Koch
2.5 out of 5
2.5 out of 5
I'll pass down the following, performance-based album marks:
Royce Da 5'9'': B-
The most accomplished, best rapper of the group comes strong, but also hollow with his simile game. (You'll die hard like Bruce Willis? Goodness.) He also spits "pray to your lyrical lord" with a straight face.
Crooked I: B+
Hungry verses and acrobatic delivery, provides the first rewind-ready, ohhh snap 16 three songs into the album on the Alchemist-produced, "Microphone." Like pot shots at new school emcees in skinny jeans. Especially "you rappers lookin' like you finna sing 'Billie Jean.'"
However, Mr. I embellishes in the whole, "I'll rape you, shoot you, fuck your ass up....verbally" narrative device and it's played.
Joell Ortiz: C-
Some rapid fire flow and lots of anger, but nothing special. Also, I don't care for his voice. Lispy. Mushy. Tries too hard to be hard.
Joe Budden: B
Paranoia, bars, creative direction. Fuses own beefs and perils with group's and repeatedly manifests said issues into album's agenda, M.O. Most ambitious member of crew and he admittedly has cojones: no matter how much he plays down the Jay-Z contempt nowadays, you cannot drop lines as literal as "there's too many blueprints" and not raise eyebrows.
It's a given super groups fail; it's understood the Slaughterhouse rappers' pent up alpha aggression would result in tongue-lashings and dark imagery; that the production would be mostly minimalist and mood-driven and with those throwback piano loops; that each song would be near the five-minute mark to accommodate four stuffy verses.
Ultimately, hip-hop heads were hoping for a beatdown of rhymes aimed at corny talent and evil labels; a flagship moment in the year of the middle-aged rapper where we rejoice at the return of the menacing posse cut.
And long story short, this album starts off kinda tight, gets really shitty, redeems itself at the end with some bromance-induced industry introspection.
Reportedly recorded in six days, the best Slaughterhouse moments occur when we feel the tongue-in-cheek playfulness, camaraderie and fun our boys are feeding on: "Onslaught 2" annihilates its mixtape predecessor, "Sound Off" is a boastful, hilarious intro that knocks, "Cut You Loose" is honest and believable, "In the Mind of Madness" is an advanced, smart skit.
A spiraling sound collage of Budden snippets, it contrasts the rapper's brain on and off his meds and I haven't heard a skit this good since Busta Rhymes' heyday. Problem is, the other two skits are self-congratulatory voicemails. Again, played devices.
Slaughterhouse proves itself an unbearable pissing contest between circumstantial folk heroes. If "Pump it Up" had led to more hits, I doubt this project ever occurs because Budden is too busy relishing in his role as a blissful cog in the marketing machine he loves to protest.
Or maybe I'm wrong. Whatever. Blueprint 3's leaks have been downers, maybe Slaughterhouse will get the last laugh.
- Ramon Ramirez
Royce Da 5'9'': B-
The most accomplished, best rapper of the group comes strong, but also hollow with his simile game. (You'll die hard like Bruce Willis? Goodness.) He also spits "pray to your lyrical lord" with a straight face.
Crooked I: B+
Hungry verses and acrobatic delivery, provides the first rewind-ready, ohhh snap 16 three songs into the album on the Alchemist-produced, "Microphone." Like pot shots at new school emcees in skinny jeans. Especially "you rappers lookin' like you finna sing 'Billie Jean.'"
However, Mr. I embellishes in the whole, "I'll rape you, shoot you, fuck your ass up....verbally" narrative device and it's played.
Joell Ortiz: C-
Some rapid fire flow and lots of anger, but nothing special. Also, I don't care for his voice. Lispy. Mushy. Tries too hard to be hard.
Joe Budden: B
Paranoia, bars, creative direction. Fuses own beefs and perils with group's and repeatedly manifests said issues into album's agenda, M.O. Most ambitious member of crew and he admittedly has cojones: no matter how much he plays down the Jay-Z contempt nowadays, you cannot drop lines as literal as "there's too many blueprints" and not raise eyebrows.
It's a given super groups fail; it's understood the Slaughterhouse rappers' pent up alpha aggression would result in tongue-lashings and dark imagery; that the production would be mostly minimalist and mood-driven and with those throwback piano loops; that each song would be near the five-minute mark to accommodate four stuffy verses.
Ultimately, hip-hop heads were hoping for a beatdown of rhymes aimed at corny talent and evil labels; a flagship moment in the year of the middle-aged rapper where we rejoice at the return of the menacing posse cut.
And long story short, this album starts off kinda tight, gets really shitty, redeems itself at the end with some bromance-induced industry introspection.
Reportedly recorded in six days, the best Slaughterhouse moments occur when we feel the tongue-in-cheek playfulness, camaraderie and fun our boys are feeding on: "Onslaught 2" annihilates its mixtape predecessor, "Sound Off" is a boastful, hilarious intro that knocks, "Cut You Loose" is honest and believable, "In the Mind of Madness" is an advanced, smart skit.
A spiraling sound collage of Budden snippets, it contrasts the rapper's brain on and off his meds and I haven't heard a skit this good since Busta Rhymes' heyday. Problem is, the other two skits are self-congratulatory voicemails. Again, played devices.
Slaughterhouse proves itself an unbearable pissing contest between circumstantial folk heroes. If "Pump it Up" had led to more hits, I doubt this project ever occurs because Budden is too busy relishing in his role as a blissful cog in the marketing machine he loves to protest.
Or maybe I'm wrong. Whatever. Blueprint 3's leaks have been downers, maybe Slaughterhouse will get the last laugh.
- Ramon Ramirez
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