Masta Ace Sweats It Out Over A Long Hot Summer (ISYMIYSMY W/O)

With creativity, depth, meaning and relevance becoming more and more like a revolving door in the music industry, hip-hop is quickly increasing its pace on the path to becoming a disposable art. The things that would’ve gotten hung in effigy and set afire in the game 5, 6 years ago are the things heralded as instant smashes today. And as the culture of hip-hop becomes more and more saturated with banality, the aspect of it with some genuine artistic substance struggles and gasps for room to breathe.

Such artistic displacement left one of hip-hop’s most legendary, underrated and unknown emcees feeling disillusioned with the industry and disinterested in continuing his recording career. And thus Masta Ace issued forth his purported swan song, A Long Hot Summer, two summers ago to critical acclaim. Part concept album, part career retrospective, part seminal hip-hop, Summer only furthered Ace’s legacy as one of hip-hop’s premier urban legends and allowed him to gracefully bow out with a bang.

Essentially, the album is one long story executed in rap format. Ace, here, plays “Ace”, his alter ego of sorts. He hooks up with the neighborhood scam artist, Fats Belvedere, to execute a get-rich-quick scheme that would’ve fattened their pockets over the summer. Unfortunately, the duo got busted in a hotel room and were quickly locked up, leaving Ace to regale his cellmate with his story.

And right away, Ace delivers a one-two punch with the opening duo, Big City and Good Ol’ Love. On the former, over a slick bass-boom courtesy of Dug Infinite, Ace highlights how some of his friends in the ’hood have to resort to less-than-legal methods in order to support themselves. On the latter, 9th Wonder’s trademark boom-bap supports Ace’s tale of how he decided to opt for rocking the mic as a means of support and essentially s-h-i-t on his less-talented peers in the process.

From there, Ace slowly starts to get a little vitriol in his system, starting with Da Grind , where he subtly expresses his frustration at being the only component oiling the machine promoting, managing, and furthering his career. H.O.O.D. turns up the emotion, due in part to Nostradamus’ string-laden sample, as Ace details both the pride and exasperation he feels behind the beautiful struggle of life in the ghetto. Koolade manages to simmer down the mood with his sleek faux-horn and toe-tap drumkit supporting Ace’s description of the small and overlooked things bringing such a Beautiful scenery to the ‘hood. But things quickly kick back into high gear with the self-explanatory F.A.Y. (Fu*k All Y’all).

The creativity is kicked up a notch on the brilliant Soda and Soap as Ace weaves numerous name-brand beverages and cleaning agents into his own exercised idea of what it really means to go “pop”. Do It Man is the pedantic, obligatory tale of ‘hood violence that serves no real purpose but to bridge the gap between “Soda” and BKLYN Masala; an ingenious recollection of Ace’s international affair with an enchanting Sindhi woman from Pakistan only enhanced by Ace’s slick, romanticizing wordplay and Xplicit’s hypnotic production.

Travelocity is essentially the fluid, underground version of “Pimpin’ All Over The World” and The Ways is essentially a condensed audio version of “How To Get Ahead In The Music Industry”; major tip #1: literally kicking a-s-s will get you to the top much faster. Wutuwankno is basically a 4:11 recollection of Ace’s career thus far, designed to educate the unaware on his beginnings and evolution and clear up any misconceptions held by his loyal followers. OMYGOD! is his one brief excursion to the club, with the Beatnuts and Rahzel, in tow being led by a cartoonish flute and anemic tambourines.

And all of the aforementioned pretty much pales in comparison to the grand finale: Revelations. Ace mans the boards himself for this finale and basically sums up his album and his career in this compact 3:50 package that has a somber bassline (that I swear sounds like a hybrid of Jim Croce and Pink Floyd) by explaining both his reasons for retiring from the mic and his hopes for the legacy he’s left behind.

If A Long Hot Summer is Masta Ace’s true swan song than it’s safe to say he truly went out with a bang. The production was fluid and the clear-eyed, introspective lyricism showcased him at his brightest. But hopefully, as rumors swirl, Ace is just organizing his own label so that he can relaunch his career on his own terms. Hip-Hop is in desperate need of some conscious lyricists with the stimulating rhymes for one’s intellect and soul and Ace definitely has a spot on the line of those in the underground destined to break through if he so chooses to reclaim it.

Otherwise, with Hip-Hop becoming more concerned with jewel-encrusted teeth, confectionary treats, camera phones, pool palaces, and all things Reggaeton, and more talent-less emcees infecting the airwaves with trite mediocrity, it looks like it’s going to be yet another long hot summer.

Proving the old adage “better late than never” true, this is my entry into MattA75’s 6th Annual I’ll Show You Mines If You Show Me Yours (W/O). Good times.

Price Listing:
1. The Count ($.n/a)
2. Big City* ($3.00)
3. Good Ol’ Life ($2.00)
4. Fats Belvedere ($.n/a)
5. Da Grind* feat. Apocalypse ($3.00)
6. H.O.O.D. ($1.50)
7. The Stoop ($.00)
8. Beautiful* ($3.00)
9. F.A.Y. feat. Strick ($2.00)
10. Fats Crib ($.n/a)
11. Soda and Soap* feat. Jean Grae ($3.00)
12. Do It Man feat. Big Noyd ($.00)
13. BKLYN Masala* feat. Leschea ($3.00)
14. The Proposition ($n/a)
15. Travelocity feat. Punch & Words ($2.50)
16. The Ways ($1.50)
17. Wutuwankno feat. Edo G. ($2.00)
18. The After Party ($n/a)
19. OMYGOD! feat. The Beatnuts & Rahzel ($2.00)
20. Cellmate ($n/a)
21. Revelations* ($3.00)
22. Outtakes ($n/a)

Whisperscream’s Inflated Dollars & Sense
Retail Price: $12.98
Album Worth: $31.50

REAL WORLD CURRENCY CONVERTER:

$30-35 = An Audio Mirage In The Midst of the Swelteringly Medicore Summer Heat!!

Great Music to Play While: wondering why everyone else is late to Matt’s party.