Yahoo! Music Album Review

Released on 27/11/06
Label: Geffen Records

For someone who appears to be off his head more or less all the time, Snoop Dogg certainly gets a lot done: "Tha Blue Carpet Treatment" is his eighth LP, not counting the stuff he's done with 213 and Tha Eastsidaz. He's also found time to direct porn movies, work as a pimp and (more wholesomely) coach a little-league American football team, while still managing to get arrested about as often as Pete Doherty. Even as you read this, Snoop's probably stuffing drugs and firearms into his glove compartment while a police officer walks slowly toward his car (this is, of course, pure speculation - Reviews Ed).

Solo album number eight - the title of which signals only an obsession with the colour blue - is not a record that initially endears itself to you. Its cover is festooned with images of Snoop sitting in farcically lavish surroundings while being tended to by scantily-clad women: one is wearing a French maid's outfit; another is actually wiping his mouth. It's a carnival of sexism and ostentation, and it reeks of a triumphalism that, approximately 15 years and 20m record sales into his career, Snoop really should be rising above.

The album also makes a transparent attempt to dazzle you with celebrity: notable guests include George Clinton, Nate Dogg, R. Kelly, Damian Marley, Kurupt, The Game, Akon, Ice Cube, Jamie Foxx, D'Angelo and (we kid you not) Stevie Wonder, while there are production credits for Dr Dre, The Neptunes and Timbaland. Yet having such safe hands at the controls naturally means "Tha Blue Carpet Treatment" is a very easy listen indeed, and continuity is ensured by Snoop's decision to keep a tight rein on proceedings: none of the myriad guests is allowed to steal the show. Mind you, they'd have their work cut out: Snoop's trademark drawl, simultaneously lazy and quick-fire, remains as distinctive and engaging as ever.

Likewise, Snoop remains a mess of contradictions. Just as his appearance suggests a rather more laidback character than his charge sheet, so Snoop's smooth vocal delivery often conceals repellent lyrical content, as demonstrated by this album's best track, The Neptunes-produced "Vato", on which Snoop both artfully and gleefully imagines shooting dead three guys who badmouth him in the street. Elsewhere, there's a numbing barrage of violent threats, wealth-related boasts and misogynist leering (check the lyrics of "A Bitch I Knew"; actually, don't).

Still, there's no denying that, with quality control somehow maintained over 21 tracks, "Tha Blue Carpet Treatment" is quite the mesmerising sonic experience. Equally, as with his erstwhile mentor Dr Dre, there's no denying either the unpleasantness lurking in Snoop's psyche or the depth of his talent. Like we say: a mess of contradictions…

    by Niall O'Keeffe