It is as if his 1994 debut »Remain Anonymous« was to become a self-fulfilling prophecy – Ras Kass, who is 37 by now, will probably remain to be the biggest problem child within the kindergarten of rap. He delayed more releases than the G-Unit-Rooster, made worse business decisions than Michael Jordan did as a team-manager, and constant conflicts with his colleagues and with the law closed the doors of fame in the face of your favorite rapper’s favorite rapper more than once. In addition, »Beatpicking« has never really been Razzy’s strength, either, which is why the kind of division of labor as shown on »Blasphemy« has come in handy for him. In order to revitalize the Goldyn Chyld’s street poetry, it basically took the conservative and solid taste of Apollo Brown – who has pretty much become something like a boom-bap anesthesiologist for ailing rap-legends. »Please don’t let me fuck mine off«, as the eternal talent wails due to the never-boring »Misunderstood«-Flip. And still, as part of the »Grumpy Old Men«, he can’t help himself when it comes to teasing Macklemore, radio stations and the music industry as a whole. Those involved know that he has always been the link between street-sweepers and real-keepers, long before the hippies were »black«– »Westcoast-Lyricist, the Hendrix/ I was Kendrick before Kendrick«. The eternal talent is flowing on top of the 15 tracks, and he is using the kind of quotables that have kept him the credits amongst insiders for 17 (!) years now. »Blasphemy« is no instant classic, but it proves once again that a failing rap star’s ultimate hideaway lies within the surroundings of traditional soul-samples.
Amine Laje
Datsha
Rotary Phono Lab