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Album Review: Mash Out Posse MOP's attempt at rap-rock fusion bangs -- until it gets boring. The marriage of Hip-Hop and Rock has traditionally resulted in dullard offspring. With notable exceptions such as Rick Rubin’s catalogue and the work of Rage Against the Machine, the worst traits of each respective gene pool have usually bubbled surfaceward to birth a brood clumsy, droning and dimwitted. From Limp Bizkit to Kid Rock to Body Count, the problem is obvious – rockers can’t rap and rappers can’t rock. As rock aficionados have long denigrated Hip-Hop as the unmusical realm of talent-free jesters, it’s ironic that every foray into the genre by a mountain climber with an electric guitar has been distinctively putrid. After weathering indignities such as “Rap sucks” t-shirts, “no Rap music” radio station ads, Jack White’s backbites ‘n’ wack slights and seminal critic Lester Bangs’ description of the music as “nothing or not enough”, Hip-Hop was forced to watch a batch of white rocker dudes reap commercial success by kicking nursery lyrics and quasi-Beastie rhyme schemes. Even Linkin Park’s Mike Shinoda – arguably the most respectable of the bunch – would get torched by, say, Pop the Brown Hornet of GP Wu fame. But Rock lyricism isn’t about multiple syllable rhymes and double-time deliveries anyway; it’s supposed to drip with melody, nuance, poeticism and other shit like that. Whatever the case, the transition between writing rock lyrics and quality rap lyrics would be a something of a challenge for Bob Dylan, let alone for the chuckleheaded lames who pay for leased muscle cars by running the legacy of “Walk This Way” into the ground. But experimental Rap dudes ain’t innocent either. Al Ghraib prisoners would have begged for witch costumes and Lynndie Leash had the guards popped Canibus’s “Rip Rock” in the CD changer for a few rotations. At it’s most elementary level, Hip-Hop is an artform that originated from the static repetition of looped breaks -- and rappers’ attempts at getting busy with the longhairs have seldom let the aesthetic perish. Rock music changes tempos and dynamics frequently, and these music devices allow for plenty of aural diversity between verses, hooks and bridges. Even after almost three decades of development, Hip-Hop producers are content to throw in an extra synth or high-hat during the chorus and bellow that they’ve changed the game. If any legitimate Hip-Hop act is going to successfully bridge the gap between cognac blunt raps and crystal meth, MOP is the safest prediction. They’ve done rockish shit before – think “Handle Ur Bizness” remix – and they relish growling and screaming like a pair of Brownsville banshees. So they took a crack at it. Mash Out Posse, an MOP album released not on Roc-a-fella but Koch, combines a cappella versions of recently released songs with traditional hard rock music. It’s as granite as a rule as exists: any self-respecting Hip-Hop head must declare MOP one of their favorite groups. But let’s be completely honest about MOP. Shove aside those fears of bullets whistling bijou like Louisiana, man. Be frank. They get boring after fifteen minutes. That quarter-hour of reckless frenetic energy is fantastic and all, but they never do anything except shriek about how they should not be fucked with over hard beats. They’re not bad rappers – Fizzy Womack is actually skillful -- but MOP makes Sheek Looch look multi-dimensional. Play a random 5 songs from their discography and you’ll love them all. Play a random 15 songs from their discography and you’ll leave. Their consistency is also their Achilles heel; MOP is a delicacy served best in moderation. Mash Out Posse, a combination of bellowed threats and an endless cascade of arena rock guitars and thumping drums, is relentlessly monotonous. The production method seemed to be the following: a band played some generic hard rock riffs and producers chopped it up to loop beneath MOP vocals. Absolutely everything hits hard. Everything. “Stand Clear”, “Calm Down”, “Conquerors” – pick a song and it bangs. But the production never strays from generic power metal. It’s inexcusable that the album is without a single song that breezes sweet and melodic for the verses and then crashes in with a violent tempest of a hook. MOP is only interested in slam dancing from the intro to the outro -- they never let the crowd raise their lighters in the air and sway back and forth, resting for the explosion of the hook or bridge. There’s no reason that MOP couldn’t make a great rap-rock fusion album, this just isn’t it. Mash Out Posse should be listened to in short bursts. Read more articles in Arts » |
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