MUSIC REVIEWS
Ice Cube - Laugh Now Cry Later
Matt Jameson
The fact that very few may even know a new Ice Cube album is in stores is a disappointment. A West Coast staple who ruled during the late-eighties and early nineties with a socially/ politically-charged ferociousness (and the most intimidating Jheri curl) that hasn’t been matched since, Cube’s well-documented metamorphosis into a bankable comedic/ action-adventure actor paralleled the public’s focus on his more simple-minded club fare (“You Can Do It”). At once a feared emcee who caused an uproar with lyrics dripping of sexism, racism and anti-cop rage enraptured with potent funk-based beats, Ice Cube remains just as intense, though not as maliciously politically incorrect, besting most of his contemporaries when it comes to solid delivery and message-filled lyrics. Laugh Now, Cry Later, his eighth solo album and first released through his own independent label, justifies his strengths as a still-bankable rapper even without the controversial markings that colored the classics of his past.
Ice Cube marks his return on the album’s first cut, “Why We Thugs”: “Since I was a little ain’t a god damn thing changed/ It’s the same ol same/ Bush run shit like Sadaam Hussein”. With that one line, the irate hood commentator makes it clear that he has lost none of his street poet luster and has no intentions of going soft, no matter how many sequels to “Are We Their Yet?” we must face. As early as his days with NWA, Ice Cube has always been one of the few emcees able to translate inner-city life with a distant, informed perspective. That talent re-emerges on the harrowing truths of “The Nigga Trapp” (“The ghetto is a nigga trap/ Take the cheese/...Invented and designed for us to fail/ Where you gon’ end up/ Dead or in jail”) or title track, which coasts through the life of a young man driven by his “don’t give a fuck” mentality. Cube impeccably captures the unbridled anger of one raised in the trappings of the hood (“A product of this urban decay”), unable to see past vengeance and thug machismo, ultimately leading to a stint in prison where he continues to plot murder as soon as he makes parole. Cut off from the world while behind bars, the man wonders why no one’s answering his phone calls, desperately claiming to be a “changed” man to people who could care less. Others would’ve turned this into a preachy lecture on how not to live your life, but Cube chooses to nakedly display the realities of some, leaving you to come to your own judgment.
In between the dissings of Bush, Schwarzanegger and Flavor Flav, Cube reflects on the beginnings of his rap career (“Growin Up”), brushes off the new school of gangsta rappers he helped influenced (“Child Support”) and rocks not one, but two well-done Lil Jon/ Snoop collaborations (“You Gotta Lotta That” and “Go To Church”) over a modern day weed-lovers’ soundtrack. At times, Cube’s performance is so strong, that you nearly forget that this was recorded in 2006 and not ten years earlier. A surprisingly robust comeback from a rap legend that lives up to the legacy without at all feeling dated, Laugh Now, Cry Later proves that all the million dollar residual checks from “Friday” didn’t make the man lose the internal fire that made him one of the most powerful forces of gangsta rap.
