If there was any question as to where Raekwon stands with the Wu-Tang Clan in 2017, consider this: In the 23 years since he burst onto the scene with his brethren on Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers), the Chef has released seven solo LPs. His latest, The Wild, is the first to feature zero Clan members.
His understandable frustration with the way the RZA has guided the Clan in the past has left him searching for a new voice, and the music industry’s rapid release cycle paradigm led him to make a few awkward attempts at reinvention. Rae has struggled to keep up with the expected output of a hip-hop artist in the mixtape era; his handful of recent mixtapes contained more forgettable moments than memorable ones. It’s been eight years since his stunning comeback sequel to Only Built 4 Cuban Linx…, prodding the question: Does Raekwon have gas left in the tank?
The Wild’s answer is a definitive yes. Eschewing the bloated roster of features from his last LP (2015’s Fly International Luxurious Art) for just a few collaborators, The Wild is a 16-course meal representative of the Chef’s experience and legacy. Raekwon has always felt like the spiritual progeny of Slick Rick—an expert at vividly painted story raps—though his rhymes are perhaps laced with more vitriol. On one of the album’s strongest tracks, “Marvin,” Rae tells someone else’s story, crafting Marvin Gaye’s biography in three verses, from the Moonglows to Motown to his tragic murder at the hands of his father. Over a soulful Banks & Hampton sample, Cee-Lo’s croon soars over the hook, lending the track a somber gravitas.
Throughout The Wild, amid the casual braggadocio and nimble wordplay, Rae is often in a reflective mood, considering past mistakes and the crazy risks that young hoods take in the streets. “That used to be me, young, ruthless, and carefree/Until I seen the bigger picture, shifted, my way of thinking/That 25 to life is real, so is the casket once it close on you,” he raps on “Visiting Hour.” It’s a refreshing perspective from one of Mafioso Rap’s biggest stars, taking the tone of a wise uncle who’s been there, done that, and knows better.
The luxurious Rick Ross aesthetic Rae tried on for F.I.L.A. and his Unexpected Victory mixtape seemed to suit him poorly; if The Wild feels like a return to form, it’s because he’s embraced the way his growl adds grit to ’70s soul-sampling productions. The producer Xtreme freaks no less than three such samples on the record’s lead single, “This Is What It Comes Too,” laying some Al Green strings on top of some Melvin Bliss drums, working in a yelp from the Ohio Players’ “Ecstasy” that sounds almost instrumental in its new context. It’s nothing groundbreaking, but serves as the perfect platform for a middle-aged Raekwon—an expertly cooked boom-bap beat with enough energy to let him flex rhyme skills that rival any of the young bucks currently dominating the airwaves.
Raekwon’s recent surge of productivity proves he’s not one of those “stuck in the ’90s” cats—he seems to genuinely want to evolve. At 47, he’s still trying out new flows. His stutter-step delivery on “You Hear Me” loses impact with its mushy enunciation, but the fact that he would take the risk is commendable. A quick glance at a recent list of his favorite hip-hop records of all-time—rooted firmly in the golden and silver ages of hip-hop—reveals what inspires him most. When Raekwon leans into those sounds and themes, the rhymes that flow through him are evidence that this OG can still hang with the best of them.
