Ghostface Killah, More Fish,
Def Jam
Pay attention, fools: Ghostface is back, this time servin’ up More Fish. The self-professed Shaolin Shadowboxer and former Wu-Tang Clan MC releases his follow-up to this year’s Fishscale on Tuesday. Like almost every Ghostface Killah record, More Fish has a fair share of top-notch bangers. But much of the album suffers from mediocre guest MC performances and hackneyed beats, tasting more like stale fish guts than grade-A halibut.
More Fish is most satiating when Ghostface assumes primary MC duties. Ghost comes out of the gates running with opener “Ghost Is Back,” wherein the MC asserts his rap dominance over a sinuous bass line, Public Enemy scratching and short saxophone interjections. The MF Doom-produced “Guns ‘N Razors” captures the villainous vibe of 1940s mystery radio programs, providing a perfect backdrop for Ghost to rant about gangster activity. “Good” is perhaps the album’s finest moment, with a hyperactive horn section and impeccably soulful chorus.
But the album is inevitably weighed down by several stinkers. “Greedy Bitches” and “Grew Up Hard” suffer from the same rudimentary thump-clap beats that plagued the Dre-produced tracks on Jay-Z’s Kingdom Come. The music behind “Gotta Hold On” would be too soft for Michael Jackson, let alone one of Staten Island’s meanest rappers. Sun God, Ghostface’s 17-year-old son, raps on two of Fish’s tracks, displaying a sluggish flow that lacks the desperation of his pop’s delivery. Furthermore, his couplets are elementary, rhyming “D” with “me” and “together” with, well, “together.”
While by no means a bad record, More Fish disappoints mostly because it fails to meet the high standard Fishscale set earlier this year. Standout tracks are the exception rather than the rule, and many of the cuts seem rushed. More Fish feels too much like a savvy business move, an attempt by Ghost to reel in consumer dollars in the midst of the holiday season.
—Traviss Cassidy
Clipse, Hell Hath No Fury,
Jive Records
When we last left the Virginia Beach duo of Pusha-T and Malice, their 2002 effort Lord Willin’ had topped Billboard’s R&B/Hip-hop album charts, come in fourth on the Billboard Hot 200 and gone gold in less than three months. But contract ambiguities and label disputes caused Jive Records to put their much-anticipated third album on hold for four years.
With Hell Hath No Fury, the Clipse are back, and they’re not shy about expressing their frustration with their label with lines like “it’s like trying to fly and they’re clipping you wings” on “We Got For Cheap.”
We’ve seen a resurgence of conscious rap with artists like Kanye and Lupe Fiasco. Hell Hath No Fury is a resurgence of straight East Coast gangsta rap that seemed to have died with Biggie Smalls in the mid ‘90s. It’s laden with drug references like “winter through the summer / care less what it cost me / while I’m shovelin this snow, man / call me frosty lovah” on “Ride Around Shining” and blazing word play like “flow chameleon/worth bout a million / feds in oblivion / bitch Brazilian / purse reptilian / took her to a far off island like Gilligan” on “Trill.”
In terms of depth, the album barely skims the surface. They talk about cocaine so much you wonder why they bothered to stop dealing. But you have to respect their lack of remorse. There are no bubble-gum raps, R&B ballads or insincere, tacked-on love songs. The closest they come is “Dirty Money,” with such lovingly rapped lines as “you can tell me ‘bout your day, I’ll pretend I’ll listen / and you ain’t gotta love me / just be convincin.’”
Hell Hath No Fury nails a rare trificta in hip-hop: dope beats, catchy hooks and expert lyrical prowess. The mix of The Neptunes’ exotic production and the Clipse’s lyrical wit creates an album both mainstream and hardcore rap fans will love.
—Errol Pierre-Louis
