DJ Khaled - Victory

Isn't an album released by a DJ one of hip-hop's biggest paradoxes? The rap DJ's typical contribution to projects is to talk all over tracks about how great they are, leaving the music to be made by others. The "albums" are anything but. Rather, they're traditionally mixtapes loaded with disposable tracks not good enough to go on proper albums. Then some showboating, name-dropping DJ throws his name on the credits and acts like he did something more than call up buddies for leftovers. Most egregious is when a DJ gets self-righteous on the people and tries to bear the burden of the rap game, like they're going to single-handedly fix whatever ailments hip-hop may have.

Throughout DJ Khaled's reprehensible, soul-crushing Victory he talks ad naseum about the hustle of life and what it takes to get to the top of the mountain. The question that immediately comes to mind is, "victory over what?" Is this bottle service for being named Def Jam South's President? It's safe to assume that Khaled and Co. have defeated something, but I can't figure it out. My best guess is good taste.

The affair kicks off with a spoken word intro wherein Khaled talks non-sense about being some sort of hip-hop savior, man of the people, historian of life and of the game. He rattles off a list of what victory means to him: a struggle, survival, journey of life, accomplishment. The irony of it all is that the album basically gathers everything that's bad about rap (cronyism, conflicting philosophies, Plies)  and glamorizes it. Oh yeah, Diddy and Busta Rhymes stand in the background, spouting off quotes and thoughts in the vein of their classic '97 track, "Victory." It's abashedly generic and trite in the most insulting way. This moment tells you everything that you need to know about the album within its first two-and-a-half minutes. Then the guests line up around the recording booth.

The biggest offender has to be Rum's "Bringing Real Rap Back." He rails against ringtone rappers, bling rappers, and other fraudulent MCs, but doesn't offer one other thought. Good for Rum. He doesn't like "fakers," just like everybody else in the world. He uses his bars to drop insults repeatedly. Like a wild boxer, he throws too many punches and lands too few. The righteous recall is juxtaposed against tracks featuring Soulja Boy, Birdman, Jim Jones, and Nelly.

There are exactly two tracks on Victory that are worth the time it takes to listen to them. Nas and John Legend's pairing on the title track is standard fire. Nas is at his street-wise, street-poet best, while Legend's work on the chorus is a perfect compliment. The other great joint we heard in October: "Fed Up," a superstar posse track with Usher, Rick Ross, Young Jeezy, Drake, and Lil Wayne. The song has such a fun vibe to it that not even Rick Ross can gum up the works. These two songs feel like the artists working on them actually had something to say.

As a stand alone work Victory is bad, almost unrelentingly bad. That is to say, it's par for the course for a DJ Khaled joint. It features exactly two worthwhile tracks and a plethora of chest-thumbing from hacks that hip-hop fans can't stand. This makes me long of the days of Clue's "Professional" series and Funkmaster Flex's "60 Minutes of Funk." At least those guys could consistently get A-list roosters for their glorified, major label mixtapes.

- Eddie Strait