[url=/artists/110993.htm]Wu-Tang Clan[/url]'s most soulful lyrical acrobat returns with mostly quality gear...
Ghost’s most appealing quality is a sensitive,
vulnerable side which few of his Wu compadres, never mind rappers in general, risk exposing without a
qualifying macho swagger. Take G-funk smooch ‘Never Be
The Same’, a pure bleeding-heart lovesick yarn
featuring Raekwon and Carl Thomas. Ghost is a straight
soulman at times, but more Marvin Gaye than Barry
White, even on oiled-up shagfests like the scented
porno-groove of ‘Strawberries’ or the silk-sheet
seduction saga ‘Love Session’.
Deep inside these
agonising, sincere, cheese-free R&B shuffles it is
sometimes easy to forget that we are in the Wu-Tang
warzone. But elsewhere, the body armour gets a full
workout, on propulsive military hood-raps like
‘Hilton’ or the squalling juggernaut lollop of ‘Juks
(Pop Your Collar)’, where Ghost warns [I]”you’re fucking
with the metaphor kingpin”[/I] while his splendidly named lieutenants Trife and Superb watch his back.
‘Bulletproof Wallets’ is a solid album, not as lively
as the Killah’s 1996 solo debut ‘Ironman’, but more
consistent than last year’s ‘Supreme Clientele’.
The production is assured, never falling back on
clipped, clichéd, off-beat Wu-loops. Ghost‘s lyrics
are always worth a second and third listen too: [I]”We
laptop niggaz,”[/I] he booms at one point, [I]”like a Wesley
Snipes movie on a Sunday in Bermuda”[/I]. Right you are, Ghostie, me old mate.
Only one serious gripe: where is the nifty Isaac Hayes
duet from the US-released album? Huh? Otherwise, hats
off to the metaphor kingpin, the sultan of simile and
quite possibly the wonderful wizard of allegorical