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Album
Review
50 Cent - The Massacre Super Soph or Super Soft? by: Malik Sinsear, for Entertainment
You would think that an artist that sold 11-million records off the bat would just be satisfied putting out another record to get a few million sells off fumes alone, but not 50 Cent. I read a couple months ago that 50 actually scrapped almost all of the material from his latest CD, The Massacre, because it wasn’t worthy of following his last body of work. I’ve gotta say I was impressed by that. But my expectations rose even higher after hearing that. Almost as high as my anticipation to hear Piggy Bank, the supposed super-diss track aiming at 9/10ths of the prominent NYC emcee committee. With that, when I got my hands on The Massacre, I immediately skipped to track 5… Umm, okay, well maybe if I listen to it in the flow of the album, I’ll appreciate it more, so I go back to the beginning of the CD and just let it ride out, then I run it back. (I always play new releases back to back unless it's just that wack) Nope, Piggy Bank was still average. It was ok, but maybe I’ve just been spoiled by Hit ‘Em Up, Takeover and Ether. In all fairness, it would take an extraordinary effort to top those world canceling bombs. This clearly doesn’t. So, now, what's my impression of Curtis Jackson’s sophomore piece? Well, first off, it’s obvious he’s been listening to his mentor, Dr. Andre Young. The beats are top notch. A lot of people don’t care much for Disco Inferno a.k.a. On Fire’s lil brother, but I love it. The track is hypnotizing; vintage 50. Candy Shop is another story. It’s been called Magic Stick’s twin sister by some, but I think it’s more like Magic’s ugly immigrant maid. Every release except for GRODT that has been under Eminem’s umbrella has had corny Cotton Candy & Cracker Jack first singles, so I was willing to let this go. First singles can easily be constructed as smoke screens to distract record execs from what you’re really doing on the other 55 minutes of your CD. Well, that’s kind of the case here. Candy Shop is probably the worst song on the album, but not many other tracks on The Massacre raise the level of the overall release. Some of the songs kind of run into each other like bad (all) Asian drivers. 50 is, no doubt, the current emperor of the hip-hop hit chorus, but hearing it for an hour can turn your ears into tree sap. Didn’t he criticize Ja-Rule for singing too much just a minute ago? Don’t get me wrong, I would agree that 50 is a better MC than Ja, but I’m just asking if I can go ahead and give this the ironic stamp. Can I? Anyway, so yeah, the beats are good but 50 doesn’t give you enough depth, this time. He’s still trying to get by with charm and the surface of his talent. We’ve listened to that record and seen that bonus DVD already. I’m also a little bothered by the way he always mentions drinking and smoking when he says he never does either. Maybe it’s just me. Now, I’ll give Curtis credit, he tried on Baltimore Love Thing, but somewhere through the second verse, the song begins to feel like he’s just throwing a couple of metaphors here and there to get him to the goal, the chorus, where he again, sings. It’s a nice song and I’m glad he decided to experiment a little, but his former label mate on Columbia, Ali Vegas made this song five years ago. It was called Narcotics then and the content and execution was better. There’s no way I could finish this review without mentioning Gatman & Robin featuring Eminem. Wholy lord, that’s Fiya! You just want to put this on repeat and find a long road to fly down listening to it. Easily the best track on the disc. Hopefully, Em and 50 will turn this into a series ala EPMD (Jane) or Redman (Sooperman Lover). I’ll settle for a video though. In the end, The Massacre will probably do just that to the charts. With the beats, the chorus’ and easy to learn lyrics, 50 has the hit making formula down to a 5th period science. Had the lead single been stronger, I could easily see this record reaching GRODT numbers, but unless Gatman can pull something special from his utility belt, he may fizzle out at a cool 6 to 8 mil this time around. Rough growing pains for a sophomore, huh? That ain’t nothing, look at my rating.
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FIYA NBA Ranks: #9 |
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Remember your sophomore year in high school? I don’t know about you but I had fun, probably too much fun. I mean freshman year was aight, but being a sophomore you kinda got things down. You step right in knowing where your locker is, you’ve got your hallway stripes and you have one more full year ahead of you to goof off before its time to hit the books hard, if you’ve got college in mind. Yeah, I remember my sophomore year; I had shorties lined up throughout the building to freak on between classes. B-ball sessions during lunch and Madden for $15 a wop after school. Not a worry in the world. That’s what being a sophomore is all about, well, except if you’re in the rap game and you’re coming off a diamond album. Then you got pressure. Not junior year, final stab at the SAT’s, pressure, but now that I got rich, I’ma die trying to top that, pressure.