What’s the definition of a Pyroclastic Flow?
That’s what happens when a volcano blow [sic]
That’s what happens when Ice Cube starts to flow
Red hot lava mixed with salava [sic]
Pulverizing everything in its wake
Nothin’ can survive a Pyroclastic Flow
And no one will survive this one…
- Pyroclastic Flow, track one from Raw Footage
I'm still waiting for the third part of the Are We ...Yet? trilogy
Someone needs to tell Ice Cube to stop listening to Jay-Z if all it can inspire him to do is rip-off one of Jay’s opening tracks (Intro from American Gangster, which – in a similar-sounding deep-voiced narrative – tells us what “defines a gangster”). I still don’t know what a Pyroclastic Flow is, but I do know that I don’t really give a fuck.
Raw Footage is a by-the-numbers rap album, which is dispiriting considering its creator was a driving force behind one of the greatest hip-hop groups of all-time. I wasn’t expecting anything mind-blowing, but I was expecting something competent.
For starters, ignoring the music itself for a moment, it must be said that it’s a bit hard to take Ice Cube’s resurrection of his gangsta rap image seriously when he’s busy cross-promoting his new family sports film, The Longshots, directed by the least intimidating man to ever roam the planet, Fred Durst (yes, that Fred Durst). The album cover is about as unintentionally funny as when Michael Jackson pulled the bad boy pose (in leather!) for Bad. (But at least Michael actually had a good album to front.)
All of this gangsta posing and its outdated thug mentality would be okay if the material itself were strong enough to justify looking the other way, but everything here — from production to flow — sounds amateurish and half-assed. The backing vocals on “I Got My Locs On” are a bit too familiar — instantly reminding me of those chanting Aboroginals on David Hasselhoff’s ill-fated “Hooked on a Feeling” cover, I started to instinctively mumble, “Ooga chucka, ooga chucka, ooga chucka.”
The deep-voiced Darth Vader impersonator from Pyro Flow returns again on “Hood Mentality,” another one of the disc’s dull beats. Did Cube make this in Garage Band? I’m sure I’ve heard that backing orchestration before.
The album has about three good songs — “It Takes a Nation,” “Take Me Away”, and “Get Money, Spend Money, No Money” (the last of which has a title that almost seems self-consciously oblique — perhaps even ironic — before you start hearing the lyrics and realize Ice Cube thinks he’s actually making a revelatory statement here by telling us taking money to spend money is a vicious cycle).
The lyrics of course contain numerous references to Obama, the concept of which got old before I was even done with Nas’ last album (which was better than this one). At least Nas’ song also had references to Springsteen and Dylan. Ice Cube opts instead for Terminator references, name-dropping Sarah Connor and Arnold Schwarzenegger (I won’t speculate on why he chose to refer to Arnie by his real name and Linda Hamilton by her character’s name, but laziness might be a factor).
But the biggest crime here is just how flat and uninspired Ice Cube actually sounds. Those N.W.A. records and even his early solo work had a sense of righteous anger, frustration, and power. You have to wonder if hanging out with those kids for Are We There Yet? rendered him somewhat retarded, because this isn’t the Ice Cube I remember, and certainly not one I’d want to remember, either.
2/5
