Busta Rhymes: Back On My B.S.

8th solo album? Damn, time flies fast. I vividly remember chilling in my basement getting my skull blown off its shoulders by the earthquaking impact of “Everything Remains Raw” like it was like, two days ago. If only Busta Rhymes remembered what that shit smelled like… First and foremost, there is certainly nothing “Blessed” about the album’s anemic single “Hustler’s Anthem.” And I can’t even blame T-Pain for it being the crappiest single of the year. Busta Rhymes has officially ran out of ideas. At this point in time, he’s the definition of style over substance, as his once-keen and conspiracy-theory-sharpened mind vegetates behind his superstar celebrity face, waiting to speak, but being drowned out by that boisterous dungeon dragon. After 2 years of delays, at least 3 album title changes, and a confusing marketing campaign (what’s the single for this album again? And why isn’t last year’s funky flare-up “Throw Da Water On ‘Em” not on here?), this mess is just flush-worthy. So many questions. So few satisfying answers.

What’s good about it? Well, I guess it’s nice to hear him say “Oh My God!” like it was ’94 again on “Wheel of Fortune” as its sprightly drum patterning and echo sparks the album with a mediocre bang. But DJ Scratch has better beats than this.

Let’s keep it moving as fast as possible, cause this past May 19th, at least 3 albums came out that are overwhelmingly more necessary than this obnoxious concoction. “Give Em What They Askin For?” Horrid chorus. Trite content. And using the Eurythmics’ “Sweet Dreams” for the cadence of the hook, then extrapolating it into some more irrelevant noise is just SMH. “Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Can See,” this is not. I honestly couldn’t even make it through the third verse. Why put shit like this on the album, and leave off hot shit like “Wack,” with its awesome KRS-One hook? Nobody with any sense knows.

And “Respect My Conglomerate” is the bronze medallion winner of this year’s “Swagger Like Us,” winning a place on the fail podium for the most underwhelming major collaboration of the season. Sure the beat is hot, provided by Aftermath producer Focus, but the verses are really nothing special, especially considering these guys should capitalize off the potential of this meeting of the minds, instead of resting on their stale laurels on rhyme auto-pilot. “I’m so fly I’m still at the terminal”? Not only is that a lazy ass metaphor, it doesn’t even make sense, Weezy. Take it back to the “Upgrade U” freestyle levels, plz k thx bai. Jadakiss holds down the third verse, but I don’t remember hearing any quotables in this verse. Meh. Stop making it so hard to respect your conglomerate, Trevor. I might respect it more if you didn’t throw Lord Have Mercy off the board of directors. Then “Shoot For The Moon” tries very hard to be a Kanye-like record, but it’s not, on any level, besides the spacey synths that slice through the soundscape. And another one bites the dust. How long is this album? Too long, already. Is there at least one dope song?!

Yes. Kill Dem‘s dutty, bumpy horny Neptunes fun is the best thing so far, cause Bussa Bus is finally making that reggae sickness he’s been holding back on for so long. He really needs to stop making these hollow rap albums and just fucking make an album of this kinda dancehall kingpin shit, already. He’s obviously lost all desire to come with Leaders of the New School level of T.I.M.E.-less brilliance. An’ Aiyyo bredren, di gyal yammering in the chorus neva’ need fi’ chat her fool fool fuckory pon di riddim so much, zeen? Cool.

Let me check something: I’m not hearing much (read: NONE) of the old Interscope-funded, Dr. Dre record. There’s not even one Dre beat. I see no J. Dilla in the producer credits like Bussa said there was gonna be. And even super-slept-on West Coast king Jellyroll is sadly wasted on a glossy, tasteless number called “Sugar.” Ugh. Why wasn’t this better? And how many times can I ask that question listening to an album?

Okay, here comes the sound of salvation. Slightly. The madman mathematics of DJ Scratch‘s “I’m A Go And Get My…” is weird, in a good way. God knows this album needs it. It’s laborious to wade through already. The cut-up sample in the hook is illogically catchy, but unfortunately Busta doesn’t link his lyrics to the numerology. He shoulda got Mos Def on the record with him to show him how to take the concept much further. You know your song is kinda hurting when a rambling Mike Epps outro is more compelling than your verses. And does anything date and degrade your album more than a corny Auto-tune chorus? If there is, I haven’t heard it yet. Also, someone in the new Flipmode Movement is trying waay too hard to sound like Young Jeezy. Rah Digga, where are you when we need you?!?

And then he just HAD to go and do it for two songs in a row. Don’t people know that putting Auto-tune on shit does NOT equal record or ringtone sales? And why doesn’t a song called “We Miss You” have any lyrics that have to do with anyone being gone? 2009 update of Ice Cube’s classic memorial ode “Dead Homies,” this is not.

I can’t find a single witty quotable to put in this review. Not one. The most telegraphed, typical, straight forward couplets are all I can hear him spitting, verse after verse. The flows are mostly patterns he’s done before, only less impressively. There’s nothing like E.L.E.’s electric energy, there’s nothing hype on some double-time illness like “Gimme Some Mo’,” and there’s nothing even close to the pyrotechnically colorful classic “Woo-hah!” It’s mostly the voice that remains, but the heart is all but invisible. And this comes from someone who contains no less than hundred Busta Rhymes verses in his brain, accumulated over the two decades I’ve been listening to him. Charlie Brown, Dinco D and Cut Monitor Milo don’t even want Busta to make music this underwhelming.

The only fully redeeming song on this album is “Decision,” with Jamie Foxx, Mary J. Blige, John Legend and Common. And that’s even the safest little inspirational song you’ve heard in years. It’s not unappealing, but it’s also not explosively uplifting. The piano lick feels taken directly from Common’s 1996 gem, “Retrospect for Life” with Lauryn Hill. But even that song softly killed the heart more than this paint-by-numbers wonder. It’s cool, but they’ve all done this before. It’s a prayer that’s just going through the motions.

And if you thought hipsterism didn’t coarse through Busta’s veins, wait til you hear the last song on the album. Fuck. People still rhyme “thug” and “club”? Once again, when the chorus is more appealing than your verses, you probably shouldn’t put it out. And really take it all back to the basics you began with. Like in 1989, with Chuck D and the Bomb Squad giving you direction on how to be fresh and true to your self with your hip hop. What’s it gonna be, Bus? Cause this is NOT going to work with ANY audience, on ANY level of hip hop in 2009.

Please my people: don’t be deceived by the title. Don’t call it a comeback. This is a whole new level, no, dimension, of bullshit for Busta Rhymes. He’s never been so empty of the magic that made us love him. I need to go play the “Kid Hood Scenario” remix now and cleanse my head. I feel covered in audio excrement.

55/100

“Kill Dem”

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“I’ma Go and Get My…”

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“Decision”

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