aekwon has always been the most bullish member of the Wu; aggressive, arrogant and increasingly independent as he became bolstered by the praise for his debut Only Built for Cuban Linx, admittedly one of the greatest hip-hop LPs ever. The vinyl definition of a hungry MC, Rae threw everything he had at making his mark, spelling out his manifesto on its first track “Striving for Perfection”; to make one last all out attempt at the big deal, the classic LP. Handpicking his beats from RZA’s pre-flood Aladdin’s Basement, Rae presented incredible material track after track.

But since 1995, Raekwon’s ego orbit has spun him increasingly into internal friction with the Wu; specifically RZA. He publicly dissed the Bobby Digital production style refusing to rhyme over it and he was the first to deal shit on ODB when he signed to the Roc. Believing the hype, his second release Immobilarity didn’t feature either the production of RZA or his lyrical other half, Ghostface and it rightly sank like a fibre packed shite. Looking back it must sting knowing that he was on his way down as he wrote ‘RIP 50 Cent’ in the sleeve notes in retaliation for 50’s “How to Rob an Industry Nigga”, the track that began his ascent into the industry.

Whilst many critically greased up MCs undoubtedly have superior technical abilities, Rae raps with a slippery undulating velocity that few can match without descending into jibber-jabber or spluttering. The excitingly dense slang (it’s so personally evolved it’s not even fair to call it ebonics) of his vivid descriptive narratives manage to lift even average lyrical themes into pieces worthy of further investigation.

It’s admirable that even after the dullness of his last LP, he’s refused the easy option of picking a big name producer for the lead single to push him back into the spotlight. He should’ve be taking submissions from producers like Premier, Havoc, Fredwreck and Alchemist, not because of their status, but because of their proven skills. The only decent track on the abandoned public lavatory of Immobilarity was Pete Rock’s “Sneakers”, the rest of the LP was done by Raekwon’s cronies. His excuses for not using RZA for beats here are unsatisfyingly feeble (sample clearances and a misplaced reel), and it’s possible that, in using a bunch of relatively untested unknowns to produce the tracks, he had hoped to keep the focus on him.

Coming out of the gate to “Pit Bull Fights”, after a very silly Mafioso intro, is a fumbled opening. At under two minutes long, there is barely time to appreciate Raekwon before we are introduced to his half-witted crew, Ice Water Inc. Most commercial hip-hop artists set themselves up as part of a cipher, both to open up the game to their friends and to spread their empire one stage further, it does pay to fill it with talented MCs though. There is little point in being the best in a group if everyone thinks the group are just a bunch of towel carrying intermission hypemen; Eminem has the horrendously underrated Proof, Ghostface has Trife in his Theodore Unit and even 50 Cent has talent in the form of Lloyd Banks in his much maligned G-Unit. On this LP, all his non Wu-Tang affiliated collaborative choices seem to be deliberately awkward and poor; why on earth choose the whiny Capone over Noreaga on “Planet of the Apes”? And where did he find the tedious hum of Tiffany Villarreal for his serious, almost conscious hip-hop style love song to his hometown on “The Hood”? Rae and Mobb Deep have turned in some incredible collaborations in the past (“Eye for an Eye” and “Nighttime Vultures”) so the point of using Havoc to drop a verse, instead of dropping a beat, is beyond me. Luckily “King of Kings” producer Crummie manages to approximate a sinister Mobb string sample, but even still it ambles along without much interest. “Wylde in the Club” and “Ice Cream 2” are both such utter junk that you wouldn’t even catch Chingy or Fabolous queuing for these beats.

It’s the touches of Wu which make half this LP a cut above your average hip-hop. From the reminiscing about the good ol’ days of early Wu and being a humble crack dealer on the Blaze-esque accelerated soul of “All Over Again” to the rough vocals and the exposed Ironman-style beat on the Miss Marple intrigue of “Missing Watch”, this album does have some quality moments. But even Ghostface missteps here, taking it one step too far on “Clientele Kids” which runs a RZA ripped piano loop under his unnecessarily OTT torture descriptions. And, when Ghost makes mistakes, you know you’re in trouble. Despite having a bad b-movie title, “Muskateers of Pig Alley” should’ve been the template for the sound of this LP; stripped, lean, dark, powerful and not really arsed with the whole needing a hook business. This killer simple beat features Rae, Masta Killa and Inspectah Deck doing what they do, sounding fresh and interested in spitting, devoid of melody except for the occasional bass punch, concentrating on the MCs and the riveting flow ripped straight from the days of 36 Chambers. The last real track (the outro is a grating mafia soliloquy) is very unlike the Raekwon of old, or indeed the Raekwon on the rest of this LP, “Once Upon a Time” acts as a sort of sequel to his own “Rainy Dayz”. This time it features more input from the female perspective (acquired taste Wu vocalist Tekitha), while Raekwon drops a verse to open and close the track. The backing track consists of a lonely reverbed piano, regulation hip-hop beat and some kind of passing melody/riff which could be either be a car alarm out on the street, a passing ambulance or just weird noise the producer threw into the mix. If only this LP could pull on these emotions more often. But instead, what we have is merely an improvement from the embarrassment of Immobilarity- but not much more than that.