Prophets of Age

J. Edward Keyes on Shuffle

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Published: Jan 23, 2008

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Hip-hop is already well into its 30th year of existence. Still, the sad fact remains that hip-hop, unlike rock before it, has been unable to establish anywhere within its many corridors a significant oldies market. While moldering gray-hairs like Sting and Phil Collins and Jimmy Page can still muster enough support from real rock campaigners to launch staggeringly successful world tours, their hip-hop equivalents — let's say Rakim and Run-DMC and Big Daddy Kane — are mostly relegated to small clubs populated by headstrong nostalgists. Add to that persistent indifference the fact that the passage of time tends to thicken the tongue and slow the wits, and it's not too surprising that no one, this writer included, was paying much attention when Public Enemy released their 11th album this past August.

To be fair, Public Enemy hasn't exactly held up their end of the bargain. Now 21 years into their career, the group has released enough successive duds to have considerably violated whatever trust they'd accrued. It doesn't help matters that Flava Flav, onetime Mad Hatter and fire-stoker, has been defanged and transformed by back-slapping network VPs into a grotesque caricature. But the Chuck D that barrels his way through "Harder Than You Think" sounds only weeks removed from the one who brought the noise two decades ago. Restricted by bullheaded legislation from returning to the thicket of sampling that made Fear of a Black Planet such a rush, the group has instead set up house inside the welcoming borders of soul (they allude to the move in the album's wordy title). Humid horn charts and walloping backbeats provide a stark backdrop for the Chuck D's passionate sermonizing. And it's not just Chuck and Flav who sound renewed — "Sex, Drugs & Violence" houses the greatest KRS-One verse in years. There's also a healthy bit of humor: Chuck takes stock of the group's history, year by year, on a track titled "The Long and Whining Road." While there are more than a few lazy rhymes and lackluster compositions ("Frankenstar" should have been bulk-erased before leaving the studio), Soul fairly crackles with determination and conviction. It may not be great, but it's certainly good enough.

(j_keyes@citypaper.net)

 

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