Rick Ross
Teflon Don
Rating: 3.0/5.0
Label: Def Jam
Not unlike Ice Cube with Halloween and Jay-Z with autumn, Rick Ross has become the rapper whom, every July, comes through with the soundtrack of the season. Since breaking out of the Miami scene in 2002 assisting Trina on “I Told Y’all” from the All About the Benjamins soundtrack and becoming a household name with 2006′s “Hustlin” off his debut Port of Miami, Ross has crafted a character for himself by tackling popular subject matter of the time and inserting Rick-isms, hinting at a personality that goes Deeper Than his Rap. His C.O. allegations aside, Ross has raised a profile simply from saying and doing things his contemporaries won’t. From his borderline non sequitur braggadocio (the face-value no double-entendre of “She used to fight with her moms/ So I sat them both down, now she tight with her moms” where he brags about his conflict resolution skills off 2008′s Trilla) to being a mammoth of a man, still photographed regularly with his shirt off, he’s managed to separate himself enough from the pack to cement his identity as an upper-tier bankable hip-hop brand. Persona aside, he’s unquestionably had the best ear for beats in the past half-decade. Between that and his gift for choosing the right guest appearances on the right songs, his success is just as rooted in rap fans seeing his albums as some of the last surefire bets left. As another Tuesday in July approaches, fans are anticipating Ross keeping his record unblemished with Teflon Don. Sadly, the results aren’t quite as strong.
The major difference between Teflon Don and Ross’ previous releases is that, if his boasting is to be believed, this is his first outing recording without writing anything down. Yes, this means Ross “Jay-Z’d” an entire album, presumably hoping his unfiltered charisma translates into as much success as his written word. It’s a noticeable shift as, since his memorable appearance on the remix of the Game’s “One Blood” in 2006, where he boasted he “keeps white in the office – Jerry Heller,” he’s been gradually gaining more respect as a writer with each release. Instead, because of this stream-of-conscious nature, lines that would have once been enjoyed as mere eccentricities are now the clearest picture of the man ever painted. I don’t require my art to fall in line with a certain morality or demand my artists never contradict themselves, but to find out Ross (on “Tears of Joy”) feels he’s “gotta represent for Emmitt Till” and two tracks later (on “Live Fast, Die Young”), proclaim,”Haiti children dying around the clock nigga/ I’d send 100 grand but that’s a decent watch nigga” is a bit of a jump for one of the last rappers in the Twitter-era to still have a cloud of mystery around himself, especially when Diddy boasts he was “first one to write a check after the earthquake.” When Sean Combs out-humanitarians you on record, it’s jarring to say the least.
But nobody listens to Ross for his moral compass. Fortunately, his beat selection is as on-point as ever. Just as Deeper Than Rap sounded like an improved second-draft of Jay-Z’s 2007 American Gangster, Teflon Don’s bombastic polished production achieves the epic soundscape Young Jeezy’s The Recession attempted, but with a momentum and brevity that makes it much more effective. As for the guest appearances, they’re more of a grab bag than a trophy shelf. Jay-Z turns in- no exaggeration- his far-and-away best performance since his 2006 return on “Free Mason,” shooting down the absurdity of conspiracy theories. Lox members Jadakiss and Styles P also offer up great returns-to-form on “B.M.F.” and “Maybach Music III.” However, unlike his other releases, many of these collaborations transparently sound like cross-country Pro Tools sessions. Cee-Lo sounds horribly out-of-place supplying the hook on “Tears of Joy” and the usually dependable Gucci Mane turns in a verse on “MC Hammer” that’s not only uninspired but sounds like it was recorded through a wet telephone.
Yes, Rick Ross has a song named “MC Hammer” and it represents everything that works and doesn’t work about Teflon Don. He raps from the perspective of MC Hammer, calling on all of Hammer’s trademarks and hardships to run parallels with the rich drug-dealer life. On one hand, it’s amazing this song even exists, and it wouldn’t without Ross’ newly-found freestyle recording process. However, producer Lex Luger’s approach to this method results in each verse being clearly pieced together from the best moments of Ross’ best takes. At least, the effort is present there to make the session resemble some semblance of a song. Elsewhere, “I’m Not a Star” and “Tears of Joy” sound like he’s reading off a brainstorming session. While it’s sometimes entertaining, an entire album of it is a step backward for the black Joe Fleishaker. Still, Teflon Don has enough fantastic production and passable-to-great rapping to make it worth recommending. While it won’t gain him any new fans, Ross loyalists will be pleased.
by Chaz Kangas
