Post by Zapp Brannigan on Feb 6, 2011 20:42:03 GMT -5
www.lifessweetbreath.com/reviews/albums/19-gutter-rainbows.html
Talib Kweli - Gutter Rainbows
[Blacksmith, 2011]
78%
One thing about Talib Kweli: the man marches to the beat of his own drum. Ever since he bursted onto the scene in the late 90s as one-half of beloved rap duo Black Star (who, by the way, are all set for a big “reunion” at Bonnaroo 2011), he’s been the kind of hip-hop auteur that’s done things his way. So it makes a world of sense that nine albums into his career, he would be releasing his new album on his very own record label, Blacksmith Music. This kind of creative control has afforded Kweli the opportunity to do on his 9th studio album, Gutter Rainbows, what he’s done his whole career—stay true to himself and to his skills as an MC by placing the emphasis on his rapping instead of his hooks.
Kweli’s conscious decision to put his pure rapping skills front and center, with little to deter attention from them, works almost like a stubbornly rebellious act. After all, many of the most acclaimed hip-hop records of 2010 were arguably hook-driven records. From Kanye West’s My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy to Big Boi’s Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty to Black Milk’s Album of the Year, many of hip-hop’s most successful albums last year came dangerously (or, depending on where you stand, seductively) close to plain ol’ pop music. Kweli, though, hasn’t budged from his belief in a purer form of hip-hop. There are still some catchy melodies and ear-grabbing beats on songs like “I’m on One” and “Cold Rain,”to be sure, but Kweli works mostly like an old blues guitarist who would rather rely on a propensity to jam—or in Kweli’s case, rap—than repeatedly return to the cozy home of a nice melody.
Even the number of producers Kweli utilizes on Rainbows speaks to this fact—every single one of the album’s fourteen tracks credits a different producer. Kweli spreads the love, possibly because he isn’t as concerned with who’s producing the track as he is with following the beat just enough to do what he does best—furiously complex rhyming sprinkled with pop culture references to people like Michael Stipe of R.E.M. (“Voice cracking like Michael Stipe ‘cause everyone hurts” on “Friends & Family”) and writer Kurt Vonnegut (“You hear ‘em coming with the sirens and titans like Kurt Vonnegut” on “I’m On One”). These pop culture references may be a sizable part of what has garnered Kweli a reputation as a “conscious rapper”—which has always been a vaguely racist tag; just ask Kweli’s former partner Mos Def —but where Kweli’s real intelligence lies is in his ability to mix his observations on life with the stories that he’s telling in an attempt to, as he states on the title track, “give a voice to the voiceless.” Just the sheer magnitude of the amount of lines and words in each song on Gutter Rainbows can intimidate a listener the way approaching Homer’s The Odyssey or any epic poem can intimidate a potential reader. This might be why breakout commercial success has escaped the incredibly gifted Kweli. But with Kweli, it’s all about the words; it always has been.
-Kyle A. Rosko, January 31, 2011
Talib Kweli - Gutter Rainbows
[Blacksmith, 2011]
78%
One thing about Talib Kweli: the man marches to the beat of his own drum. Ever since he bursted onto the scene in the late 90s as one-half of beloved rap duo Black Star (who, by the way, are all set for a big “reunion” at Bonnaroo 2011), he’s been the kind of hip-hop auteur that’s done things his way. So it makes a world of sense that nine albums into his career, he would be releasing his new album on his very own record label, Blacksmith Music. This kind of creative control has afforded Kweli the opportunity to do on his 9th studio album, Gutter Rainbows, what he’s done his whole career—stay true to himself and to his skills as an MC by placing the emphasis on his rapping instead of his hooks.
Kweli’s conscious decision to put his pure rapping skills front and center, with little to deter attention from them, works almost like a stubbornly rebellious act. After all, many of the most acclaimed hip-hop records of 2010 were arguably hook-driven records. From Kanye West’s My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy to Big Boi’s Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty to Black Milk’s Album of the Year, many of hip-hop’s most successful albums last year came dangerously (or, depending on where you stand, seductively) close to plain ol’ pop music. Kweli, though, hasn’t budged from his belief in a purer form of hip-hop. There are still some catchy melodies and ear-grabbing beats on songs like “I’m on One” and “Cold Rain,”to be sure, but Kweli works mostly like an old blues guitarist who would rather rely on a propensity to jam—or in Kweli’s case, rap—than repeatedly return to the cozy home of a nice melody.
Even the number of producers Kweli utilizes on Rainbows speaks to this fact—every single one of the album’s fourteen tracks credits a different producer. Kweli spreads the love, possibly because he isn’t as concerned with who’s producing the track as he is with following the beat just enough to do what he does best—furiously complex rhyming sprinkled with pop culture references to people like Michael Stipe of R.E.M. (“Voice cracking like Michael Stipe ‘cause everyone hurts” on “Friends & Family”) and writer Kurt Vonnegut (“You hear ‘em coming with the sirens and titans like Kurt Vonnegut” on “I’m On One”). These pop culture references may be a sizable part of what has garnered Kweli a reputation as a “conscious rapper”—which has always been a vaguely racist tag; just ask Kweli’s former partner Mos Def —but where Kweli’s real intelligence lies is in his ability to mix his observations on life with the stories that he’s telling in an attempt to, as he states on the title track, “give a voice to the voiceless.” Just the sheer magnitude of the amount of lines and words in each song on Gutter Rainbows can intimidate a listener the way approaching Homer’s The Odyssey or any epic poem can intimidate a potential reader. This might be why breakout commercial success has escaped the incredibly gifted Kweli. But with Kweli, it’s all about the words; it always has been.
-Kyle A. Rosko, January 31, 2011