I'm not sure there's a duller discussion to be had about music than the one about hip-hop's mainstream/underground divide. It's unnecessary and a slight bit juvenile because it's one-sided and too often an exercise in the have-nots simply praising themselves for their not having rather than, y'know, going out and developing their own style, and that's not a very productive way of going about things. DM + Jemini apparently couldn't give a toss about any of these hip-hop politics, either, because they've managed the too-rare trick of bridging the gap. Ghetto Pop Life is a leftfield album built with an emcee more interested in offering wordplay than storytelling or charisma, and a DJ who isn't afraid to underscore the lyrics with playful beats.
DM + Jemini-- a self-contained crew, something of a rarity these days-- are also an odd couple. Danger Mouse is based in the far-more-pop-than-ghetto Athens, GA, wears animal costumes, and has crafted beats for limp British R&B; artists, while Jemini (formerly The Gifted One) is a mid-90s Brooklyn B-boy who recorded the Brooklyn Kids' solid Funk Soul Sensation EP. Jemini's nasal, sing-song voice and tendency to raise his tone as he delivers his lines contain echoes of Freeway and Sadat X, although he's not nearly as distinctive or engaging as the former or as high-pitched and offbeat as the latter; his poker-faced rhymes show a bit of dexterity but too often lack personality. Danger Mouse, meanwhile, seems stubbornly determined to make a party record, and acts a welcome counterweight. His soundscapes borrow heavily from hip-hop's history, but rarely drift into the back-patting regressiveness of Jurassic 5 and other old-school loyalists.
Ghetto Pop Life's best tracks balance cinematic tones with a touch of funk and Prince Paul's penchant for quirk. It's fairly direct and hardly experimental-- DM's version of pop seems to cut off before the digital era (the only contemporary whose influence is noticeable is Just Blaze)-- but to compensate, it features some of the catchiest hooks the underground has produced this year. "Born-a-MC"-- a regal opener in the spirit of Jay-Z's "The Ruler's Back" and The Streets' "Turn the Page"-- bleeds into the swirling, trebly, and quite glorious title track. "I got a bullet in the clip/ I got a lyric I could spit," Jemini proclaims, illustrating the record's denial of a hip-hop dichotomy. The top-heavy disc peaks early with its sixth track, the infectious, horn-driven "The Only One", which replicates a guilt-free block party vibe without pandering to nostalgia (unlike most of the record's guests, which include The Pharcyde, The Liks, and J-Zone). Other thrills come courtesy of the guitar-picking "Omega Supreme (Who?!)", the restless march of "Copy Cats", and "That Brooklyn Shit", a baroque, Wu-Tangish blend of bewilderment and braggadocio.
Unfortunately, the record slumps to a close, weighted down by shaky attempts at topical rap: The calypso-esque "Don't Do Drugs" is a bit precious, oscillating between catchy and grating, while "Bush Boys" is a bit too simplistic, an exercise in preaching to the choir. Other missteps include the flat-out weak Pharcyde collaboration "Medieval", the love letter "I'm a Doomee", and "Here We Go Again", which seems to be purposefully arrhythmic in order to keep focus off its weighty topic, and goes down like medicine (or at least Black-Eyed Peas). It's even peppered with some oddly dated observations, like a mention of the OJ trial (?!) and the line, "Republican/ Democrats/ One and the same," which, even as a former Nader voter, strikes me as a questionable observation.
Jemini's comeback is heartwarming and welcome, but it's when Danger Mouse offers a delicate application of his influences that the album truly works. On the whole, the record's another winner from Warp subsidiary Lex Records, which also delivered Tes' x2 earlier in the year and will release the debut from Non Prophets next month. (They're providing some lovely packaging for their records, as well.) Although it's weighted down in spots, Ghetto Pop Life is, at its best, a true surprise from a seemingly mismatched pair working well together to produce a universal, populist sound.
