that I have to give actually has nothing to do with the music at all, but is in the engineering. For me, it is a little top heavy. There isn’t really enough bottom, for my taste that is. Granted, some of the tracks were recorded in an analog format, and they clearly were shooting for an acoustic feel but I still think it would’ve served the overall listening experience to add just a little more bass. If you’ve got a stereo with a decent equalizer though, that problem quickly becomes not such a problem at all.

Bottom line is that Ayo is an extremely talented writer, singer and producer. Her digital album is a solid testament to her artistry. I am excited to see what we will get from this young lady in the future.

It’s something about Harlem. I can’t put my finger on it but everything from the Harlem Renaissance and the famed Apollo Theater to the revitalization of the neighborhood that seemed to pop off when Bill Clinton moved his offices there in 2001 proves there’s just something special about that place. And Harlem’s favorite new son, Donnie Goines just adds to what Harlem already has to offer. Not too many unsigned artist can say they’ve accomplish what Donnie Goines already has and his new album “Success Served Cold” takes what we’ve already heard to the next level.

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The thing I love about “Success Served Cold” is there’s something for everyone. You want some braggadocios type rhymes, then “Thought You Should Know” featuring Mike Milan is what you’ll get. You want some dope concepts? Check out “Liar” featuring Lenny Harold. And If you’re looking for some lyrical exercise then “Barbarians” featuring Jon Conors, Just Blaze and Law, “Mountain of Memories” featuring Brother Ali and “Champion’s Anthem“ featuring Bun B. Killer Mike, XV and Pills are all right up your alley. And all of that to say that if you’re looking for some good ole hip hop, you can’t go wrong with “Success Served Cold.” So at the end of the day, rocking with Donnie Goines is as easy a decision as copping a cheeseburger deluxe with onion rings and a chocolate shake from Jimbo’s on 125th and Amsterdam.

I wonder if J*DaVeY reminded Warner Bros. of Prince…too much non-conformity, self-pleasure, different-as-the-norm mentality, and independent to the core.  I can’t put my finger on it exactly.  Whatever the case may be, their highly anticipated new album, New Designer Drug, will NOT, I repeat, NOT be released on the Warner Bros. label.

If you’re curious as to why, it’ll cost ya.  On November 22, J*DaVeY is selling NDD on iTunes for just $2.99. You’re reading that correctly. The music is FREE.  What you’re paying for is a digital booklet full of pics, lyrics, and the story behind why they ain’t really foolin’ with Warn-A-Brothas too tough.  So yeah, you might wanna sacrifice buying that box of Altoids and take a chance on New Designer Drug.

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This new body of work is represented in three parts:  a rock and roll heart, a pop soul, and an electronic brain.  There is a bit of a druggy ambience, a relaxed yet anxious, adventurous and horny vibe, that seems to carry the entire project.  It’s what we’ve come to expect from J*Davey, and they deliver the goods.  Repeated listens reward me with all kinds of sonic nuggets that are stuck in my psyche.  And that, my friends, is what a good album does, even if it’s a big ole cluster-fuck of genres.  The track that embodies this theory the most, and is my favorite so far, is “Kill 4 Fun.”

This album was not an easy listen for me at first.  Instead of trying to just enjoy it, I was too busy trying to “get” it.  So I shifted gears and decided that I actually wanted to enjoy it rather than de-code it.  Lo and behold, not only do I get it, but I love it!  Remembering how fun it was to have seen some of these songs performed live (“Queen of Wonderland,” “Rock That Ship,” and “This One” in particular), as well as the overall cohesiveness and confidence of the music, make it easy for me to keep NDD on repeat.  And for $2.99, I don’t give a damn how hard times are, there’s no excuse as to why you can’t occupy iTunes and cop this album.  It’s a hell of a lot cheaper than smack, and you get the same effects.

I started hearing rumblings about dude being nice, but I wasn’t falling for the banana in the tailpipe. I just couldn’t see money being nice. We could start with the simple fact (and I’m sure this will sound bad) he didn’t look like the type of MC I would mess with. I’m an old school cat and money looked like one of those “tight jean rappers” (what I like to call this new generation of MC’s) that are popping up EVERYDAY and that EVERY hip hop blog is christening as the next one. But one of my peoples hit me up like “yo, you need to check for Drake. He’s nice.” My response? “Yeah…whatever.” Then another one of my peoples hit me up (who’s 180 degrees different from the first cat who hit me) saying the exact same thing. But I’m STILL not falling for it. Then ANOTHER one of my peoples got at me saying the EXACT SAME THING! And this dude is the total opposite of the last dude who hit me up. (My circle of music cats range from college grads, business professionals and blue collar workers to the unemployed, peace people and drug dealers) So as much as I don’t want to, I gotta put my new philosophy to the test. So I checked out Drake’s “So Far Gone” mixtape…and I actually LOVED it! And as crazy as it may sound to a lot of my hip hop brethren, not only did I become a fan of dude but his album “Thank Me Later” actually cracked my top 5 list of albums last year. So since I’m a fan now, I’m expecting a ‘lil more from dude this time round but I really haven’t been feeling some of the new stuff that’s been floating around leading up to this new album. So now what am I expecting from Take Care? That’s a good question.

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Take Care starts off with “Over My Dead Body” which is cool but isn’t the way I’d set off my sophomore album while trying to live up to the hype of being christened “the next one” but it doesn’t take but a minute for the album to start getting my attention with “Shot For Me” which has Drake’s producer Noah “40″ Shebib freaking a dope SWV filtered sample and has Drake on his Def Poetry Jam jawn with lines like “may your neighbors respect you, trouble neglect you, angels protect you and heaven accept you.” “Crew Love” featuring The Weekend won’t have you forgetting the classic Jay Z, Bleak and Beans collabo of the same name but it’s still dope nonetheless. Take Care featuring Rihanaa has Drake on his house/club jawn and I’m sure everyone’s heard “Marvin’s Room” by now so no need to chime in on that. “Underground Kings” and the Just Blaze produced “Lord Knows” featuring Rick Ross showcase Drake over some harder beats while “Proud of You” featuring Nicki Minaj is cool but doesn’t come close to their last effort “Up All Night” off “Thank Me Later.”

“Doing It Wrong” featuring Stevie Wonder (on the harmonica) has Drake in complete R&B slow jam mode and “The Real Her” featuring (how many times can I say the word “featuring” when talking about an album in 2011? SMH) ‘Lil Wayne and Andre 3000 gives 3000 the lane to show why he’s one of the dopest MC’s walking the planet, “n-ggaz who are married don’t wanna go home/but we look up to them/they wish they were us/they want some new trim/we lust for some trust.” I’m a little too old for “Practice’s” chorus of “girl you look good why don’t you back that ass up/you a fine motherf-cker won’t you back that ass up” but I’m sure this will be the stripper anthem for 2012 but at least the album ends on a good note with the Don McKinney produced “The Ride.” But my favorite track off Take Care is “Look What You’ve Done” which is a heartfelt dedication to his mother and aunt and how they both have held him down.

At the end of the day, Drake’s music reminds me of McDonalds. I mean, does anyone REALLY go to McDonald expecting a gourmet meal? Naw, not at all. It’s just every now and then you get a taste for a Big Mac, so you cop one, you eat it, you enjoy it and you’re good. Now, if you go to McDonalds expecting the absolute best Man vs. Food burger you’ve ever tasted in your life, when you don’t get that is that McDonald’s fault or your fault? It’s yours because we ALL know what to expect from McDonalds. And it’s the exact same thing with Drake. If you expect to pop in Take Care and hear something that sounds like the Nas/Primo collabo we’ve been waiting almost 20 years for or some mind blowing boom bap hip hop and you don’t get that, is that Drake’s fault or yours?

Again, it’s yours.

By now we all know what Drake is gonna give you. Rhyming for a minute before the drums drop, singing one minute, rhyming the next, those infamous “Drake” style beats that Noah and Boi 1Da lace him with (that ALL sound the same and always have me singing Jamie Foxx’s “Fall For Your Type” even though I’m listening to a Drake song). So it shouldn’t be a shock when that’s what you get. And I’ll be the first to admit, that even though I’m trying to eat healthier as I get up in age I can’t front, from time to time I still get a taste for some McDonalds.

Like myself, Glover grew up as an awkward Black kid in The “New” South. It’s a rather fascinating world where you could have friends of multiple races and faces, yet still face the consequences of living in an area of the country still tainted by segregation. So in turn, Glover was most likely picked on for being the smartest kid in class, for liking comic books, and the like–and most likely by Black people more than his White counterparts.

So lies the complexities within Donald Glover’s alter ego Childish Gambino. Let’s let the cat out of the bag,Gambino is kind of a fake. In this character, he manages to rip off every rapper imaginable, from Drake, to Wayne to (and most notably) Kanye. Now, of course he raps very well, almost besting his influences in some cases, but honestly as far as a rapper he brings nothing new to the table.

However, where Camp wins is not in it’s cadence but in it’s content. Childish Gambino might just be the best out of the class of so-called “post-racial” rappers. Sure he raps about girls (on “Kids”), but the most poignant lyrics deal with his insecurities as a “smart” Black guy in a still White world. Let’s face it, Glover is America’s Black friend, a dude that’s well-spoken, articulate, and can debate you on Star Wars until late in the night. But being that friend is tough. You’re either too Black or not Black enough. Those types of racial identities take a toll, and Glover’s ability to bring this to the forefront is where he shines.

On “Hold You Down,” he speaks of not getting held down by “the man,” but his own people. It’s aimed at the Black people in this world never gave him is “ghetto pass.” Again, as a dude who got teased for being the smartest person in class, I know the feeling. But the choice line from this song completely destroys the haters: “Culture shock in barber shops cause I ain’t hood enough/we all look the same to the cops/Is that hood enough?”

Add to this his opening lines on “Backpackers,”That well spoken token that’s never been heard, the only White rapper that’s allowed to say the n-word.” A marvelous play on words if you ask me.

The beautiful thing about this album is that these lines are delivered with such ferocity. Unlike Drake, Kid Cudi, or even Kanye, Glover sees his insecurities as a badge of honor. It’s almost like he’s screaming “Hey, I’m the nerdy Black kid from NYU, but fuck YOU. I got more money than any of y’all and I’m banging your girl. WHUT Nigga?”

With the Black unemployment rate nearing 20%, most people will dismiss Gambino’s diatribes as #FirstWorldProblems. But there is more than that. Gambino shows the true complexities of race is living, vivid color.  As a writer and actor, Glover has played his greatest role yet.

8.5 out of 10. 

As Ambition’s executive producers, venturing out to experiment with unfamiliar producers did not appear to be one of the D.C. native’s or Rick Ross’s objectives when it came to putting this album together. Tone P, Mark Henry, the laudable producer Toomp and Roc Nation’s Deputy all previously produced for Wale. Be that as it may, that is not a bad thing, for they worked well together on the album.

Still, diversity is very much present in Wale’s sophomore album. He outstripped any naked eye thoughts that persist when it comes to his inclusion in MMG (Maybach Music Group) by killing the song “Legendary,” which has a beat ideal for Ross.

“It’s something to be great. It’s nothing to be famous,” and “Say yes one time, they use you. Say no one time, they plotting,” are just a few bars of Wale’s exceptional lyricism in “Legendary.”

Over and above that, Wale also showed versatility spitting on an alternative beat by Kore on “Focused” featuring Kid Cudi and the foot-tapping “Slight Work” produced by Diplo, which Big Sean adds a nice verse to.

T-Minus provided the platform, with his production, for Wale to get on a rugged record, something he does not often do, but that did not hinder the song’s flair.

Besides tackling a new array of beats, the Roc Nation-managed artist touched upon some R&B records, such as current single “Lotus Flower Bomb” featuring Miguel and the lone, detestable track of the album “Sabotage” featuring Lloyd that ironically is the longest record on the disc. On the other hand, “Illest B—-” is the preeminent R&B track on Ambition and consists of that enjoyable, poetic bits Wale has all but trademarked.

“Miss mother nature, I pray that our daughters carry and favor your genes. And, when you take off your jeans, you get all the me that you need,” voiced Wale on “Illest B—-.”

Too, on “Double M Genius,” one can envision Wale squinching his eyebrows while grabbing a microphone attached to a shock mount, thanks to the sporadic intensity of his delivery on the record. To boot, “DC or Nothing” is the reverse, in a way, as it seems to spark emotions within Wale as he speaks on fallen friends, violence in DC and even politics.

More About Nothing remains my preferred recording by Wale, and that is not to say Ambition failed in any way. It, more or less, has all one can ask for in an album. Don’t believe me or think I’m biased, check it out for yourself. The outcome I expect if one does listen is not holding his/her applause after the conclusion of listening, which is sure to arrest one’s attention and cause the permanent incarceration of any remaining skepticism of Wale’s artistry as Ambition preludes unassailable appreciation.

This is a Washington, DC story with international implications.

Much maligned Washington, DC area rapper Wale’s sophomore release Ambition dropped on Tuesday morning, and in the mind of this columnist, is a perfect album. However, this isn’t a discussion of the lyrical abilities of the Prince George’s County, Maryland native, but rather a tale of the nature of hip hop’s handling of it’s newest princes aiming for the now established throne at the top of the game. In settling on and creating an expectation for his material, Wale has decided likely the best, if not most controversial path for his ascension. Instead of lambasting the Maybach Music Group aligned emcee, I stand here in praise of his work.  They don’t call it the music friends, they call it the music business. When the game switches from getting people to like you on Facebook, follow you on Twitter and download your mixtapes for free to making as much money as quickly as humanly possible, the rules for appreciating an emcee and finding value in their work change as well. In the story of Wale, we tell the story of the rise of hip hop’s latest defining generation.

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If you’re going to be a rapper talking about something, you need to find a gimmick that adds worth and truth to the meaning of your words. The easiest way to do this is to carefully identify yourself as an independent performer. You eschew all notion of labels, and the oft dreaded “label politics,” and your fan base is willing to connect with you because of your inherent desire to remain “true to your ideals.” Like Tony Montana realizing that “his balls and his word is all (he) has,” fellow DC emcees like Oddisee and Tabi Bonney have excelled in meeting this notion. The road isn’t headed towards iced out chains and Bentley coupes, but rather towards a lifelong supply of Tom’s Shoes and the ability to enjoy a nice dinner every two weeks.

Wale seemingly never wanted to be a rapper rapping about something. Attention Defiicit actually fails because of this. This man simply wants to smoke, drink, party and look fly while doing it. His potential for mainstream success is entirely linked to being a rapper who’s unbelievably great at rapping about these notions, which when compared to the likes of Kid Cudi, makes him look like he’s rapping about absolutely nothing at all. He even has two Seinfeld inspired mixtapes, “A Mixtape About Nothing,” and “More  About Nothing” that attest to this fact. The necessary route that a man who deigns to be a pillar to the altar of ultimate meaninglessness is to acquire a team, a label, a brand that lives in the maximal ideal. MMG is this generation’s ultimate example of this ideal. Wale isn’t Oddisee, he’s Wiz Khalifa, a rapper born–like some new rappers gaining relevance–in a minimalist experience with enormous dreams that are bigger than a box with wires and the concept of humility could ever hold.

Ambition is an amazing album because it’s one of the few times in rap history that a performer has written a “fuck you” to his legion of haters and left them grasping at straws in dank, dreary “underground hip hop” nights and engaging in slavish blog devotion leading a rising emcee to a sad, cold destination as songs number 600-799 on someone’s 25,000 track iTunes playlist. Wale has exchanged poorly aimed critical hate for the warm smiles that can only come when a pretty girl is blinded by your ice and imagining herself living from inside of your pockets. Ambition is yet another meaningless word that like rapping “More About Nothing,” people can place their hopes, dreams and aspirations into. Wale’s  switched from being the guy endearingly dreaming about one pair of “Nike Boots,” to wanting to own the entire Nike brand.

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“11-1-11″ mixtape track “Bait” threw many off the scent. However, if we were more aware, it wouldn’t have. Remember B.O.B.? Once a heralded underground emcee who was a rapping ass rapper who loved guitars and being from the South,  he climbed aboard a money-laden “Airplane” and changed.  Occasionally, in a ham handed attempt to not forget his indie roots, he drops the occasional mixtape that bloggers say is “B.O.B. not forgetting his past.” “11-1-11″ is Wale following those footsteps. “Bait” passionately name drops over 25 DC specific people, places and things. It’s the kind of song that makes you love to be from the DMV, as rapped by someone from the DMV. Smartly, Wale’s guiding gimmick is not “I’m a DMV rapper.” Though Ambition features the anthemic “DC or Nothing,”the city is not at a level of mainstream acceptance to push it as a a gimmick with intrigue.  At present, being a DC-based dude writing albums around champagne dreams and vague notions open to anyone’s interpretation? A better initial fit allowing for the eventual growth of a DMV-centric brand.

It’s now apparent that Wale’s ambition was not to be your superstar, but the world’s superstar.  He finally got it right.

Stream on Spotify: J Cole – Cole World: The Sideline Story

Predicting J Cole’s debut album Cole World: The Sideline Story was going to be stately was not beyond one’s wildest dreams. Cole was all but fated to be great by dint of his doughty tales of which many relate, and Cole World: The Sideline Story is no aberration.

In the main, production on an album is imputed to producers, but then the Roc Nation artist is recherché. Cole produces a dozen of the tracks on the recording, and he is on a par with Eminem when it comes to producing records apposite to their modus operandi. Cole’s “Nobody’s Perfect” featuring Missy Elliot is the perfect case in point. The song is set in motion with a morsel of gimcrack production that encapsulates the track’s abstraction.

Even so, the comparisons do not peter out there. Scores of people compare Em to Tyler, The Creator owing to eldritch lyrics both have rapped, but the similarities cease there. Cole is more analogous to Em on the strength of being backed by a hip-hop icon and vouchsafing their life in their music without a soupcon of writ large foreboding.

“If you know my momma, you know me… And, I know I ain’t been calling, but I’m thinking about you and all the s— that you’ve been through. My girl and then my brother too,” the North Carolina native voiced on “Dollar and a Dream III.”

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Before anything else, how many rappers compare themselves to their mom and also avow the fact that they have a girl (not a wife or babymother) in a debut album? There are scarcely any, if any, which makes a lot of Cole’s bars, on the album, meritorious and remind one of Eminem’s confidence to not have any trepidation when it came to sharing personal facets of his life in verses.

All the same, “Dollar and a Dream III” is not the most intimate track. In “Lost Ones,” Cole divulges his views on abortion. “Never Told” illustrates how as a young male he was instructed by his father to not discuss cheating in order to come of age. And, then there’s “Breakdown,” which discloses his feelings towards his father and his mother’s drug addiction.

The sangfroid to include “Lights Please” and “In the Morning” featuring Drake ought to also be discerned. Putting two mixtape tracks on the album took some grit seeing as longtime fans might have gotten or are upset since they were bent on the album being composed of only new tracks.

If there has ever been a debut, hip-hop album as mesmerizingly revealing as Cole’s, I missed it. Without question, listeners that hear the entire album with heed will end up hearing good music and learning his story. Cole has been a thin on the ground rapper since he was underground, and, with Cole World: The Sideline Story, he did what was expected of him…exceed.

I never liked Little Brother…sorry, I just didn’t. I never thought they were wack, I just didn’t see the hype. Before I even heard a song I was hearing how they were the “saviors of hip hop”, how Pete Rock invited them up to the basement and how everyone from Primo to Questlove was co-signing them. When I finally heard The Listening… it was cool but to me it wasn’t anything mind blowing. And trust me, I KNOW that I’m in the minority with that train of thought, but the one thing that was the bright spot for me in the group was one of the MC, Phonte. I don’t know how to explain it but dude just had “it.” I remember when BIG died and a lot of people were saying that Jay Z was gonna be the next “one” but in my eyes, Mos Def had all of the intangibles to be the next one. It was just something about Mos, he had everything you could want from a MC but of course Mos choose the Hollywood route banging out movies vs. dropping more Blackstarr and hip hop albums.  But the same way I felt about Mos back in ‘96, is the same way I feel about Phonte. Money is a star, point blank period. And not only is Phonte one of the nicest MC’s in the game but now money has added singing to his resume and he’s dope at that too. So, 10 years after The Listening originally dropped, I’m FINALLY getting my wish for Phonte to drop that solo album and trust me, I’m ALL ears.

From the door, Phonte’s comedic (did I mention money is damn near a stand up comedian too?) side shines through on “Dance In The Reign.” Over an nice organ riff Phonte tells you so eloquently “and I don’t this all for hip hop…I’m lying like sh-t, I do this sh-t for my mortgage and my bills” and then goes on to tell you “I’m back in the kitchen with a silk apron, let that boy saute you.” “The Good Fight” reunites Phonte with 9th Wonder and has Phonte speaking on the hustles of life, “$5 gas and poverty rates/are rising much higher than your hourly rates/so if you thinking about quitting you should probably wait/cause everybody gotta do a f-cking job that they hate” and “Not Here Anymore” featuring Elzhi has two of the dopest mc’s in the game on the same track and has Elzhi doing what he does best, “I’m poetic while they pothetic/I’ll play their life like a movie/and in the end give them no credit/I was told to run it so I grip the baton/and spit magic like it’s pouring out the tip of a wand/don’t trip, you ain’t equip to fix your lip and respond/I plan to X you out like the man who hand you and script the Quran/since life flipped, I’m getting chips in Milan/pull dips, push whips like the ones in the clips of the Tron film. “Sending My Love” has ‘Te talking about the ups and downs of marriage and let’s us know that there’s nothing open at 4am except legs and hospitals. “Ball and Chain” and “To Be Yours” has ‘Te on his R&B jawn while “We Go Off” featuring Pharoahe Monch and “The Life of Kings” featuring Evidence and Big K.R.I.T. gets us back to the boom bap side of things. But the banger on “Charity Starts At Hone” that stays on repeat for me is easily the S1 and Caleb produced “Gonna Be A Beautiful Night” featuring Carlitta Durand…you can’t go wrong with that jawn at all.

Charity Starts At Home plays like the soundtrack of the working man’s life. Phonte finds a way to touch on the struggles that we all face on a daily basis, trying to balance love and life and does it in a way that will make you laugh, cry and nod your head all at the same time. My only beef with the project is I felt the some of the production could’ve been tighter. I totally get that the whole 9th Wonder/Phonte reunion was a big deal for all of the Little Brother fans out there but I would’ve loved for Phonte to venture out and grab some other producers to round out the project better. But at the end of the day, Phonte helps to dead my dude Sonny’s philosophy from the “Bronx Tale” that the working man is a sucker cause just like Deniro had to school Calogero and let him know that the working man is the real tough guy, Phonte is telling us the exact same thing.

8 outta 10

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Straightforwardness is a direction numerous rappers steer clear of because either they lack lyrical dexterity or have the desire to keep their personal matters off the map. Neither of the two circumstances comes across as being applicable to Drake, and, with the vehement record “Club Paradise,” he drives that home easily despite the abundant traffic of generality produced by other rappers.

Drizzy’s compeer, Noah “40” Shebib, composed the mellow beat for the song that is complementary to the subtle flow Drizzy opted to use due to its intimate keynote. The work 40 contributes to the record just augments more pressure to the pipeline of producers trying to match his instrumental acuity.

Referring to the track as part two to “Fear” from So Far Gone is apt, for the Toronto native does quite a bit of “venting” and does “put it all in the open.” Into the bargain, he alludes to his relationship, now that he is successful, with a family member, his team and old friends, which he echoes in “Club Paradise.”

“My mother is back to who she was years ago. It’s like a new page, me and her, beginning on. I wish she stop checking up on women I can’t stand. Because I got new girls I could use an opinion on. She thinks I’ve become a slave to the wealth. But, I never break the promises I made to myself,” airs Drake at the beginning of his last verse on “Club Paradise.”

Apart from the innermost disclosures, the OVOXO affiliate showcases, once again, his competence of utilizing metaphors and similes within his songs.

Case in point, “… How a bottle of wine become the fountain of youth,” articulates Drizzy in the track. That one bar is grand, for it conveys how the better elements of one age group can amend another.

“They say it is on, when they see me. That day don’t ever come. I’m never scared. They never real. I never run. When all is said and done, more is always said than done,” rapped Drake, which are the most rugged bars I have ever heard from him.

The consummate rapper’s absence of trepidation to divulge private information at times while still exhibiting his artistry has driven many fans’ and critics’ fondness for his music to consider him amongst hip-hop’s, unambiguous nonpareils. “Club Paradise” is a suggestion of the road to legendary that he began paving for himself with So Far Gone and plans to continue constructing with Take Care.

Fresh out of the gym, I check my Twitter account and notice that Stone wrote to me, asking whether or not I received his e-mail that inquired if I wanted to cover Lil Wayne’s Tha Carter IV. By good fortune, the e-mail never made it to my inbox, for it would have resulted in a comme il faut review. I was beside myself when I heard “It’s Good” featuring Jadakiss and Drake as though I was a part of Roc Nation. For all that, time has passed, the fabled Russell Simmons clarified the quarrel via Twitter, and I have fathomed Tha Carter IV under its terms in lieu of my terms. Ergo, Lil Wayne’s fair endeavor to, at last, piece together a classic album is not unnoticed.

To assure the public was cognizant of its release, the New Orleans native issued the short mixtape Sorry 4 the Wait and “It’s Good” before August 29^th. Once Simmons shed light on how the song was for promotion and the two are friends, it became clear to me.

“Talking about baby money. I got your baby money. Kidnap your b—-, get that how much you love your lady money,” professed Wayne on “It’s Good.”

If he, in truth, had a problem with Jay-Z and wanted to assure a reply from him, he would have rapped, ‘Talking about baby money. I got your baby money. F— your b—-, make you pay that $300 that ain’t my baby money.’

Vexation with the current work by producers of distinction engendered Tunechi’s selection of a profusion of unsung producers for Tha Carter IV. One of those producers is Megaman, and, with his production of the song “MegaMan,” he manufactured the ne plus ultra of beat for Tunechi, which appears to have led to YMCMB’s czar naming it after its producer.

On the other hand, Wayne’s selection of which songs make the standard album as opposed to the deluxe edition is startling. “Abortion,” the song where Wayne seemed to have a Rebirth flashback, should have been aborted due to its shoddy production and feeble bars.

What’s more, the admirable record “Mirror” featuring Bruno Mars was a bonus track rather than one of the tracks on the standard album, which is harebrained. Despite its not up to scratch production by Cool & Dre, even “I Like the View,” another bonus track, should have made the album before “Abortion,” “Interlude” and “Outro.”

“If I’m flirting with perfection, I’m f—ing her tonight… Life is a midget. So, try to live it up,” voiced Tune on “I Like the View.”

At any rate, “6 Foot 7 Foot” featuring Cory Gunz, “John” featuring Rick Ross and “How to Hate” featuring T-Pain exhibits Wayne’s mastery at collaborating.

On “Intro” and “Nightmares of the Bottom,” the deft old hand shows he still has the touch to stand on his own two feet on a record.

It is all but plain to see that Weezy was casting his mind back to my favorite of Tha Carter series, Tha Carter II, by using one instrumental more than once on an album. Even so, as much as I enjoy Tha Carter II seeing as it includes some of his optimal work and was the album that made me avow that he would become a hip-hop luminary, it is not a classic, but it is a great album. Tha Carter IV is not a classic either. Yet, it is a Weezy F. album, and the F is for fair.