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- Jun 2, 2007
CAM'RON
Public Enemy #1
(Mixtape)
Some musicians release new albums the old-fashioned way, through record shops. Some musicians release albums the new-fangled way, through the Internet. Andthen there's the Harlem rapper Cam'ron, whose new distribution strategy makes Radiohead seem downright stodgy.Fans who wanted to hear his long-awaited double CD, "Public Enemy #1," were told to gather outside the Apollo Theater in Harlemon Wednesday night. Eventually a Range Rover painted pink (formerly Cam'ron's signature color) pulled up, and although Cam'ron himself wasapparently nowhere in sight, fans got what they wanted: more than two hours of new music on two free CDs, and a good story to tell too. Rarely has the term"street date" been more appropriate.
Cam'ron is funnier and more obstreperous than 50 Cent is (or was?), and he has a similartalent for making himself the center of attention, even when he's not making music. He followed his 2004 masterpiece, "Purple Haze"(Roc-A-Fella/Island Def Jam), with a pugnacious 2006 CD called, "Killa Season" (Diplomatic/Atlantic), which generated no real hits but kept peopletalking. Feuds with Jay-Z (who never responded) and 50 Cent (whodid) heightened the intrigue, as did his strained relationship with Jim Jones, a former protégé.
He gave an infamous interview to "60 Minutes" in April, during which he expounded upon his anti-snitching ethos, going so far as to claim hewouldn't turn in the hypothetical serial killer next-door. ("I'd probably move," he said, and who wouldn't?) His record companywasn't amused, and he swiftly apologized without recanting.
Then, over the summer, he did something truly shocking: He disappeared, more or less, leaving in his wake a few cryptic online videos that prompted lots ofclose readings. Was he sick? Scared? Finished?
"Public Enemy #1" begins with a spoken monologue that answers these questions, sort of. Cam'ron denounces the rumors. "Foolishness,buffoonery, hogwash," he calls them, with typical understatement. He also holds forth on his car collection, his run-ins with the police (he claimsofficers were keeping tabs on him by tracking his YouTube videos) and his summertime leave of absence. ("I had a family emergency," he says.) Wordnerds and hip-hop fiends rejoice: Cam'ron is back.
The new mixtape (which is widely available free online, though completists can buy a physical copy from dipsetmixtapes.com) finds Cam'ron in a relatively good mood: less exuberant than he was on "Purple Haze" but less grim thanhe was on "Killa Season." Now, as then, he pushes tough talk past its logical conclusion, using a gruff voice to deliver deadpan lyrics full ofunexpected references and unlikely rhymes, often anchored by two stressed syllables near the end of each line.
He's not afraid to repeat words if he needs to: "We drive several coupes: grape, orange, cherry coupes/Girls ball like Sheryl Swoopes, dudes hustleon every stoop." And part of the fun is the suspense of waiting for what's coming next, even if (thanks to multiple listenings) you already know:"I got my sewing kit: the streets, I done creased and hemmed 'em/Man, them buildings wasn't vacant - we condemned 'em."
Like most mixtapes this one is padded out with rhymes from protégés, though Jim Jones and Juelz Santana (the two most popular members of Cam'ron'screw, the Diplomats, known as Dip Set) are conspicuously absent. Instead a handful of tracks are given over to Tom Gist and Penz, heretofore obscure rapperswho reverse the usual template. On this mixtape it's the rookies who provide earnest verses about ghetto misery and the veteran who sounds brash andheedless, delivering one taunt after another.
So: cut out the protégés' songs, the introductions (the second CD has one too) and the skits (one concerning excretory hygiene, one concerningcockroaches, neither unfunny), you're still left with 29 tracks of Cam'ron, which is more than enough to make "Public Enemy #1" one of themost exciting events of the hip-hop year.
He clearly relishes his scurrilous image (in one song, he quotes his "Nana" delivering her verdict: "Boy, you's a hot mess"), but asusual he finds sneaky ways to encourage the thought that he's nicer than he pretends to be. "Just Us" is his version of a love song, completewith tinkling keyboards (swiped from Journey's "Don't Stop Believing") and lyrics about a woman who's trying to forget her tough life fora night. He gets her high, though he would never say it that plainly: "She said she hate a pusher, I said, 'I hate a booger - /a snotty attitude,'she laughed, I purple hazed and kushed her." And for a moment this crotchety loudmouth seems - well, he seems like a slightly-less-crotchety loudmouth.Would it be ungrateful, or greedy, to demand a new album, and soon?
Public Enemy #1
(Mixtape)
Some musicians release new albums the old-fashioned way, through record shops. Some musicians release albums the new-fangled way, through the Internet. Andthen there's the Harlem rapper Cam'ron, whose new distribution strategy makes Radiohead seem downright stodgy.Fans who wanted to hear his long-awaited double CD, "Public Enemy #1," were told to gather outside the Apollo Theater in Harlemon Wednesday night. Eventually a Range Rover painted pink (formerly Cam'ron's signature color) pulled up, and although Cam'ron himself wasapparently nowhere in sight, fans got what they wanted: more than two hours of new music on two free CDs, and a good story to tell too. Rarely has the term"street date" been more appropriate.
Cam'ron is funnier and more obstreperous than 50 Cent is (or was?), and he has a similartalent for making himself the center of attention, even when he's not making music. He followed his 2004 masterpiece, "Purple Haze"(Roc-A-Fella/Island Def Jam), with a pugnacious 2006 CD called, "Killa Season" (Diplomatic/Atlantic), which generated no real hits but kept peopletalking. Feuds with Jay-Z (who never responded) and 50 Cent (whodid) heightened the intrigue, as did his strained relationship with Jim Jones, a former protégé.
He gave an infamous interview to "60 Minutes" in April, during which he expounded upon his anti-snitching ethos, going so far as to claim hewouldn't turn in the hypothetical serial killer next-door. ("I'd probably move," he said, and who wouldn't?) His record companywasn't amused, and he swiftly apologized without recanting.
Then, over the summer, he did something truly shocking: He disappeared, more or less, leaving in his wake a few cryptic online videos that prompted lots ofclose readings. Was he sick? Scared? Finished?
"Public Enemy #1" begins with a spoken monologue that answers these questions, sort of. Cam'ron denounces the rumors. "Foolishness,buffoonery, hogwash," he calls them, with typical understatement. He also holds forth on his car collection, his run-ins with the police (he claimsofficers were keeping tabs on him by tracking his YouTube videos) and his summertime leave of absence. ("I had a family emergency," he says.) Wordnerds and hip-hop fiends rejoice: Cam'ron is back.
The new mixtape (which is widely available free online, though completists can buy a physical copy from dipsetmixtapes.com) finds Cam'ron in a relatively good mood: less exuberant than he was on "Purple Haze" but less grim thanhe was on "Killa Season." Now, as then, he pushes tough talk past its logical conclusion, using a gruff voice to deliver deadpan lyrics full ofunexpected references and unlikely rhymes, often anchored by two stressed syllables near the end of each line.
He's not afraid to repeat words if he needs to: "We drive several coupes: grape, orange, cherry coupes/Girls ball like Sheryl Swoopes, dudes hustleon every stoop." And part of the fun is the suspense of waiting for what's coming next, even if (thanks to multiple listenings) you already know:"I got my sewing kit: the streets, I done creased and hemmed 'em/Man, them buildings wasn't vacant - we condemned 'em."
Like most mixtapes this one is padded out with rhymes from protégés, though Jim Jones and Juelz Santana (the two most popular members of Cam'ron'screw, the Diplomats, known as Dip Set) are conspicuously absent. Instead a handful of tracks are given over to Tom Gist and Penz, heretofore obscure rapperswho reverse the usual template. On this mixtape it's the rookies who provide earnest verses about ghetto misery and the veteran who sounds brash andheedless, delivering one taunt after another.
So: cut out the protégés' songs, the introductions (the second CD has one too) and the skits (one concerning excretory hygiene, one concerningcockroaches, neither unfunny), you're still left with 29 tracks of Cam'ron, which is more than enough to make "Public Enemy #1" one of themost exciting events of the hip-hop year.
He clearly relishes his scurrilous image (in one song, he quotes his "Nana" delivering her verdict: "Boy, you's a hot mess"), but asusual he finds sneaky ways to encourage the thought that he's nicer than he pretends to be. "Just Us" is his version of a love song, completewith tinkling keyboards (swiped from Journey's "Don't Stop Believing") and lyrics about a woman who's trying to forget her tough life fora night. He gets her high, though he would never say it that plainly: "She said she hate a pusher, I said, 'I hate a booger - /a snotty attitude,'she laughed, I purple hazed and kushed her." And for a moment this crotchety loudmouth seems - well, he seems like a slightly-less-crotchety loudmouth.Would it be ungrateful, or greedy, to demand a new album, and soon?
