The second coming of Nasir Jones has been prophesied more times than the end of the house price boom or the imminent arrival of a white Christmas. But 'God's Son', a record that underscores the Queensbridge rapper's considerable talents, may be the one that merits such talk.
Nas' problem was that his first album, 1994's 'Illmatic', was not only one of hip hop's greatest records, it is one of the finest debuts of all time. A concise, focussed, 45-minute affair, 'Illmatic' condensed a life of observing, writing and analysing into nine classic tracks. It sold relatively poorly, but attained the status of an icon - venerated, worshipped, even; talked about in hushed reverence wherever two or three devotees were gathered together.
'Illmatic's lengthy shadow was cast over all of Nas' subsequent releases, ensuring that adequate but less perfect records paled by comparison. Nas couldn't escape his own mythology. He even tried to subvert it, titling his last LP 'Stillmatic' as if to prove that he wasn't afraid of that early high water mark. The record received probably the most contentious five-mic award The Source magazine has ever bestowed on an album, and ultimately it answered fewer questions than it asked of the still-young rapper and his pedigree.
So, one row with Jay-Z later, 'God's Son' is again expected to be the record that sets things straight. And, especially during the first five tracks, it's the Nas of 'Illmatic' that we're treated to: laser-guided lyrics, set to sonic backdrops that befit a voice that flows like melted chocolate. Simple looped samples suit Nas, whose verbal styles are rooted in rap's old school, and rarely has he sounded as intense or as driven as on the richly crafted opener 'Get Down'. 'Made You Look' samples the king of the beats, the Incredible Bongo Band's reading of 'Apache', but still sounds vital and fresh. 'Zone Out', a close relative of 'Public Enemy Number One' featuring Nas's Bravehearts crew, is a back-to-the-future posse cut to gladden the heart. 'The Cross', produced by Eminem, shows Nas can do a Mathers style if he wants, too.
Other highlights include 'Warrior Song', which shows that guest vocalist and producer Alicia Keys has a career in hip hop beatmaking should she ever decide she's had enough of being a superstar in her own right. 'Book Of Rhymes' is a nice concept, Nas flipping through the pages of a forgotten notebook, rapping chunks that he dismisses before finding something that works. 'Thug Mansion (NY)' has him and the late Tupac Shakur rapping over a pair of acoustic guitars, and 'Dance', a requiem for Nas' mother, who died of cancer in April, is touching rather than mawkish.
But the best thing here is 'Last Real N**** Alive', Nas' response to the madness of the past 12 months, but with it all put into a glittering, revealing context. He takes us back to 1993, hanging out with Biggie and Raekwon from Wu-Tang, and, as he now admits, "borrowing" from both men's styles as each was telling him that the other was stealing his ideas. We're taken through his career, him telling us what he was thinking as he made his moves, and right up to his unwillingness to really get into it with Jay because of his mother's illness. It's gripping, dazzling, thrilling, exactly the sort of thing he should have been making all along, and the sort of track that makes you believe that Nas deserves to be counted among the elite of hip hop's all-time greats.
It's not all brilliant, but there's enough of brilliance here to convince. The second coming? Yeah, why not?
by Angus Batey