"Pro Tools" by GZA/Genius

(Babygrande Records)

As opposed to more visible Wu-Tang Clan members, GZA isn't prone to grandiose releases like Method Man's spectacular solo failures and Ghostface's uneven biannual twenty-track epics. He's also less extraterrestrial than co-founding crony RZA, keeping one foot in the rap game while the other rests comfortably in the stylized Staten Island of the Wu's Shaolin. His '95 classic Liquid Swords thrilled fans of the latter universe with its kung fu samples, Five Percenters mythologistics and bounteous RZA production, while recent releases have been mostly earthbound, with albums since 1999's Beneath The Surface remaining, for better or worse, in some sort of dialogue with the prevailing trends of independent and mainstream rap. GZA doesn't capitulate to the mediocre tyranny of rap's indie and commercial factions though, but records his creative, rippling, effortless rhymes on some distant planet in the DMZ between the universes of commercial compromise and indie obscurantism, a planet all his own that still flies the Wu's iron flag proudly (if not so prominently as before).

This sixth GZA album features only two RZA beats (and one terrific verse on the closest Pro Tools comes to the often compulsory Wu posse cut, the awesome 'Pencils') but they're among the album's many highlights. The first single, the 50 Cent-dissing 'Paper Plate' (does 50 even merit dissing anymore, especially by someone so unambiguously more talented?), is a moody gem with GZA letting loose for nearly three uninterrupted minutes while RZA layers then peels off various drum, synth and chime samples. Other producers do good by GZA, with the MC's breathless cross-country car-themed narrative matched wonderfully by Jose "Choco" Reynoso's pumping guitar and brass on the thrilling '0% Finance', and exchanging rhymes with his son Justice Kareem on Bronze Nazareth's booming, nostalgic 'Groundbreaking'. The soulful 'Alphabets' and chopped up '7 Pounds' keep Pro Tools's first half exciting, with GZA treating the wild sampling of soundscapes like a lyrical lab wherein he makes good on each successive experiment. The second half slows noticeably ('Firehouse' and 'Path of Destruction' are merely decent on an album with a high average), though a sudden thematic shift makes for a triumphant ending built around two movie-themed tracks. First, GZA applies his storytelling skills to the horror genre on the whispered creeper 'Cinema', then RZA closes things off (save a serviceable live bonus track) with 'Life is a Movie', a dramatic, steadily mounting rock mash-up. Like some of its best tracks, Pro Tools is short and satisfying (over half the songs last three minutes or less), proof for those who can find this isolated planet (and those who've lived there for years) that GZA is among the most consistently great MCs around.

A similar version of this review appears in The L Magazine, and can be read here.