GZA Serves Spicy Lyrics, Stale Production

GZA

Legend of the Liquid Sword
3 Stars

It's funny how musical ground-breakers can more or less disappear.

Meanwhile, mediocre pretenders and usurpers stick around longer than should be possible by cosmic law.

The first half of the '90s set the stage for hip hop's immense commercial success, both sonically and in terms of scope. Yet the Wu-Tang Clan, one of the foremost purveyors of that success, has been largely lost in the undertow of the last decade's trends in rap.

At the helm of the Wu's attack was the GZA, or the Genius, who co-founded the group. As the collective began to lose focus throughout the '90s, he went on to have the most consistent solo career. His latest release, Legend of the Liquid Sword, is a cinematic, conceptual album fraught with the Wu's ubiquitous theme -- hip hop as the stuff of epic.

"Auto Bio" leads off the record with GZA's booming flow chronicling his career before and after the Wu-Tang universe. The track's spare instrumentation, centered on string swells and a slithering piano line, is reminiscent of Wu's trademark sinister sound.

The single "Knock, Knock" features tense yet bouncy production with the GZA taking stabs at music, business, politics and the degree to which they have assimilated hip hop. A great deal of the rapper's lyrical energy on the album is directed against his industry.

His longtime partners RZA and Masta Killa make guest appearances on "Fam (Members Only)," bringing their word-twisting visual rhymes to the track. This cut is evocative of the last Wu-Tang Clan release, 2001's Iron Flag.

Sound-wise, the album's best song is the title track. GZA boasts of his near-divine lyrical prowess over interlocking loops of piping synth sounds and guitar licks as Allen Anthony sings the hook with a smooth, Ronald Isley-like flavor.

Overall, Legend of the Liquid Sword finds the GZA and the Wu-Tang mystique at a crossroads.

Some emcees have become overly ambitious musically, letting the background noise overshadow their flow. But a number of artists from the Wu-Tang roster have fallen into the opposite trap, consistently lacing their well-honed lyrical skills with predictable production.

This is Legend's major flaw -- fans familiar with the Wu and its offshoots will find themselves in an all-too-familiar territory, sonically and thematically.

However, GZA is a rapper's rapper, and for those more interested in wordplay than backing tracks, this album won't disappoint. Lyrically, he still creates the verbal cinema of GZA's Liquid and Raekwon's Only Built 4 Cuban Linx, but with more emphasis on control as opposed to sheer head-banging bravado.

The problem is thus -- as innovators, the GZA and the Wu-Tang collective deserve their place in the progression of contemporary hip hop. Yet numerous pretenders and internal troubles have diminished the Wu presence. Can the Wu maintain its place in the pantheon of rap as a younger generation of listeners comes into its own?

Despite its lyrical potency, Legend of the Liquid Sword and other less-than-revelatory albums make such a return to prominence seem unlikely.

The Arts & Entertainment Editor can be reached at artsdesk@unc.edu.