Czarface, the hip-hop supergroup consisting of Wu-Tang’s Inspectah Deck and Boston boom-bap revivalists 7L & Esoteric, has never been apologetic when it comes to their nostalgia for the good old days. Drawing from a childhood love of superhero comics, the trio devised the robot ghoul Czarface to serve as their collective avatar. His mission? “[T]o save hip-hop,” Inspectah Deck told HipHopDX in 2013, echoing the rallying cry of rap traditionalists everywhere. Whether or not you agree that hip-hop needs saving, you can’t accuse Czarface of not trying: The group has put out three full-lengths and an instrumental album over the course of the last five years. While hardly groundbreaking, these records have provided a reliable source of low-stakes fun for people who miss things like dusty samples, goofy skits, and dense rhymes. A few of those people have even lent their talents as guests: Action Bronson, Mr. Muthafuckin’ eXquire, DJ Premier, and half of Deck’s Wu-Tang colleagues.
But as Czarface likes to remind us, Every Hero Needs a Villain. And none is more qualified for the job than MF DOOM (the “MF” is apparently back, DOOM’s near pathological aversion to having his records filed next to each other notwithstanding). He’s the last man standing from New York’s “Golden Era,” an emcee whose once-peerless wordplay was the very embodiment of the synergy of hip-hop and comic-book culture. Following a one-off track with Czarface (2015’s “Ka-Bang!”), DOOM now returns for a full-length collaboration with the group.
As you may know, the last decade hasn’t been kind to the man behind the mask. DOOM was forced to decamp to London after being denied entry to the United States (a country he had lived in nearly all of his life) and announced last year that his teenage son had died. With the exception of his undated Missing Notebook Rhymes verses, he’s sounded increasingly lethargic and dull on the mic, even slurring his speech at times. But he’s remained active, regularly surfacing for guest verses, remixes, and production gigs, even while marquee projects like Madvillainy 2 and DOOMSTARKS remain eternally on the back burner. If nothing else, he’s been a prolific collaborator, working with kindred spirits like Ghostface, Flying Lotus, Earl Sweatshirt, Cannibal Ox, Busta Rhymes, and the Avalanches. It’s as if he’s been searching for his perfect foil, that opponent who can draw out his inner supervillain.
Czarface is not quite that ideal nemesis, though on a few tracks, the group does manage to coax more energy out of DOOM than we’ve heard in a few years. Lead single “Nautical Depth” provides the best example. Here DOOM delivers his most sprightly verse on the album over a grimy bassline, even offering a few flashes of his once razor-sharp lyricism (“No friendly warfare, this ain’t wrestling/There’s nothing staged over here, you’re trippin’, mescaline”). “Phantoms,” the record’s highlight, is even more successful overall. The Czar-Keys beat here is surprisingly modern, building a groove out of bubbly 8-bit chirps that collapse halfway through the track, revealing a chasm of groaning synths below. DOOM kicks things off with a competent but forgettable verse, Deck spits furiously, landing a few satisfying lines (“Stared death in the face, left him with a sore neck”) and even Esoteric, the weakest rapper of the bunch, shows up with a surplus of energy. The real star here, though, is Open Mike Eagle, who barely breaks a sweat rapping circles around his hosts. His verse spins a pun-filled yarn about a supernatural houseguest who chastises Mike for not buying into BitCoin, drives a Rolls-Royce Phantom and plays the exquisite corpse parlor game obsessively. In another era, this is precisely the caliber of storytelling and wit we might have expected from DOOM.
Unfortunately, the rest of the record can’t meet the bar set by these highlights. “Forever People” is clearly meant to be a mic-skills showcase, the dialed-back beat consisting of little more than palm-muted guitar and a looped drum break. But none of its verses are particularly notable: DOOM is mealy-mouthed, Esoteric leans more on references than ability, and Deck’s verse, while dynamic, feels simplistic (“I stay woke like seven cups of coffee”). On “Don’t Spoil It,” Deck stuffs his bars with references to classic rap albums, but the song feels more pandering than clever. And Esoteric, at his best, sounds like a JAY-Z impersonator (Blueprint era, of course); it certainly doesn’t help that he regularly drops lines like “My interest, fly Benzes.”
You can’t knock Czarface Meets Metal Face too much for sounding like a period piece, since that’s so clearly the intention. Czarface has always spoken directly to a specific audience, one that values familiarity over progression. And if what you’re looking for is a hip-hop album that sounds like it could have been recorded 15 years ago, Czarface Meets Metal Face certainly delivers. Everything from the production to the corny pulp-movie skits feels frozen in time. But if you want to be reminded why DOOM and Deck are held in such high esteem, you’d be better off sticking to the classics. Just ask any traditionalist: They don’t make ‘em like they used to.
