Rapper Travie McCoy is 6ft 5 inches tall and covered in tattoos. He is one part Irish to one part Native American and two parts Haitian. He used to go out with Katy Perry, and is godfather to Ashlee Simpson and Pete Wentz's child, Bronx. His relation to our great freckly nation aside, he's a pretty convincing hip hop lothario (discounting the fact he learned songwriting by listening to Phil Collins).
As front man of rap / rock band Gym Class Heroes, McCoy earned props in both communities with smash hit 'Cupid's Chokehold' and it's irresistable 'Ba ba da ba' hook, but now that it's time for the grinning giant to go it alone, he'd better make like every other rapper in the business and draft in a slew of his mates to help him out.
Indeed. Jason Mraz soundalike Bruno Mars takes the lead on debut solo single 'Billionaire', a beachy but annoying ode to unnecessary riches that went straight in at No. 4 on the Billboard charts and features lyrics like 'I wanna be on the cover of Forbes magazine/ smiling next to Oprah and the Queen (What up, Oprah?)' Ahem... Kicking off Lazarus, 'Dr. Feelgood' is a truly magnificent hip hop jingle with exactly the kind of soul kick you want to hear Cee Lo Green lending his vocals to. Elsewhere, 'Critical' is more akin to Maroon 5 than Gnarls Barkley, while 'Akidagain' is driven by a lively piano tune and glorious children's choir. A cameo by Florida rapper Young Cash (not his given name) lends a banging Outkast-esque chemistry to 'The Manual'. Sadly, it's all but ruined by vocoder overdoser T-Pain and his incessant robotic vocal flipping.
Later, 'We'll Be Alright' boasts a psychedelic groove: pity it's the groove Supergrass came up with in 1995 when they wrote 'Alright'. This is not the only instance where Mr. McCoy gets up to some rather scandalous pillaging (see hence "Never gonna give you up/ Never gonna knock you down").
All in all, Lazarus is inconsistent. A haphazard mix of drowsy Lil Wayne-brand rapping and all-out André 3000 speedtalking works wonderfully well for Travie. Then you're slapped in the face with something like blippy ballad 'Don't Pretend', which hits the spot until McCoy starts erm… crying… and sniffling lyrics like "Open up my chest and you'll see/ a cold cavity where my heart used to be."
Maybe I dropped the ball on spotting the Phil Collins' influences (unless he stole his lyrics too), but the tunes on Lazarus do bear genuine flashes of songwriting talent. There are countless moments where McCoy's lyrical tomfoolery pays off ("I ain't trying to wait on no change/ Like my name was John Mayer"). Still, there's a little too much tongue in this partial Paddy's cheek.