The knock on Freeway is that his delivery is only suited for hood-on-smash conviction, but even if that's true, it's like criticizing GZA for being too clinical or M.O.P. for not doing enough for the ladies. There's something to be said for knowing your strengths, and-- lest we forget-- playing against type with Nelly and Mariah Carey collaborations on 2003's Philadelphia Freeway did him no favors. Free's been mostly out of the public eye since that record, embarking on a pilgrimage to Mecca and doubtlessly listening to The B. Coming hundreds of times. He's probably pissed that his former mentor, Beanie Sigel, came up with the "I still spit gangsta, think Muslim, and act Catholic" line first, but beyond that, you get the sense on his long-awaited follow-up Free at Last that he's trying to make a similar record-- one that's alternately boastful and ruminative, and on which he mostly avoids those misguided attempts to become a crossover star.
Free at Last also marks a shift away from the commercial behind the boards, with-- as he moans about on "It's Over"-- Freeway neither working with Just Blaze nor Kanye West, who between them produced three-fourths of Philadelphia Freeway. Instead, like a lot of Roc-A-Fella records, Free at Last employs sweeping soul loops and it's content to forgo a hook when the source material will do just fine. Though it isn't as opulent or expansive as Jay-Z's American Gangster, Freeway is still in some pretty tony real estate, with the live percussion of the orchestral "When They Remember" and "Reppin' the Streets" both flirting with Ghostface levels of classic soul.
Freeway's first album since 2003, Free at Last unsurprisingly often nods to the salad days of Roc-A-Fella, with the MC frequently decorating his verses with Sigel and Jigga quotes. "This Can't Be Real" catches you up to speed ("They say Free's nekkid/ He won't sell another record/ Y'all talkin' reckless!") with enough ambivalence to rise above rumor mongering, and on single "Roc-A-Fella Billionaires"-- a maddeningly catchy tribute to outlandish buying-- you can hear the difference between new money's hunger and the shit-eating satisfaction of CEO wealth as Jay-Z simply flips his "Dirt Off Your Shoulder" flow while detailing his spending habits ("I just copped me of all things/ A professional ball team").
Throughout Free at Last, Freeway displays a deft ability to play the foil to less exuberant MCs, with the exception of a firebreathing Busta Rhymes cameo on "Walk With Me". Free's intensity can be a lot to take in one sitting, which is why guest spots from Jay-Z, Jadakiss, and Scarface feel like the work of crafty sequencing. (Unfortunately, Lil Wayne collaboration "Step Back", once marked for the record, has gone missing.) Whatever religious enlightenment Freeway culled during his time off doesn't seem to translate to anything here, but his braying hood laments mix well with a typically sage Scarface verse on "Baby Don't Do It", as the Houston MC laments "I don't wanna be another joke/ 55, doing concerts, relying on the shows."
Listeners can guess which collaborations are skip-worthy from the tracklist alone. "Executive Producer" 50 Cent looms large over the mid-album trough of "Take It To The Top" and "Spit That Shit", temporarily turning Freeway into a G-Unit club connoisseur. Meanwhile, Cool & Dre's coke-cutting synths on "Lights Get Low" stand poorly in opposition of every other sound on the album and a Rick Ross appearance is a year too late to inspire anything other than wisecracks about hip-hop's most accomplished beards.
By the brief closer, "I Cry", Freeway finally gives into his emo-rapness, lamenting a life's story of woes, from having his G.I. Joe's go missing to being incarcerated during his daughter's birth. It's his voice more than his lyrics that has made him seem like an open book, but the title of this album isn't a mere play on words or a reference to his lengthy between-album hiatus; Free at Last is a portrait of someone who's still discovering his own identity.
