Scant months after Q-Tip publicly debated the dubiousness of an “adult-contemporary hip-hop” category on social media comes a completely Tip-produced new album by his Queens neighbor LL Cool J — the 56-year-old rapper-actor’s 14th since his 1984 debut as a teenager. In a year when both Rakim and Masta Ace released new projects, when Common teamed with producer Pete Rock for a stellar throwback album of Nineties-spirited hip-hop, LL’s new effort joins a trend. “Call it traditional hip-hop,” Q-Tip tweeted.
The FORCE doesn’t nod to modern drill or trap, nor are there vintage boom-bap beats to be heard. Still lyrically competitive after 39 years of rhyming, Q-Tip modernizes LL’s sound for those who’d actually want to stream a new LL Cool J album and gives them what they came for: boastful brags (“Murdergram Deux” with Eminem), lover-man vibes (“Proclivities”) and some old-school rap storytelling (“Spirit of Cyrus”).
Pairing the still musclebound MC responsible for sexy classics like “Doin’ It” with the producer of A Tribe Called Quest come-ons like “Electric Relaxation” seems almost too on the nose. And yes, in 2024, LL is a long-married grandpa. But we hardly even need to suspend our disbelief as he twists seductive rhymes around a synth line recalling Gary Numan on “Proclivities,” flirting with Saweetie about tonsil hockey and making panties drop. The FORCE is hardly LL’s grown-up 4:44 album. He’s the same Farmers Boulevard superhero he’s always been and the album is better for it.
But LL does look back in the rearview. His first single launched Def Jam as a hip-hop label in ’84 — he name drops the label's co-founders Rick Rubin (on “Basquiat Energy”) and Russell Simmons (on “Runnit Back”). Like Captain America revived from suspended animation, LL returns from 1994 to a contemporary world he never made on “30 Decembers” (“this world ain’t like I remember,” he laments). When Nas guests on the spiritualist “Praise Him,” the Queensbridge rapper brings up the golden-age hip-hop fashion of sheepskin coats and Cazal eyeglasses.
The titular “FORCE” stands for “frequencies of real creative energy,” and the NCIS: Los Angeles star arguably gets his most creative on “Black Code Suite.” He embodies a litany of African-American bona fides (“I’m the sound of Miles Davis, it’s impossible to bury me/The slow pimp walk, it’s impossible to hurry me”), including the spice in hot sauce and tastebuds savoring sunflower seeds, ending with the repetitive declaration “I’m Black.” Title references to Huey P. Newton, Jean-Michel Basquiat, and Cyrus of The Warriors fit the program. If LL has done nothing but craft his Blackest album possible within the confines of pop-leaning hip-hop for oldsters, his mission is well accomplished.
