Visiting the UK with label boss Damon Dash last year, perpetual Roc-A-Fella underachiever, Memphis Bleek, unveiled a track that bounced so hard all his previous shortcomings were instantly forgotten. So hypnotically fine was the Just Blaze-produced "Yes" (which featured token grunts from Bleek's mentor Jay-Z) that it appeared possible the rapper was finally ready to fulfil his potential.
Apologies then, to anyone that we mislead as our better judgement fell victim to a blind love for what appears to have been nothing more than that occasional Hip-Hop phenomenon, a 12" greater than the sum of its parts. Because there are mercilessly few 'moments' in evidence on "524", an album that is essentially another frustrating sidestep for the man always touted as Jay-Z's natural heir.
Now four albums into his career, Bleek grew up with Jay-Z at the endlessly mythologised Marcy Projects in Brooklyn, a geography only rivalled by New York's Queensbridge Projects in Hip-Hop folklore. (The album's title refers to the block number at Marcy where the pair were raised.) Despite that fact, his albums have been frustrating affairs seemingly moulded by the concerns of Roc-A-Fella shareholders too shortsighted to see the benefits of cutting the rapper free to develop his own voice.
Again it's Bleek's willingness to mould his album to commercial imperatives that lets "524" down. The opener aims to photostat Jay-Z's rabble-rousing intro tracks like "The Ruler's Back" as Swizz Beats conducts a lurid synthesiser symphony. "Infatuated" is a lame "one for the laydees", as is "The One", complete with singsong female vocal chorus.
There are exceptions, the MOP-featuring "First, Last And Only" finds the Brooklyn troublemakers on predictably firing form. Jay-Z adds a touch of class with a gentle folk sampling ode to "Dear Summer" and Bleek pulls a few tricks out himself, over a paced old-school breakbeat on "Get Low" and the finest Just Blaze track never produced by Just Blaze, "Oh Baby". 9th Wonder offers a few effortless beats on which Bleek sounds like he's finally finding his voice, the Billy Paul-looping "Smoke The Pain Away" and "Alright", arguably good enough to be a potential "Black Album" outtake.
Sadly though, none of this is enough to rescue "524" from mediocrity. Like Jay-Z's own, far superior but similarly misfiring "Blueprint 2", this is a record that aims to be all things to all men and without his mentors unmistakeable voice, Bleek fails to emerge from the morass.
