The Black Album

If this album really does mark the fading to black of one of hip-hop’s true heavyweights then at least we can take some consolation in the fact that the self-styled ‘Michael Jordan of rap’ has gone out at the top of his game.
Jay-Z has justifiably been able to lay claim to one of hip-hop’s classiest blueprints since he burst out of Brooklyn with his dazzling flows nine albums ago, and it’s hard to blame a man who feels he’s said all he needs to say and has Beyoncé Knowles as his better half for resting on his laurels. The lucky bastard.
But of course he wasn’t going anywhere until he had fully reminded us of his legacy, and The Black Album wastes no time in telling us once more how far he’s come and reinforcing how far ahead of the pack he is.
The supremely cheesy opener enlists his mum (bless) to describe his difficult childhood, while ‘What More Can I Say’ asks with a kind of sneering frustration “Let’s see what happens when I no longer exist”.
Lyrically he’s on top form, and unsurprisingly we get some seriously heavyweight producers to fight it out for the best beat category. Of these, the ubiquitous Neptunes lose out, with their single-groomed ‘Change Clothes’ sticking out like a bit of a sore thumb.
Indeed it’s after this that the album ups a gear, with Timbaland dropping in to craft the backdrop for the menacingly ace ‘Dirt Off Your Shoulder’, as the Jigga starts dishing out the disses to those who would dare fuck with him (“I’ll kill you, commit suicide and kill you again”), while Just Blaze also plays a blinder on the class ‘Public Service Announcement’.
Elsewhere there’s the raucous Rick Rubin produced ’99 Problems’, featuring the lines “If you’re havin’ girl problems I feel bad for you son/I got 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one”, while Eminem steps behind the controls on the brooding ‘Moment of Clarity’.
After convincing us that this is it and laying down the challenge to those who would seek to emulate him, it’s only at the end that Jay-Z relaxes, telling us he’s off to play golf and sip cappuccinos “somewhere nice where there’s no mosquitoes at”. He’s earned it – but something tells me we haven’t heard the end of this particular hustler just yet.