On the cover of The Naked Truth, Kimberly Jones stares directly into the camera/your eyes. There's no boudoir photography, no exposed belly or freed boobs; nothing but her face (and the explicit lyrics warning, of course). It's an interesting, if obvious, tack from a woman out to make her "confessional" album; a woman who has spent most of her professional career simultaneously infuriating/heartening feminists. It's hard to imagine the woman who spit so ferociously on "Suck My Dick" or "Custom Made (Give it To You)" is letting someone else call the shots. On the other hand, one viewing of the "How Many Licks?" video is enough to make you join your local Andrea Dworkin fan club.
As most everyone knows, Kim is currently serving a year and a day bid for perjury and conspiracy in a widely publicized case, which involves standing by men not worth sticking up for. (There's a whole mess of contradictions at work here that would be impossible tease out in a record review-- not the least of which being the trope of staying true to your crew vs. an urban environment so currently hostile to law enforcement that murderers walk.) So, needless to say, she's pissed. Among those who end up in her crosshairs are 50, the entire New York judicial system, and, of course, the Junior M.A.F.I.A. boys.
When Kim's worked up, as on the "Welcome to Jamrock"-flipping first single "Lighters Up", she sounds unstoppable. The utterly venomous "Shut Up Bitch" recalls those early, scalding singles, including the astounding line "your mouth's a cage for your tongue if you just close your teeth." The beats are similarly hot, from the stomping fake dancehall of "Durty" to the sleazy rework of Shocking Blue's "Love Buzz" on "Kitty Box". Occasionally Kim's quest for the most outrageous sexual lyrics possible leads her into the realm of the plain dumb: "I'm the only bitch in the world that got two pussies." (Though she's beaten by Bun B for sheer "holy crap" on "We Don't Give a Fuck": "bitch I been trill ever since the day I come out my momma's cunt.")
As always, it's a good idea to program out the skits, nearly a quarter hour's worth and none particularly funny or interesting. Likewise a few of the tracks are a bit of a drag; you understand she's going through hard times. Unfortunately it's hard to rally behind her when she sounds as enervated as she does on "Quiet". On "All Good", she freaks a Big line into a decent hook, which sounds good (as Biggie's voice almost always will), but doesn't do much for those who feel she's been riding his coattails ever since his death. On the other hand, if a male MC-- like, say, the Gift of Gab-- affected the flows of as many other rappers as Kim does here (from Big to Eminem to Damian Marley), he'd be called an "encyclopedia of MC styles."
The Naked Truth isn't quite the masterpiece everyone is angling for in this middling year for rap, when the post-50/T.I. deluge of young bucks with increasingly stupid puns for dealing reached saturation point. Even The Source awarded it a frankly ridiculous five mics, mostly notable because that mag isn't known as a hotbed of female empowerment. While the market is incredibly hostile to female rappers-- though it's heartening to see Crime Mob')"Stilettos (Pumps)" finally make MTV's Jam of the Week-- The Naked Truth may be better than 80% of the other rap albums to be released in 2005, but that don't make it another Ready to Die.
