MUSIC REVIEWS
Busta Rhymes - The Big Bang
David Allun Jones
The zany art-rap of the dual hits “Woo Hah! Got You All In Check” and “Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Can See” will guarantee Busta Rhymes a spot in the Hip Hop Hall of Fame no matter what, but Busta’s brilliant catalogue of bug-eyed music videos, uzi delivery and Armageddon-obsessed personality tended to overshadow the impact of his actual lyrical work. So it’s all the more surprising that The Big Bang, his renaissance debut on Aftermath, not only holds up as the strongest effort of his career but becomes the album that seems destined to make the East Coast relevant again. Yeah, Ghostface Killah’s Fishscale rings with more importance and Kanye’s albums loom large with endless ego-driven creativity and crate-digging lushness, but a likable balance of art and commerce makes this an album that will last longer than a season in your CD player.
Before, a Busta Rhymes album guaranteed a couple of surefire club bangers and one or two great street records but little else to hold attention to the dreadlocked loon over en extended listen. Possibly with the aid of CEO Dr. Dre, the level of filler is greatly reduced, and along with the new shaved head look arises an emcee who suddenly seems worthy of our time. In order to not alienate longtime fans, some element of off-beat kookiness must remain. “Legend of The Fall Offs” incorporates the dour sound effects of grave shoveling into it’s beat packaging in a clever tie-in to Busta’s take on life after the hip hop spotlight swings elsewhere while “Get Down” imaginatively pairs Rhymes’ nimble flow with Timbaland’s dazzling blend of brisk jungle percussion, frat boy chants and animal noises. Proven commercial gold is found on the two beneficial singles: the politically incorrect display of affection, “I Love My Bitch” (to which guest Kelis quickly responds “I love you nigga”) and “Touch It”, which six months, nineteen remixes and a real-life unsolved murder mystery later, still feels irresistible thanks to it’s bi-polar gimmick and novel Daft Punk-sampling hook. Unlike past releases, though, the cartoonish elements aren’t The Big Bang’s major selling point.
Bravely putting New York on his back, Busta rounds up some of the region’s greatest (DJ Premier, Q Tip, Nas, Raekwon) for a 90’s throwback feel that has been greatly missed. One whiff of the proud “New York Shit” or the Tip duet “You Can’t Hold A Torch”, a finger-wagging directed towards the lack of inspiration in today’s rap, and you’ll find yourself yearning to dust off East Coast staples like Dead Presidents, Illmatic, The Low End Theory and 36 Chambers. Busta also offers two excellent excerpts on street life which are as serious and thought-provoking as they are amazingly inventive: “Ghetto Life” interpolates chunks of the Rick James song of the same name to create a posthumous tribute to the massively underrated “punk-funk” icon while none other than Stevie Wonder enhances the sad, grandiose “Been Through The Storm”, a Grammy-deserving record that resonates strongly with it’s grim biographic details and near-magical musical elegance.
Busta’s stranglehold on the wild party rap formula remains uncontested, but the versatility expressed throughout The Big Bang finds him to be much more than one-dimensional. Boosted by his new status as an Aftermath franchise player, a recharged Busta steps up his game and succeeds in incidentally bringing focus back to hip hop’s birthplace.
