You might think the remarkably similar and undeniably terrible Black Lips/GZA collaborations from earlier this year would have made everyone involved in the BlakRoc project-- Black Keys plus hip-hop artists, to be reductive-- re-think their decision. But by being so blatant about what it did wrong-- combining notoriously sloppy and notoriously methodical artists-- the Lips and GZA may have actually have provided an unintentional boost.
No such problem exists in BlakRoc-- the Black Keys recently toe-dipped into hip-hop by having Danger Mouse produce their last LP and their reverent, values-based approach to the blues nicely dovetails with the ethos of the MCs involved-- mostly guys who came up in NYC during the late and mid-1990s. And while this simpatico relationship ensures that BlakRoc allays all fears of being about as good as any previous rap-rock full-lengths, for better or worse, it ultimately serves as both the floor and the ceiling. If you're okay with "solid" being the main descriptor for a project boasting such well-known talent, BlakRoc won't be a disappointment.
In the track review for "Stay Off the Fuckin' Flowers", Tom Breihan described it as resembling Edan's "Beauty and the Beat, but with good rapping," which is pretty dead-on in two aspects. Raekwon is still in Gemstar-sharp Iron Chef mode here, in a performance worthy of comparison to deeper cuts from Cuban Linx... Pt. 2. Granted, it widely deviates from the typical subject matter on BlakRoc-- I suppose it's a testament to the respect given the Black Keys that most raps here work within the standard blues-rock tropes of hard times (most notably, "Hard Times") and no-good women ("Hope You're Happy", "Tellin' Me Things").
More importantly, in spite of the presence of tireless self-promoters like Damon Dash, Jim Jones, and RZA, they never go overboard and play up the masturbatory "look at us, we made a rap record with psychedelic rock guitars" angle like Edan and his ilk did, although the acknowledgment of the guys behind the boards make for the most awkward lyric on the whole thing-- "fuck the white ones, the Black Keys got so much soul."
But the Keys and Mos Def make the most of the stoned salutation "On the Vista", the sort of sing-rapping about the kind of "total control" one only feels in a hallucinatory state-- it wouldn't feel out of place on The Ecstatic, and most importantly, it could close the door on Mos relying on Fishbone as being some sort of apotheosis of rock music. Meanwhile, short-lived Dipset hook lady Nicole Wray (the one who made 1998's awesome "Make It Hot" as just plain Nicole) simmers admirably on the streetlamp-lit noir&B of "Why Can't I Forget Him".
And yet for all the brown-acid reverb, BlackRoc often comes off as a resolutely sober affair-- mutual respect leads to no on stepping on each other's toes or letting loose. I suppose the RZA's having fun, even if it rarely feels like anyone else is in on it-- he's strictly in quasi-erudite Bobby Digital mode here, where you actually prefer his nonsensical wordplay to moments when he's actually intelligible. Even if it never really syncs up, the attempt to match Zep-drum reverb to double-time Dirty South flows on "Coochie"-- which isn't available on digital versions of the record-- turns out to be the record's riskiest sonic experiment, but even that seems too restrained. Yes, a song called "Coochie" with Ol' Dirty Bastard and Ludacris is too restrained: Think about that for a second.
But even if the lame parts of BlakRoc are more noticeable than the enjoyable, what really sticks out is how easy this all feels--- not once does anything feel like awkward ambassadorship. For a project that spawned an accompanying tricked-out Camaro, it's a pleasantly modest album. And really, it's cool that a somewhat non-obvious choice like the Black Keys get to be involved with something like this. So, fine if BlakRoc's impact isn't always musical: At the very least, its optimistic approach feels pretty exciting when too many hip-hop fans are more willing to peel off self-satisfied jeremiads about the genre's demise.
