The 7th Best Hip-Hop Album EVER MADE

In our last installment, Ethan paid tribute to Dr. Dre's modern-day classic and Scott gave love to Goodie Mob's soulful debut.  Here, we each share of our picks for the 7th best hip-hop album ever made.


Ethan's #7 Pick: Kanye West - The College Dropout (2004)

Since the release of Jay-Z’s classic 2001 album The Blueprint , I had been listening to Kanye West’s beats and freestyles, imagining what his own album might sound like when it came out. When some of his songs started hitting the streets, including “My Way”, “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly” (which ended up on Consequence’s debut 3 years later) and “Home” (which is still one of my favorite Kanye songs, and far superior to the Graduation remake with Chris Martin), I got excited, thinking these solid tracks were a sampling of the forthcoming album. When The College Dropout finally hit shelves in 2004, however, Kanye shattered all my expectations. By taking the soul-sample sound that he helped make famous to new heights and embracing a style of rapping that was unheard of in commercial hip-hop of the day, on his first album Mr. West created a classic of his own.

While Kanye is a commendable rapper, his real genius (and success) stems from his work on the other side of the sound booth glass. Having produced smash singles for Jay-Z (“H to the Izzo”), Talib Kweli (“Get By”), Ludacris (“Stand Up”), and even Alicia Keys (“You Don’t Know My Name”), Kanye had raised the bar, and expectations for this album, exceptionally high. He does not disappoint, though, pushing his celebrated style to new limits by selecting unique samples, mixing in keyboard and synthesized melodies and live instrumentation (Miri Ben-Ari is AMAZING), demonstrating a fresh take on the soul-sample beats that had flooded hip-hop since The Blueprint. Standout examples include “All Falls Down” (but the original version with Lauryn Hill is sooooo much better), “Spaceship”, “Slow Jamz”, and “Two Words”. Even the entirely original beats that don’t incorporate samples (“The New Workout Plan”, “Get Em High”), while among the weaker tracks of this album, are impressive compared to other songs of the day (The breakdown at the end of “The New Workout Plan” is fantastic).

This album is also notable because of Mr. West’s rhymes, which, while not lyrically incredible, are substantively very innovative. His themes range from comical to conscious, sometimes in a single verse (“Golly, more of that bullshit ice rap, I got to apologize to Mos and Kweli/But is it cool to rap about gold if I told the world I copped it from Ghana and Mali?”), from the material to the spiritual, and from rhyming about guns to rhyming about not rhyming about guns (“one waist, two gats”, “I woke up early this mornin' with a new state of mind/A creative way to rhyme without usin' knives and guns”). While seemingly contradictory, these clashing topics came from a simple honesty that was a refreshing and welcome change from a lot of the commercial hip-hop at that time. With so much recent praise being paid to Drake’s “everyday, middle-class guy” persona and introspective, deeply personal lyrics, it seems to have been almost forgotten that Kanye popularized the style five year earlier.

The guest appearances on this album are heavy and somewhat inconsistent (Jay-Z delivers two incredible verses on the stupefyingly good “Never Let Me Down”, while Common spits a mind-numbing and out of place 16 on “Get Em High” and Ludacris is just kind of there on “Breathe In, Breathe Out”), but are enjoyable on the whole. Similarly, the skits and interludes range from breathtaking (“Graduation Day”, I LOVE songs with talk box) to nauseating and pointless (“Workout Plan”) and could have easily been cut down (come on, two DeRay skits in a row?!?). These minor weaknesses, however, do very little to detract from this otherwise stellar effort.

Like my esteemed colleague (see Scott’s number 10 pick), I too love Kanye West’s entire catalogue (including the ever controversial 808s and Heartbreaks). I admire the fact that Kanye is not content with just doing what works, dramatically changing his sound from one album to the next. Where Scott finds Mr. West’s best work later on, a result of this growth, I think it comes from the foundation. The College Dropout is a presentation of the sound that made Kanye famous, the sound that he perfected, and what’s more, it’s a collection of some of the best examples of that sound (a result of ‘Ye “…saving all the good beats for himself”). Where he has gone from this starting point is remarkable, but like traveling around the world, nothing compares to home.

Scott's #7 Pick:  Clipse - Hell Hath No Fury (2006)

Over the years, drug dealer stories in rap have become so glorified or clichéd that listeners have given exceedingly less credence to them – believability, or “realness”, has become the main barometer in evaluating this type of music.

Clipse is one of the preeminent pushers of this so-called “crack rap”.  In 2006, the Virginia duo released Hell Hath No Fury, an album that delves deep into the crevasses of the drug world.  While filled with all of the glamorous perks that come with dealing drugs, every success is framed within a prevailing backdrop of regret, uncertainty and paranoia.  It is their willingness to unearth the tolls of hustling that gives their songs depth and separates it from its peers.  Hell Hath No Fury transcends any “realness” evaluation, as Pusha T and Malice tell a story so compelling that authenticity becomes irrelevant.  This is the quintessential crack rap album.

The Clipse have masterfully cast themselves in the larger than life world of drugs, with Pusha T at one point spitting “Paradise in reaches, home next to beaches/ Hair pressed, blowin' in the wind, shit 'bout long as Jesus”.  Cars, women, and money are no strangers here.  Like any good drug tale, Clipse take advantage of the excesses provided to them from drug slanging.  “Dirty Money” is dedicated solely to the topic of splurging drug money on women.  On the atypically upbeat “Ain’t Cha”, Pusha T acts as a villain, rapping “Epitaph reading how much damage you could take/ While I'm on the boat with ya bitch, salmon on the plate/ I know why you liked her, the head it was great”.  Ruthless.  And the duo isn’t afraid to engage in any violence that follows suit, particularly on the chilling “Chinese New Year”.  This is the stuff of movies, and most albums stop here.

But from the beginning, Clipse make it known that every excess comes at a cost.  On the organ-laced intro “We Got It For Cheap”, Malice expresses his distaste for hustling: “And to little brother Terrence who I love dearly so, If ever I had millions never would you sell blow, never”.  On “Momma I’m So Sorry”, the duo conveys regret for damage done to their family, with Malice saying that he can’t even look his wife in the eye.  “Keys Open Doors” makes it clear that crack dealing is a necessity, not a choice.  Even on the seemingly boastful “Ride Around Shining”, the preface “while I can afford it” shows uncertainty in sustaining such an exuberant lifestyle.  By the time album closer “Nightmares” rolls around, which describes their paranoia of dying or going to jail, Pusha and Malice's affliction becomes fully realized.

Accentuating their story is a dark backdrop provided by the Neptune’s off-kilter and sparse production.  The extravagant soul samples typically used by drug rappers have been replaced by pulsating accordions, stovetop ignition hi-hats, demonic chimes and burrowing space-age synths.  These inventive and odd beats make every song sound unsettling, furthering the notion that Clipse are illustrating, not celebrating, their lifestyle.

Hell Hath No Fury lets the listener decide whether or not money, cars and women are worth the consequences.  Both decisions can reasonably be made from listening, and that is what makes the album genius.


DOWNLOAD COLLEGE DROPOUT HERE:  http://www.mediafire.com/?incuymmmmkj
DOWNLOAD HELL HATH NO FURY HERE:  http://www.mediafire.com/?04e3nzy53tx