Some bands embrace consistency, others shy away, possibly fearing the alure of comfortability and the possible stagnation it might eventually result in. For established artists, there's no more sleep-depriving quandry than whether to stick with a successful, proven formula or throw it all out the window in favor of a radical change. But even for a few of those lucky superstars, it just comes naturally, without any deep contemplation. Critically speaking, bands who gravitate toward change get high marks for their willingness to continually invent and to challenge convention; the water-treaders simply get fans. It's unfair on any number of levels, I suppose, but it's with that understanding that I declare Gang Starr among the most consistent acts in hip-hop.
Ever since Step in the Arena and Daily Operation laid down the law for East Coast hip-hop back in '91 and '92, Gang Starr have slowed their pace with an "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" aesthetic, releasing albums every four or five years between Guru and DJ Premier's increasingly busy extracurricular schedules. And while they haven't broken any new ground since those early 90s classics, their records have been astoundingly solid in bearing the standards set by those canonical discs.
In the five years since Moment of Truth, Guru and Primo have watched as the face of mainstream hip-hop hardened into a countenance chiseled out with bling-bling braggadocio and self-hating diatribes. Fortunately, for a duo that's been hard from day one-- don't let that No More Mr. Nice Guy cover fool you-- there's a distinct possibility their credibility could translate into commercial success, almost as if the rap world has finally caught up with a group that was ten years ahead of its time. The combination of Guru's tough, streetwise lyrics and delivery and Premier's highly polished production fits in perfectly as an honest alternative to today's heavy rotation; it's a situation Gang Starr are well aware of, judging from several lyrical and interlude reminders that pop up throughout The Ownerz.
The record's first single, "Skills", is a prime example of its overall potential to launch Gang Starr into the mainstream with the respect they've enjoyed in the underground intact. Carried by the kind of popping bassline and sucka-challenging bravado that's powered all of their classic cuts, it's incredibly catchy without being overtly commercial. Throw in a couple of high-profile cameos-- most notably Jadakiss' firespitting verse on "Rite Where U Stand" and Snoop Dogg's right-at-home drawling over Premier's "In This Life..." beat (returning the favor of some beats Primo cooked up for his Paid tha Cost to Be da Bo$$ LP)-- and The Ownerz could accomplish that rarest of feats: commercial success that doesn't require a sacrifice of integrity.
Naturally, not all of the guest spots are wildly triumphant-- back-to-back appearances by Fat Joe, M.O.P., Big Shug and Freddie Foxx on "Who Got Gunz" and "Capture (Militia Pt. 3)" make for a thuggish lag right in the middle of the record, but the flow gets right back in line with the pair of cameo-free tracks that follow. As has been customary on Gang Starr records since Daily Operation, Guru steps aside for some young emcees to prove their worth on the mic: NYG'z and H. Stax contribute solid verses to "Same Team, No Games" and Smiley the Ghetto Child absolutely tears shit up-- like a young Nas or Jeru the Damaja-- on the brief "Werdz From The Ghetto Child". Still, even though the guest spots cover a wide range of hip-hop status levels, they all work to enforce Guru and Premier's aesthetic of consistency-- whether it's Jadakiss or NYG'z, the emcee has to make his style work with Gang Starr, not the other way around.
But all this talk of cameos distracts from all the unassisted cuts that prove Guru and Premier haven't lost an ounce of chemistry in their 14 years together. Primo's jazzy horn breaks underscore Guru's eloquent manifestos with assured refinement on every single track they turn on their own (which, impressively for a major-label hip-hop release, is over half the record), even redeeming what would've been the record's weakest cut with a bit of imagination: a reposession of Curtis Mayfield's "Kung Fu" that makes Guru's mack move narrative on "Nice Girl, Wrong Place" a little easier to stomach. For the record, Guru's candor and lack of romanticism are rather refreshing in this context-- just like hot pants, what you see is what you get.
The Ownerz will have to hold Gang Starr fans over while Premier contracts out beats for usually the only good cuts on otherwise sub-par rap records, and Guru releases another tepid Jazzmatazz or (God forbid) Baldhead Slick & da Click LP. We can't expect a new Gang Starr record until 2007 or 2008, but in the meantime, there's plenty here to celebrate for consistency's sake-- because for what they've lacked in evolution, Guru and Premier have more than repaid in reliability. And while it's probably too late in their career for a breakout hit record, more people are definitely going to know who they are, which will hopefully translate into the same veneration from the establishment they've enjoyed from their fans since back in the day.
