21 March 2008
tell your friends...
Words b Todd Olmstead // Illustration by Sean Duggan
At the opening of 8 Diagrams, it’s clear that no matter how you feel about the content of the new disc, the Wu is back. Straight up. Opener “Campfire” kicks in with an old-school kung fu sample just like vintage Wu-Tang Clan. After all, it wouldn’t be right without tying in that nostalgic aesthetic, the arty, almost nerdy juxtaposition of the campy with the cold, hard bleakness of the streets. But unlike the punch-you-in-your-face style of the group’s older shit, the introduction reflects the new worldly RZA style. A teacher speaks to us not of fighting style, but how to “lead a good life” through justice, kindness, faith, and honesty. Don’t be mistaken — 8 Diagrams is no after school special. However, the cutthroat themes of early works like Wu-Tang Clan Ain’t Nuthing Ta F’ Wit are subdued to some extent. This change in philosophy led Ghostface and Raekwon to publicly question the direction of the RZA, the mastermind behind the entirety of the Wu catalogue. You can’t blame them for expecting the Clan’s first album in four years to behave like earlier material, but you have to wonder what they were thinking in calling out their own man when it would have been beneficial to them to be promoting the album rather than dissing it. Drama has always been part of the Wu-Tang equation, which ought to be expected when you combine nine volatile MCs and expect them to coexist. Fortunately, Raekwon finds himself all over the new record, and while Ghostface only raps on three tracks, the other, less high profile MCs do everything they can to compensate for his absence.
Method Man enters a little more than one minute into the first track, “Campfire,” and serves a dual purpose –- his entrance is exhilarating and announces not only his most impressive rapping since his 1994 debut Tical, but also that this is a Wu classic. And while there’s little functionally wrong with the majority of the 14 tracks on the record, there is a flaw in this line of thinking: there’s far less unity on this record, and while it’s easy to recognize Meth’s return to form or an unusually strong U-God showing, there’s little that qualifies as a unified Wu banger. It would have been unreasonable to expect them to make another “Triumph,” but there isn’t a whole lot that features more than three of the members. To paraphrase from earlier Wu work, there’s not a whole lot of forming like Voltron here, but rather eight vigilantes each attacking the beat with their own solo methods. The level of inspiration varies from track-to-track, and all the Wu disciples are not always on the same page. But that’s like saying that the Patriots aren’t on the same page –- they have a multitude of ways to get it done, and when Randy Moss has an off-day, there’s someone else to pick up the slack. Such it is with the Wu.
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