Unlike other MCs who rose to prominence in the early 90s, Nasir Jones (aka Nas) had the artistic misfortune to survive that decade. It may be a grotesque thing to say, but if Nas had fallen after releasing a slew of classic singles and his startling debut Illmatic, he'd be every bit as revered as Biggie, 2Pac, Big Pun and Big L. Instead, Nas has broken our hearts with a series of decent-to-mediocre albums that belittle both his considerable talent and the sheer brilliance of Illmatic.
Between 1996 and late 2001, Nas morphed into a studio gangsta, and seemingly turned his back on the audience that initially supported him. When his now-infamous feud with Jay-Z began, Nas was nursing a faltering career and had virtually no street cred; he found himself at the mercy of an adversary with half his talent but twice his hunger. But rather than submit to a Jay-Z deathblow, Nas stepped back to the mic and began to revisit the lyrical mastery that characterized his early work. If his rivalry with Jay fueled a partial comeback on Stillmatic, God's Son amasses him even more tumultuous ammunition. Not a bad recovery for a year and a half's work.
Nas has been marginalized by the hip-hop community (or has marginalized himself, depending on which magazines you buy), endured the revelation that his child's mother had an affair with Jay-Z, and most tragically, dealt with the loss of his own mother. The shadows of these ghosts can be found throughout God's Son: he mentions the affair in no less than three songs, and on the "Last Real Nigger Alive", details his various beefs with Wu-Tang, Biggie, and Jay. If nothing else, the track is a revealing, semi-objective look at the long-rumored beef between the Wu's Raekwon, Nas, and Biggie, which, according to Nas, involved Raekwon and Biggie stealing his slang. Nas ends the song with one last diss for Jay-Z, "The Gift and Curse? Fuck that shit! The first shall be last... I was Scarface, Jay was Manolo." Damn...
The beauty of this album, of course, lies not in gossip, but in the emotional range and lyrical complexity Nas injects. While he does give nods to the street on the grimy "Get Down", reminiscent of Illmatic's "New York State of Mind", Nas also acknowledges that life isn't as straightforward as it once was; on the Eminem-produced "The Cross", Nas references his mother's death, then raps, "And I don't need much but a Dutch, a bitch to fuck/ A six, a truck, some guns to bust/ I wish it was that simple." The pain of loss saturates the album, manifesting in various spots as a source of strength, sorrow, and regret. It makes its presence known on the excellent "Warrior Song": "Earlier this year I buried my queen in a gold casket/ Your mother's the closest thing to God that you ever have, kid/ I'm askin', what would you do at your own mom's funeral?/ Wanna pick her up out of it, this can't be real/ Tellin' my daughter grandma's gone, but I can't keep still."
The self-examination that inevitably accompanies the death of a loved one has also provoked a renewed sense of socio-political consciousness in Nas. While he's always acknowledged that there's more to life than bustin' caps and smokin' blunts, Nas pushes these themes to the forefront on much of God's Son. "I Can" may be one of his most commercially viable tracks to date; it jacks its melody from Beethoven's "Fur Elise", features a children's choir on its chorus, and in the first two verses, warns of drug abuse and the sexual exploitation of minors. It's a nice enough sentiment, but it's also one we've been inundated with ad nauseam since first grade. Still, as you're about to skip forward to the next track, Nas drops his finest example of radical black politics yet. The verse bears repeating in full:
"Before we came to this countryWe were kings and queens, never porch monkeys.It was empires in Africa called Kush,Timbuktu, where every race came to get books,To learn from black teachers who taught Greeks and Romans,Asian Arabs and gave them gold, whenGold was converted to money it all changed.Money then became empowerment for Europeans,The Persian military invaded,They heard about the gold, the teachingsand everything sacred.Africa was almost robbed naked.Slavery was money, so they began making slave ships.Egypt was the place that Alexander the Great went.He wasn't shocked at the mountains with black facesShot up they nose to impose what basicallyStill goes on today, you see?If the truth is told, the youth can growThey learn to survive until they gain control."
In many ways, God's Son is lyrically superior to Illmatic. Nas has created an album that is at once mournful and resilient, street-savvy and academic. As an MC, he's technically stunning. His arsenal of flows would make even Jay jealous (and likely does after "Guns N' Roses"), and manages to be both rhythmically versatile and intellectually astute. Illmatic was an incredibly sick album-- one of the sickest ever-- and its influence still hangs over rap, but God's Son may ultimately have more emotional depth, something far too few critics give hip-hop credit for. This is the kind of album I'd have hoped that Biggie, Pac or Big L would've written had they survived.
What separates Illmatic from God's Son, though, and what ultimately robs this album of a 10.0, is the lukewarm production, some throwaway lines, and a slew of disposable hooks. The musical mediocrity of "Mastermind" and the commercial disposability of "Hey Nas" could be overlooked but for the sheer garbled trash of "Zone Out", which kicks the rating down at least a full point. Still, in this Age of the Producer, when most critics privilege form over content, regarding vocals as little more than musical instruments and preferring the safety of nonsensical lyrics, it's important that we remember the role of the MC in hip-hop, that of the innercity griot who captures all the stories, struggles, and secret language that slip through the media's cracks; the seer, who with one ear to the pavement and the other on his heart provokes and inspires. On God's Son, Nas does all these things, effectively taking a bat to his "one hot album every ten year average."
