Growing up in Houston's 5th Ward, ex-Geto Boy Scarface waded through a constant litany of violence, drugs, and gangs. But rather than buckle under the pressure and become another statistic running through ballistics, 'Face managed to cipher that pain and struggle into his rhymes. His booming baritone sounded alternately boastful and besieged, paranoid and supremely confident. His straight-forward recitation of the roughneck life was gangsta before we even knew what gangsta was. In his own words, he has "turned a dream into reality with a fuck-you mentality." And, in addition to his artistic and commercial accomplishments, Scarface has also reigns as president of Def Jam South, one of the best-known hip-hop labels, producing the always-amusing Ludacris.
But even as the platinum records pile up, strife is never far off. Geffen almost refused to release the Geto Boys' debut; 'Face suffered from multiple and prolonged bouts with depression; and the FBI and DEA reportedly keep tabs on him. Although these events may be unfortunate on a personal level, the struggle keeps 'Face hungry, and, as he recently told BET, "spoke through my pen to ease my pain."
The best songs on The Fix resonate with that classic 'Face blend of swagger and sadness. "Safe", which kicks off the album, is a bluesy and brutal ride through the man's hood. Children grow up disillusioned and poor; snitches slip, flip, and die; and the hustle goes on and on. Scarface walks through this carnage with his trademark nihilistic bluster and drug-game savvy. Sure, we've heard the tale of urban decimation and dime-bag capitalism a million times before, but 'Face was among the first to set this shit off and he navigates through the clichés of hopelessness better than most.
For "Guess Who's Back", Jay-Z and fellow Roc-a-Fella cohort Beanie Sigel drop by to pay their respects to the real originator. Producer Kayne West, who has now officially arrived, provides a blazing track that wouldn't have sounded out of place on The Blueprint. Although Jigga and Beanie both drop serviceable verses, the crown for best guest appearance on goes to Nas for his verse on "In Between Us". Despite a generic beat, Nas lashes out with a newfound hunger that's kept him in contention for the title of King of NY.
Still, even with a string of near-classic guest spots and some smokin' verses, The Fix has too many holes to recommend. The record features no less than nine different producers that were seemingly given the directive to come up with the most forgettable and formulaic beats possible. And the tracks featuring R&B; vocalists are the album's weakest, by a long shot. To quote Wu Guru RZA, "R&B; equals rap and bullshit". And, lastly, a large reason this album ultimately fails is because Scarface has been so successful in the past. After inspiring a hip-hop movement (the Dirty South), 'Face's tales of ghetto horror and valor now come off redundant. He may play it better than most, but it's still that same old song.
