MUSIC REVIEWS
Juvenile - Reality Check
David Allun Jones
Seven albums deep and the guy who helped make Cash Money Records a platinum-selling empire by urging the ladies to “Back That Azz Up” still hasn’t lost his affection for booty. Following up the slinky, guitar-laden Cash Money send-off that was “Slow Motion”, Juvenile starts off his tenure on Atlantic Records with the weak, radio-friendly stripper ode “Rodeo”. The new single may strike fear that Juvie has tamed himself for the major label switch, but Reality Check finds the rapper playing it even more safe by staying true to his proven shtick: a steady stream of drug dealing how-tos, street threats and one night stands.
With his gloomy, Southern accented delivery, Juvenile has always come across as a wizened old soul, teaching the young masses about street survival with a smart, storytelling flair that ranks him miles above most emcees. The two tracks that end up defining the album appear as bookends, leading one to think that this album is more solid than it actually is. “Get To Know You” is a stand-out post-Katrina lament from the New Orleans native, condemning the powers-that-disappoint with raw diatribe (“Fuck Fox News/ I don’t listen to y’all ass/ Couldn’t get a nigga off the roof when the storm pass”). Closer “Say It To Me Now” rocks a haunting Slim Shady-like beat and weird conversation with God as Juvenile deals with the fall-out of his dissent with Cash Money.
The rest of the album is comparably middling thanks to dumbed down concepts and repetitive ideas. His refusal to continually challenge himself is frustrating, but not entirely unacceptable. He’s still able to make tracks as silly as “Loose Booty” fun, sounds surprisingly good when reunited with Mannie Fresh (“Animal”) and paired with Lil’ Jon (the catchy “Why Not”), and manages to pull off R&B collaborations with Brian McKnight and Trey Songz without compromising his masculinity.
In the end, Juvenile deserves credit for abandoning most 2006 Southern rap trends and staying true to the album’s title with his brazen charisma. Reality Check offers enough to satisfy long time followers but clever rhymes and brief moments of depth aren’t enough to justify the overlong twenty-one track length. Somewhere here a classic EP lies, but you have to drudge through too much irrelevancy to get to the good parts.
