Buck 65's focus shifts from album to album. He started out creating personas on Language Arts, moved onto developing a distinct style (Vertex) and was last heard experimenting with drum 'n' bass rhythms-- and weird song structures-- on Man Overboard. Now the self-proclaimed "Ratfish" has shifted to a major label, and into a new, slightly contradictory focus: accessibility through the esoteric.
Buck (government name Rich Terfry) is best known for three elements: his terrible voice (best described as chain-smoking 10 year old), his rigid flow and, most importantly, his diverse subject matter. Although nothing on this album is on the level of obscurity as his sub-famous "Centaur" narrative, Stinkin' Rich still manages to rip through a myriad of issues. He goes from discussing intergender politics ("Square 2") to the tribulations of childhood friendship (later on the same cut), to the social ramifications of science ("Square 4"). He even has a narrative about a local girl's degeneration at the hands of incest rumors regarding her family ("Square 3").
The trouble doesn't come with his rhymes either, as Bucky comes relatively fresh throughout the album. When confronting his past, he claims that he'd "go down by the river to watch the way the devil dances/ I never took his hand, even though I did have several chances." When describing his gripes with industry asskissers, he explains that they "can't dance but do dance anyway" and have "vampire fangs and see-through hearts." Lyrically, he tones down the bravado and persona switching, settling instead on distant narratives and detached commentary, slowly showing contempt for traditional hip-hop barriers. Although he lacks vocal dexterity, and may bug out every now and then-- threatening to "ovulate on your pillowcase"-- Buck 65 still stands tall as one of the best writers in underground rap.
His production borrows heavily from early 90s masters like Prince Paul (De La Soul), Digable Planets and Ali Shaheed Muhammad (A Tribe Called Quest) and it definitely shows on Square. From down-tempo tone experiments on "Square 3" to the labored piano loops of "Square 2" and some elegantly flipped video game sampling, Buck knows that being saddled with such a rough voice, he lives and dies on his production.
Separated into four tracks that range from 13 to 17 minutes apiece, Square is a concept album clearly developed with the ideas of consistent play and analysis in mind, but, in actuality, Buck's intentions make the album disjointed: it's a chore to fast forward past a four-minute instrumental breakdown to get to some rapping. In fact, over the 60 minutes of Square, there are only about 13 rap songs, typically three minutes each. This leaves roughly a third of the album to less-than-progressive instrumentals, hit and miss vocal samples and above-average scratching. These techniques are welcome on the album, but come with the added expense of a bloated listening experience.
"Square 4" is where Rich cuts corners and develops the deadly circle that envelops all the worst elements of the album: a lack of focus, concepts meant to show versatility that end up flawed in execution and overlong), and pointless instrumental breakdowns that wreck the consistency of the movement. A particularly embarrassing moment comes near the middle, where Buck makes it abundantly clear that he is ridiculously hungry. Not as an emcee per se, but as a person. Imagine playing this at a social gathering and seeing faces contort at every "Mmmmm..." that Buck 65 tosses to the listener.
Still, keep in mind that everything that led up to this final Cube-sized serving was a melodic mix of folk rock sensibility, smooth early 90s style production, clever lyrical observations and a relatively enjoyable train ride into the mental station of Halifax's best-known emcee. Although unable to touch his 1999 masterpiece Vertex, Buck shows his plans for progress in his home-brewed rap subgenre.
