Second Chance
Wu-Tang Clan
Wu-Tang Forever
1997
Bands are inevitably judged by the debut album- it’s a mission statement, breakthrough and labor of love all in one. But what of the sophomore album? Often dismissed as filler albums, does the second release really deserve that? Our ongoing series takes another look at albums that may or may not deserve a second chance.
It’s come to my attention that I sometimes allow my musical preferences to become narrow; indeed, readers have asked me: “Why so much Brit Pop, Nathan? Why so much Anglophilia? Why does your musical knowledge seem to stop at 1996?” And loyal readers, you are right to question. I gotta expand: this bird’s gotta fly.
Which brings me to Wu-Tang Forever. As sophomore albums go, it had a pretty tough job to do. The Wu-Tang Clan’s debut, Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers), is widely considered one of the finest albums of the 1990s and a crown jewel in hip hop’s canon. But Wu-Tang Forever? It’s certainly a difficult album, dense in every sense of the word. With over two hours of music, its 29 tracks practically throw the gauntlet down. Hindsight is always clear, but even upon its release, it must have been clear that RZA and company were loudly and defiantly proclaiming their dominance.
Of course, it’s difficult to call Wu-Tang Forever a second album. The very nature of the Clan and its phenomenally successful plan to conquer the world called for a whole slew of solo albums and an entire commercial market by the time this sophomore effort came around. Through that lens, the complexity of RZA’s production now seems less uncharacteristic and more the work of a crew reveling in their new found power and wealth. Iconoclastic and dirty as the simple beats and samples of Enter the Wu-Tang were, they appear to be less a manifesto and more the work of necessity; given a full toolbox, the sound of the Clan is all strings and layers.
Still, a fuller sound doesn’t make for easy listening. It’s a remarkable thing that the album became a #1 record across the world, considering how challenging and uncompromising it is. It opens with a nearly seven-minute rant that doesn’t feature even one of the crew, a mash of Fiver Percenter philosophy, singing and spoken word rambling. Even the single “Triumph” signals their peculiar DIY nature: a radio single over five minutes long with no chorus and no particular hook?
There’s a good reason Wu-Tang Forever was so successful: sheer quality. It’s simply a fantastic album. If it’s still overshadowed by the band’s monumental debut, that has more to do with Enter the Wu-Tang being a work of immortal genius (hey, I wonder if that Wu-Tang name has been taken yet) than any failings from this second effort. It’s also too much for a single sitting; while nothing feels dispensable on the album and there’s no filler at all, it’s also an exhausting listen. The MCs are near the top of their game; in particular, GZA’s flawless delivery is practically revelatory for this poor fool. The quiet man of the bunch, Inspectah Deck does a lot of the heavy lifting; reticent as the rapper is, he’s a link for the rest of the Clan. Whereas the Method Man has only his raspy style and Ghostface Killah has seemingly constant furious desperation in his voice, the Inspectah sacrifices personal style for delivery and competence.
That brings me to another point: Wu-Tang is a litmus test in some ways. Much like The Beatles, your preference of MC says a lot about your personality. Meth means you may enjoy green (and really, really bad movies), Masta Killa indicates your love of kung-fu and comic books and my own choice, Ol’ Dirty Bastard says, um… I really like ODB. He’s much less of a presence on Wu-Tang Forever than I’d like, although his characteristically cartoonish hook on “As High As Wu-Tang Gets” is a particular delight. Perhaps he had less to contribute, or perhaps he was busy getting arrested. Or saving little girls from car wrecks. Or smoking crack.
There’s too much on Wu-Tang Forever to sufficiently go into detail on every track, but even on an album without notable weaknesses, certain tracks do stand out.The sinister kung-fu sample of “Severe Punishment” is a straight classic, as is RZA’s lifting of George Clinton’s affirmation that “It’s just one nation under a groove/ Getting’ down for the funk of it.” If the main man lacks something in delivery, he’s definitely got the chutzpah to make up for it. But there’s more to the album than bravado and incredibly filthy non-sequiturs. The weary sentiment of “A Better Tomorrow” is perhaps indicative of the direction the Clan was moving in; the sampled piano, the title stolen from John Woo, the surprising tenderness of “You can’t party your life away…Cause your seeds grow up the same way.”
But Wu-Tang Forever is far from a sad album. Whatever else, RZA has always shown an almost superhuman self-confidence, one that’s largely been vindicated and rewarded by time. It’s always going to take second place to the debut, and rightly so, but there’s a reason the single was called “Triumph.”
by Nathan Kamal
