It's hard to determine what the biggest surprise is regarding BAYTL: that it wasn't a joke, or that it isn't a joke. As far as the former goes: Yes, this thing exists. Gucci Mane, once one of the most prolific and popular rappers in the South, has done a full album with V-Nasty, the Kreayshawn sidekick who's famous only for being a white person that has vigorously defended her usage of, and her further right to use, the n-word. As for the latter, BAYTL is a surprisingly competent and sometimes fun low-stakes rap album, far from the disaster it could've been.
Though there are many ways in which the album might have gone off the rails, it's fairly easy to pinpoint why it often succeeds. One major reason is that Gucci and V-Nasty smartly decided to let underground big shot Zaytoven-- long one of Gucci's favorite and most fruitful collaborators-- handle the lion's share of the production. His beats are workshops in space and melody, stretching keyboard notes (that mimic organs) like they're taffy until the rappers have a melodic, yet unobtrusive, canvas to paint on. In Gucci's heyday the two were a constant source of gold, with Zay's production pairing harmoniously with Gucci's playful, inventive flows. On BAYTL, Zay is probably asked to carry too much of the load, and his effectiveness becomes dulled over the course of the album. But allowing him to produce nearly the entire record brings professionalism, cohesion, and coherence to a project that threatened to have none of the above.
V-Nasty, for her part, also acquits herself better than you would think. Her voice is atonal in a way that's more off-putting than interesting, and her flow can get clumsy and cluttered at times, but she's more or less up to the task of writing half of a decent album, which is more than you could say for some rappers famous for being actual rappers. She gets by well enough on swagger and brashness, and without the baggage her contributions would scan as acceptingly perfunctory. It would be hard to argue that the world needs V-Nasty's rapping-- and it doesn't, obviously-- but she'll get clowned for being a try-hard white girl when in reality there were at least four worse rappers in XXL's "2011 Freshman Class."
In a cruel and sad twist of irony, easily the best verse on the album belongs to Slim Dunkin, who shines on "Push Ups". Dunkin was murdered in Atlanta last month as he prepared for the filming of the video for that song. If there's anything truly exciting to be pulled from BAYTL, it's Slim's marked improvement as a writer, something that makes his premature death even sadder.
As for Gucci himself, he sounds sober and engaged, which is a step up from where he was for most of last year. He's on autopilot here, but he works so well with Zaytoven that the only drawback is that it allows you to dream of how good a full collaborative album between the two would've been three years ago. Gucci's major issue now-- even more than his lost affinity for cinematic imagery-- is that humor and creativity have been all but sapped from his writing, leaving us an MC whose aggressive braggadocio comes off as unnecessarily defensive. When, late on the album, Gucci raps, "I'm not romantic, but I cook my dope candlelit," it's as stunning as if you ran into a good friend you thought you'd never see again. But, just as quickly, that Gucci disappears.
BAYTL is a record that, contrary to the hopes of some and the fears of others, isn't a huge failure or massive embarrassment. The talent of all involved-- fading in some, and bubbling in others-- ends up taking control of the sideshow. But with that said, the album, more than anything, is a bizarre and unique artifact of rap music in 2011. It's a record that marks the time when the "Gucci Gucci" rapper's homegirl became notorious enough to do an album with Gucci Mane, and when Gucci Mane had fallen far enough to decide to go along with it.
