I got a hold of Dizzee Rascal's new album Tongue N' Cheek over the weekend, and it left me with one thought: An artist who can maintain success in a distinct sound or genre for any length of time is extremely rare.
Dizzee Rascal's first album, Boy In Da Corner, kept it dark and dirty. The rhymes were too slippery to understand most of the time, and as far as production goes, as odd as it sounds to hear ""grime"" almost always attached to his style, it really is the only way to properly describe his sound. It's reminiscent of an underground M.I.A. who mutated and stays in the sewers after a day of causing havoc, lamenting his trials using the organic rhythms that surround him.
Six years and 180 degrees later, Dizzee released the Wale-wannabe Tongue N' Cheek. It's harsh, but true. Wale's most distinctive feature is his ability to blanket listeners with incessant rhymes for the entirety of a song. Dizzee follows his lead by slowing down his pace to a comprehensible level for listeners. He uses this more relaxed flow for verses at a time, but without the extremity of the tactic it just doesn't hold its effect. And the comparatively bright production doesn't satisfy either. Thus we have a not necessarily bad but always disaffecting transformation.
This isn't an uncommon phenomenon in music, but it coming from one of the rawest characters in rap puts into perspective the personal transitions of artists. But as often as it is just personal transformation leading a talented artist to wander away from his bread and butter, there are artists who simply can't withstand the test of time as their creativity and inspiration wear thin once they reach the spotlight. And sometimes an artist's talent fails him, and then it's both.
Common, for example, I would throw in the last category. Be flirted with the line between his casual, lounge-room production and overzealous compositions, Finding Forever knowingly crossed that line and Universal Mind Control dove over it headfirst. I'm not saying he's not talented anymore, but he just doesn't seem as motivated or engaged, which only occurred after he found a piece of fame.
Jay-Z, as well, transformed throughout his career to the point where he is essentially a former Mafioso rap aficionado turned commercial rapper who puts out a classic album whenever he finds inspiration, such as his own retirement or a movie about drug dealing.
Ghostface Killah, on the other hand, stands as a successful example. He released a quasi-R&B album that retained enough of his classic traits to counteract most of the songs' awkwardly affectionate gangster hooks. You can tell it's still Ghostface, and he proves he's still a stellar storyteller, but I would've preferred something like Raekwon's latest release, Only Built for Cuban Linx... Part II, which was as authentic as his debut 14 years ago.
Similarly, there are several artists who can meld their music to their impulsive emotions, like Neil Young (Editor's Note: In last week's column, Mr. Young was not mentioned. The columnist deeply regrets this error.) Bob Dylan, Beck, of Montreal and the Roots are all examples of this, and Mos Def impressed me with how authentic this year's The Ecstatic feels. Built to Spill always do their own thing, regardless of how mainstream it has become over time.
But which category does Dizzee's release fit into? Is he not talented enough for long-term success? Is his production leading him and his sound to greener pastures? Or is he just writing a new chapter in his critically successful career?
Maybe it's wishful thinking, or maybe it's the fact that once you wade through the more radio-friendly front half there are ill tracks on the backside, but either way, I am not writing off Dizzee or Tongue N' Cheek as a fall or even a stumble. I'll give him the benefit of the doubt on this one and, for now, assume this is a new chapter. But just like Jay-Z, Ghostface, Common and all of the successful artists listed above, to attract universal acclaim, a return to his roots must be made. Just ask Eminem.
Think Common still brought it on his last few albums? Were you concerned when Justin didn't mention Neil Young for a whole week? E-mail him about it at jstephani@wisc.edu.
