Three 6 Mafia
Last 2 Walk
Columbia Records
By Eavvon O'Neal
“I love having sex, but I’d rather get some head.” It’s the line that sells from the aptly titled “I’d Rather,” and will keep Three 6 Mafia in their record deal with Columbia. It’s the line that Pittsburgh DJ Girl Talk (aka Greg Gills) snatched and added to his "Here's the Thing" from this year’s Feed The Animals, and it’s the line that every teenager, club hopper, ironic hipster and midlife crises experiencing adult will cling to. Welcome to Last 2 Walk.
The idea behind this album is two fold, and it’s a little more sensitive than you may think – rappers can emo, too. Last 2 Walk could mean, the last to relinquish their hold on the game, as the swarm of SWAT enforcers on their album may suggest, but more likely, it’s about rappers who are ten albums deep into the southern rap industry and refuse to release their place in the public eye, for better or for worse.
Three 6 Mafia was once a bastion for southern hip-hop in its most inspiring and thugged out mentality. They taught us how to “Stay Fly,” and re-enforced the reality that “It’s Hard Out Here For A Pimp,” but this album is so difficult to conceptualize that it requires three paragraphs just to warm up to it’s review.
The beats are good and are an excellent example of why we began a love affair with Three 6 in the first place. DJ Paul & Juicy J present an excellent spread of instrumentation and use only the most vogue aspects of hip-hop sonics, allowing them to maneuver through various verbal intricacies.
“Weed, Blow, Pills” has a confused swagger that would shake the rims (or “one hubcap 'cause three got stolen”) from a hooptie or ghetto bucket, yet it still garners respect from listeners and contemporaries alike. Forged from the heat at the end of a honey-dipped blunt, the approach the Mafia takes with each song is for it to be the most ridiculous, all inclusive, ass-shaking tune possible, sales be damned. This falters at a eventually because after ten albums, how does one break free of their established niche, yet corral support from existing fans? It’s a curse of experience few in this short attention span society have fought past.
“Carol Of The Bells” peaks from behind a wall of rapid fire snares in “On Sum Chrome,” and the use of "Kernkraft 400" chants from “I Got” throw some humor in the mix and, at the least, provide some of the most unique samples to come from mainstream hip-hop this summer.
These pockets of ingenuity are refreshing to a point, but good samples do not make a good album. Even collaborations with Akon on the trumpet blaring “That’s Right” or Good Charlotte on the wannabe ballad “On My Way,” are good for publicity, but they don’t make this more accessible, just diluted, less concentrated Soundscan-pandering.
Fact is, if you sit by the window in your ‘hood of choice, you will most likely hear at least one single from this album because it is effective in making heads bob, and is produced by seasoned vets of one of the hardest industries to get ‘hood credit in. It has a good deal of risqué shock, ghetto insight and consistency. But will you remember the album in three to 6 years? Will it change how lil’ nappy-headed or tow-headed hip-hop brats approach their MPC’s? I’ll let you make that call.
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