In contrast to Sean McCann’s dazzling Music for Private Ensemble—another quintessentially 2013 release, a universe away—Pusha-T’s My Name Is My Name opens with a rolling snare. Unlike McCann’s restrained masterpiece though, it doesn’t sputter and die on “King Push”—it roars to life, fueled by Kanye West’s Yeezus-esque primordial production and Pusha’s snarling flow. The track sets the tone for the rest of the album, painting Pusha as a scowling drug kingpin reclining in his throne. He is, after all, only “missing a dash” in the “difference between [him] and Hova.”
Well, that’s at least true on one level. Most of the record spends its time lumbering around, flexing its arms, beefy from moving bricks of coke. Pusha fancies himself a gangster in a world of dulled words, and he never lets us forget it. “Sweet Serenade” features the stupidly fantastic line, “in that Phantom like I’m Blair Witch” and “Hold On” is another gorgeous Kanye produced ode to—you guessed it—peddling cocaine. Then the pattern repeats ad infinum; by the end of the record, you’re damn sure going to know just how much Pusha loves being the last real thug on the block, constantly rolling like Huell Babineaux or a more sinister Scrooge McDuck through a giant pile of money.
So, we get it, Pusha’s great—maybe him and Jay-Z will even meet up someday to discuss the exact magnitude of their awesomeness, if they haven’t already. Until then, what’s keeping us around to actually listen to him? Well, Pusha’s pretty smooth, in his own way. His delivery never really hits stunning levels, and there aren’t any real lines (minus the aforementioned Blair Witch pun—amazing) that will make your head spin. But My Name Is My Name, maybe despite some contrary self-marketing, doesn’t look to reinvent the wheel; rather, it’s a hyper refined version of the wheel that’s fun for the whole family. And Pusha’s the perfect salesmen—when he barks “I just wanna sell dope forever/I just wanna be who I am,” he sells it with total conviction.
Despite the all-around gorgeous/ominous production (a G.O.O.D. Music blessing), it shouldn’t be a huge surprise then that the real slayer here comes from someone that isn’t Pusha. Kendrick Lamar, on the oft-misspelled “Nosetalgia,” counters Pusha’s “I’m the best” mantra with a monstrous rebuke against Lamar’s own drug peddling father, insisting Lamar’s music is worth more by the brick than his dad’s dope.
It’s an ironic and biting placement for a guest spot, but Pusha’s allowance of something so ambiguously backhanded on his album is telling. Joining the ranks with the nearly as great “Numbers on the Board,” “No Regrets,” “Let Me Love You” and “Pain,” it’s obvious Pusha was only interested in putting out the best product he could. And while it may not scratch the same zeitgeist itch Good Kid M.A.A.D. City did last year, My Name Is My Name is still a remarkably entertaining record and some of the year’s best A-lister hip-hop.
Rating: A-
