For Myself & Others: Can 50 Keep it Up?
By Bomani Jones, AOL BlackVoices columnist
Rappers are generally afforded the privilege of saying whatever they want about whomever they choose so long as they bring the heat on wax. With a lackluster new album in stores, 50 Cent is definitely talking too much.
In hip-hop, like real life, talking too much isn't about how much one says; instead, it's about what one says and when one chooses to speak. For the last three years, Fiddy has talked about Ja Rule like a redheaded stepchild, demonizing Jeffrey until his career approached irrelevance and his latest, surprisingly hot album was largely ignored by the public as a result. Fans were OK with that for three reasons: The disses were funny, there was real beef and Fiddy's "Get Rich or Die Tryin" was blazing. Now, Fiddy's disses sound silly, his beefs contrived and his new album, "The Massacre," isn't good.
It's time for Curtis to chill out.
On "The Massacre," Fiddy uses "Piggy Bank" to take unnecessary shots at three emcees, calling Nas a "sucker for love" and blasting Fat Joe and Jadakiss because they don't move as many units as he does. Perhaps there's something to those beefs that hasn't been made public -- deeper than Joe and Jada's appearances on Ja's "New York" -- but "Piggy Bank" sounds bad, literally and figuratively. It's bad to dog cats for no good reason but worse than that, the song is weak. Months ago it was rumored that Funkmaster Flex refused to put the song on a mixtape because of the shots at Joe, Jada and Nas but it's more likely that Flex wouldn't add the song because it's just not good The beat, hook and lyrics are all blah.
Really, most of the album is blah. There are a couple of strong tracks, notably "A Baltimore Love Thing," a metaphorical, cautionary tale about heroin, but too much of the material sounds played, too many of the beats lack edge and there are few reasons to rewind. Making things worse is the fact that Fiddy's label mate, The Game, dropped the best record of the new year about a month ago, a record that avoids all three of those pitfalls. "The Documentary" is a production masterpiece. The Game's style is fresh (though he can be lyrically repetitive) and there are more than a few reasons to go back and listen again.
Two years ago, Fiddy was hip-hop's next big thing. But in a game where cats are only as hot as their last records, Fiddy is no longer the hottest cat in G-Unit, let alone hip-hop.
It's unlikely anyone needs to tell that to Fiddy, for it seems he's attempting to get back on top by bringing The Game down. Reports have surfaced that in the March issue of Vibe, Fiddy says that signing to G-Unit saved Game from getting dropped by Interscope, that "The Documentary" is merely a collection of tracks he vetoed from his own album, and that Game "doesn't know when to shut up" (which sounds like the pot calling the kettle Flava Flav). Fiddy also recently appeared on Flex's radio show on HOT 97 in New York and officially kicked The Game out of G-Unit. Then, less than an hour later a Los Angeles member of Fiddy's posse was shot in the station lobby.
The shooting suggests one of two things: Serious business or an act of desperation. Both are bad news, and this week's sudden truce makes the latter that much more believable.
Here's the thing -- the places where "Get Rich" got it just right, "The Massacre" is dead wrong. Entertaining though Fiddy may be, the real stars of "Get Rich or Die Tryin" were his ears and the incredible beats they led him to choose. If he's telling the truth and really did turn down the beats on "The Documentary," his sense of what's dope has let him down. Albums as well-produced as Game's are rare. But more importantly, what separated Fiddy from other rappers of his ilk was that his gangsta streak was complemented by an uncommon sense of humor. Never particularly insightful, Fiddy effectively relied on being clever. "The Massacre" tries to be funny but his attempts at humor are poor. Whether getting at other rappers or putting his relationship with Vivica A. Fox on blast, folks will laugh at Fiddy more than they'll laugh with him.
50 Cent sounds desperate and childish, and he certainly does not sound gangsta. None of the gangstas, let alone real live gangsters, I know talk this much smack about people for no reason (a point Fat Joe recently made on Kay Slay's "Drama Hour"), especially not about those in their crews. Two years ago, Fiddy may have gotten away with this but his shtick has worn thin with one shaky album.
On his next album, 50 Cent has two options -- step up or quit talking. In the meantime, the latter will suffice.
March 11, 2005