Album
Review
Jim Jones - Harlem: Diary
of A Summer
Capo Delivers Another Horrible Disc
by: Malik
Sinsear, for Entertainment
You
gotta give this Jim Jones credit; he’s quite possibly the
oldest and least talented rapper in the history of the genre that
has created the most buzz. Now granted that buzz is mostly made
up of Middle-America grown white boys in private schools, but
I understand you gotta get it, how you get it. Jones, who could
be first seen diddy-bopping in early Cam’Ron videos, has
credits on a couple compilations and one full release, which I
assume either keeps the hope alive or the knife closer to the
wrist of many an aspiring MC.
Harlem: Diary of a Summer or what I’ve dubbed it,
Capo the Clown’s Circus, vol. 2, is Jim Jones’
second full release. Now I know, it may seem like I’m a
Dipshit hater, but truth be told I kinda like their shit. Not
in a: I’m listening for jewels to be dropped way; and certainly
not in a: I’d pay for this under any circumstances way,
well unless it was a full release from Hell Rell. But I’d
be a liar if I said they weren’t entertaining and I guess
part of that credit goes to Jimmy as he is right on the frontline
of the Dipstick-slapstick.
Well, to put it short and sweet, maybe he needs to just make a
comedy album, because he can’t rap, which makes this “rap”
album totally ungood. Aside from that comedy and the beats, this
CD sucks. My Diary, which leads off this piece of elephant
shit features Denise Weeks. Let's see, this brawd can’t
sing and Jones can’t rap. They should hook up and go bowling.
On this terrible duet, Weeks, trying her best to sound like Yolanda
Adams renouncing her faith and being punished for it asks the
listener to “Take a Jimmy through my soul.”
Yes, I am serious; serious as that old Jew pimping Jimmy and Cam
to make his liquor money.
On J.I.M.M.Y. the engineers have that same inaudible
kid who was much more entertaining on Juelz’ single S.A.N.T.A.N.A.
Memo to the engineers: It’s not cute anymore, it’s
now Gary Coleman annoying, in fact. What It Is, its crap,
that’s what it is. In case you didn’t get that I was
referring to the name of god-awful track in italics. In between
Jimmy’s odes to sound like your worst Tupac impersonator,
he’s making love to his Hood Honey Dip with his
Dip sidekicks ('cept Cam...hmm). Don’t even start me on
the colossal implosion, What You Drinkin On? featuring
among other people Puffy. Good lord, as bad as Jones is, Puff
is worse. At least Jones’ adlibs are on. They ain’t
Jeezy-like or nothing, but Puff’s are worse than the horrific
ones he small-knife jabbed us with repeatedly on the Special
Delivery remix a few years ago.
This album is not good at all, but of all the places where you
think you’d find a glimmer of hope, it pops up from relatively
unknowns and 5th tier Dipsetters. Trey Songz somehow finds a way
to make you not want to kill yourself after hearing the billionth
recycling of the Isley Brothers In Between The Sheets
on Summer With Miami and some little smurf named Max
B absolutely steals the show from Jones twice with his lazy szzurpy
flow on Confront Ya Babe and G's Up. Speaking
of which, Ben Chavis needs to be kicked in the ass for standing
there co-signing this dipfoolery in that video. How you gonna
be a religious pillar of the black community surrounded by niggas
with “Stop Snitching” shirts singing
“G'z Up, Hoes Down?” I see why the NAACP canned
his ass. He looked like the lead character in Hollywood Shuffle
2005.
Enjoy your album white kids.
Fiyaball