Hey yo, the Wu-Tang Clan is back for some action, releasing the new album "Iron Flag." I picked it up; it’s phat, but no where near the group’s first sensation chart destroyer and instant classic "Enter the Wu-Tang."
The Wu is not the same anymore. They’re going for safe beats and proven rifts since the absence of their marquee member Russell Tyrone Jones, also known as Ol’ Dirty Bastard. Without ODB, they’ve lost some of their edge. On the cover of the new Wu, ODB’s cousin RZA proudly wears a bandana with the letters ODB.
My man ODB was sentenced in July 2001 to two to four years in prison by a New York Supreme Court judge for drug possession charges. Before that, he stole some shoes from a store and he escaped from a drug rehabilitation center in Los Angeles.
Despite his antics and off-the-wall behavior, ODB is one of the founding members of the Wu. He is a virtuoso, a poet, entertainer and walking embodiment of the streets of his hometown of Brooklyn. Why can’t we get Johnny Cochran on the phone to hear ODB’s case? He got OJ out safe and sound. I got mad as hell when I saw MTV Cribs and the Wu’s mansion was featured. The RZA, who admits to love and look out for his homeboy, should not buy a new Viper in the new 2 double-0 2, and get ODB out.
If you are a fan of rap and/or hip hop, you are quite aware that after the loss of Tupac and Biggie, the game has been hurting badly. I am not trapped in the past of Bad Boy glory day videos or West Coast bling.
But the game is hurting so bad that not so long ago I heard a new track from a Bad Boy artist who will remain nameless – so as to not feed into his 15 minutes of fame – on late night with Funk Flex, and it was just whack (for the record, I’m not saying all Bad Boy is bad).
The rap game needs a poster child. Jay-Z may hold down the crown with his pop-infused radio-friendly softball beats and hollering "h to the izzo," but that takes its toll. Nas is trying to save the game and give it some integrity, but try a little harder, Queens. And we all know it’s not real when soccer moms in an aerobics class in a local suburban gym are sweating to giggie Ja Rule.
Cube, one of the original gangstas went off to Hollywood to make movies and got pretty like Big Willy Style. Dre and Snoop are still living in their glory "The Chronic" days revisiting old hits become new, and they are slowly following Cube’s lead. Cypress Hill is having an identity crisis. The infamous Mobb Deep is infamously MIAing, despite releasing another album. The Lox recently said in a radio interview they will no longer be hardcore studio gangstas, I mean street gangstas, and Lil’ Kim, since she can’t write lyrics, is quickly fading into obscurity. Oh, everybody rise for Rev. Mase to do his service. Reading today is deacon DMX.
Meth and Red are real. They’re the dynamic duo of the game right now, but just how we like to see Batman and Robin, we need to see Superman. Not a fake Superman like Eminem.
ODB is a national treasure. Pick up his solo albums or hear him with the Wu and you know he is the man with the mic in his hand. ODB’s place to be is on MTV or BET and in your car’s CD player dropping knowledge or lack thereof.
Even if he doesn’t become the wonder boy and savior I see him as, it might just be fun to know he is not in a cell trying to avoid painful encounters with inmates. Come on, we had a president who said he was "not inhaling," Wyclef is always freed on bail, the artist formerly known as Puff Daddy went John Blazing with his piece in a club and now he’s walking making not-so-John Blazing songs.
I want to see the Tribe do a comeback. Give me some of the old school in the new, not just on the radio dial at noon. Please rappers, please stop making bad music. Fat Joe and Big Pun had a great thing going, but the Latin sensation had to die. The Roots are good. So good, they’re not in the same category as the names above. Now if you are a fan of the game or you like to keep it real and always respect your represent, don’t be a hater microphone contaminator and recognize that ODB should be in a lot of places…behind bars ain’t one of them.
The perfect rap song would go something like this: ODB and Tupac leading the way like Barry Sanders, with an intro from Big and an outro from Busta, throw a little Uncle Rickie and Sadat in the middle and B Real and Q doing background vocals, and Flex spinning dropping bombs like every day, with production by RZA.
Good looking out. I can still dream. q