When Wu-Tang Clan's Enter the Wu Tang: 36 Chambers dropped in 1993, Ghostface Killah had but one pseudonym and one style. As Wu-Tang's de-evolution took place over the next three albums, Ghostface's persona did just the opposite. By the time of Wu Tang's Iron Flag his style had become a signature of Wu Tang—alongside RZA's production. Albums by GZA, Method Man and others were less than exciting, but Ghostface's Supreme Clientele held as the best sophomore effort from a Wu member, and the next two albums were solid though choppy in their underlying talent.
The completion of his evolution seemed to materialize with his 2004 album Pretty Toney, a more fun and laid back tribute to a new alter ego. Where Supreme Clientele and the spotty Bulletproof Wallets failed, Ghostface's awareness of his continued potential never ceased. His propensity for solidifying RnB samples shined though he was marred by weak singles and bad collaborations with popular crossover artists. Still, both the casual and fanatical fan awaited the next coming of Supreme Clientele or at least a reasonable facsimile. His album's weaknesses grew on you, and you knew he could thrill you if all the pieces came together.
Yet, the answer wasn't so simple. The formulaic ideas wouldn't change unless the clientele did (pun intended). Collaborations began to come about—MF Doom, Pete Rock, Just Blaze, J-Dilla to name a few—and the mixtape versions of Fishscale songs surfaced. RZA's beats were noticeably absent. Ghostface's normal swagger was intensified. His style revolutionized as if he had been awaiting these producers his whole career.
Maybe he has. It's a theory that probably can't be proven aside from direct questioning, and one that may never be answered due to RZA's importance to Wu Tang's past dominance and present position in Hip-Hop history. Besides, this isn't to say that RZA has fallen off in any respect—personal opinion may differ on the subject—his importance remains. Instead of dwelling on the absence of the old RZA beats, Ghost empties his entire repertoire into Fishscale. The dominance and antagonism of Supreme Clientele flow through single "Back Like That," the playful idealism and memory based lyricism of Ironman lives on in "Whip Me with a Strap." The absolute frivolity and brash storytelling of all his work is a constant theme in an album without a single wasted line—the one problem with the last two albums.
The past, however, is the past. Where previous rappers with quick flows and braggartism try to rehash their shelf life, Ghostface inters his. His understanding of his flow and former playfulness comes with new impracticality—a crafty veteran like this should not be able to reformulate his image with just a few bars—as the opening track explodes into a warning: "Buckle up." A story of Paul Bunyan veracity ensues—a telling trait for the entire album. "Shakey Dog" unrelentingly unfolds the same way that Just Blaze's remarkably produced "Champion" proves Ghost still has everything we want in an emcee: tell stories, prove your point. You're the best? Show us.
He does. He shows us. What we waited for, what we've clamored for from Ghostface (and Wu-Tang in general) is the same dominance that the early nineties produced. Not since Only Built 4 Cuban Linx have we come this close. With time, it could grow on me enough to be the closest. |