GutterPutter

The last time I have done a full review on Nas is on King’s Disease II where, with Hit-Boy as his featured producer, he manages to churn out some very impressive tracks like ‘Nobody’ with friend Lauryn Hill. His surprise release Magic shines bright on his lyrical talent even if I do not find it to have the same level of excitement, yet many of his fans deemed it to be a masterpiece in his discography. The rest of his records, I either find to solid, mediocre, or tacky – a pretty wide variety.

Throughout his life as a critic’s go-to rapper for the rhythmic poetry part of rap, Nas’s career has always struggled to find an opening to get a breather from his debut Illmatic’s legacy. Critics after critics fawned over it for its innovation & capacity to have the emcee’s rapping style age like fine wine over its technicality. Fictions were written with the album as inspiration, praises were heaped on its poetic value, stages were designed in venues purely for a full album live performance. There were even scholarly books which deals with the album and its contexts around politics and black American communities.

Thus, when King’s Disease III is dropped, there’s a certain relief about how it truly holds up on its own. One key compliments that many would often raise up on is how Nas has sparked the wave of ageing rappers dropping LPs with an introspective reflection about their fame, wealth, and personal lives. While 2012’s Life is Good enjoys a fair bit of acclaim as among his best releases, I don’t think anyone would expect it to be refined further without sacrificing its flexibility and its sophistications.

You might have tracks that might feel like a mismatch in its bars like ‘WTF SMH’ over its acronyms, but the record feels like a solid foil to the very beginning. The decision to stick with Hit-boy as his sole producer leaves Nasir Jones with a good variety of beats from soulful in ‘First Time’ to boom bap in R&B-based in ‘Once a Man, Twice a Child’ to even solid instances of trap like ‘Michael & Quincy’. The subject matters are also diverse with rivalry and conflicts such as in ‘Beef’, braggadocio in ‘Get Light’, nostalgia in ‘Recession Proof’, or classic introspection in ‘Ghetto Reporter’. What it lacks in conceptual focus, Nas definitely makes it up for his pure and utmost drive to prove one thing – he’s still got it. He doesn’t need to make a high art statement about society or focus on making as much money as possible, but he does manage to prove one thing and it’s that he’s one of the most talented rappers of all time.

Lyricism has always been Nas’s selling point all the way throughout his career and this album is no exception. As much as he likes to refer back to his Examples as to how that’s proven is through vibrant imageries in ‘First Time’ with “First time you heard of Nas, I pro’ly was under some pressure/ Gun in the dresser while you was baggin’ up in the kitchen playin’ my records”. Myth-birthing rhetorics were present in ‘I’m on Fire’ with “how many Nasirs? How many top tier? How many not here?”. ‘ 30’ sees filthy flows flourishing as Nas rhymes “creature” with “divas”, “beaches”, “even”, “see us”, and “pieces” in 15 seconds over a clear depiction of how he muses over his success. Never one to stray from epic musings, he manages to navigate through an action-packed recollection of his past to how everything changes in the present in ‘Thun’. Someone better tell Jay-Z that the beef’s not fully squashed yet.

Thus, King’s Disease III is, to put it simply, a very big deal in Nas’s career. For the first time, it feels like the mainstream audience will need to admit that the Queens-borne emcee still has full control of his skills and while an argument could be made that he does try to go commercial, this album shows that he’s no longer afraid of hiding. At this point of his career, he manages to achieve everything that anyone could ask for like being a multi-millionaire, children that he loves very much, and a precedent that few could only wish to live up to. Once, his career falters in light of insurmountable expectations and perceived inconsistency. Now, he sends the message that while he might never make a work that rivals his debut, he does have what it takes to at least remind everyone that he’s a damn good artist in the end no matter the amount of washed-up-artist conclusions. To put it in his words from ‘Don’t Shoot’, “Your mindset is your vaccine for every disease… Don’t kill the messenger.”