By Jimmy
Ness
Hearing
half of the Thornton brothers do anything other than spit vicious coke raps
just seems wrong. Like a convicted murderer claiming their religion to the
parole board, listening to Malice after his conversion to Christianity leaves a
foul aftertaste. As part of the duo Clipse with his brother Pusha T, he was
making drug rhymes menacing enough to give Rick Ross nightmares. And yes I’m
aware Malice’s new name is No Malice, but like an ashamed parent I refuse to
acknowledge this glaring mistake.
June is the first track from
Virginia’s new holy man and it’s the opposite of heavenly. The annoying Eric
David sung chorus drowns the song and ruins any replay value. Malice brags
about his past life then rhymes about being a changed man and supposedly
hitting rock bottom. There’s nothing wrong with evolution if you’re got something
specific to say. But without any personal detail this track lacks something to
dig into. Rather than invoke past troubles (being afraid of catching AIDS), the
35 year-old offers tame lines like “trying to put my thing where I ain’t got no
business.” It might just be a promotional single, but for the first record
under your new identity, a captivating mission statement would help.
Far be it
from me to dictate terms to an artist, but we know what the fans want. The Hell
Hath No Fury reunion. Malice’s sincerity deserves credit, but rap’s not
exactly a stranger to religious hypocrisy. From Nas to 2pac, dozens of MCs have
invoked religion without limiting their subject matter. Even Eminem says he
believes in god despite comparing himself to the face-eater Hannibal Lecter and
giving teenagers a lifetime supply of shit jokes. No one wants to be preached
to in rap form (see late period: KRS). Understandably, a lifetime of
over-consumption must get exhausting. But people are always going to
want/expect the raw from Clipse.
Rappers
turning into holy men doesn’t exactly have a successful history and is a proven
way to alienate your fanbase. Shyne became a crazy Rabbi, DMX’s Gospel album
vanished, and MC Hammer made that terrible video about Jay-Z being the devil.
The only example of religion being cool in rap is the Five Percent Nation and
that’s because it’s like a secret club only Wu Tang, Nas and Busta Rhymes know
about.
Will
Malice’s new album flop and have him joining the likes of Master P and Ma$e in
rescinding faith for a career comeback? I’m probably assuming too much based
off one track, but I have a sinking feeling the answer is yes.