Never let it be said they're predictable. When the vast, capricious and frequently magnificent Wu-Tang Clan released 'The W' one year ago, they claimed a follow-up would be imminent. Given their freestyle approach to deadlines in the past, the likelihood of 'Wu-Tang Iron Flag' appearing before, say, 2004 seemed slim at best. And when the excellent 'The W' was followed up by the likes of the RZA's largely useless 'Digital Bullet', you'd be forgiven for thinking the Wu had slumped back on cruise control again.
How wrong can you get? It's hard to say what has stimulated the charged, passionate and thoroughly entertaining 'Wu-Tang Iron Flag', though they do seem terribly enamoured - or at least inspired - by the war. On the cover, they're dressed as GIs, recreating the Iwo Jima shot and hoisting their own pennant. During the superbly fierce 'Rules', meanwhile, the reliably mad Ghostface Killah threatens to shoot down planes that fly over Staten Island before declaring, "Mr Bush sit down, we're in charge of the war."
If only. It's significant, then, that this is the first full crew album the Wu have recorded in New York since their debut. Much here shows these matchlessly imaginative rappers at their proudest and most fluent: as they queue up to rhyme on the utterly fantastic 'Uzi (Pinky Ring)', it's clear that there have been few more exciting sounds in modern music than the whole family in full flight.
Not quite the whole family, of course. Ol' Dirty Bastard remains incarcerated (though allegedly there's a new album from him due in March) and Cappadonna appears to have been blackballed (perhaps even the Wu's venture capitalists thought his recent 'Greatest Hits' comp was a touch shady). Flavor Flav, however, is an unlikely but welcome recruit, shouting with his usual inane genius on 'Soul Power (Urban Jungle)'. There's also something of a first with the recruitment of hot producers from outside their sphere, so the Trackmasters contribute 'Back In The Game' - slicker and elegantly constructed around a refrain sung by Ernie Isley, but still with the moody, oppressive atmosphere that has always been the group's trademark.
Elsewhere, it's very much a showcase for the RZA, back once again on top of his game. His love of brutally looped horn stabs (check 'Rules' and 'Uzi') and the lure of old soul riffs has never been so effectively deployed. 'Iron Flag' has his very best energy and punch, and even the slow, murky jams are imaginative, especially the saxophone, sitars and splintered piano on the inner city blues of 'Babies'. 'Iron Flag' lasts an hour and gets a bit sleepy towards the end but, amazingly, there is no filler. 2001 has been a tremendous year for hip-hop. At the last moment, the Wu-Tang Clan just made it even better.
by John Mulvey