Over the past decade-plus, Sheek Louch has had the ignominious distinction of being an obvious third wheel: he's the only member of veteran Yonkers trio the LOX never to rap in a shoe commercial, Jadakiss and Styles P do their awesome back-and-forth thing only with each other, and while those two have managed hits independently, the only things you really knew about Sheek as a solo artist was that Ghostface seemed to like him, and he may have released an album on Koch. And yet, now that the album in question, Donnie G, finally arrives it's as his debut on the iconic Def Jam label.
Donnie G is a testament to Sheek's resiliency, but over those hard-fought years the rapper hasn't reinvented himself so much as recontextualized-- his emphatic starving-artist bark integrating the requisite hashtag and ad-libs of 2010 with fewer seams than you'd expect. It's allowed him to subsequently sound about right in the galaxy of Kay Slay rap: Ever-grinding NYC mixtape types like Maino, Uncle Murda, and Papoose, dudes whose beefs you can never keep straight, always seem on the verge of a major-label release that never happens, and are long on regional bluster and even longer on face-palm punchlines. Sheek honors the PE-sampling intro "Rhyme Animal" by calling himself "rap's herpes" with no irony whatsoever (whether "you don't want to see me" is a justifiable explanation is up for debate) and then obviously rhyming that with Slurpees and Hercules. Later on, he claims to "lyrically ejaculate," but that's not quite as embarrassing as saying, "Don Don about to blow up-- grenade!" And y'all thought he was going to say "World Trade."
Unlike Jada, Sheek doesn't bog down Donnie G with ill-fated pop moves, and there isn't the unrelenting grimness of Styles' solo work. As the very rare rapper who brags about how good is he at lifting weights as moving it, Donnie G is at its best when "bottle service" means Vitamin Water instead of Nuvo. Statik Selektah's beat on "Nite Falls" somehow has sci-fi proggers Planet P Project soundtracking a club riot, and while "Clip Up (Reloaded)" and the Black Uhuru-sampling "Dinner Guest" aspires to be something of low-budget "POWER", it's a reminder of the LOX's potency when they attack a track as a posse cut rather than a concession to Hot 97. Obviously, the attempt at Drake-like pop-rap with DJ Webstar (you know, the "Chicken Noodle Soup" dude) doesn't sound like it has much investment from anyone involved; a smooth Jeremih hook makes "Party After 2" Sheek's best seduction of both females and radio play.
On "Dinner Guest", you finally get some insight into the life of someone who often goes out of his way to portray himself simply as a blank Consummate Thug: While looking back on his decade and a half career, he raps, "Did deals with everybody, even survived the Puff rape," and yet earlier, he boasts that he's "trying to be like Diddy, put some women in the tub (take that!)." This isn't new: there've been plenty of references to getting his "Benjamins" money back throughout the past few years, but what's weirder is that he's slyly complementary of Diddy as well-- Donnie G is damn near a long-form commercial for Ciroc, and the LOX even reconsidered signing with the guy again. That really goes to the heart of the however-limited appeal of Donnie G: For years, the LOX have been seen as emblematic industry victims, but at his best, Sheek eschews that and realizes the paradoxical ability to sound like a beast and an underdog at the same time.
