Opening with a Bang III

It seems only fitting we put our sights on something early from Kanye's catalog to take our mind off this autotone album he's got brewing right now...

Kanye West- "We Don't Care" from the album The College Dropout (2004)

Kanye never goes long without giving the paparazzi and his detractors fresh ammunition. When he's not working the boards or dropping clunky, but clever lines on the mic, he's having expensive cooked food flown across the globe, posting whiney, 20,000-word, all-cap manifestos on his blog, or smashing the ever-loving shit out of someone's camera in an airport. That said, the man is remains an innovator in hip-hop production and quite the showman, both on wax and on stage. Those things have given him some free reign w/r/t his extra-curricular antics.

Ye isn't the most talented emcee, but he delivers his rhymes in such an unabashed fashion you can't help to issue a free pass or even dig what he's offering. With three solo LPs and hundreds of guest verses under his belt, there's a lot of Kanye to choose from. But the track that doubles as a Kanye primer is this opener from his debut album.

It's not West's best song. It's not even my favorite Kanye track. But if I had to pick one song to illustrate what Kanye's all about, not just as a rapper, but as a producer, it's this one. You could listen to this one track and know what The College Dropout is all about. It doesn't take a genius to decode the album title's meaning, but Ye's three verses here elaborate on the ideology behind achieving material fulfillment without the benefit of college courses.

The pictures West paints could fill the inner-city blight template were the lyrics not so witty and draped over celebratory horn and handclap-heavy beat. With a bit of tweaking, lyrics like "You trying to cut our lights out like we don't live here / Look at what's handed us /Fathers abandon us /When we get the hammers go and call the ambulance / Sometimes I feel no one in this world understands us" could easily get dropped into a song where making listeners upbeat and optimistic is the last thing the artist wants. As it is, West taps everyone on the shoulder to remind them of these all-too-real situations, but at the same time, assure you they're taking it in stride.

And then there's the wordplay. Kanye borders on the ridiculous at times in this category, but he effortlessly makes it across the tightrope walk between clever wordplay and Lil Wayne "how many drugs is he under the influence of right now" wordplay. Again, lines such as "The drug game bulimic it's hard to get weight / Some niggas money is homo it's hard to get straight" brings forth serious situations with a grin without mocking them.

Ye isn't going to be part of many serious "best emcee" discussions as we press on, but the guy knows how to entertain. His mastery on the production side of things is his real bread and butter, but tracks like "We Don't Care" show he's capable of at least hanging in the big boys' neighborhood.

Opening with a Bang: The Return

“Shakey Dog” (Ghostface Killah): I’ve long since conceded that Ghost is the most entertaining storyteller in the game today. Even if you disagree, it’s tough to argue that his narratives aren’t as exhaustive as trying to reel off in succession all of his aliases.

“Shakey Dog,” the opener to Tony Starks’ critically acclaimed 2006 effort Fishscale is about as good an example of this as anything in GFK’s catalog. Ghostface packs what could pass as an entire plot for a movie in less than four minutes. Ghost, perhaps aware that even his most loyal listeners might not be prepared for content-packed track, advises everyone to “buckle up one time” before he delves into the first verse.

Actually, the term “verse” isn’t applicable here, since Ghost shows just how insane he is by not even letting a hook into the mix to let him catch a quick breather. No, instead the master of the hood yarn unpacks a tale of a drug deal gone sour and its subsequent chase, packing in more lyrics than a lot of alleged emcees fight on their entire LP.

But where Ghost really flourishes is with his attention to detail. Gangsta rap fixtures such as robberies, killings, and pursuit of women get redundant rolling off the tongues of the unimaginative rapper. Ghost takes what could easily serve as a paint-by-number scenario and creates vivid imagery with lines like, “This is the spot, yo son, your burner cocked? / These fuckin' maricons on the couch watchin' Sanford and Son / Passin' they rum, fried plantains and rice / Big round onions on a T-bone steak, my stomach growling, yo I want some!”

Stuff like this is why Ghost is able to remain relevant, even as an aging player in a young man’s game.