"I'm not a dopehead, I'm a herbal sewer/ Blow smoke out my teeth/ Then pass like Heath Schuler." This lyric pretty much sums up how Droop Capone-- better known as L.A. emcee Dr.Oop-- devised such alter egos as Droopy Drawls, Chief Big Hat, Mr. Verbal Sunshine, and Dread Kaczinski. He's the "ganja guru." He's "burning nugs the size of Miss Piggy, the color of Kermit." And, as a warning to anyone planning to shake it down with him: he burns "sometimes before sex, after, or during." Watch your chochas, ladies!
The sheer volume of these 20 semi-focused tracks makes the fact that he's such a big-time stoner the unifying theme on Mad Hueman Disease. When Dr.Oop is on, he's on; his forte is rhyming in a no-frills, earnest style about his life. "One Life", a nostalgic "jazz funeral" track, has a slippery, laidback feel, and "9 to 5" describes the struggle of looking for work: "I've been denied jobs 'cause of my hair configuration." But when certain songs get lost in the mix due to messy or forgettable production, the fact that he's the "mary-jane-iac" who "smokes the green that Jah provided for me" is the only idea that's really sticky.
Much of Mad Hueman Disease's edutainment vibe comes off as distinctly 1998. Surprisingly, one of the freshest cuts sounds straight out of '88, and not just cause he namedrops the ill-fated single mom-edy Kate & Allie. "Pre-Dawn" is a simple, almost arrhythmic a cappella freestyle placed blearily atop midtempo beatboxing; Dr.Oop sounds summertime-careless as he raps, "Talkin' shit from New York to L.A./ Kickin' like Pele/ When he's playin' socca/ Drinkin' vodka/ With ism in my locka." Despite Mad Hueman's scattered concept, Dr.Oop's good-hearted, frank style can be very endearing.
At other points, his honesty verges on TMI. From "Punan Puffessa": "My patients give me feedback about examinations/ One said she liked the way the scalpel stuck her." Eww. "6 Months", a song extolling the virtues of safe sex, feels like a public service announcement; the beats are a Nickelodeon-spunky mélange of bright percussion and a conservatively funky bassline, and like... he's preaching about using a jimmy. A noble cause, I do not deny this, but the problem is, after establishing the moralistic-dad vibe, the next song on the record, "Toke and Poke", illustrates how Dr.Oop likes to smoke a little of the cheeba before he freaks it with his woman, and it comes off vaguely creepy. Dr.Oop's lyrics are tight, but nobody likes it when Dad talks about doin' the nasty with his "Pookie Bear".
