Snoop Dogg Paid Tha Cost To Be Da Boss LP After catching the ear of hiphop heads worldwide lacing tracks by Dr Dre with his distinctive drawl and fresh weed-fuelled slang, Calvin Broadus’s solo debut Doggystyle was the most anticipated rap album by that point in rap history. In the process of becoming the biggest celebrity so far in rap history however, Snoop achieved the far less coveted title of rap’s first one-album wonder. With so much praise and hype invested in this once promising rapper, journos have been desperate to declare each evermore worse album from the artist formerly known as Snoop Doggy Dogg a brilliant comeback but trust, this isn’t it. Taking and misspelling its title from an oft sampled James Brown hit, Snoop’s sixth solo LP gets under way with two increasingly pointless intro tracks where the neck-snappingest G-funk synth instrumental in ages is wasted on Snoop saying “capone, the boss would like to see you, Soprano, the boss would like to see you”- and it’s all downhill from then on. The album’s first real track is stop light, an unimaginative track jacking and then pitch-shifting the first two bars from Parliament’s flashlight over which Snoop drops pathetic rhyme-driven pap - and that’s as good as it gets. What follows is an dozen tracks where several producers ransack Parliament’s most sampled hits over which Snoop and his equally phlegmatic guests offer an unappealing medley of played-out Gangsta posturing and adlibs from P-funk records. Even if the reports are true that Snoop has given up weed and booze, this inane album has not benefited from Snoop’s sobriety. Often, when Snoop returns for a verse after a chorus or one of the many cameos, he can’t even remember whether he’s sober or not let alone a track’s supposed topic. The lazy exploitation of hit records continues with The ‘70s cheesiness of the Dramatics-powered karaoke rap ballin. Snoop must be high when he boasts “it’s like an art the way I articulate” because this is all embarrassing goldfish memory doggerel. Clinging to the most obvious rhymes does inadvertently throw up some vivid images – the best being during Hourglass where the order is issued that girls dance like headless chickens so they can touch their clits – that’s a sick image but I’m sure Sarah Lucas has something to say about that.. The more babyish rhyme-driven nonsense he spouts, The larger the contradictions and doublespeak snowball. Despite appearing at all those pious rap summits and in spite of his recent claims to be a reformed character, Snoop still insists that he reps the streets better than anybody else. The best example of this is the Neptunes-produced lead single From Tha Chuuuch To Da Palace where an exciting track is wasted on the reiteration of Snoop’s doubtful Crip allegiance. The dark and aggressive synth-riff is the closest he gets to his original sound and yet the best Snoop can muster is “I do it for the Gs, I do it for the hustlers, here to annihilate you markass busters!” As disappointing as it is, this cut remains noteworthy because it is the first rap I’ve heard where the track ends with an introduction and where the final words of Don Magic Juan are “no introduction needed.” And just when he thinks he has presented a convincing image of a hard-hearted gangsta, it’s time for the token conscious song I Believe In You. This is an insipid R&B cut featuring the spiritless singing of LaToya Williams and snoop using a flimsy string of mawkish clichés to thank his woman for saving him from his nefarious life on the streets. Still, as sure as flop follows flip, proceedings soon get back to feeble lyrics about pimping punctuated by a parade of experts in the field vouching for Snoop’s credentials. Now, not only does he often contradict himself but he also repeatedly contradicts the wisdom of his pals. For example, one of his pimp buddies advises the listener to let hoez do whatever they want as long as they make that money, but then the next track Wasn't Your Fault has Snoop schooling somebody via nursery rhyme couplets about how you’ve got to treat ‘em mean to keep them making money. I’m not sure whether Snoop’s fascination with whore-mungering is born from a genuine desire to subjugate women or if it has more to do with all the easy rhymes associated with words like “pimp, ho, hoez, bitch” - Either way, these tracks are not only distasteful, but the music is facile and the lyrics are wack. Snoop has become a pitiable self-parody and all these clumsy contradictory attempts to portray himself as some sort of cuddly pimped-out mafioso streetcorner hustler make for a character more mixed up than the ill-fated rastafarian b-boy surfing ninja rock guitarist dog Pooch created to reinvigorate the flagging itchy & scratchy franchise in the world of The Simpsons. Nevertheless, Snoop clings to his unconvincing delusions to the bitter end. By this point, the album already has a dozen too many juvenile platitudes about being real over jacked Parliament records but Snoop uses pimp slap to give Suge Knight more free publicity and to diss his former Dogg Pound buddy Kurupt with some limp insults and a message on his answering machine. After many scapegoated the producers for the poor quality of his previous albums, outfits like Beats by the Pound, DJ Pooh and Daz have not been recalled and unknown beatsmiths are kept in the minority because this is time to wheel out some big tguns to revive his career. Enlisting the elite Team of top profile producers like Just Blaze, Hi Tek, The Neptunes, Dr Dre and DJ Premier in the hope they will make this a good album is like hoping a new lick of paint will help a car with no engine to win a grand prix. The ubiquitous quality production outfit and not so quality pop group The Neptunes contribute two tracks, the second of which is Beautiful. Here the trademark neptunes raw funk sound with live percussion and nasty sounding guitar strums sandwiching a single falsetto caterwaul serves as the garish backdrop to Snoop expressing his affection for (or is that ownership of) a woman saying how he’s prepared to “smack a nigga who tries to pursue it” (NB: not you or she but it). The ass-shakinest Just Blaze produced Lollipop is an entertaining flute-driven piece of disco tackiness but this somehow fails to spark anything from contributing emcees Nate Dogg, Soopafly and Jay-Z beyond rhyming “fuck” with “fuck.” Those are instances where the potential for great tracks are never realised but there are also tracks where these high ranking beatmakers come up shorter than their aimless frontman. Indeed, The album’s two worst beats are the Hi-Tek-produced, Curtis Mayfield jacking ode to lost loves I Miss That Bitch and a track sporting the unapt title The One And Only where, having already worked with such lyrical giants as Charli Baltimore, Foxy Brown and Lil Dap, DJ Premier scrapes the bottom of his throw-away beat barrel for Snoop. In addition to all those celebrity pimps and the rabble of gangsta rap nomarks like Lil' Half Dead Mr. Kane and Goldie Loc who tend to bulk out Snoop albums, “The Boss” has hired some top profile guests to make him look good. Lazy guest spots from Warren G and Redman and the now passé singing of Nate Dog over yet more parliament cliches succeed only to give this project the feel of a disastrous tribute show to a faded has been. It becomes evermore difficult to believe that the star of this album was the same guy who Co-ghostwrote the grammy award winning Aint nuthin but a G thang with RBX. The cousins are reunited alongside Lady of Rage to Do more embarrassing rhyme-driven damage to your ears in the cape crusader’s name. Beyond the fact that Rage’s real first name is Robin, there is no plausible justification for this Kartoon Krew-lyte travesty. Initially, the track has comedy value and then it turns out that it was produced by DJ Premier – well since the track involves little more than playing the 1960s batman theme at a different speed, it rivals The Rza’s playing out of the entire Isaac Hays walk on by instrumental for lamest piece of production. Snoop stumbles onto something resembling wordplay during this track with the line “Marvel at you super heroes” but Batman is a creation of DC. No matter what is done to make this listenable, this project emits the same stench of cynicism and desperation of charity telethons and variety show comeback specials. Snoop Always pads his albums out with at least one cover-version and the record reaches it’s peak/pit with Papered Up.; a needless remake of the cold-cut remix of Eric B & Rakim’s Paid in full. Unlike his remake of Ladi dadi, Snoop doesn’t even have the balls to acknowledge the original. So even with the most high profile producers and guest emcees to prop him up, nothing can save this from turning out like a christmas cracker with it’s bang, joke and toy removed. - Sumo Kaplunk | profile © CD Goldie/ukhh.com 1999 - 2003