When I was on the phone with Ludacris – yeah, that’s right – I couldn’t wait for the new album to come out, since hearing the single “Stand Up” in heavy rotation.
But listening to the rest of Luda’s new work has been somewhat of a letdown, nowhere near the odd, creative genius and lyric experimentation the single is drenched in.
Birthed out of life experience and hip-hop training deep in the Dirty South, Ludacris’ third major release, “Chicken and Beer,” shows the rapper – known for his vibrant, outlandish personality and the hairstyles and videos to match – trying to navigate the notoriously difficult, pitfall-ridden hip-hop industry.
Now, the question for Ludacris is whether he can do what Dre did.
He has started down that path already, by branching out into film and most recently by making the transition from MC to executive producer and collaborating with fellow artists Tity Boi and I-20 who are up and comers from his Disturbing Tha Peace conglomerate.
“As time goes on, I feel I’m getting more and more creative control,” he said when asked about the bizarre new video put out along with “Stand Up.”
Even in peripheral aspects, Ludacris is having a hand in the varied process of artistic production.
“I mean, you kind of have to change with the times,” he said. “Some people hate that hip-hop changes. They want it to stay a certain way. But I love the fact that it changes.”
Ludacris has, indeed, changed by having more input into various products that form his unusual persona and by using innovative references and rhyme schemes to illuminate tracks. Those rhyme schemes can be found in places on the new album, but they are rare and too often spit over beats that don’t live up to the kind of laughter-inducing, party starting a Ludacris verse is capable of. Much of the new album seems too conventional and out-dated to fit a rapper making videos with silver-colored midgets on platinum chains.
The album falls too far into patterns that were birthed with “The Chronic” – an album intro and several comedic skits, interspersed with tracks that range in quality from the invigorating stream of battle rhymes, “Hip Hop Quotables,” to the lifeless, space-filling “Teamwork.”
Most is too outdated also for a rapper who preaches repeatedly about longevity in the music business. The inconsistency of the album shows what can happen when a self-proclaimed, “self-motivated” and eager hip-hop star does too much, too quickly and tries to carry too many friends along with him.
The next question is whether he can keep up his infamous intensity – whether he can bounce back from a lackluster album and regain the fury of old.
